And so we are here, new happy year!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xWa9sJzgM4A
(Source: martinbormann, via audreyhepburncomplex)
New age fun with a vintage feel
The purpose of this blog is keeping track of my diversive thoughts and feelings, which mostly vary from romanticism, impressionism to existentialism and expressionism.
For that matter, most of the posts I publish are of my own writing, unless it is stated otherwise. All of the stories, poems, quotes and contemplations I have written myself are tagged under "My writing".
Enjoy :)
AIR OF DISMAY
Through the plastic skyscrapers I see a blue patch of sky
Not much, but just enough to make me keep on with my life.
I see the mighty banks, the angry traffic and the happy malls
And I keep feeling their pressure on my lungs.
I look up again towards the sky
The patch fade away and now everything is grey
I guess it wasn’t meant for us to stay.
One of the first conditions of happiness is that the link between man and nature shall not be broken.
—Lev Nikolajevič Tolstoj
MIDNIGHT REDEMPTION
Someone in our town has committed a dreadful sin
It was more horrid that the word horror itself
I know not how nor even where to begin!
While the town was at rest and its townies asleep
Out of the mist a shaddow would peep.
A look left and then right, it glided swiftly through the night
The noise was only brief and the crime would begin
When at the graveyard arrived the thief.
The lack of the moon portrayed its doom
Yet lucky for him the stars did gleam.
The church bells struck midnight
The night grew dark and the shaddow so stark,
Waited not for an insight!
It took out its shovel; a shuff and a huff
The dirt was flung out with a puff
There was no human being to interrupt this chuff.
But little the shaddow knew
This may have not been the best way thieving for jewels
For true that the bodies were deceased
But it was their spirits that never had ceased.
And so he slowly came down to the coffins
All made of mahagony and yew
The treasures he found were truly not few.
Right before dawn he finished his job and collecting the goods
A raven came by and over him flew.
It circled around him and cought a look in his eyes
What an atrocious sight within it comprised!
The shaddow became puzzled and tried to escape
But the raven went after him and sat on his cape.
The shaddow became appaled and started to repel
But the raven did not dispel
It pressed it claws deep into his flesh
In every direction his blood started to spurt.
But the raven did not stop,
And with the first ray of sun
A scream of horror was to be heard
A shuff and a puff, the raven flew off
Leaving the shaddow in blood with emptied eyes sockets.
When it gathered back it strenght, took its bag and wanted to leave
It heard the raven flying just near.
It picked up it shovel and swung it “I’ll kill you” the nearby awake would hear.
The raven was getting away and the shaddow started to run
“I will kill you no matter what there’s to be done”
It swung and it swung and “baam” it hit the raven that landed with a thud.
The shaddow was finally victorius and it with its last chance to leave
One, two and three steps on the ground,
The ground had ended and in it it fell without sound.
AUTUMN LEAVES
Today I was going for a ride with my bike. It was the early November and the bleak and morbid outside was much warmer than I had expected. All shades of gray were there to be seen, as if I were caught in a slow, old black and white movie. Even the clothes I was wearing and the colour of my bike were grey.
And so I drove of from our street to the main road, gravely breaking the law by having earphones in my ears and the volume to minimum. Riding my bicycle was enjoyable as always but there were people and cars, constantly blocking my way. How ignorant they all were, minding their own business, acting as it was my wrong doing for so carelessly driving on the cycling path.
But soon the road opened up to me and the long grey asphalt ahead started being feverishly coloured yellow and I looked up at the sky, and there were arches of leaves surronding me, beautiful fiery leaves streching over my head, gently brushing my hair and bending under the weight of my wheels. But they did not seem unpleased by my interruption, on the contrary, they were inviting me to go deeper and come further, and the more I became intoxicated by their spell, the faster I was riding. And at the peak of this unearthly experience, I was spit out of the magical autumn back into the gloomy, crowded greyness of the street.
I had to go back there.
(oui je me lasse pas du clip, monomanie du jour)
You feel so alone
You feel so alone
Your parents don’t see you,
Your girlfriend is gone
And yet you have your whole life to get through.
You feel so alone, but there is always I
Who thinks of you;
Every time you’re not sitting next to me in the classroom
And every time you passed me by and said no »Hi«.
You feel so alone
Though I am here
Why do you refuse to come near,
The pain may be grave but is it worth our friendship?
I do not agree with you, though I respect your wish,
And yet to have you beside me will remain my own wish.
The beer drinkers
The nights were endless and so was the summer. It seems as we were doing everything else from what we were supposed to do – if the bar was closed we would stay there until the waitresses went home, and then we would have pillow fights, wrecking chairs and smashing glasses until we felt it would be a good idea running away from the scene of crime in time. If the concert would end we would curse them all, send them to hell, and go on having our next beer in the only open bar of this rigid small town, which just happened to be the bar of a hotel.
At that time in the night it was all damp and chilly, but that did not prevent us from sitting all alone in the terrace next to the road, where no car would drive on at that hour. First we would abuse their toilets and then smoke our cigarettes while diving into our uncomfortable chairs. Our circle was spinning, the beers were flowing and I guess none of us remembers what we were all babbling and laughing about. Then a guy who was spending a night in the hotel came out for a cigarette and tried to make conversation with us, but none of us was willing to participate in. He said he was just like us, looking for a party to be going on somewhere, but although it probably looked like that, it was not our intention. I guess we were just looking to find a place that weren’t our homes, where we would exist all together in that moment and not think about going to work in the morning or helping mom with the gardening in the afternoon. And so we all willingly pretended to agree with him, waiting for the moment when he would go back into his room and leave us in the world we found ourselves in that night.
The next time was after we ran away from the chaos we left behind, once again looking for another place and another beer. We decided going to the hotel once again but mutually agreed to have a bite to eat before heading on. We went to a Balkanian kebab place where they had good and cheap French-fries but it was closed. We went to another Balkanian kebab place which was open but just stepping inside the place would make you feel quite obnoxious. We gave our orders to the dark tanned men with funny looking noses and funny shaped heads, and after that tried to eat what they served us as quickly as possible. I only had something like three beers at the time but I was already feeling a bit week and sick and I was rocking on my chair trying to convince my stomach that it wanted another beer. Kate gave us a ride to the hotel and headed home (for she was driving and could not share the same enthusiasm for drinking beer that we were sharing). We ran and hopped along to the hotel door but it would not open. We cursed it and sent it to hell and started making plans on who will be brave enough to steal our father’s beer when Jerry remembered something so brilliant, none of us would dare to imagine – the train station was just up the hill of the hotel and there was a wannabe artsy painted bar named “Jazzy Club”. We came there so fast that I don’t even remember how we got there. The beer was already on the table when I came out of the little girl’s room and so we proposed a toast to our foolishness and drank. I forced myself into doing a few small sips but I couldn’t bare drinking it any longer, the feeling down my throat was disgusting and the more I tried to force myself into drinking, the more disgusted I felt about myself.
What the meaning of it all was I don’t know, but I loved doing all those random things no one of us expected doing, even more having random conversations we never thought of having, and probably not even remembering them in the morning.
…Extragalactic Nebula
No matter when in this time and space,
No matter where nor why would be that place
It’ll allways be me and you and you and me
Even when our world turns into sea.
No matter what end awaits this fable story
I feel no need for fear and quarry
No 4 or 3, just 1 and 2,
It’ll always be you and me and me and you.
(NNIENINI)
When sleep ends and…
When you wake me in the morning
and you watch me yawn,
the sheets are clouds,
your face the sun,
The placid rain,
and grey warm day
no better could’ve begun.
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