Keyboard for Blondes

Keyboard for Blondes

Life is intolerable

As best as I can tell, life is intolerable. Oh, not always of course. A case can be made for all the big wonders and little blessings and blah, blah, blah. But when you really boil it down, our entire existence rests on a few really ugly premises.

First, life, and by that I mean the big life, life with a capital L, must ingest other life in order for it to remain life. Or, put another way, in order to witness the miracle of creation, we must continually eat, and then poop out, a little bit of that miracle.

Second, one of the charming side effects of sentient life is emotional pain. The fact that dead and fermenting plant life creates alcohol – a terrific anesthetic for emotional pain – might cause one to think that this is, by nature, a compassionate universe. Think again. Keep dulling that pain with booze and you wind up, if you’re lucky, in a church basement sharing your tears with complete strangers. If you’re not lucky, you wind up on a waiting list for a motorcyclist’s liver.

And finally, there is the ever-present knowledge of death. In order to “more fully appreciate the gift of life,” we all get to ponder a violently sudden or slow and agonizingly painful descent into oblivion — after which our beloved bodies turn into the stuff of nightmares. Which brings me back to my original premise: life is intolerable.

I am what I do

I am abandoned, I am loneliness. I am nothing, I am the one who has everything. I am my dreams, I am the nightmare. I am fate, I am my savior. I am an angel, I am my demon. I am all I can see through the looking glass, I am blindness. I am the one that fears, I am courage. I am what you cannot see, I am the mirror. I am the life, I am what I do.

*29 ianuarie 2009

Introspectie (?!?)

Asta n-o fac pentru mine cel de acum, ci pentru cel care voi fi in viitor. Prezentul e mic si fara importanta, trecutul este cel care modeleaza viitorul. Voi citi mai tarziu cele ce le voi scrie aici, le voi da dreptate, le voi nega ca fiind absurde ca apoi sa ma uimesc de claritatea introspectiei de care am dat dovada. Fiind vorba despre mine imi va placea tot ce am facut, de e bine sau e rau, voi gasi scuze pentru purtarile rusinoase si laude pentru cele nelaudabile. Voi ajunge sa ma iubesc pentru ce am fost dar niciodata pentru ceea ce sunt. Sa te gandesti la viitor e o treaba de om nebun, dar la urma urmelor nu sunt eu un nebun? Sunt nebun, chiar daca unul fa;s, dar tot nebun se cheama ca sunt.

De sus-sus de pe munte, caprele negre sufla in jos-jos. La campie, o oaie aude niste soapte: sst, sst, zbori pasarica mica, zbori! Seara, de la fereastra casei mele ma uit la cer. Deodata, vad un lucru cat se poate de normal: o oaie zboara spre cerul instelat. Inchid ochii si ma culc.

Atentie va rog, ploua cu avioane! (Aveti umbrele pentru asta?)

Si nu uita: nebunia cere o doza de responsabilitate, altfel te consuma.

“Dead is dead”

Oamenii sunt mereu in cautare de ceva, insa cel mai adesea se cauta pe ei insasi. Incearca sa descopere cum sunt, ce fel de oameni sunt; mereu in cautarea identitatii.

Ce e foarte ciudat e ca ei stiu cine sunt. Da, asa e, TU sti cine esti si o sti prea bine. E adevarat ca te mai schimbi, se mai schimba realitatea din jurul tau si inevitabil te schimbi si tu. Mai sunt si momente de confuzie, dar sti prea bine cine esti. Problema e ca nu-ti prea place. Te uiti in oglinda si strambi din nas sau dai din umeri. Nu vorbesc de infatisare, de corp, de cat de bine arati, ci de interior.

1.000 de motive?

Vreau sa fac… multe. Nu fac destule insa. Ma intreb deseori de ce. Oareshcare motivatie am, dar nu cred ca e destula. 1.000 de motive ajung? Ajung la 1.000 de motive?

Devine tot mai greu sa tin gandurile intr-o ordine. Ordine din care sa inteleg macar jumatate. Stiu ce vreau, sau cel putin asa cred. Stiu ce trebuie sa fac, pare destul de simplu. Am 999 de motive sa obtin ce vreau. Unul lipseste. Dar care?

*aiureli de duminica

Do you have problems?

Do you have problems? Are they eating you? Feel like your life is a pile of dirt?

Go wash yourself!

LOVE STORY meets VIVA LA VIDA

N-am sa-mi fac un obicei de a posta melodii de pe youtube insa melodia asta…

An Invisible Thread

There are nearly seven billion people on this planet. Each one, unique, different. What are the chances of that? And why?  Is it simply biology, physiology that determines this diversity? A collection of thoughts, memories, experiences that carve out our own special place? Or is it something more than this? Perhaps there’s a master plan that drives the randomness of creation. Something unknowable that dwells in the soul and presents each one of us with a unique set of challenges that will help us discover who we really are.

We are all connected, joined together by an invisible thread. Infinite in its potential, and fragile in its design. Yet while connected, we are also merely individuals. Empty vessels to be filled with infinite possibilities, an assortment of thoughts, beliefs. A collection of disjointed memories and experiences. Can I be me without these? Can you be you?

And if this invisible threat that holds us together were to sever, to cease… what then? What will become of billions of lone, disconnected souls? Therein lies the great quest of our lives. To find, to connect, to hold on. For when our hearts are pure, and our thoughts in line, we are all truly one, capable of repairing our fragile world and creating a universe of infinite possibilities.

Who am I?

For every being cursed with self-awareness there remains the unanswerable question „Who am I?” We struggle to find meaningful connections to one another. We are the caring friend, the loving father, the doting mother, the protected child… We fight and we love in the hope that somehow, together we can understand our significance in the universe. But in the end, no one can share our burden. Each of us alone must answer the question: „Who am I?”… „What does it mean to be alive?”… „In the vast infinity of time how do I matter?”

1+1=1

What we learned as children, that one plus one equals two, we know to be false. One plus one equals one. We even have a word for when you plus another equals one. That word is LOVE.