it has all started a long time ago
maybe 6-7years down the road
in between two sips of coffee
in between two-three heaps of books
grammatical exercises
and your desire to teach
it has all started a long long time ago
and now that you reread the script
you smile at the petty mistakes
the unnecessary twits and turns
of certain stories
smile at the heated emotions of your heart
smile at the fate of main- and episode-characters
it has all started a long-long-long time ago
and although at times things went so smooth
your viewers started to toy with the idea to call it a day
and feared that you will finish the soapy of your love-life...
... the long-logn-long-long time creates history
history creat new rules working within new settings
and though your script may be clearer
the dear viewer cannot but smile
at the impossible ways in which you get yourself entangled
in an over-complicated net of emotions
i only hope the viewer deep-inside cheers for..
a) a happy ending
b) many new adventures
c) some further complications before certain final-semi-final solutions
...
and most of all i hope you who read me-know-me-dont-know-me enjoy
riding on my eee-motional rollercoaster, it's fun, isn't it?
Friday, 28 December 2007
Saturday, 22 December 2007
what we want
What if...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ueYeX6Xs2E&feature=related
....if only IF ONLY IF ONLY
(hesitation didnt exist)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ueYeX6Xs2E&feature=related
....if only IF ONLY IF ONLY
(hesitation didnt exist)
Monday, 17 December 2007
Jingle jingle
you dream about doctors and black guys
a painful scar being healed and
your ability to talk about you inner things returned
you sleep sound and awake
walking through a flat almost ready to be decorated
the 'transit'-feeling returns and you feel as if something was about to happen to you...just now, it is happening and very soon you will know what it is and you feel focused you want to live..or even better you want to LIVE (with capital letters)and breath in.out.in.out
you get your hair cut. same style as it was some years ago...not because you would want to turn back but because you feel much calmer and smooth
maybe all of this is just about readiness.
im ready. we can go now.
would you join?
a painful scar being healed and
your ability to talk about you inner things returned
you sleep sound and awake
walking through a flat almost ready to be decorated
the 'transit'-feeling returns and you feel as if something was about to happen to you...just now, it is happening and very soon you will know what it is and you feel focused you want to live..or even better you want to LIVE (with capital letters)and breath in.out.in.out
you get your hair cut. same style as it was some years ago...not because you would want to turn back but because you feel much calmer and smooth
maybe all of this is just about readiness.
im ready. we can go now.
would you join?
Monday, 10 December 2007
out-standing
it's friday night and a Santa-party with pple unknown to you
you feel tired and uneasy having to dress up unsure about the dress-code
you put on the balck-and-red (Standhal) dress with the funny belt
a little make-up (uffa, the hairdresser shldnt wait for long now)
and you step in
irritated by the english spoken inside (wasnt it supposed to be a Hun.party for a change?)
you find yourself sitting at a corner drinking your rose speaking ...
when all of a sudden you realize you dont belong
you speak english with a beautiful accent (Aussie-American-British-god-knows), Italian with a passable accent(clearly Hun.) and Hungarian with an accent...of a foreigner.
you get asked where are you from?
and you feel torn when answering Hungary.
you dont feel like facing the 'wow, really'...
you dont want to feel like an outsider any more.
you realize you are like the white girl grown up among the indians.
you never belong anywhere..you are always somewhere in between.
of course, this in between is always a place-defined-by-others.
When abroad you are the Hungarian who speaks fantastic '...whatever..'
- you can get to know and make friends, all there.
When at home and among foreigners you are the local who speaks....you know..
- you can mix with, have fun, feel multiculti.
When in love with a foreigner you are the girl from Eastern Europe who...
- is different.
at times
i dont like to be different.
you feel tired and uneasy having to dress up unsure about the dress-code
you put on the balck-and-red (Standhal) dress with the funny belt
a little make-up (uffa, the hairdresser shldnt wait for long now)
and you step in
irritated by the english spoken inside (wasnt it supposed to be a Hun.party for a change?)
you find yourself sitting at a corner drinking your rose speaking ...
when all of a sudden you realize you dont belong
you speak english with a beautiful accent (Aussie-American-British-god-knows), Italian with a passable accent(clearly Hun.) and Hungarian with an accent...of a foreigner.
you get asked where are you from?
and you feel torn when answering Hungary.
you dont feel like facing the 'wow, really'...
you dont want to feel like an outsider any more.
you realize you are like the white girl grown up among the indians.
you never belong anywhere..you are always somewhere in between.
of course, this in between is always a place-defined-by-others.
