I became a magician climbing with Tiffy. Then I took a wrong turn at the Ge fork of Henna/Burah. Meandering the dry winter-valley riverbed, waiting for the Calvary to arrive on their revealing horses. Now I aspire to become a free spirit of some necessary kind; or just a mercynary.
Author: Ellinor Kall
Writer, demi-fictional, extranousician, liminal, non-binary & binary star. Writing fiction, poetry and philosophy about life, language, art, imagination, consciousness, magic and various other manifestations of the mind.
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Five dread
I just loudly exclaimed a curse word out loud when I suddenly realized it’s almost NINE years since I wrote the first chapter of my still very much work-in-progress novel The Second Voice. Then I felt tears swelling up at the grievous thought that: “I’ve been dead for at least five years.”
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Djinn & Escatonic
After being stuck in between for some years I finally got this new pneumatic body. But it seems I’m still stuck on Earth tied to the flesh-prison of another. So I’ll try to do a bit of exploration while I wait to taste the djinn and escatonic drink.
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Need to wake up
Spending time alone up in the wilderness makes me realize: this is what I need to feel alright – not medications. Away from the city, away from people, I’m beginning to feel the creative spark awaken again. I feel myself awaken again. I’ve been in hibernation for years now. Something must change.
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Mirror Error
look out
look in
surprise
you’re not what you think
not what you look like
oh, fuck
reality in error
error in mirror
falling
is my mode of transport
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Found and lost
A part of me, found and lost, unholy, raving and unraveling, trying to stitch myself whole, gathering words. Remembering how to breathe.
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Hear my thoughts
When you talk I can not hear my thinking. So please leave some room for my thoughts before I have to answer.
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Happiness transition
Happiness is the short and passing transition from bad to neutral.
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Ships and islands again
Years lost now, trapped on an island that almost disappears with the tide every day, trying to reassemble the wreckage from memory but I forgot the shape of a ship.
Yes, I am alive, I think.
No promises, but I suppose next phase would be: Awake.
Follow my RSS to see what happens next, if anything.
Be seeing you!
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State of the World
people falling from imaginary ladders
no carpenters around I guess
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A subtle issue
She wipes the black ink off her fingers and throws the crumpled up paper tissue into the toilet where it slowly unfolds to look like a subtly splendorous angel spreading it’s wings.
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Empty months
had a massage the other day
she laughed at how stiff my back was
small talk – yes, I’m a writer
she said she wished she was more creative
I didn’t say I wish I was less
creativity can be such a curse
so many ideas, wishes and wants
no energy, no time, no mental bandwidth
this connection – lost
swimming in white noise
the journal has empty months
my mind as an avalanche
massive chaos, hard to salvage
it all piles up and up and up
a few updates to my previous release
the last things to finish the next
one final pass of that video restoration
some proofreading for new editions
collecting and editing new writings
the piles keep piling and piling
everything takes forever and ever
stumbling without direction
can not taste the mead
too full of turbulent water
if I could drain the bog
it would be easier to traverse
maybe rest without sinking
love to sleep – can not sleep
so tired of not being finished
with the wall of stress and anxiety
…
not trying to write poetry
just trying to write
anything at all
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Animal tricks
I teach animals tricks. I teach frogs to leave with a sudden jump whenever they’re going somewhere. I teach flies to navigate by crumpled up maps. I teach humans to…
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Saintists & blank halls
Two saintists – I’m Stein and New Tron – are gluing a boat of gravy in sight of blank halls.
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Found back
A worn and torn paperback. Unintelligible scribbles in the margins. Graphite fingerprints all over. Eraser remains in excess all over page 11. One of the blank pages in the back has a drawing of a door from a famous building. But there is no such door. As far as I know.
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Sudden darkness
The universe is a fucking dark place, I thought late last night when the street lights outside my house for some reason went out.
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Inbreeding ideas
The old gods and goddesses were complex and ambiguous. Seldom associated with Sun or Moon, more often weather – unpredictable. Caring for us or playing with us? Inanna the goddess of love and war; female, yet male. All diverse and similar, but not same. Powerful and inexplicable.
Then they coagulated and merged. Simplified. Monotone. Easy to describe to prospective converts. One trait heroes. Suitable for children. The domestication of all different kinds of wolves into a single breed of dog. A golden retriever. Happy and harmless.
Now we’re stuck with the inbred idea of an idiot god.
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Rearranging again
It’s changing. The walls moving again. Not the slow surface, petrified and decaying, don’t touch it! But heading inside. Different somehow. The spinning anxiety has subsided. For now? Only the spinning remains left (ambiguous end).
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Chekov’s curse
Chekhov’s curse – You can’t mention anything in writing without giving it too much significance.