Looking for the Golden Line
You can wake up from a dream,
But you cannot undo what you have dreamed.
Some dreams are rabbit holes
They pull you under and you come out another person.
How do you fall down like that without changing?
And the most dangerous point
Is when you dream of that crucial moment when everything matters
Yet nothing else exists.
When you go against all your better judgement, because you simply can't Not.
then you wake up.
and go about your day....
muss es sein?
Does it matter what we allow ourselves to think?
Do you really think the mind cares about our silly objections?
Some things will never change, while others can never be the same.
And if they seem to be all upside down, don't bother trying to change them around.
The brain doesn't understand negations, yet stubbornly I keep telling it "don't!"
It is for my own peace of mind, but I don't find peace in imperatives.
All my metaphors are vintage, all the aphorisms worn out.
Don't...
But, of course, I do.
And you do, too.
Es muss sein!
(C) e e cummings
may i feel said he
(i'll squeal said she
just once said he)
it's fun said she
(may i touch said he
how much said she
a lot said he)
why not said she
(let's go said he
not too far said she
what's too far said he
where you are said she)
may i stay said he
which way said she
like this said he
if you kiss said she
may i move said he
is it love said she)
if you're willing said he
(but you're killing said she
but it's life said he
but your wife said she
now said he)
ow said she
(tiptop said he
don't stop said she
oh no said he)
go slow said she
(cccome?said he
ummm said she)
you're divine!said he
(you are Mine said she)
(i'll squeal said she
just once said he)
it's fun said she
(may i touch said he
how much said she
a lot said he)
why not said she
(let's go said he
not too far said she
what's too far said he
where you are said she)
may i stay said he
which way said she
like this said he
if you kiss said she
may i move said he
is it love said she)
if you're willing said he
(but you're killing said she
but it's life said he
but your wife said she
now said he)
ow said she
(tiptop said he
don't stop said she
oh no said he)
go slow said she
(cccome?said he
ummm said she)
you're divine!said he
(you are Mine said she)
Cambiamo anche noi
Ora tu, chissà dove sei
cambiamo anche noi, cambiamo anche noi, cambiamo anche noi.
anima fragile..
che mi ascoltavi immobile, ma senza ridere
.....
e la vita continua anche senza di noi
che siamo lontani ormai
da tutte quelle situazioni che ci univano
da tutte quelle piccole emozioni che bastavano
da tutte quelle situazioni che non tornano mai
perché col tempo cambia tutto lo sai
cambiamo anche noi, cambiamo anche noi, cambiamo anche noi.
a fine frenzy.
an avalanche,
of repressed emotions, fantasises. Desire.
Released at full speed with no room for thoughts about what comes next,
after acting out what had been forbidden for years.
A nagging feeling, a tug at the heart.
Fear of the end that always comes. inevitable end.
Will it come at full speed too?
Am I different now? Am I a conglomerate of residual feelings and images;
expectations of all that is desirable, unattainable and so there for the taking?
Are you still there? Are you the same?
Or have you been replaced by the instincts that pressed on you until you finally scratched?
the starving girl and the delicious burger
How to explain?
And afterwards, you look yourself in the mirror,
Think about junk food.
Because the instant pleasure you get from devouring that burger is too great to resist.
You realize it's bad for you.
You know it will clog your veins, make your body fat and your life shorter.
And yet you eat it. Why?
Because the instant pleasure you get from devouring that burger is too great to resist.
That delicious thing making you drool even before you sink your teeth into it.
And while you're eating you couldn't care less about grease or heart attacks.
And afterwards, you look yourself in the mirror,
promising to never again feed your body such toxic.
But even as you shape the thought, you know you cannot wait to go back to that hamburger bar.
- you know?
No, it's not about junk food.
I need a moment to step out of line.
What comes after insane?
Why does it matter?
And there you are.
Insanity is defined as doing the same thing over and over, expecting different result.
Parts of me screaming: 'What did you expect?"'
But what if you're fully aware the result will be the same, and you still keep doing it.
What do you call that?
Parts of me screaming: 'What did you expect?"'
But on the inside that copper coil is telling me it isn't the same at all. This is different.
And like a junkie, I hide my habits, my addiction. I tell no one.
A loaded gun, I keep my guard up.
Why does it matter?
The psychology of desire works in mysterious ways.
And I remember.
Naked feet running on a rainy sidewalk. Running, rushing to stop, but ending in defeat.
But my mind cannot conceive of this word, defeat.
And my feet keep running, forever on that sidewalk.
Hoping for a different result, or the same. They keep running.
And there you are.
Tall and strong and leaving. Like you left before.
Raindrops and tears won't keep you here.
You missed me for a while, but I can never know if you will stay.
A dream is a door
You open it. You step through.
Do you come back?
I am inhabited by a cry.
Nightly it flaps out looking, with its hooks,
for someone to love.
for someone to love.
I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft feathery turnings,
its malignity.
-S. Plath.
take off your clothes, take off your body. Tonight we go deeper than disguise
I have always wondered about what happens exactly when you cross the border between friend and lover.
That first kiss that seems so small but which can never be taken back or reversed. And the other person can never again become a person whom you have not kissed and shared some strange part of yourself with.
