You are back, inside and settled. And just like in the last time, I sense your unequivocal presence, making home in the core of my guts, misting my ideas with your usual salutations.
Uninvited just like always, you take command, and choose to make the important decisions of the unexpected moments. I have no choice but to fear you, and to have a chat of pledge with my visions.
You have found the keys again, and settled; I tried to hide, to forget, to ignore, but I am human too, and I am vulnerable to you, just like anybody else who has tasted life and seen it all. I have learned to nourish you right inside my soul.
In a sharp feeling sense, you kick in, I feel sick, dizzy and temperamental. I have no patience not even for my casual thoughts, those that I get to use once in a while to feel special, and here you are.
Time rolls back, as I know a new change is in order, and you wait here, patiently, ready to charge, just like before.
You are “Anxiety” and I detest you.
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Monday, July 7, 2008
Monday, June 30, 2008
Looking up.
Three hours, one hundred and eighty minutes, ten thousand and eight hundred seconds, and then I am there. I find loneliness, or familiarity, I sense coldness, or anticipation, I see hope, or regrets.
During the course of the journey, I often times dream, I listen to myself, and usually try to imagine with vivid images from my mind what would it be if… I had chosen different things.
There is nothing else I can do; I need to waste the time, with no more expectations than just keeping awake, alert and conscious.
I see the fields run vigorously in my eyes, giving me the perspective of being stationary in the quick vortex of my head, just when I feel I am getting lost and scared, the well defined chaos in which my ideas transform thanks to the mix of boredom, and tiredness take over, and just like that I hear myself.
I usually have music on, I pretend there’s nothing else to look forward than just the stories that are told by the sounds I hear. When the contemporary violins of “Bond” come in, I imagine it is me who plays energetically to the rhythm of the Romanian Rhapsody, and I have an audience who appreciates and admires with envy my unequivocal talent. Suddenly I have to join, and start singing the chorus of songs that I can’t even sing. If the music got muted, I would sound like a howling dog.
Then I start thinking too much… the one quality I can get to hate. I begin looking for answers to questions I shouldn’t be asking in the first place. I can sense that there’s nothing else in my spirit than the pure sensation of someone who looks at a plane go away with his desires inside, and he has been left behind.
I am here… present, going back and forward between my freedom and my jail. I can see and hate myself for hating. I punish my feelings, until I find self resignation.
I am here… left behind as I see the world turn and disappear right through the vision of my window.
During the course of the journey, I often times dream, I listen to myself, and usually try to imagine with vivid images from my mind what would it be if… I had chosen different things.
There is nothing else I can do; I need to waste the time, with no more expectations than just keeping awake, alert and conscious.
I see the fields run vigorously in my eyes, giving me the perspective of being stationary in the quick vortex of my head, just when I feel I am getting lost and scared, the well defined chaos in which my ideas transform thanks to the mix of boredom, and tiredness take over, and just like that I hear myself.
I usually have music on, I pretend there’s nothing else to look forward than just the stories that are told by the sounds I hear. When the contemporary violins of “Bond” come in, I imagine it is me who plays energetically to the rhythm of the Romanian Rhapsody, and I have an audience who appreciates and admires with envy my unequivocal talent. Suddenly I have to join, and start singing the chorus of songs that I can’t even sing. If the music got muted, I would sound like a howling dog.
Then I start thinking too much… the one quality I can get to hate. I begin looking for answers to questions I shouldn’t be asking in the first place. I can sense that there’s nothing else in my spirit than the pure sensation of someone who looks at a plane go away with his desires inside, and he has been left behind.
I am here… present, going back and forward between my freedom and my jail. I can see and hate myself for hating. I punish my feelings, until I find self resignation.
I am here… left behind as I see the world turn and disappear right through the vision of my window.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Inspiration
I was unaware, and I opened my eyes, the door, and my mind
Suddenly the glass door, that one that closes by the force of an overstretched spring
slowly condensed with the cool wet breeze of an early morning.
I witness how the translucent becomes opaque; slowly, sublime,
I didn’t move, holding a bag in my hands, I felt light, ready.
The air was cold, with anticipation and hope.
I touched the fragile cover of watery consistency,
And my finger was the brush; the door the canvas.
And in sense and spirit, I marked a path.
Slowly, unstoppable, it created, shaped and ran.
The shapes, the art, was all there, being born,
And I witnessed what I knew wouldn’t last
My eyes filled with possibilities, my hands were wet
The lines changed, the circles joined, and it was mine
My work of art, of inspiration… my piece of mind
Just like I imagined as a child, tears were from heaven
The condensation gave up, and erased the tales
Those that I made up in my head and that my finger brought to life
I step back, half of what it was, was already gone
I looked, and smiled, thankful and aware
Of the gift that I allowed myself to get.