When abroad you are the Hungarian who speaks fantastic '...whatever..'
- you can get to know and make friends, all there.
When at home and among foreigners you are the local who speaks....you know..
- you can mix with, have fun, feel multiculti.
When in love with a foreigner you are the girl from Eastern Europe who...
- is different.
at times
i dont like to be different.
Monday, 3 December 2007
mancanza
nn mi sento incompleto
né completo
fa freddo
dovrei lavorare
ma
'i cant seem to find the right melody today'
e il part che ripete
(come se fosse un cuore che batte)
'you're hear and im here so i stop complaining'
nn é vero
e nn sará mai
e odio l'idea di essere
il miglior confidente
solo.
e sola.
né completo
fa freddo
dovrei lavorare
ma
'i cant seem to find the right melody today'
e il part che ripete
(come se fosse un cuore che batte)
'you're hear and im here so i stop complaining'
nn é vero
e nn sará mai
e odio l'idea di essere
il miglior confidente
solo.
e sola.
Sunday, 2 December 2007
the crust around
stava camminando sotto la pioggia
her arms were full of goosebums as the water cooled and carressed her skin
it was five in the afternoon and heavy traffic downtown Twincity
she left the car somewhere in the middle
close to the Green Bridge
her parent gaping at the backseets
as she crossed between the cars she felt a huge storm breaking out
all was dark
within and without
and she started to cry raindrops that fell to the asphalf under her feet
creating rivers and ponds
her feet staggering and mumbling unnkown fragments of words
crossed over the river and carried her to a warm fireplace
this was the last time anyone so her cry in pain
by the time she finished a crust was built around her
a crust that holds all moist within
even when she would want to
weep and thunder
like a storm
her arms were full of goosebums as the water cooled and carressed her skin
it was five in the afternoon and heavy traffic downtown Twincity
she left the car somewhere in the middle
close to the Green Bridge
her parent gaping at the backseets
as she crossed between the cars she felt a huge storm breaking out
all was dark
within and without
and she started to cry raindrops that fell to the asphalf under her feet
creating rivers and ponds
her feet staggering and mumbling unnkown fragments of words
crossed over the river and carried her to a warm fireplace
this was the last time anyone so her cry in pain
by the time she finished a crust was built around her
a crust that holds all moist within
even when she would want to
weep and thunder
like a storm
Saturday, 24 November 2007
being (ir)rational
being rational is totally irrational
it is often more rational to be irrational
???
i know.
but it is simple
some people want to act extremely rational
all the time
while they forget
that deep inside
we are all irrational
therefore
being irrational (sometimes) is the most rational thing to do.
???
jujt imagine:
you are walking down the street and someone puts a gun to your head
and asks for you money
('pénzt vagy életet...majdnem lenni vagy nemlenni jellegű dilemma)
what do you do?
well, thinking rational you say
no, i wont give you anything and hey,
i've got a gun too so if you shoot me, i'll shoot you and we will both be dead.
but:
what if the person putting the gun to your head
is a crazy idiot (or acts like) totally out of control (so it seems to you);
in this case you are more likely to say:
okay, okay, i'll give you all i have, just calm down, keep calm.
why?
because your reason concludes that he wont care about his life
so threatening back is not going to save you.
he acts irrational(crazy) which in this case is the most rational behaviour ...
after all, he wants to scare you and get what he wants.
i wonder if people (especially women) use such irrational behaviours
in a rational way in order to get what they want;
i also wonder if im being irrational
when i rationally decide
not to act irrational
and i also wonder (feeling confused and ashamed)
why is it, that wanting to be rational(that is in control)
has this boomerang effect on me
and my behavior
that all of a sudden
(eg. when my reason is blurred due to alcoooool)
becomes irrational
(violent, hysteric...)
which is the real me?
it is often more rational to be irrational
???
i know.
but it is simple
some people want to act extremely rational
all the time
while they forget
that deep inside
we are all irrational
therefore
being irrational (sometimes) is the most rational thing to do.
???
jujt imagine:
you are walking down the street and someone puts a gun to your head
and asks for you money
('pénzt vagy életet...majdnem lenni vagy nemlenni jellegű dilemma)
what do you do?
well, thinking rational you say
no, i wont give you anything and hey,
i've got a gun too so if you shoot me, i'll shoot you and we will both be dead.
but:
what if the person putting the gun to your head
is a crazy idiot (or acts like) totally out of control (so it seems to you);
in this case you are more likely to say:
okay, okay, i'll give you all i have, just calm down, keep calm.
why?
because your reason concludes that he wont care about his life
so threatening back is not going to save you.
he acts irrational(crazy) which in this case is the most rational behaviour ...
after all, he wants to scare you and get what he wants.
