Friday, June 27, 2008

i feel like

throwing my arms around a total stranger, and tell him or her that it will all be okay.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

poem of the day

we will taste the islands

and the sea

I know that some night
in some bedroom
my fingers will
soft clean

songs such as no radio

all sadness, grinning
into flow.

- Charles Bukowski

Sunday, June 22, 2008

song of the day (no, yesterday. yesterday!)

Maurice Ravel - Pavane pour une enfante défunte (the orchestral version)

(i've liked this one a long time now. but yesterday, hearing it again, i suddenly felt all tired -- in a nice way. as if here there was contentment.

such grace, as if our sighs are caught in the endless robes of a slowly dancing princess, all alone, not entirely there. such tenderness we might feel for her. we are floating on a strange instance of eternity, and never does it seem to bother. we are ever moving, and no one might be watching.

i would never want it to end.)

Thursday, June 19, 2008

happiness # 33

-your skin touching someone else's skin
-the length of summer evenings
-watching and listening to cows eating grass
-the piano in Gorki's song Mia
-watching bats flying
-singing along with songs on your bike, alone, late at night (tonight it was No Surprises by Radiohead -- twice)

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

so i bought a new camera today

and had some fun with it. i didn't bring a tripod, so there's bound to be some noise because it was getting dark. haven't really been enhancing or cropping or whatevering these pics, so don't judge too harshly. i know they're not the greatest, but they're here.

(i put them in order, so that you could see how the evening progressed.)

Sunday, June 15, 2008

'for madmen only' -- or differentiated loners

'How absurd those words are, such as beast and beast of prey. One should not speak of animals in that way. They may be terrible sometimes, but they're much more right than men.'
'How do you mean - right?'
'Well, look at an animal, a cat, a dog, or a bird, or one of those beautiful great beasts in the Zoo, a puma or a giraffe. You can't help seeing that all of them are right. They're never in any embarrassment. They always know what to do and how to behave themselves. They don't want to impress you. No play-acting. They are as they are, like stones or flowers or stars in the sky. Don't you agree?'
I did.
'Animals are sad as a rule,' she went on. 'And when a man is sad - I don't mean because he has a toothache or has lost some money, but because he sees, for once in a way, how it all is with life and everything, and is sad in earnest - he always looks a little like an animal. He then looks not only sad, but more right and more beautiful than usual. That's how it is, and that's how you looked, Steppenwolf, when I saw you for the first time.'

-Hermann Hesse, Steppenwolf

Friday, June 13, 2008

happiness # 32

today was a sad, gloomy day.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

it's just a couch

everything is surface; learn to accept that.

nothing is surface; learn to accept that.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

nice words # 6


song of the day (it's a nice night. it was a nice sunset. it was a nice day.)

Little Dragon - Twice

(a special one, this. it manages to be very comforting and peaceful, and, at the same time, very saddening and full of private agony, as if this is the moment after mourning -- that mourning still in our blood, still so very much in our blood, but also fading away, and therefore hurting so much, even though there is comfort in knowing, in knowing that there is fading, that there will always be fading. everything fades. which is beautiful. which is terrible.

Twice manages to be balmy like a summer evening seeping into late night, and inevitable like an autumn afternoon which cannot go anywhere.

it's the piano that leads the way. everything else rests on it; hills are climbed, hills that wish to be mountains but are not. they are not.

the piano leads the way, repeats itself, is ever there. will always be there. will always fade away.)

Sunday, June 08, 2008

nice words # 5


Monday, June 02, 2008

like rain

we can feel how a storm is coming. we are still those animals, still share every bit of this knowing.

opened the door to the garden, sat in front of it, took off my t-shirt, and let the air, carrying the rain, envelop me, let it come inside and take me, too. who am i to oppose.

oh, the smells. no one knows these smells. we always remember them, but then at the same time they are gone, and now i am sitting here, still smelling them, but i cannot describe them. who can write down a smell. who can write down placing your hand on the warm, breathing skin of someone else’s belly.

one song that accompanied me. November by Azure Ray, and it all was right. how could anything ever be wrong again.

it’s so little. it’s only a storm, only lightning, only thunder, only rain, only wind, only trees. it’s only me. that’s why nothing could ever be more. perhaps i speak in platitudes. i have no real weapons to do battle with what i am not capable of.

i would like the aftermath of a storm to be represented by a single, long, dry cello note.

and i had to think of the phrase “and then it flows through me like rain”. sometimes it is not hard to belong to a movie, especially when it’s real. where else would i ever want to be but here. now. where else. there is no else.

i wondered. could this be what dying feels like.

not the pain, just the letting go.

i looked at the trees in front of me, giving way to whatever may come, dancing like kites that flow so--effortlessly. and every... single... leaf... was so very much exploding with meaning. like it was all me, and i was all. like i am a leaf, over and over again, a part of all this -- because why shouldn’t i be.

why shouldn’t i be.

the reason why the title of this post is so much longer than the post itself

oh, just because.