The gift of sudden,
The beauty of fragile
The privilege of a stolen smile.
The tears of condensation.
The ones that were from heaven,
Now running in my eyes.
SDIH (05/29/2008)
Suddenly the glass door, that one that closes by the force of an overstretched spring
slowly condensed with the cool wet breeze of an early morning.
I witness how the translucent becomes opaque; slowly, sublime,
I didn’t move, holding a bag in my hands, I felt light, ready.
The air was cold, with anticipation and hope.
I touched the fragile cover of watery consistency,
And my finger was the brush; the door the canvas.
And in sense and spirit, I marked a path.
Slowly, unstoppable, it created, shaped and ran.
The shapes, the art, was all there, being born,
And I witnessed what I knew wouldn’t last
My eyes filled with possibilities, my hands were wet
The lines changed, the circles joined, and it was mine
My work of art, of inspiration… my piece of mind
Just like I imagined as a child, tears were from heaven
The condensation gave up, and erased the tales
Those that I made up in my head and that my finger brought to life
I step back, half of what it was, was already gone
I looked, and smiled, thankful and aware
Of the gift that I allowed myself to get.
The gift of sudden,
The beauty of fragile
The privilege of a stolen smile.
The tears of condensation.
The ones that were from heaven,
Now running in my eyes.
SDIH (05/29/2008)
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
The Figures in my mind
Lost, inside myself are the shapes of the past
Those that translate into memories, erased from the bottom of my soul.
Found, inside myself are the new rules of my heart
Those that are now shielded, smarter and ready to talk
Dead, inside myself is my wishful set of hopes
Those that once near killed me, that filled my innocence with holes
Alive, inside myself are my real expectations
Those that are made of adult desires, like morgages or affection.
past, inside myself is the time I spent
That that made me vulnerable, in which love tried to pretend.
Now, inside myself are my hungry ideas
Those that were asleep, waiting for winter to end.
Inside myself is me
the one who once dreamed, once feared, once cried, once hoped...
The who now acts, now demands, now escapes, now fights...
the one who will...
SDIH (2008)
Those that translate into memories, erased from the bottom of my soul.
Found, inside myself are the new rules of my heart
Those that are now shielded, smarter and ready to talk
Dead, inside myself is my wishful set of hopes
Those that once near killed me, that filled my innocence with holes
Alive, inside myself are my real expectations
Those that are made of adult desires, like morgages or affection.
past, inside myself is the time I spent
That that made me vulnerable, in which love tried to pretend.
Now, inside myself are my hungry ideas
Those that were asleep, waiting for winter to end.
Inside myself is me
the one who once dreamed, once feared, once cried, once hoped...
The who now acts, now demands, now escapes, now fights...
the one who will...
SDIH (2008)
When you look up and down
When you look up and down, and come to the realization that life offers you several options, but circumstances shape and force you into just a few of them, it is not until then, that you are able to figure your destiny according to plan, or to make a plan at least.
Life can be described in many different ways. I think that the recipe has a few key ingredients, such as luck, desires, wishes, needs, and moreover, what some people call motivation, but I prefer to identify as determination.
Attitude is just the mask that we put to our actions, whether good or bad, they don’t always represent the reality of what attitude is supposed to portrait: Emotions.
Emotions on the other hand are the first thing we learn to shade and shield. Emotions make us vulnerable, weak, innocent, charming, angry, happy, loving, silly, senseless, idiots. Emotions make us young, and most of the times naïve.
The simplicity of the complexity of life is truly overwhelming. People write about the different aspects that shape the principles of living. They worship the failures; Love the vulnerabilities offered by our inexperience, that rich inexperience that in my perspective, makes us charming, desirable and willing.
Life can be described in many different ways; to me, it is a journey, where the point of living is about the little things that can secretly scratch a smile out of your system. The pleasures you enjoy from the inside, that piece of music, that group of words, the look of the eyes of people in pictures, the tiny senses that we choose to ignore.
The journey can be unacknowledged, leaving us living life like objects live in a house, mere spectators of the passing life, unable to interact, to tell a story, and more importantly, to create one. Anyone can create anecdotes, but just those lucky enough to discover the beauty of living in the simple things, can truly create the canvas for stories; with a beginning, a core, and an end.