...
i wonder if people (especially women) use such irrational behaviours
in a rational way in order to get what they want;
i also wonder if im being irrational
when i rationally decide
not to act irrational
and i also wonder (feeling confused and ashamed)
why is it, that wanting to be rational(that is in control)
has this boomerang effect on me
and my behavior
that all of a sudden
(eg. when my reason is blurred due to alcoooool)
becomes irrational
(violent, hysteric...)
which is the real me?
Friday, 23 November 2007
coincidence(?)
strange to get to know that 'it hurts to wait with love...' is the name of a Hundertwasser picture(this one..below)strange that it was him who was on my mind when i have first hear these lines.
coincidence?im not sure coincidences really exist....
arrows exist pointing towards something
outside
or
inside
coincidence?im not sure coincidences really exist....
arrows exist pointing towards something
outside
or
inside
etimologia-etimology
yesterday my body has been commented on
such comments usually annoy me
therefore i try to ignore them
but in some cases
i cannot use ignorance
to hide away from a possible truth
..as there is a difference between being
'vékony' (cioé fragile...or slender)
and
'sovány' (magra..or skinny)
My mind set into motion trying to understand
the effect of such etimologic difference on my person
and personal well-being
and i had to realize that im not well at all.
so next week will be about
silently sitting in the waiting halls of doctors
to understand
if i can help my body with some sort of medication...
laying in bed at night an other expression plays in my head:
'elemészt a bánat' ... (or) 'ne emészd magad'
very wise words in fact...
the first should be translated as
'sadness eats you away' (ti digerisce la tristezza)
while the second is something you may often hear when feeling down:
'dont eat yourself away' (yet the Hung. verb used here is 'to digest')
ehm.
i will go to the doctors to make Mama worry less
but im afraid
this sadness over me
is the one that makes me lose (weight)
and the fact that i know that
it had to be
doesnt help much...
i thought i was ready to lose (him)
and it scares me
that my body makes me
admit:
his absence makes me sick.
such comments usually annoy me
therefore i try to ignore them
but in some cases
i cannot use ignorance
to hide away from a possible truth
..as there is a difference between being
'vékony' (cioé fragile...or slender)
and
'sovány' (magra..or skinny)
My mind set into motion trying to understand
the effect of such etimologic difference on my person
and personal well-being
and i had to realize that im not well at all.
so next week will be about
silently sitting in the waiting halls of doctors
to understand
if i can help my body with some sort of medication...
laying in bed at night an other expression plays in my head:
'elemészt a bánat' ... (or) 'ne emészd magad'
very wise words in fact...
the first should be translated as
'sadness eats you away' (ti digerisce la tristezza)
while the second is something you may often hear when feeling down:
'dont eat yourself away' (yet the Hung. verb used here is 'to digest')
ehm.
i will go to the doctors to make Mama worry less
but im afraid
this sadness over me
is the one that makes me lose (weight)
and the fact that i know that
it had to be
doesnt help much...
i thought i was ready to lose (him)
and it scares me
that my body makes me
admit:
his absence makes me sick.
Thursday, 22 November 2007
odio
odio quando sveglio la mattina
dopo una festa e sogni confusi
e mi rendo conto che c'é qualcosa che manca
troppo
c'é un vuoto dentro di me che cresce
un vuoto che fin adesso era una cosa positiva
un dono
perché mi tranquilizzava
ma ormai non sono altro che un vuoto senza confini
...
maybe im afraid that i'll completely disappear in my void.
or that you will disappear in it
there is a hole
and it's too big
i put you inside there
and it was a nice fit
not perfect
(but maybe perfect would have been too imperfect)
i liked you inside
a sweet sensation
as if you belonged to me
(of yourse you didnt)
for i belonged to you
(or my void
since you were the one who filled it)
...
ieri notte ho dato un schiaffo enorme
ad un ragazzo che ti assomiglia
-i wonder(why) did i want to hit You maybe?
