What is written here is meant to light a thought, and maybe to inspire. It is less to inform, than to shed light on aspects of life that may go unnoticed otherwise.
It must not always be sensuous and lustering. You must not show much skin, nor grin broadly, nor try to impress me with your knowledge. Nor smell like vanilla, or even chocolate, nor dance so much that throwing your hat onto the table should make the bottles of beer tremble. Not cherish the closure to make me feel trapped, nor too much of a distance to make me wonder if you are there. It is in your honesty and in your eyes when they are glowing with your heart. It never ceases to touch me in ways never understood by others, in secrets we forget and then reinvent. It opens you up to me, and takes my fear away from being hurt. Never rush – maybe it will be afraid and it will run away from you, not remembering that it needs you to exist. It resides in you barely touching my hand, and talking to me, and listening to me, not easy to forget, hard to let go. Just breathing your name makes me happy. For it is you.
There's a wind that blows in from the north, And it says that loving takes its course. Come here. Come here. No I'm not impossible to touch, I have never wanted you so much. Come here. Come here. Have I never laid down by your side? Baby, let's forget about this pride. Come here. Come here. Well, I'm in no hurry. You don't have to run away this time. I know that you're timid,but it's gonna be all right this time. (Kath Bloom, Come Here)
While listening to the song the first time, I thought the end line said "I know that you're leaving, but it's gonna be alright this time".
First of all, let me tell you that I don't believe in absolutes. I believe that everything is relative to a certain time and place, especially human relationships. I also believe each encounter we have is meant to teach us something in life, help us move on or make us reflect on what we really want to do. Tonight, on returning from a visit to my dear aunt, I listened to a melody which I used to listen to in times of depression: A-ha, I'll Never Get Over You.
While listening to it again, especially after the clarity the mountains gave me, it got another meaning. You stay around people as long as they are interesting for you, as long as there is a difference they bring to your life that other people fail to do. At some point they become “common”, or you can't spend as much time together, or for whatever reasons you part and you start looking for meaning elsewhere. Here is where the “can't get over” part jumps in. There are people you can't get over. No matter how hard you try, they stick so hard in your mind and soul, and you remember them and see them in places you went to together and in touches of the seasons, in walks and symbols. So deep is your impression of them, that you start having imaginary conversations with them while walking, and even there is mud under your feet, you can still rise your head up and say “this is a great day”. Great, because you've had the chance to meet them, to spend time with them, to love them.
I could go on endlessly about these special people. They may be family, or friends, or maybe teachers or even people you've briefly met on voyages. Their faces and your shared experiences build a special world you truly can never get over.
And so – I refuse to believe that this song is about an obsessive love story, unrequited love or other sickness of the heart. It is a song of the endless loves of the moment that fill us and make us who we are.
You say you want some fun You're not the only one Not the only one And you say you wanna run You're not the only one Not the only one (A-ha, You'll never get over me)
There is a certain indulgence in writing a blog. You take the risk of being read by people who will not understand what you are writing about and will take their own round of interpretations, suited to an individual degree of knowing and interest in you. It's easier when you accept that all that you are writing falls into an abyss of words – sometimes not spoken and at times only uttered during daytime. Some may call it hypocrisy of the thought, while it is more a certain lack of direction. You write for yourself, sometimes launching messages incorrectly understood by the ones who read you. But that doesn't matter, because for you the act of writing unleashes the sort of internal energy which lets you whisper “yes, and now they will understand”. Well they don't.
Last week I returned from Austria with the clear vision and lasting happiness only snowy mountains and cold mountain lakes could give me. Certain things cleared up like the clouds from the hills in the morning, and sadness vanished as though it never was there. My friends and I have often had debates regarding the futility of persisting in dreaming the dreams and not living them out. So I was very glad to feel how cold thinking can really push dreams further into reality. Just like putting on the right pair of glasses, future now unwinds clearly and though unforeseen, the path is not frightful anymore but rewarding.
Wrapped in your arms where it's peaceful Back in your arms where I'm happy I would do anything gladly Only to see you again (Gloria Estefan, Wrapped)
I asked my mother once "Where do you go when there is nowhere left to go" and she told me "You die". The truth is never that simple though - you never die at the right moment, nor does the earth swallow you at the point where you would zapp it into doing just that.
It won't come as a surprise if I tell you the earth never cooperated on my hardest times, so I had to be inventive and get out of quite some messes. Blushing usually helped in the first few seconds but then you should really be able to say someting more. The point is what - and in the last months I have reached the conclusion that saying nothing at all can bring you more than anything. In spite of being more painful, of course.
Cred ca indrazneala e o functie de capacitate de a visa. Cu cat visezi mai mult, cu atat mai putin timp ai pentru a iti realiza visele. Si daca doar visezi, fara sa incerci sa faci ca visele tale sa se intample in realitate, esti ca o barca in voia vantului.
Am incetat sa cred ca exista un rost in a crede ca lasitatea poate sa fie justificata.
How much of a total nerd must you be to miss the right subway, take the next, have it get you to the wrong station and needing to further switch subways, get to the railway station exactly on time to miss the person you actually shouldn't be expecting and then seeing them again in the subway, on the way home? And most especially, how can you explain the entire mess without making it seem like a fable?
The things I don't plan come out as if I had planned them a long time and the things I do plan go completely amok. There must be something I'm doing right.
Show a little faith there's magic in the night You ain't a beauty but hey you're alright Oh and that's alright with me (Bruce Springsteen, Thunder Road)