These stories, sometimes are sad, sometimes are dull, a few times happy, and as we grow, they tend to be loaded with sarcasm, that just shields those emotions that we have chosen to keep far from everybody, including ourselves. Then it is when it hit us, we become perfect strangers to ourselves, writing stories that are dictated by our fears, rather than by out true emotions, with the fake kind inspiration.
When life gets too real, we stop learning to be inspired, and start learning to create expectations based on the superficial basis of necessity and ambition; ambition that you can purchase on sale on the nearest Costco.
Changing the rhythm, the sounds, the scripts, the stories, the emotions, the sarcasm, the journey, the life… making it simple, living the today, getting what we need, stopping for a second to breathe, to take a deep breath, and to observe. Looking around us and allowing each of the little sources of inspiration feed that forgotten vitality that we have the honor to own: our souls.
One word can change a poem, one idea can change a song, one motto can change a story, and a different perspective, can create a life instead of changing it.
This is the rhapsody of what I believe life is all about. Use it or throw it, but there is only one way to understand it; you have to share it.
Life is simple… as simple as an atom, and yet, so undecipherable and complex, just like the thoughts we have when our life demands an upgrade…. And that so many of us, choose to ignore.
Life can be described in many different ways. I think that the recipe has a few key ingredients, such as luck, desires, wishes, needs, and moreover, what some people call motivation, but I prefer to identify as determination.
Attitude is just the mask that we put to our actions, whether good or bad, they don’t always represent the reality of what attitude is supposed to portrait: Emotions.
Emotions on the other hand are the first thing we learn to shade and shield. Emotions make us vulnerable, weak, innocent, charming, angry, happy, loving, silly, senseless, idiots. Emotions make us young, and most of the times naïve.
The simplicity of the complexity of life is truly overwhelming. People write about the different aspects that shape the principles of living. They worship the failures; Love the vulnerabilities offered by our inexperience, that rich inexperience that in my perspective, makes us charming, desirable and willing.
Life can be described in many different ways; to me, it is a journey, where the point of living is about the little things that can secretly scratch a smile out of your system. The pleasures you enjoy from the inside, that piece of music, that group of words, the look of the eyes of people in pictures, the tiny senses that we choose to ignore.
The journey can be unacknowledged, leaving us living life like objects live in a house, mere spectators of the passing life, unable to interact, to tell a story, and more importantly, to create one. Anyone can create anecdotes, but just those lucky enough to discover the beauty of living in the simple things, can truly create the canvas for stories; with a beginning, a core, and an end.
These stories, sometimes are sad, sometimes are dull, a few times happy, and as we grow, they tend to be loaded with sarcasm, that just shields those emotions that we have chosen to keep far from everybody, including ourselves. Then it is when it hit us, we become perfect strangers to ourselves, writing stories that are dictated by our fears, rather than by out true emotions, with the fake kind inspiration.
When life gets too real, we stop learning to be inspired, and start learning to create expectations based on the superficial basis of necessity and ambition; ambition that you can purchase on sale on the nearest Costco.
Changing the rhythm, the sounds, the scripts, the stories, the emotions, the sarcasm, the journey, the life… making it simple, living the today, getting what we need, stopping for a second to breathe, to take a deep breath, and to observe. Looking around us and allowing each of the little sources of inspiration feed that forgotten vitality that we have the honor to own: our souls.
One word can change a poem, one idea can change a song, one motto can change a story, and a different perspective, can create a life instead of changing it.
This is the rhapsody of what I believe life is all about. Use it or throw it, but there is only one way to understand it; you have to share it.
Life is simple… as simple as an atom, and yet, so undecipherable and complex, just like the thoughts we have when our life demands an upgrade…. And that so many of us, choose to ignore.
Last Night
Last night, I stopped believing in simplicity. The whole concept of independence became a mere stranger and in serious risk of extinction. Let me explain:
I realized that no matter how small, isolated, or simple events seem to be, they are usually not. They have a reason, and many times, they just happen to be part of either a cycle or a chain of events that lead to something and nothing at the same time.
When you believe that the series of events have finally gotten you somewhere, you then open your eyes, and realize you have just climbed another step on the staircase rather than reaching the level, you just set foot on a whole new fly of steps.
What I figured, is that no matter how insignificant something seems to be, I firmly believe that life and the universe, are somehow interconnected and anything that happens has some sort of co-dependence with the set of rules and lines that shape one’s life.
I suddenly realized of how much we tend to miss because we are so used to not paying attention to the string of life, to those events that appear to be insignificant, but that are so pure and so crucial for the curse of our lives.
Then the mist of confusion appears, because we are so obsessed with the huge signs that we can’t see the set of events that are showing us the options that we have for a successful life.