...
odio cadere nel vuoto
sento troppo piena di emozioni
sono un contenitore
(troppo piena)
e devo tenere tutto
dentro
nel vuoto.
ieri ho trovato Le cittá invisibile
(da vent'anni che nn lo pubblicano nella mia lingua
dovevo cercarlo fra i libri antichi)
ormai lo posso rileggere
riga dopo riga
senza di te
(e senza scopo)
dopo una festa e sogni confusi
e mi rendo conto che c'é qualcosa che manca
troppo
c'é un vuoto dentro di me che cresce
un vuoto che fin adesso era una cosa positiva
un dono
perché mi tranquilizzava
ma ormai non sono altro che un vuoto senza confini
...
maybe im afraid that i'll completely disappear in my void.
or that you will disappear in it
there is a hole
and it's too big
i put you inside there
and it was a nice fit
not perfect
(but maybe perfect would have been too imperfect)
i liked you inside
a sweet sensation
as if you belonged to me
(of yourse you didnt)
for i belonged to you
(or my void
since you were the one who filled it)
...
ieri notte ho dato un schiaffo enorme
ad un ragazzo che ti assomiglia
-i wonder(why) did i want to hit You maybe?
...
odio cadere nel vuoto
sento troppo piena di emozioni
sono un contenitore
(troppo piena)
e devo tenere tutto
dentro
nel vuoto.
ieri ho trovato Le cittá invisibile
(da vent'anni che nn lo pubblicano nella mia lingua
dovevo cercarlo fra i libri antichi)
ormai lo posso rileggere
riga dopo riga
senza di te
(e senza scopo)
Tuesday, 20 November 2007
murmur
And I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, "If this isn't nice, I don't know what is."
Kurt Vonnegut
the sun shone this morning and i've realized im happy.
without any further reason
the same feeling as last night
when walking home
passing the synagouge
leaving O.behind with her problems
(and my hugs
-she is not easy to hug
neither too pleasant...
i wonder why)
and remembering
a night
when
from the same point
in space (and almost in time too)
i've ended up my journey
in a bed
laying my body neatly next to
(or onto)yours.
Az én kicsim vagy, mindig.:)
Monday, 19 November 2007
It hurts to wait with love if love is somewhere else.
it's as if life in me had speeded up
while life around me slowed down to a pace unbearably slow for me.
i have realized that while i have learnt to wait for love
(a useful but rather painful thing)
i remained the same unpaitent person...
unpaitent not towards others,
towards me.
'perfectionist'-some people say
(wanting to scold my mother, for someone is to be blamed for the faults of my character)
ehm. instead of perfectionist i'd rather use the term
'overachiever'...and obviously 'testarda'(stubborn)
i think
standing at the top of a scale in the barthroom
ripping off wallpaper (not caring about my fear of height and my chances of falling)
'im not weak!'-i think
moving bags of powdered concrete of 25kgs each
'im not weak!' -i repeat
mixing the powder with water
and (to the surprise of all) doing the 'job of men'
the feeling of having to prove (to myself) my own strength
has been the main issue of the weekend
but when a girlfriend of mine calls saturday night in tears
when i decide not to go over
and wake up and call her
and she doesnt answer
i realize i am weak....
a terror holds me
and i almost scream:
SHE CANT BE DEAD, SHE CANT HAVE ...
but i keep it in,
swallow
my face looks pallid and my family notices
but her phonecall arrives half an hour later
and i calm down
my mind travels in time and remembers last winter
and all of a sudden
instead of going through the bad parts
it scans for peace...
and i remember how warm did i feel
looking into the eyes of an angel.
'it hurts to wait with love if love is somewhere else'
- read this morning
i have always thought that even if love is somewhere else(too) it is pirmarily
in me:
I AM LOVE.
am i love?is love still in me?or did the waiting finish it all?
why did i wait? did i want to punish myself?
anyone can commit a fault sometimes.
I wasnt faithful....i hurt.
i wasnt there...she died.
and my stomach feel upside-down and i feel dizzy
se nn era colpa mia perché nn son capace di scuasarmi???
perché penso che é giusto che nn son amata?
perché mi torturo con pensieri di genere?
while life around me slowed down to a pace unbearably slow for me.
i have realized that while i have learnt to wait for love
(a useful but rather painful thing)
i remained the same unpaitent person...
unpaitent not towards others,
towards me.
