November 14, 2016 § Leave a comment
Say, I reckon the main thing affecting human relationships is self-doubt. Too many friendships end up at the landfill because of stubbornness and unwillingness to question oneself.
So, there are extremes. I hear people come up to me at the bar when I’m waiting to serve them and start off our interaction with an awkward titter and a polite “ooh, sorry”. I can not help but give them a baffled look – what is everyone so sorry about? Maybe they’re apologizing in advance for the unpleasantness they are predisposed to causing later on.
Use up your daily quota of apologies on banalities, to instill a sense of sympathy and trust in your interlocutors – so that when a compromising situation arises, you can let indignation take over in an impassioned outburst, and not owe anyone any apologies.
See, people know of the concept of being apologetic, respectful and willing to back down. All these are valuable assets to a fully integrated member of our society. Most of us, however, have grown so massive inside our own minds that the consciousness herniates.
What pokes out on the surface is a never-ending outflux of generic apologetics.
Underneath, an unrelenting sense of self pulsates and readies itself for the great pounce when its sense of sensibility is questioned, or its needs not quite met. It is when apologies and self-doubt are most crucial that they are treated as nothing more than pesky obstacles, and conceited rage is allowed to take full reign of the mouth and, on special occasions, treat it to its favorite candies: obscenities and mockery. When two people do not get along, it is often a case of one ego not even entertaining the possibility of the other’s opinion being worthy of consideration.
The mind must be mediated, the hernia removed, the consciousness evened out.
November 5, 2016 § Leave a comment
A trip made with my best friend into the misty midnight heart of — Town and our very minds themselves.
nos corps frétillent de toutes les couleurs et voilà que j’écris des banalitées hippies
pourquoi c’est aussi sombre?
les vagues frétillantes de couleurs et de langues
linguistic journeys through body and mind
Finally in the shower it is all there
Likelihood and passion
Usefulness in useless matter
I found some deeper meaning until I came to
And found my hair too wet not knowing what to do
I think I thought that I’d realised then
I was resisting more and more each day than men
Resisting some goal, some ultimate wish
But it seems too stupid to even think.
I keep interrupting myself. But what sickens me is the incessant littering of my ramblings with the word I. I me mine, I me mine, I me mine. It’s a game, it’s a game, and I’m losing.
The bright light of dawn pierces through uncomfortably grimy windows thick with decades of gathering dust and filth from the crude, unappealing High Street of –– Town itself. How to appease its wrath? The room is so vast and unwelcoming. Somehow making my room “like home” feels unnatural, like allowing myself to settle in to a situation I’m not at all comfortable in. Temporary… for I have dragged my precious friends down with me into the temporariness of –– Town and its permanent inhabitants. She did not need to see this. She could have thrived with friends much younger and more fun than I, forging a successful stage career with passionate no-nonsense jamming every night and just all-round healthy goofing off paired with a terminal dose of hard-work and love-for-what-ya-do, each and every breathing hour of the day and night.
Not me with my sour descent into sourness and bitter exhaustion of my own resources, brimming with bile and venom.
Perhaps I should embrace that bitterness and venom, perhaps it is what gives me my essence. Ooh, I me mine, I me mine, I me mine. There I go again.
where did her mind lead her on these paths of longitude
While mine did leaps over bounds into mountains of plenitude
Of oddly formed worlds, different edges, #no filters
Odd filters, perhaps,
might show up in some of the snaps
Where did her mind lead her
This quiet ball of curiosity
Jittering with bubbling elixirs of youth
where did her mind take her as I walked us clearly down the path mine had chosen
shut my mind the fuck up-
I who lay my heart on mine sleeve
I who canst* not shuteth the fuck up
I who must hear my every thought vocalised
I who must drive others wild
With yearning for me to just keep my mind shut.