Stream of Consciousness
Spontanous flow
So, existing without love and without conversation seems like a human component of being, but it is so distant from true reality. It seems like the only kind of intimacy, but it is so closed in its action, lacking development and openness. Sometimes I don't even know how, but I still hope that one day I will meet someone with whom I don't have to transform into someone I'm not just to keep the conversation going, and the connection crystallizes. Maybe one day, without words, we will find each other, and communication will be easy, smooth, and a wellspring of boundless curiosity of both minds. It will be as if silence transformed into a moment of enlightenment just before the unfolding of the dialogue of life, undefeated by the surrounding world and transcending it, as if touching the noise that envelops us but creating a new kind of coherence.
By Antea Lumina Kala Matylda about a year ago in Poets
The Last Arcadian
The summer of 2025 was when I found Arcadian’s Last Stand. It was tucked in the back corner of a crumbling arcade at the edge of town, a relic from the ‘80s that somehow survived the rise of VR and mobile gaming. The cabinet was scuffed, its paint chipped, but the screen glowed with a pixelated spaceship dodging waves of alien attackers. I was 29, burned out from a soul-crushing desk job, and hadn’t touched a joystick since I was a kid. But something about that game called to me, like a signal from a forgotten part of myself.
By Shohel Ranaabout a year ago in Poets