'perfectionist'-some people say
(wanting to scold my mother, for someone is to be blamed for the faults of my character)
ehm. instead of perfectionist i'd rather use the term
'overachiever'...and obviously 'testarda'(stubborn)
i think
standing at the top of a scale in the barthroom
ripping off wallpaper (not caring about my fear of height and my chances of falling)
'im not weak!'-i think
moving bags of powdered concrete of 25kgs each
'im not weak!' -i repeat
mixing the powder with water
and (to the surprise of all) doing the 'job of men'
the feeling of having to prove (to myself) my own strength
has been the main issue of the weekend
but when a girlfriend of mine calls saturday night in tears
when i decide not to go over
and wake up and call her
and she doesnt answer
i realize i am weak....
a terror holds me
and i almost scream:
SHE CANT BE DEAD, SHE CANT HAVE ...
but i keep it in,
swallow
my face looks pallid and my family notices
but her phonecall arrives half an hour later
and i calm down
my mind travels in time and remembers last winter
and all of a sudden
instead of going through the bad parts
it scans for peace...
and i remember how warm did i feel
looking into the eyes of an angel.
'it hurts to wait with love if love is somewhere else'
- read this morning
i have always thought that even if love is somewhere else(too) it is pirmarily
in me:
I AM LOVE.
am i love?is love still in me?or did the waiting finish it all?
why did i wait? did i want to punish myself?
anyone can commit a fault sometimes.
I wasnt faithful....i hurt.
i wasnt there...she died.
and my stomach feel upside-down and i feel dizzy
se nn era colpa mia perché nn son capace di scuasarmi???
perché penso che é giusto che nn son amata?
perché mi torturo con pensieri di genere?
Saturday, 17 November 2007
elmélkedés a ki-emel-kedésről
Ki emel ki?
mikor emel ki?
honnan emel ki?
minek és kinek?
írok
...
nem a kiemelés
vagy emelkedés
csupán csak az emlékedés érdekében
de vajon, hogy elmés-e elmém
vagy te, aki olvasol,
inkább elmész,
látogatsz más oldalakra
szó nélkül hagyva mindazt
mit megírni, rajzolni, formázni talán nem
(tudok)
de mégis
(szeretnék)
...
nem vagy itt
és így talán én sem vagyok
a volte mi ameresti
e continuo a non capire perché altre volte
(no)
it is as much a puzzle as the contruction of this note
inspired by some Hungarian contemporary poems
from an outstanding youngster
who stands OUT there
(where? why? what for?)
with emotions
(withheld but published)
and i wonder if i am amybe too extrovert
(or perverted)
for the art of poetry
but how does that lead to you?
dunno.
maybe...
all roads lead to Rome.
even the roads built of my axons and synopsys and neurons and and and...
mikor emel ki?
honnan emel ki?
minek és kinek?
írok
...
nem a kiemelés
vagy emelkedés
csupán csak az emlékedés érdekében
de vajon, hogy elmés-e elmém
vagy te, aki olvasol,
inkább elmész,
látogatsz más oldalakra
szó nélkül hagyva mindazt
mit megírni, rajzolni, formázni talán nem
(tudok)
de mégis
(szeretnék)
...
nem vagy itt
és így talán én sem vagyok
a volte mi ameresti
e continuo a non capire perché altre volte
(no)
it is as much a puzzle as the contruction of this note
inspired by some Hungarian contemporary poems
from an outstanding youngster
who stands OUT there
(where? why? what for?)
with emotions
(withheld but published)
and i wonder if i am amybe too extrovert
(or perverted)
for the art of poetry
but how does that lead to you?
dunno.
maybe...
all roads lead to Rome.
even the roads built of my axons and synopsys and neurons and and and...
Thursday, 15 November 2007
washed-white-clean
just like on some toher days
almost every day
(though not an everyday thing to everyone)
i have spent my day in a whirlwind of thougths
lines of poetry stuck
(never on paper)
written in my head
got stuck
(without
this love)where will i be
(stronger than i've ever been)
gotta be
positive
autosuggesting strength
and me reassuring myslef that all is okay
decisions made
(without this love)where...
but especially how?
how and especially why did i build such a castle of trust?
(we'll gonna have to be)
apart
distance
a part of me sure of herself
sure she would have survived all ...even without
(you i dont know how to be)
but an other part
wonders
if
IF is the most unnecessary and stupid item of any language's vocab.
sometimes i wonder whether we would be miuch better off if IF didnt exist
then we could just see and value what IS
surely that still couldnt be called REALITY
but
maybe
we would be more balanced if we didnt go though a million mazes of IF...
i feel like a rat enlocked in my own laboratory...
almost every day
(though not an everyday thing to everyone)
i have spent my day in a whirlwind of thougths
lines of poetry stuck
(never on paper)
written in my head
got stuck
(without
this love)where will i be
(stronger than i've ever been)
gotta be
positive
autosuggesting strength
and me reassuring myslef that all is okay
decisions made
(without this love)where...
but especially how?
how and especially why did i build such a castle of trust?
