It is sometimes easier to fill your mind with an amalgam of different, inherently unrelated, fast moving and relatively unimportant information that move in a very fast pace. This is easier than trying to put your mind at ease with a simple idea or non what so ever.
The shear number of news and information that is received, reviewed, analyzed and then stored in my brain creates a situation that is border line between paranoia and total mind blockage.
New ideas keep popping up in my brain as raindrops on the windshield of a car passing through narrow winding ocean roads of Ireland. The ideas roll down in great details, from setting up a Persian Alternative Music Radio station to setting up an opposition political party with meticulously planned roles, responsibilities and authorities of each person at every conceivable level; to even considering moving into a convent.
Border line I said? Borders for me are blurred definitions that are defined by hypocrisy as I rant about things that are, and things that have to be.
I need control. I need to have my feet on the ground not on a wet place; not on the slimy, sliding stones on the banks of a little island in the middle of the river; the Vlata. I only fume out words, I rant. I have long discovered that the truth is just an imagined, formulated version of a dream. And my dream……(10 pages missing)…..
There is Roya, the girl in my dream that tells me to take things easy. “Easy?” I ask bewildered. She smiles as her beautiful green eyes glitter in the moonlight. “Easy, I say” she leans to her right and shows me a contract signed by her. I have no idea what the contract is all about. There is her signature on the paper, Roya Rz. Why can't I make up her last name? Maybe I can search for her in facebook and find that someone in dreams is actually for real. But is this borderline? Here in Prague in late April when the river moves so calmly yet so strong!!!
Trucks loaded with goods with ideas, with unknown thoughts are passing by; trains filled with information are following the trucks on the other side of the river bank. I am watching, reviewing, analyzing and absorbing not even worried about my father standing on the other shore awaiting the news of my safe arrival on the island. Is this the “Reality Island?” Is this the shore I was struggling for. Is that my father (only 45 years old in my dream) standing in his leather jacket (if he ever had one) waiting for me to cross the river? Or is reality jammed up and summarized in Roya’s gorgeous smile and her bewildering dazzling green eyes?
I struggled very hard grasping at ropes that connect the two banks of the river, the river was wild on my side, calm on the other side. As I arrived at a rock at the end of the rough and wavy part of the river in darkness, only the vertically installed powerful lights illuminating the Prague Castle were visible.
I passed over the river on ropes locked by my father, on ropes of comfort; with his help. So why am I still so scared…..(5 pages missing)… Roya walked on water just as if it was a puddle when she approached me. Dark water, deep anger, struggle, ropes, leather jackets, fear...oh fear and then the comfort of those eyes.
Why am I still thinking of nightmares? Why do I need so much control on every single act that passes through my observing eyes? Why is Roya so calm? Why and how does she float and walk on water over the river that took so much energy for me to pass? Why is Buddha always facing the door? I am sure I saw him carried on the shoulder of dead Czech anarchists on the other side of the banks of Vltava River.
Vltava is my river. Roya is waiting for me on the island in the middle of the river. What is in Vltava, other than water? Water is life so why is Vltava killing me at the same time as giving birth do me? I am not the bravest man; I never stop but that does not mean that I am not afraid of the untold secrets and dark water.
Information flow is excruciating. Pain is running up my veins. I have to get to the other side, the river is fighting me, and Vltava my friend is drowning me in her cold waters.
Trucks and trains are passing non-stop; I am rolling up and down my facebook page to see what else is new only 3 minutes from my previous check. The information is flowing so fast my eyes cannot keep up reading all of them. Roya is asking me to cool down, says everything is going to be ok, just take a look at the contract. “Contract?” I am so confused. My body is aching; I am wet, tired and emotionally unbalanced as I sit down on a piece of rock in the middle of a raging river that wants to take my life. I am saved but perplexed. When can I cut the umbilical cord to my father? Buddha is being carried on the safe side of the river. Roya is smiling constantly and my brain is about to explode.
