Where there is vision, there is possibility.

The major challenge of self-realization lies in our ability to tune into the subtle energy of cosmic creativity and become instrumental in channeling it ourselves. The key lies in staying attuned to this frequency in spite of everyday distractions. We can hope to achieve this blissful state only by actively defying the boundaries of our own perception on daily basis. This takes a lot of will, because only the will can provide us with the self-discipline needed to see a task to completion. And that is why self-discipline is not just the essential ingredient in any creative process, but its most vital one: it ensures the transformation of a vision into a creation.

Take this, for instance. I am now sitting on a terrace of a beautiful boat hostel on the Danube. Although this is technically speaking, city center location wise, the river scenery paints a sharp contrast with its own microclimate. The dense vegetation surrounding the green of the river gives an illusion of wilderness; its perfect reflection on the water surface brings calm and serenity to the setting.

A wishful thought crosses my mind: it’d be nice to have a little houseboat here of my own, a little haven to escape to. Nothing big. Nothing fancy. Just a cozy little boathouse fenced with the untamed greenery of river foliage, to provide shelter from the curious glances of the passersby. And a large veranda with beautiful wooden boat style floor, wide open, facing the river. I bask in my vision, gallantly adding layers of shape and color to the image in my mind, fueling it with the power to engage all my senses, and soon I am transported there, surrounded with the fresh smells of the river. I hear an occasional humming sound of passing boats, the distant murmur of people talking, children laughing, dogs barking. I feel the gentle breeze in my hair, the tingling warmth of sunrays on my skin. I feel strong hands massaging my neck. They belong to a beautiful black man, who walks around my porch with a constant erection. When he is not massaging me, or otherwise pleasuring me, he is committed to making my daily life more comfortable by making sure I’ve got my peace when I need to write, by cleaning up, preparing delicious exotic meals, and rolling big fat joints to enthuse my creative process.

The daydream is cut short by the grating sound of somebody’s telephone. Back on earth, I smile thinking of the scene I had in my head. I know, I am letting my imagination run wild. But then again, who says?

Where there is vision, there is possibility.

Alien, alienated. That's me.

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