(we'll gonna have to be)
apart
distance
a part of me sure of herself
sure she would have survived all ...even without
(you i dont know how to be)
but an other part
wonders
if
IF is the most unnecessary and stupid item of any language's vocab.
sometimes i wonder whether we would be miuch better off if IF didnt exist
then we could just see and value what IS
surely that still couldnt be called REALITY
but
maybe
we would be more balanced if we didnt go though a million mazes of IF...
i feel like a rat enlocked in my own laboratory...
thinking about
YOU...uuuuu
and about how lucky i am to have unconditional love wrapping me up on cold winter nights
my sister waking me with tremblin limbs asking about bad spirits and for help
she climbs under the bedclothes with me and i hold her and half-dreaming tell her a tale about Marco the cunning thief i have read the other day and hope it will fill her mind with the sea and warmth and maybe a smile so that she can slowly drift into the miraulous world of dreams
i wake with my eyes hurting, the bed empty beside me
write to my brother in france to let him now that i care
kiss my rose and look out the window to watch the snow fall
and i start to think... and hum:
yesterday i saw the sun shinin',
and the leaves were fallin' down softly,
my cold hands needed a warm, warm touch,
and i was thinkin' about you.
here i am lookin' for signs of leaving,
you hold my hand, but do you really need me?
i guess it's time for me to let you go,
and i've been thinkin' about you,i've been thinkin' about you.
when you sail across the ocean waters,
and you reach the other side safely,
could you smile a little smile for me?
'cause i'll be thinkin' about you,
i'll be thinkin' about you,
i'll be thinkin' about you,
i'll be thinkin' about you.
(but at least i know'what am i to you' http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VnolNQUxzdo&feature=related)
and the most beautiful of all is that i dont think this is sadness
no,
i think it is just a soft kind of melancholy
accompanied with that small (insecure)smile
that lately has become my most special facial expression:)
and about how lucky i am to have unconditional love wrapping me up on cold winter nights
my sister waking me with tremblin limbs asking about bad spirits and for help
she climbs under the bedclothes with me and i hold her and half-dreaming tell her a tale about Marco the cunning thief i have read the other day and hope it will fill her mind with the sea and warmth and maybe a smile so that she can slowly drift into the miraulous world of dreams
i wake with my eyes hurting, the bed empty beside me
write to my brother in france to let him now that i care
kiss my rose and look out the window to watch the snow fall
and i start to think... and hum:
yesterday i saw the sun shinin',
and the leaves were fallin' down softly,
my cold hands needed a warm, warm touch,
and i was thinkin' about you.
here i am lookin' for signs of leaving,
you hold my hand, but do you really need me?
i guess it's time for me to let you go,
and i've been thinkin' about you,i've been thinkin' about you.
when you sail across the ocean waters,
and you reach the other side safely,
could you smile a little smile for me?
'cause i'll be thinkin' about you,
i'll be thinkin' about you,
i'll be thinkin' about you,
i'll be thinkin' about you.
(but at least i know'what am i to you' http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VnolNQUxzdo&feature=related)
and the most beautiful of all is that i dont think this is sadness
no,
i think it is just a soft kind of melancholy
accompanied with that small (insecure)smile
that lately has become my most special facial expression:)
Wednesday, 14 November 2007
then we both...
Then we both went home
On separate trains
When the heart had gone
out of it
But I'm gonna cry,
I wanna laugh again
I'm not gonna try when it isn't happening
I'll just let it go
Can you feel me now, powerful
Do you hear me now
Every things possible
Wonderful, feel like I'm beautiful
When we both look back
We don't see the same
I don't need to deal with that
hurt again
Cause I'm ready to fly
I've gotta spread my wings
I don't wanna die
without living
Just let me go
Can you feel me now, powerful
Do you hear me now
Every things possible
Wonderful, I feel like I'm beautiful
You told me that I could never love
without you
I didn't argue with the fact
I guess I was happy with that
At the time
Can you feel me now, powerful
Do you hear me now, any things possible
Wonderful, feel like I'm beautiful
Natural, lyrical, no longer cynical
Then we both went home...
