PLAINSONG | the cure

"i think it's dark and it looks like rain" you said.
"and the wind is blowing like it's the end of the world" you said.
"and it's so cold, it's like the cold if you were dead"
and then you smiled for a second.

"i think i'm old and i'm feeling pain" you said.
"and it's all running out like it's the end of the world" you said.
"and it's so cold it's like the cold if you were dead"
and then you smiled for a second.

sometimes you make me feel
like i'm living at the edge of the world.
like i'm living at the edge of the world.
"it's just the way i smile" you said.

SPIDER AND I | brian eno

spider and i sit watching the sky
on a world without sound.
we knit a web to catch one tiny fly
for our world without sound.

we sleep in the morning,
we dream of a ship that sails away,
a thousand miles away.

lauda somnului

ieri dimineaţă m-am trezit cu o idee neobişnuită în gând.

cum ar fi dacă, atunci când ne trezim şi ne ridicăm din pat, o parte din noi rămâne adormită în pat? la fel ca o diviziune celulară, spiritul nostru se scindează în două: jumătate este supus corpului: se ridică, umblă, se spală pe dinţi, suflă peste ceaiul fierbinte, râde, vorbeşte, îşi face temeri, visează la viitor, se îndrăgosteşte, suferă, îmbătrâneşte cu fiecare secundă... cealaltă jumătate rămâne în pat, liniştită, cu un zâmbet aia schiţat; se întoarce pe o parte, apoi pe alta, trage pătura peste cap, se face ghem, visează, râde în somn, transpiră, visează, visează, visează, visează... dacă acceptăm însă că viaţa însăşi e un vis, atunci în fiecare clipă noi ne scindăm fractalic în vise de vieţi paralele, reflectând ca cioburile unei oglinzi o infinitate de existenţe posibile.

tot ce cunoaştem, tot ce vedem din noi, din alţi oameni, din tot, reprezintă de fapt o frântură microscopică dintr-un întreg infinit.

THE CONSOLATIONS OF PHILOSOPHY | alain de botton

friendship: a minor conspiracy against what other people think of as reasonable.

seneca

we live in the middle of things which have all been destined to die.

mortal have you been born, to mortals have you given birth.

reckon on everything, expect everything.

TOMORROW NEVER KNOWS | the beatles

turn off your mind, relax
and float down stream
it is not dying
it is not dying

lay down all thought
surrender to the void
it is shining
it is shining

that you may see
the meaning of within
it is being
it is being

that love is all
and love is everyone
it is knowing
it is knowing

that ignorance and hate
may mourn the dead
it is believing
it is believing

but listen to the
colour of your dreams
it is not living
it is not living

or play the game
existence to the end
of the beginning
of the beginning
of the beginning
of the beginning
of the beginning
of the beginning

SOME LIKE IT HOT

i hope this time you wind up with the sweet end of the lollipop, sugar.

the solitary post

strange that i find writing in romanian so overwhelmingly difficult. maybe the language is too close to my heart and i realize that some things cannot be put into words no matter how hard i try. it gives me a feeling of inadequacy and desecration. english feels more distant and as such, sometimes handier for expressing certain thoughts without the feeling of parody lurking behind every word. this will be one of the few posts on this blog that will come close to what i believe blogging is mostly about. this is more like a credo than it is a post in a long line of personal insights, so i will forgive myself for posting it if you will.

i wish i could live in a world so very different from this one.

i wish everyone would understand that history as we know it has been dead for longer than anyone should care to remember. there is no such thing as 'the big picture', the supposedly elaborate system of fundamental truths and acts that make up so much of what we know about this world. it seems far too abstract and particular, so much so that it sacrifices the self for the sake of society, this multi-headed hydra, treacherous and oppressive. history is, in fact, unimportant. stories are the real fabric of the world, each individual tale possessing far greater truth than any one cluster of millennia could ever encompass. political games, military strategies, whole mock-up systems of government playing charades around a funeral pyre of human virtue.

the world is immersed into a state of perpetual delusion. self-importance has not quenched its thirst for power. what lies beneath egocentric actions of the politicians and leaders is a simple but ultimately crushing truth: they are all scared shitless, hoping that their little lives will gather more layers of meaning if they take some small part in seemingly epic struggles. it's a carnival where everybody wears a tie. and it is not only unfunny, but downright depressing and revolting at the same time.

i wish i could live in a world so very different from this one.

i wish everyone would understand that this world was not made for grand gestures, but, like mother theresa visionally said, "there are only small gestures made with great love". i wish i could lay my hand on my grandmother's eyes and let her know that i am aware of the sacred family lineage i am burdened with, and that i accept it with honor, just because i see her young pulsating spirit struggling behind the body that is working against her. i wish i could hold M's sister A in my arms and kiss her all over just because her loneliness and sadness fill my heart with incredible, abysmal hopelessness. i wish i could fly to budapest and hold F in my arms and softly kiss his lips, just because there is such a heartbreaking tear in the fabric of his happiness, a dark plague that has no place inside one of such inner beauty. i wish conventions were shattered, and an expression of love could be sent without second thoughts, just as a beacon in the dark from one beating heart to another. maybe if things were like that, the light from these millions of beacons would overcome the darkness surrounding our lives. the sincere expression of a common fear would in fact be the catalyst for a process of symbiotic cleansing. our spirits have been in this world for eons, constantly mixing together and recombining through the course of time, it's no wonder we feel so incomplete. we are all brothers and sisters just like we are all lovers and saints. we are all trying, subconsciously or not, to love each other to the best of our abilities, but social norms suffuse us with fears, doubts and moral issues, labeling some forms of showing love as inadequate patterns of behaviour.

i wish i could live in a world so very different from this one.

i wish everyone would understand and accept what it actually means to die. today i was in the shower, my head was pulsing and my body tense. i imagined blood seeping through my pores, dripping off me into the tub, and flowing tumultuously down the drain, just as if my body were trying to escape the confinement of the skin holding it in. it was not gruesome as the words make it out to be, quite the opposite. it gave me a feeling of gradually dissolving into the world, like the water that makes up my body would finally find its way back to where it came from before i was born, just as my spirit was forged time and time again by the fear of a family taking shelter from a thunderstorm pouring over the huts of hiroshima, by the defeated hopelessness of a black boy watching a flaming cross in front of his house, by the rage and passion of joan d'arc as her body is consumed by flames. we all die in the end, and all that will be left from each of our lifetimes here in the world will be the stories we had. stories which are just a link in an infinite chain of stories, from an infinite bundle of chains that make up the texture of the universe.

i wish i could live in a world so very different from this one.

INDIAN SUMMER | beat happening

breakfast in cemetery
boy tasting wild cherry
touch girl, apple blossom
just a boy playing possum.
we'll come back for indian summer
we'll come back for indian summer
we'll come back for indian summer
and go our separate ways.

indian summer is an informal expression given to a period of sunny, warm weather in autumn in the northern hemisphere, typically in late october or early november, after the leaves have turned following an onset of frost but before the first snowfall. (wikipedia)

titlu

text.