Month: March 2012
So yesterday I was at this party. Cool people, lots of dancing and lots and lots of Skinny Bitches. Great party – slightly hung over today.
Anyway, so at some point I’m talking with this group of people, the subject being politics. They are discussing the different parties and especially one guy is very opinionated about who he supports and what he thinks about the opponents. Now, I do keep up with the major stuff and I always make sure to vote but I’m honestly not that into politics. I’m very much into what’s going on in the world and I’m equally into trying to make it better but to think that politics as a system will make anything better doesn’t make much sense to me. In my opinion it is an antiquated pseudo crutch and I look forward to the day where we are able to guide ourselves from a higher consciousness rather than be guided by a cacophony of hidden motives. Maybe it is important here to point out that I do believe plenty of people enter politics with the best of intentions – but I also believe that once in there, the individual is swallowed up and will end up playing the same game as everyone else. It is simple sociological system theory. Whatever, this will all be in my manifesto – moving on.
So, just when I decide that I’ve had enough of intellectual fun, someone asks me my opinion and I laugh and answer without really thinking about it “oh sorry I guess I’m kind of an anarchist – I really don’t believe in politics“. This is where it gets weird.
The very opinionated guy elegantly slides one step to the left and is now right next to me; “you know what, that is exactly how I feel as well.”
Guy; “definitely. You see, I have this *a long speech about a very important job in the media* and so obviously I have to stay objective but deep down… *something about something*.”
I really don’t get the concept of changing his opinion so drastically. How are you supposed to know which opinion is the truth? Does he know which one? Is there even one or is he a walking cloud of lingering opinions ready to manifest into a perfect fit for every situation? Does it spring from insecurity? From opportunism. Is it pathological? Confusing and ridiculous is what it is.
This guy was actually really nice and didn’t seem deceitful at all – plus I’m pretty sure he was gay so no sex motives either.
So there must be some other reason.. Is it simply a question of making a connection and less important if it is made by pretending?
I mean, sure we all change how we feel about things as we expand our horizon but there must be some kind of chore that only changes gradually..? How do we (and by we I mean people who do this) ever expect to be taken seriously if we (they) can’t even be somewhat consistent?
Will anyone admit to doing this – and for other reasons than just trying to impress and/or get laid…?
Let me know if any of you know the secret to this weird phenomenon – it is too complex for me on this hung over Saturday.
A few days ago I was given a challenge by the amazingly talented Moses to write Flash Fiction. I have never done so before, which of course is the perfect reason to accept anything really.
This is our first one but I have a feeling there will be others and so I invite anyone reading this to join in the fun.
I must say, this has really been a challenge and I definitely feel like a beginner. But it has also been so much fun and I’m excited to dive deeper into this newfound universe of writing.
So, to the writing.
Topic – Wasted Time
Word count – 120
Mood – Raw Emotion
Genre – Realistic Fiction
A surreal desperation is echoing a scream inside him. All this time he had thought that he was on the way to something great. A dream he never created, justified procrastination. A lie.
He closes his eyes, overwhelmed with a sudden nausea, the scream threatening to blow his entire body to pieces. Now he is stuck in this mediocrity. Middle aged and alone. With a memory of how it could have been. How it should have been. How it never will be again.
He picks up the article. ”How can you be dead?” he whispers to the picture of her face. The scream reaches his lips and his whole world is an icy explosion. Frozen ashes of a life wasted.
Feel very free to comment, it would be great to get some critique :)
And also, go check out the other entries here, I’m very excited to read them myself!
And last, do join in!!
The usual ego blabber aside (no one likes ego blabber, except maybe, and that’s a big maybe, the person blabbering and even then, a moment of clarity will provide the blabber hangover at a later and more enlightened time). That was a really long parentheses, I should start over.
As I was saying, the usual ego blabber aside, I really think we should be better at acknowledging our own qualities. Most people I come into contact with, have huge talent in pointing out what they are not good at, shamelessly undermining their own value. Honestly, it is such a turn off. Unless it is true, in which case, it is good that they are aware themselves. Knowing yourself is hot.
Last night I watched the movie Julie&Julia. I liked it, it had a nice little story but that is not really important in this context. What I’m getting at is that the main character is starting a blog and at some point the statement is made that blogging is all about you. Or something like that. The underlying judgement of that remark being pointed towards the self-worshipping as well as self-therapeutic aspects of blogging but that is not really important in this context, either. Just keep it in mind.
Today when I got off work (I worked an exhausting 2½ hours out of which I spent one hour sitting in the sun with a cup of tangerine tea, scribbling down thoughts too big to stay in my head. Life is hard.). Anyway, when I finally got off work, I decided to walk along the ocean in the beautiful weather and while walking there, thoughts of all sorts appeared and disappeared again. It is kind of fascinating how that works; we get a thought, which then leads us to another one, which then again takes us in a completely different direction and within just one minute the mental ground covered can be quite impressive. So I was walking, watching my thoughts as they drifted by and suddenly found myself in deep philosophical contemplation, the subject, very appropriately, being myself and my qualities.
You see, I’m really good at walking. I have a great walk. On more than one occasion it has been pointed out to me by others that my walk is pretty awesome and I’m very satisfied with it myself. Not only are my legs able to move in a well-balanced 1-2-1 choreography, they actually manage to hold the rest of my body up while doing so. Off course, I have had many years to practice and perfect my walk but I honestly believe that there must have been some innate talent bursting through all on its own. Some things you just can’t force. Also, I really love walking. I can walk for hours. I’m not sure what came first; maybe I loved walking and that naturally helped develop what today is recognized as a spectacular talent. Or maybe I realized just how amazing my walk is and then came to love it that much more than before my realisation. Who can tell, really?
The whole thing, being conscious of the importance of acknowledging your own talent, once again being reminded of my walking skills, put together with the remark about blogging being all about you – how could I not post this?
Sure, I have other skills but there will be other posts as well so starting with the basics and then we will go from there.
I guess all I really wanted to point out is that we all have talents and instead of showing off our own misunderstood humility, we should be proud of whatever we have to be proud of. Unless there is nothing to be proud of, then maybe we should just keep quiet.
black, heavy, noisy
suffocating from the inside
pick up your pen
words carry pieces of pain
each word breathes deeper
every sentence flies lighter
empty, silent, calm
put down your pen
I wake up in an echo of something beautiful.
something that is gone.
something that I miss.
and it hurts
I go to the ocean
yesterday a freedom
today an escape
I close my eyes
and I listen
past the seagulls
through the waves
to the silence inside
and I am
and I listen to the silence.