On separate trains
When the heart had gone
out of it
But I'm gonna cry,
I wanna laugh again
I'm not gonna try when it isn't happening
I'll just let it go
Can you feel me now, powerful
Do you hear me now
Every things possible
Wonderful, feel like I'm beautiful
When we both look back
We don't see the same
I don't need to deal with that
hurt again
Cause I'm ready to fly
I've gotta spread my wings
I don't wanna die
without living
Just let me go
Can you feel me now, powerful
Do you hear me now
Every things possible
Wonderful, I feel like I'm beautiful
You told me that I could never love
without you
I didn't argue with the fact
I guess I was happy with that
At the time
Can you feel me now, powerful
Do you hear me now, any things possible
Wonderful, feel like I'm beautiful
Natural, lyrical, no longer cynical
Then we both went home...
rites
in the cloud of insecure smiles
words stuck in your mouth
a soffocating silence
you realize that the pain of farewell
is one that you know too well
it has become almost a rite
to lose men at stations and airports
to say goodbye kissing
to stand and wait until their faces blur into the crowd
to sleep until a short note is sent
reporting on their safe journey
you wonder why is it that relations break sometime
between november and christmas
followed by a new-years eve
at the peak of which you decide to have a miraculous year
then the act of getting to know and opening
becoming lost in emotions
and losing
losing
and silence as a part of you
you dont know where you stand of where to go
you feel like a three-year-old child lost in forest
having to face something she will never be ready for:
alone-ness.
words stuck in your mouth
a soffocating silence
you realize that the pain of farewell
is one that you know too well
it has become almost a rite
to lose men at stations and airports
to say goodbye kissing
to stand and wait until their faces blur into the crowd
to sleep until a short note is sent
reporting on their safe journey
you wonder why is it that relations break sometime
between november and christmas
followed by a new-years eve
at the peak of which you decide to have a miraculous year
then the act of getting to know and opening
becoming lost in emotions
and losing
losing
and silence as a part of you
you dont know where you stand of where to go
you feel like a three-year-old child lost in forest
having to face something she will never be ready for:
alone-ness.
Thursday, 1 November 2007
AllHallows
eyes burning
four hours of sleep
hands holding yours in the theatre
hands holding your
holding you
awaking
almost dark
black clothes
red udnerwear
something has to be alive
(anche se nascosto, pensi)
or bleeding
you drink your coffee with you white-washed-face
'why this black'? you get asked 'we are no grieving'
'YOU are not' you answer silently
your mouth not moving you pull on your stockings
balck
and stand silently at the door
you stand silently by the grave of your greatgrandparents - chilly
you stand by the grave of your grandmother - sunny
and
suddenly
someone puts her arms around you
and breakes your silence with conforting words
candles, flowers and letting you know that in case one doesnt manage to visit
the proper grave of a loved one (due to distance..like in this case) there is a place
in each cemetry where you ...well...let's say: REMEMBER
i've never though it'd be like this.hands trembling.
your feet turnin your body round and round
your eyes scanning a place where to put a little white rose
(fragile as she was)
you light the candle but the wind blows it out
you light it again and shhh the flame is gone
(in an instant..like she was).
four hours of sleep
hands holding yours in the theatre
hands holding your
holding you
awaking
almost dark
black clothes
red udnerwear
something has to be alive
(anche se nascosto, pensi)
or bleeding
you drink your coffee with you white-washed-face
'why this black'? you get asked 'we are no grieving'
'YOU are not' you answer silently
your mouth not moving you pull on your stockings
balck
and stand silently at the door
you stand silently by the grave of your greatgrandparents - chilly
you stand by the grave of your grandmother - sunny
and
suddenly
someone puts her arms around you
and breakes your silence with conforting words
candles, flowers and letting you know that in case one doesnt manage to visit
the proper grave of a loved one (due to distance..like in this case) there is a place
in each cemetry where you ...well...let's say: REMEMBER
i've never though it'd be like this.hands trembling.
your feet turnin your body round and round
your eyes scanning a place where to put a little white rose
(fragile as she was)
you light the candle but the wind blows it out
you light it again and shhh the flame is gone
(in an instant..like she was).
Tuesday, 30 October 2007
righe fra i banchi
mhhh...
e quanto sei felice quando abbracci un sconosciuto che ami
un sconosciuto che dopo ore e ore di coccole e amore ancora nn riconosci come tutto tuo..
ma quasi quasi
e quanto é bello leggere righe d'amore scritte fra favole e racconti...
righe che ti raccontano di un amore che pensavi fosse inesistente, invece forse esiste:)
e quanto sei felice quando abbracci un sconosciuto che ami
un sconosciuto che dopo ore e ore di coccole e amore ancora nn riconosci come tutto tuo..
ma quasi quasi
e quanto é bello leggere righe d'amore scritte fra favole e racconti...
righe che ti raccontano di un amore che pensavi fosse inesistente, invece forse esiste:)
Sunday, 28 October 2007
call me a HUman
Feelings.
i have many of them
so many that sometimes my heart seems to be too little to contain them all
it pours itself out filling my body
my Self feed herself on them
happy or sad
sometimes without a reason
or an explanation
i get carried away
as a ship with open sails
tossed around at the sea...
