Sunday, April 25, 2010

Making no sense

Sunday evening…

Feeling baffled. Confused. Like it’s not me in my shoes, or like it’s the real me for the first time, a new me I’ve never met before.

People everywhere… men, women, forming circles and dyads and triangles and all kinds of strange shapes that constantly reform into something else, again and again; meanwhile I’m still trying to figure out my place in all this, if there is a place for me in all this… Where do I fit in? Do I fit in at all?

Games without frontiers… with the eyes, the hands, the gestures, the unspoken words that sparkle in one’s eyes waiting eagerly to be heard by someone else’s eyes.

Fears and hopes and expectations turning round and round, devouring us whole with one single big bite of fate.

And then? Then nothing, the wheel keeps on turning relentlessly, changes never seize, what was yesterday today is no more and tomorrow will be forgotten, giving its place in something new, a newborn feeling, a newborn destiny.

Suddenly someone is there in the window, looking outside at a sky that had never been blue…

Strange how random thoughts put down in words seem to express one’s feelings so perfectly at times like these. Funny how the same hand that chokes you sets you free. Amazing how you can begin to learn yourself when you have just given up on learning altogether.

And it’s true, that there’s no place you can find out more about the world than inside your very own soul.

A sparkle. A flame that has never been lit, a distant light in the mist. In the never-ending noise of this great city a deafening silence from afar that screams into my ears and fills my brain, tearing it apart with no mercy.

What am I afraid of? That I and I alone am Pandora’s box, I open up and what comes out unleashed is the threatening mystery of ages, that one formidable secret...

What the fuck is going on? Am I sad or am I happy? Am I distressed, annoyed, content, strong, weak, something else, none of the above, all of the above?

Am I who I am because I was taught to be that way, chose to be that way or because I never really had a choice? And if I had a choice who would I be? What would I have chosen?

Who I am now? Who will I be tomorrow?

But I’m still here…

I hear your voice… I’m looking at you, unwillingly. You look at me, but I don’t know what you mean.

This life makes no sense… how come I just love it that way?

Παλιές Αμαρτίες: Να γίνει το νερό φωτιά

Ώρα μία παρά τέταρτο

μόνη στο δωμάτιο με τον Μπάμπη να μου τραγουδά

να γίνει το νερό φωτιά

Ανάβω ένα τσιγάρο

Τραβάω μια τζούρα.

κι εγώ σκυμένος μ’ άλλη

Σκέψεις που στροβιλίζονται στον νου μου...

Χειμώνες που πέρασαν

Καλοκαίρια που θα έρθουν

Άνθρωποι που είναι γύρω μου

Άνθρωποι που φύγαν


φεγγάρι νύχτα μοναξιά

Βαρέθηκα πια να σκέφτομαι.


Mία παρά δέκα.

Άνθρωποι που μου λείπουν


άραγε θά’ρθεις πάλι...

(25-03-1998, με αφορμή το τραγούδι «να γίνει το νερό φωτιά», Πυξ-Λαξ)

Unexpected High

The high of such determination is intoxicating as much as excruciating… as I grit my teeth to the pain and laugh, scoff at the fear that, if I sit to rest even for the slightest minute, I might not be able to stand or take another step ever again. Clenching my hands into solid rock fists eases the pain surprisingly, so that I’m able to keep walking on, and on, and on… walking, even when joints have gone sour with strain, even when sweat is dripping down my brow like rain, even as I have to drag my feet and push myself onward. Marching, pace steady as I go, eyes ablaze, to whatever destiny awaits me.

It will be the destiny I will have made for myself.

Oscillating Wildly

Feeling alert as never before, and still distracted somehow; yet another contradiction…

And strangely enough, it makes sense.

In a life that’s always been so bizarre, filled with fears and uncertainties and insecurities and uncomfortable emotions of all sorts, but also will, determination, faith and even magic –lost and found again-, in all that turmoil of feelings, contradiction makes perfect sense; it fits…

For how else is change to come if not through contradiction, or even war?

All I am versus all I want to be;
All that hold me back versus all that call for me;
All that pin me down versus my will to fly;
All I fear versus all I desire and hope for;
The dull reality versus my bright dream world of the possible future.

A world where I am self-sufficient and whole, where the image in the mirror matches the one of myself in my mind, a world where my legs and arms are strong enough to carry me far and wide, to the end of the world, to find my for so long disoriented Edward...