Don't Fear the Reaper

Every day I receive the about.com Classic Poem newsletter. The poem today was funny and got me thinking :)

The Clod and the Pebble
Poem lyrics of The Clod and the Pebble by William Blake

"Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care,
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a heaven in hell's despair."

So sung a little clod of clay,
Trodden with the cattle's feet;
But a pebble of the brook
Warbled out these meters meet:

"Love seeketh only Self to please,
To bind another to its delight,
Joys in another's loss of ease,
And builds a hell in heaven's despite."

Hey Eugene, stop worrying!

Flashes of light like the Pink Martini concert in Bucharest last Saturday make up for even the longest nights staying awake to work. The silence as the ensemble were performing classical music, molten with South American or Japanese music (“Taya Tan” was unbelievable!), all sounding so European, so continental, made me love the “Portland, Oregon” band even more. It was not only the music that thrilled me, but also the atmosphere – they were there to entertain, and we all could feel that. They sang with such passion and longing, that the music touched us all and made us feel warm inside.

My thought for the evening was that, if we all would be as passionate about what we do as Pink Martini about what they are singing, perhaps the world would really change starting with us.

PS: I saw Dr Strangelove yesterday. Must see for crazy people who like odd comedy movies.

Hey Eugene do you remember me?

Im that chick you danced with two times through the Roofers album Friday night at that party

(Pink Martini, Hey Eugene)

I really love my job ;)

A few days ago my boss reminded me he was reading my blog (and enjoying especially the song lyrics... :) pfblaaa). So should I be asking for raises and such online in future? :D

There's no rule that says you have to wake up. Fishism

Complicated things make life more complicated than it is, bring a lot of pain and headache. So I usually try to keep stuff as simple as possible - both in my professional and personal life. That is not to express avoidance about more complex situations - they can also be split down in more simple ones. Remember how you eat an elephant? By pieces.

This morning I was reminded of Ally, the famous emotionally wrecked lawyer of my highschool years:

Ally McBeal: I like being a mess. It's who I am.

Renée Radick: Emotionally, you're an idiot.

Georgia Thomas: Ally, what makes your problems so much bigger than everybody else's?
Ally McBeal: They're mine.

Ally McBeal: Maybe I'm happy and I just don't know it.

Ally McBeal: Maybe I'll share my life with somebody... maybe not. But the truth is, when I think back of my loneliest moments, there was usually somebody sitting there next to me.

Ally McBeal: There's no sin in loving men. Only pain!

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
(Vonda Shepard, Vincent (Starry Starry Night))

Cet obscur objet du désir

You told me that you had seen too much of the world to see the world inside me. And yet, perhaps the worlds you hadn't found yet were filled with what you were searching for.

I have educated myself to behave - and to respect the wishes and covets of others in such a way as to keep them happy and safe. However, respecting the dreams of others to the extent of disregarding your own is something I would not recommend. It leads to a heartache that bites more into you than fulfilled wishes. It so comes that that we store past relations that did not work or brought us pain in secret little drawers in our hearts and minds. The random occurrence of memories then intensifies gradually a feeling of indifference we choose over pain or anything else, because it soothes us. Sometimes it is not indifference, it is hate, or violence, or revenge... but I am quite sure of the non-usefulness of such emotions. Besides consuming us, they only bring negativity, not comfort, which is what our souls are seeking...

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. . . . And then one fine morning—So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.
(F Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby)

Let me in, I want to be your friend

I like writing this blog because there are some of you out there who enjoy reading it and also telling me about it. And also because it's fun :-)

During the day, there are so many things that happen. I sometimes wish I had a printer in my head, to print out all the thoughts that go on, the images that are born every second. As that is impossible right now, I just write some words about it – and it gives me that feeling of security you have when storing the cheese in the refrigerator: you know it won't rot :-)

Anyway, keep reading and I hope I will keep on writing... for as long as there is life, there will always be something to say about it.

Baby this town rips the bones from your back
Its a death trap, its a suicide rap
We gotta get out while were young
'cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run
(Bruce Springsteen, Born to Run)

Everloving

Wishing what you wish for can dig holes in your soul, because people are not to blame for your emotional storms. Even if we always try to set the blame on others, it is still a matter of self consciousness how you treat those emotions, how you let them flow and how you direct them in order to keep others or yourself from pain. People cannot be held responsible for your reaction to their behaviour. It's all a game that is played in your mind.

There are times when the voices inside me beg for a scream, and all I have for you is smile and warmth.

Lord God Almighty let me tell the news
my head got wet in midnight dew
great God i been down on my bended knee
stalking to a man from galilee
michael spoke and he sound so sweet
i thought i heard the shuffle of angels' feet
He put one hand upon my head
great God Almighty let me tell you what He said
(Moby, Run On)