Sunday, August 31, 2008

Jorma said it

Perception is a communist substitute for dreaming.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Mi lluvia del verano

El camino de los ingleses

I would have wanted to put Summer Rain for the title, but then I remembered something. I went to see a film some time ago with Hando.
It was El camino de los ingleses (2006), directed by Antonio Banderas, based on a novel by Antonio Soler; with young, beautiful, talented Spanish actors like Alberto Amarillo, Maria Ruiz and Félix Gómez playing the leading roles. The typical raw intensity of young love al estilo esp
ol, careless and free summer living, and the survival in the regime of el presidente Franco are delivered to the spectators with exquisite style, and superb harmony with the very minimalistic sountrack (rather typical to señor
Banderas). The music is carefully chosen, never smothers the effect of action in the film. They complete each other. The film could easily be mistaken for a simple story about the social, and personal lives of those kids. They are on the threshold of the independent life, full of aspirations and dreams. Miguelito, the main character, is everything but a simple kid. He has a kidney operation, and after that something in his head changes. His dream is to become a poet, and through the whole film, we get insights to Miguelito's head through the poems he writes. This is what makes the film not that easy to crack. When you watch it, you follow everything, understand, think along. When you walk out of the cinema, you're left with a bundle of thoughts, and a feeling that you need to see it once more to understand everything said. The ending is not a cliché happy ending, which also brings the inglorious reality a step closer. Not everything goes the way intended, our lives and journeys are intruded by strangers in different ways. Some of those ways enable, others disable.
All in all a great film, definitely worth seeing, even more than once. Definite suggestion to those who enjoy pondering.

But this is not what I really wanted to say with the heading. The direct translation would be The road of the English, but the translation to both English and Estonian is Summer rain. See the film to compare relevance.
Pero la lluvia del verano es realmente bonita.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Mortalism

I got myself up from the bed. Ate. Drank two cups of tea (one black, one green). Wrote in my paper diary. Stole a blanket from my cat. Napped for about half an hour. Woke up. Found my heart pounding at an alarming pace. Conclusion: it doesn't really matter if you don't sleep properly, might as well stay up the whole night, because this is what the feeling is like. And my eyes are as red, or even worse.
Sleep, sleep, where'd you go?

Sleeplessness

It's 6:42 am and I'm wide awake. Some thoughts (and an increasingly empty stomach) keep bugging me, and just won't seem to give me peace. The real title of this post should be Lack of Information[/Communication], which is a line from a song by a band I have much affection for. And it is also something that has been quite an actual issue. First, whenever my parents have some little issues, stupid insignificant fights, I've always reminded them that Talk, Talk, Talk is what is needed to avoid those misunderstandings - just say 2 more sentences what you would keep in just to defy the other. Easy to say for a bystander. Sounds so stupidly simple, but works with the same fool-proof simplicity. Every time.
The second aspect is misjudging people. Happens every day, with everyone of us. In reality I suspect it cannot even Ever be completely avoided. It's just the way us humans are built. We already have a filter called mouth/verbal expression that sifts the information coming from our brains. The second filter in between is time. The third one would be the intake-formation of the receptor, ears or eyes mostly. The fourth, and also the most important filter, is the preset tune of who takes in what we give out. All those filters add to what causes all the misjudges, misunderstandings, misgodknowswhatmores.. They are impossible to eliminate, but could be diminished to almost zero, through experience. This last filter (and probably partially the first one for not picking the words used carefully enough) makes a compliment coming from one brain look like a breach of sacredness, attack, or just simple picking a fight to the other part. This is an overdoing of an example, but still illustrates what I mean the best.
The cool thing about friends is that you can let your guard down with them. You don't need to think through every single word you use, or the intonation, there's usually enough wordless communication to catch the thought from the air, so to say. Recently I've learnt with quite a bit of negative surprise that this is not how it really works. The more unexpected the blow comes, the more painful. Don't want to sound extra feeble, but when you realise how wrong the person you thought knew from half way, without words, what you meant, it's quite a stab in the back by unceremonious reality. You don't know why it really has gone wrong, but as time passes it leaves an eerie feeling that it will not go away any more. No matter how or what you'd say. Anything and everything can be easily turned against anyone, and once it unleashes, it doesn't seem to be undoable. Makes you think that maybe it was there from the very beginning - just a volcano erupting you once thought was a harmless mountain.
Crazy how people complicate their lives. Such simple things are twisted and turned, and who eventually suffers, are the twisters and turners. I guess it's a thing coded in us long ago - just can't have it (= life) easy.
I see the third, and perhaps the most raw occurrence of miscommunication, in our own heads. It's a one-to-one battle with your own brain. The hardest nut to crack. Self-deception happens all the time, we filter reality to ourselves, or just comfortably ignore some thought. Later on, when the thing comes up, we're in quite a bundle with our own thoughts, not that easy to disentangle. Some of us end up in mad-houses, the others cry their eyes out before going to bed, and wake up with a clear head. The most fucked up scenario is having conflicting things in your head. It's usually reason fighting emotion. Psychologists call it cognitive dissonance, and suggest several techniques for getting over it, but practice has shown that no other technique than time really helps. Maybe something else would work for people with lower levels of incapability.