Last night, I moved to a whole new year, and I realized that the one that just passed, will never come back; except for the eventual dreams, fears, traumas and thought that will cross my mind once in a while.
Today am an evolved version of myself. Today I have understood one simple rule… that turned out to be truly complicated. Today, I changed.
SDIH (2008)
I realized that no matter how small, isolated, or simple events seem to be, they are usually not. They have a reason, and many times, they just happen to be part of either a cycle or a chain of events that lead to something and nothing at the same time.
When you believe that the series of events have finally gotten you somewhere, you then open your eyes, and realize you have just climbed another step on the staircase rather than reaching the level, you just set foot on a whole new fly of steps.
What I figured, is that no matter how insignificant something seems to be, I firmly believe that life and the universe, are somehow interconnected and anything that happens has some sort of co-dependence with the set of rules and lines that shape one’s life.
I suddenly realized of how much we tend to miss because we are so used to not paying attention to the string of life, to those events that appear to be insignificant, but that are so pure and so crucial for the curse of our lives.
Then the mist of confusion appears, because we are so obsessed with the huge signs that we can’t see the set of events that are showing us the options that we have for a successful life.
Last night, I moved to a whole new year, and I realized that the one that just passed, will never come back; except for the eventual dreams, fears, traumas and thought that will cross my mind once in a while.
Today am an evolved version of myself. Today I have understood one simple rule… that turned out to be truly complicated. Today, I changed.
SDIH (2008)
Who am I
I am a little bit the reflection of where I come from; a culture, a bunch of free smiles, laughs, hugs, tons of kisses, people that looks at your eyes when they speak, people who dances and smiles just for the sick of it, we just don't seem to pay too much attention on how much we cry, smile, laugh or curse at all... and at some point... I am that.
I try to understand why I am unable to accept a different perspective.
The sound of my culture buffers every single place of my heart and mind, a different flavour, a more spiced way of living.
Different concepts then seem to have a very well defined shape, but they just don't seem to make any sense to me while the rest feel completely identified with them.
Space, perhaps the biggest treassure of some.. while for me it hasn't been locked since I don't know when... Feelings that are so hidden, that hurt, and that stress of always making sure you dont step over them .... that is the most frustrating part of all.
Life is all about how you decide to live it, some .. think it is better to watch every step they take.. and perhaps, those are the ones that always make it to be very old... I wouldn't mind that much loosing it all at once... I have gotten so much so far anyway.
SDIH (2006)
I try to understand why I am unable to accept a different perspective.
The sound of my culture buffers every single place of my heart and mind, a different flavour, a more spiced way of living.
Different concepts then seem to have a very well defined shape, but they just don't seem to make any sense to me while the rest feel completely identified with them.
Space, perhaps the biggest treassure of some.. while for me it hasn't been locked since I don't know when... Feelings that are so hidden, that hurt, and that stress of always making sure you dont step over them .... that is the most frustrating part of all.
Life is all about how you decide to live it, some .. think it is better to watch every step they take.. and perhaps, those are the ones that always make it to be very old... I wouldn't mind that much loosing it all at once... I have gotten so much so far anyway.
SDIH (2006)
Life as it is
sometimes a story, can reflect the inside of one person. Not even the facts transform, but perhaps get enriched by the reflection of that person´s mind, their love and their abbility to imagine.
How many times have we told the right story, the real facts?, when would it be much better to have put our minds in that simple state, where things are just the way we want them to be like?
When did I loose the power of making my creativity lead my actions and perhaps create the stories... making them real... giving them power and life, and even some people may not think it is the right thing to do... Who are they to tell?
What is the difference between understanding life and living life?, that those who want to understand, most of the times get more lost and end up living up the facts...while those who dare to live... can see beyond, and can make a simple story.. the greatest adventure of their life.
There is no difference between saying what you want, or saying what it was, if at the end... you get through the right message and give life a chance to show how fantastic it really is.
SDIH (2005)
How many times have we told the right story, the real facts?, when would it be much better to have put our minds in that simple state, where things are just the way we want them to be like?
When did I loose the power of making my creativity lead my actions and perhaps create the stories... making them real... giving them power and life, and even some people may not think it is the right thing to do... Who are they to tell?
What is the difference between understanding life and living life?, that those who want to understand, most of the times get more lost and end up living up the facts...while those who dare to live... can see beyond, and can make a simple story.. the greatest adventure of their life.
There is no difference between saying what you want, or saying what it was, if at the end... you get through the right message and give life a chance to show how fantastic it really is.
SDIH (2005)
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