However unexpected the crossing, the result seems to be the same. I suppose Helen Fischer would have some brilliant explanation of this, but I prefer to juggle it in my own mind and it keeps fascinating me.
Everything staying the same, but being inexorably and irrevocably different.
With these thoughts in my head I came across This article by Jonah Lehrer, writer on neuroscience and psychology. Lehrer discusses what happens to our perception of others when they take their clothes off and reveal more of their bodies. The answer is much more interesting than the usual sexistic objectification of women- argument. Appearently, when we see the naked body of a person we endow that person with the ability to feel and experience, while a fully clothed person is perceived as more cognitive and endowed with the ability to think and reason.
"In other words, we automatically assume that the capacity to think and the capacity to feel are in opposition."
It reminded me of a tiny little post I wrote last year. Unwilling to accept these premises.
Aunque tengas preguntas, sigues continuando
el camino y nada más;
Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar.
Al andar se hace el camino,
y al volver la vista atrás
se ve la senda que nunca
se ha de volver a pisar.
Caminante no hay camino
sino estelas en la mar.
- Antonio Machado.
When I was a child I caught a fleeting glimpse..
Twilight enhances everything.
Dead trees turn into beautiful creatures,
an empty meadow becomes the setting of a mysterious tale.
Light and darkness dance together, the colors marry, as the French say.
Anything seems possible in that short period of time between day and night.
It appears to be a pause from actual time and space; outside of the ordinary.
Every time it comes I try to keep it, but twilight cannot be captured and preserved.
Its appeal lies in its fleetingness.
Like all other things passing, I want it precisely because it is impossible to have.
Deconstruction of self
'What do you mean?'
So instead of saying 'I want you', I say 'there's a copper coil of desire conducting me'
The words I use set me apart from others.
The net is hard to break through.
'What do you mean 'what do I mean'?
'I don't mean anything, if I did I would have said something else'
I believe in the power of language, not as beautiful decoration,
but in its ability of creation and expansion of meaning.
I say what I mean, even if I use a strange vocabulary and metaphors.
Because they open up new worlds. They create more dimensions to our thoughts.
When others would use 'I am scared', I choose 'if he broke her, where would the pieces fly?'
Metaphors and aphorisms tend to create their own world.
Spinning beautiful words into a thick net of imaginary stories.
Turning life into something that it might not be. Better.
There aren't many who find their way inside.
It is safer that way.
Emalgebra.
In the economy of the body, the limbic highway takes precedence over the neural pathways.
We were designed and built to feel and there is no thought, no state of mind, that is not also a feeling.
But what does that mean?
When we are trying to figure out how we feel, do we simply get stuck in a loop?
If every thought corresponds to a feeling, how can I think about emotions without them getting in the way?
Absurd, you must think...to be wondering about thinking about feeling.
Can't get very much else done.
But that's just me.
I complicate things for myself, because I cannot bear the simplicity that life can be.
Refusing to believe in the easy way out, I dig tunnels underneath my door to escape normalcy.
Faced with two choices I choose the third option even when it is impossible.
Self-imposed zemblanity, because it is the only way I know.
Nobody can feel too much, though many of us work very hard at feeling too little.
That's my story and I am sticking to it.
We were designed and built to feel and there is no thought, no state of mind, that is not also a feeling.
But what does that mean?
When we are trying to figure out how we feel, do we simply get stuck in a loop?
If every thought corresponds to a feeling, how can I think about emotions without them getting in the way?
Absurd, you must think...to be wondering about thinking about feeling.
Can't get very much else done.
But that's just me.
I complicate things for myself, because I cannot bear the simplicity that life can be.
Refusing to believe in the easy way out, I dig tunnels underneath my door to escape normalcy.
Faced with two choices I choose the third option even when it is impossible.
Self-imposed zemblanity, because it is the only way I know.
Nobody can feel too much, though many of us work very hard at feeling too little.
That's my story and I am sticking to it.
Trouble is just something that was filed in the wrong place.
Contentment is a feeling, you say?
I thought it was absence of feeling.
Actually content is just two letters and hardly a sound away from contempt.
Are we there yet?
cruel intentions
The mouth is a source of calamity.
So I keep it closed. I try to keep the calamities to myself. I contain them.
But when you close the door, somewhere a window opens.
And some of it sips out...
Silence is a much more severe sentence than the chaos created by any loud mouth.
Especially silence as intentionally withheld speech.
I suppose it is fitting, in a way.
Everything about this has been charachterized by intentional withholding.
words, emotions, truth, understanding.
Obstinately refusing to give in, to give anything at all.
My reponse to refusal is the opposite.
I will keep the lid on no longer.
And if that is unconvenient for someone, perhaps it is a healthy hassle.
So I keep it closed. I try to keep the calamities to myself. I contain them.
But when you close the door, somewhere a window opens.
And some of it sips out...
Silence is a much more severe sentence than the chaos created by any loud mouth.
Especially silence as intentionally withheld speech.
I suppose it is fitting, in a way.
Everything about this has been charachterized by intentional withholding.
words, emotions, truth, understanding.
Obstinately refusing to give in, to give anything at all.
My reponse to refusal is the opposite.
I will keep the lid on no longer.
And if that is unconvenient for someone, perhaps it is a healthy hassle.