But wouldn't it be nice if everything comes out the way intended? Not in the course of our lives, no, that would be plain boring (everything you do comes out nice? naaah.. I'll rather take some detours). But looking back at history, I suspect that so many big conflicts, maybe even the World Wars, have been a result of a petty little friction caused by miscommunication, and too little information..

And despite the world seemingly being aware of those issues, they are virtually impossible to avoid in reality. Or is it unwillingness instead of frecklessness? Makes me really damn sad when I realise once again how much is wrong. (But then the beauty smacks you in the face, and the perfect balance is back. That's how it goes - everyfuckingthing is in balance. Empty spaces are not tolerated. Action - reaction. )

It's 7:29am now, and I'm still not sleepy. Maybe it's better to wake up?

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Snap!

... and all of a sudden a sunset-yellow old English car rides past my balcony, through the backyard, and accelerates into the darkness of the night of the forest, with nothing but the lights illuminating the cold and wet autumnal lawn...

Hold tight, London

This morning, floating in between a perfect balance of despair, anxiety, curiosity, and fear of death, I cried my eye out when I finally got the best news I had been waiting for ... for about 7 months. I couldn't dare to expect anything but the worst, but the outcome was the best - even a bigger surprise. I got in to both University of Westminster, and Stirling University. Since Westminster was my firm acceptance, I am now obliged (with my biggest pleasure) to start digging up the wonderful depths of journalism from the end of September there. I have a place to live there already, just today sent in the renting contract, and also applied for a student loan. It is amazing how much more humane those matters are in the UK. For example, I don't have to start paying back my loan (for tuition fee) before my income overcomes some preset threshold.
Now I have to buy a one-way ticket to London, pack my two or three things, and take off. Life is such an adventure, and I can't wait to see what that new stopover has in store for me.
It all looks so promising, the mere thought is so sweetly intoxicating.. and it's all there just for me to take it all in..

My sincerest gratitude to those who stood behind me while I was a nervous wreck from all that waiting (among other things). Those who never judged, never turned their backs on me. Those who believed in me more than I did myself. Those who knew how, what, when - without a word..
It feels like I'd be surrounded by angels, but I call them my best friends. :)

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Regular rave

So, it's quite a pointless Sunday morning. Not as bright as it would be if I'd stayed at home, and watched idiotic tv shows with my parents.. Which I didn't. No, the Sunday morning is actually fine, but my head feels like a frisbee from sleeplessness and OH-grouped liquid substances.
Wow, the rain just got so hectic. I love it! Air was thick and white from the rain.
And now some lonely rays of sun squeeze themselves through the cloud blanket, just enough to make the nature look fresh and awake.
Umm.. Made some cool new acquaintances last night. I like new people. They refresh. New stories, new vibes, new energy.
Apart from bite marks on my cheek it's quite regular.
Same shit, different day. The only difference is that this time the feeling of knowing and accepting the SSDD is not oppressing at all. Acceptable on a very neutral, maybe even enjoyable level. This is the way everyday life should be like. Until it gets boring.
I'll go check out the last pages of The Rum Diary (Hunter S. Thompson).

