Batakliev's Bloc

At last...a full mighty blast of tropical rain. Never before has rain felt that comforting, that redeeming and that empowering. The sun is smiling in disguise as I am swim-walking through curtains of cascading water, somewhere between above and below. Am I still intact, entire? I might as well disperse in the full mighty blast of tropical rain and shapeshift merrily until the sun comes out again.

Today's soundtrack: the gentle gurgle of water pouring into the pool (from the beak of a golden swan) overlaid with the incantational vibration of bamboo xylophone. I am new to paradise. Sun-deprived, grey and gaunt. Laden with programmes and modules. Haunted by alignments and dependencies. Galloping from one experience to another, in fear of missing the ultimate one. Hungry, itchy, greedy for simplicity, normality and peace of mind. The people of Bali only look at me and smile. As if to say: "No rush. You'll get there."