Insanity is the storm which assaults the cabin that is my consciousness. I leave my window open, but I'm aware that that the wind will never be strong enough to tear down the walls

Saturday, October 27, 2007

Anachronism

It's not that the best things in life are free. It's just, they were around even before money was invented

Friday, October 19, 2007

Wake up

Wake Up
by Win Butler, William Butler, RĂ©gine Chassagne, Timothy Kingsbury, Richard Reed Parry and Howard Bailerman


Somethin'
filled up
my heart with
nothin',
someone told me not to cry.
But now that
I'm older,
my heart's
colder,
and I can see that it's a lie.
Children
wake up,
hold your
mistake up,
before they turn the summer into dust.
If the children
don't grow up,
our bodies get bigger but our get
torn up.
We're just
a million little god's
causin' rainstorm
turnin' everything good to rust.
I guess we'll just have to adjust.
With my
lightnin' bolts a glowin'
I can see where I am
goin'.
With my
lightning bolts a glowin'
I can see where I am
goin' to be
when the reaper he reaches and touches my hand.
Better look out below!


It's a fine between music and poetry. Song by The Arcade Fire

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

We are but couches

Goods? A misnomer, if you ask me. More like unnecessaries. Books and CDs and movies aren't what first comes to mind when goods are mentioned, but they're more good than most goods. People want to have, have, have, but how many want to be, be, be? They live not for themselves, they live for goods, never realizing that the only real good is them. They're not their skin and their spleen, they're their ideas, they're mind. Healthy mind, healthy body? Likely. But the inverse isn't necessarily true. At all, really

The progress of civilization is but the progress of comfort. The progress of longevity. Who among us has seem real progress of state of mind? Who among us should really care what their house looks like if it's home? Whose dream is a Ferrari and not another dream? We all strive for the material and for the spiritual, but who strives for their heart's prize instead of their eyes' or their hands', or their genitals, really? Stuff is nice, no doubt. But the problem is when stuff becomes the stuffing inside our skin

Live and let go, live and let flow

Blow

A song, a ballad, a thin rope around the waist,
Can you feel the taste of hope humming along?
Undertow, undertow, let me see your tape unwound,
Your breast exposed,
The true colour of your eyes.
Carry me where I may go, but will you never show
That sweet sweet face of yours
That ego that I’ve come know?

Friday, October 12, 2007

Perspective

favoured are the blissful
in their ignorance of poetry
they taste the nectar full
which the despaired can only seek
the poet's soul knows no existence
it's but a myth and but a sin
to which no man should be allowed admittance
it's but a game, there is no way to win
they know they only dream
My beautiful Calliope,
Will you also be
Ulysses' home, Penelope?
but rhyme is but a pipeline
an excuse for mere insanity
in the end the distance only
can be seen by eyes so lonely

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Safe havens are a thing of the past

Globalisation.

It's a nice word. The world coming together, the world not being a group of distinct countries, but only one giant city. The internet makes this reality even stronger, in spite of the paradox that might seem to arise; people linked in so many ways you can't even count them anymore. A real sense of community where everyone can take part in. One big, open-armed village

Or almost.

There are no outskirts. No woods just outside, no river to hike idly along, no trees to mindlessly gaze at. You can look around all the forests in the world, but will never find Walden anymore. Thoreau himself could be reborn today, but where would he take his seclusion? Where could he live in Nature?

Mankind is all over the world now. The problem, of course, is that mankind is all over the world. There's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide anymore. Everywhere one looks, he sees concrete, he sees people, he sees machinery. But nowhere does he find a spot he can call just his, a spot he can run to when things become too overwhelming. And sadly, being overwhelmed is all too easy, since everything and everyone seems to be just around the corner

Friday, October 05, 2007

No guide, no sign, no love, no death

When I read about Third Cultures Kids, I thought it was a very appropriate, very fitting metaphor. Now I realize that it wasn't a metaphor at all. It's exactly what happens

I have felt like a foreigner on strange lands for a few years now. Every now and then I get a glimpse of home, but much like anything good, it's just flitting. I don't know these people, I don't know this language. And no matter where I go, it'll never be home. Home, unlike is usually thought, and a bit like heaven and hell, is not a physical place, but a state of spirit. I don't know where my home is anymore, and nothing will apparently ever make sense until I find it. Unless I've already found it, but forgot to write down the address. Don't you ever get that feeling of walking by somewhere and knowing that that place is significant somehow, but you just don't know why?

All I want is a place I can come back to whenever I need. And not a real place, but a corner of my mind where I can just sit and drink hot cocoa, not a worry in sight. Maybe that's my undertow, afterall. No matter how dark, or how late it gets, the fire that lights my dark study is endlessly ignited. However, it's also the searing touch that wakes you up every time you get just that close to bliss. I don't know what kindles it. Maybe I never will. I guess no one really knows. I just want to sit down and watch the flames dance their eternal tango

Balance is not the evening out of an extremity, it's a constant push towards the middle. Of course, much like anything else, that in itself is also a double-edged sword. I want to get burnt at this fireplace so that I'll always know where it is, so that I can come back to it when it's too cold outside and I just need some warmth, nothing but a little cozy heat