Thursday, August 07, 2008

Soul function

I'm such a sucker for music.

Wednesday, August 06, 2008

Momentum

... and despite all the effort your objective sanity throws at you, you linger in your emotional wobbliness. Some say our mental states are our own game - we have the freedom to move the chessmen. But has the thought ever occurred that if there are more than one or two prevailing emotions, that are of equal strength, and fight over your brain capacity. Then it could easily go so that the person, who supposedly owns the brain in question, just loses any kind of control. Desperate efforts of getting it back just result in an even bigger bundle of mess. I so fucking wish I could easily just think things okay for myself. I'm not that powerful. I put up with the shit as long as I can, in the ways I can handle, clinging on to those slightly more bright thoughts as if in mortal fear. It's not that I wouldn't know that no matter what, it's going to be fine.. and all those obstacles thrown on my way right now, are good for something in the future, they teach and preach, make you a better person. The catch is that you can, in practice, only truly feel, know, and think in that way, when you look at the trouble retrospectively. It's easy for the bystanders to judge and label you instable, pessimistic, and what not, when they don't really know themselves how much heart you've put into something. The fear of losing something you've worked towards for more than two years, is frightening enough at this point of my life, to make me absolutely incapable of functioning alright on a mental level. Even if that fails, general stability would be nice for a change. Solutions will come soon, and on very many levels, I know I'll become a better person.. whatever the content then.
Right now I would really-really want to get my chi back. I'm so exhausted from waiting. One good thing is that I realised tonight, when I put my massive headphones on, that with giving myself time to finally listen and enjoy some good music (which I inconspicuously have failed doing due to all that business and headless running around in search for a better future and truth in life:D), I moved a bittie closer to my chi.
Understanding instead of condemnation is the key to harmonious co-existence. We're all humans, after all. Give time to breathe, take time to analyse (find a reason), give space for dissensions.
And now I'll have a nice cup of shut the fuck up, listen to music, and not give a damn about anything. I'll intoxicate in this feeling as long as my mind lets me. Or until the bloody painkiller wears off again, and the sublunary imperfections are reminded to me not that subtly.
I like this autumnal vibe, but I didn't get to charge my solar batteries. Always one moment/step short..

Monday, August 04, 2008

Submission

It's late summer, but I'd rather call it early autumn. Two days ago I sensed a different scent in the wind. It was the scent of autumn, greeting us with the first chilly breeze. Now the rain carries on the slow prelude that takes us to the colourful sound of autumn songs. I've never understood why is it that people dislike autumn that much. I think it has a certain beauty in it, and I must also admit I've always loved wearing layers of clothes. It's sufficiently cold for a scarf and a hat, which I both enjoy wearing also. But this is so very trivial. I feel my brain functions the best in autumn. When it's cold outside, there's more space for relevant thoughts, mind-tracks.. Perhaps I feel all of this because autumn has this implicit melancholy echo, which I somehow can relate to. I know I think too much, I relish in my thoughts and the next moment drown in them. It's like an addiction, you love doing it until the quicksand swallows you with no mercy, and despite ..
.. okay this shall be continued. I just violated a thought or something I came up with previously. My conclusion to give up putting effort into black holes failed. I'm going to drive in my bizarre state of mind to town, and see what's cooking. I'm craving for stability, but hunting on an erupting volcano.