Prof. Géza Kállay's discussion of the play and the film gave tracks for me...track along which i may choose to run...
but how do i talk about flesh and blood
to whom do i talk about humanity
and humiliation?
Cut out a piece of a flesh from a men's chest yet let there be no drop of blood.
Cut out, kill, destroy and eat may all symbolize what we commonly call 'hatred'
but isnt wanting to take, possess, or eat the heart of the other a vital part of what we may commonly call 'love'?
Where is the line(if exists at all) that separates hatred from love?
Can i fight with that whom i hate? yes. can i fight with that whom i love? yes. can i fight with that who is indifferent to me? no.
hatred is not the opposite of love. indifference is. when you hate someone you atully love him/her..or at least want to...
exactly the way Shylock and Antonio feel for each other. their hatred almost a love. their differences disappearing in the moment they humiliate each other.
you may only be humiliated by that whom you love.
i have many of them
so many that sometimes my heart seems to be too little to contain them all
it pours itself out filling my body
my Self feed herself on them
happy or sad
sometimes without a reason
or an explanation
i get carried away
as a ship with open sails
tossed around at the sea...
In sooth, I know not why I am so sad:
It wearies me; you say it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am to learn;
And such a want-wit sadness makes of me,
That I have much ado to know myself.
/W. Shakespeare: The Mercnat of Venice, Sceen I., Antonio/http://onlinebooks.library.upenn.edu/webbin/book/search?author=Shakespeare%2C+William
Having seen the film-version (with Al Pacino, Jeremy Irons, Jospeh Finnes and Lynn Collins) my mind got filled with those emotions(we call thoughts) yet in a funny way i find it difficult to express them.
Prof. Géza Kállay's discussion of the play and the film gave tracks for me...track along which i may choose to run...
but how do i talk about flesh and blood
to whom do i talk about humanity
and humiliation?
Cut out a piece of a flesh from a men's chest yet let there be no drop of blood.
Cut out, kill, destroy and eat may all symbolize what we commonly call 'hatred'
but isnt wanting to take, possess, or eat the heart of the other a vital part of what we may commonly call 'love'?
Where is the line(if exists at all) that separates hatred from love?
Can i fight with that whom i hate? yes. can i fight with that whom i love? yes. can i fight with that who is indifferent to me? no.
hatred is not the opposite of love. indifference is. when you hate someone you atully love him/her..or at least want to...
exactly the way Shylock and Antonio feel for each other. their hatred almost a love. their differences disappearing in the moment they humiliate each other.
you may only be humiliated by that whom you love.
commenting on the lack of comments
There. another mystery undone.
the lack of comments was (probably) not due to lack of interest(or thoughts)but because i did not put a tick in the right box and so most people(not with gmail)could not possibly comment even if (possibly maybe) they have found a line worthy of that.
Yet, i have got this in the morning, an offer, rather than a comment:
"I cordially invite you to come take a ride in my thoughts
Switch memory lanes while we dreamin, wanderin
And in return I'll strip my inhibitions
And go skinny dipping in your stream of consciousness"
Then i find out that it is from a song from a band called:CunninLynguists
and even though i do not know them
i like those lines
and unwrapping myself
my flesh(and blood as they do belong together)
sinks into a strange silence between the lines
while my mind keeps rattling and rattlin n rattlin
the lack of comments was (probably) not due to lack of interest(or thoughts)but because i did not put a tick in the right box and so most people(not with gmail)could not possibly comment even if (possibly maybe) they have found a line worthy of that.
Yet, i have got this in the morning, an offer, rather than a comment:
"I cordially invite you to come take a ride in my thoughts
Switch memory lanes while we dreamin, wanderin
And in return I'll strip my inhibitions
And go skinny dipping in your stream of consciousness"
Then i find out that it is from a song from a band called:CunninLynguists
and even though i do not know them
i like those lines
and unwrapping myself
my flesh(and blood as they do belong together)
sinks into a strange silence between the lines
while my mind keeps rattling and rattlin n rattlin
ex-planations
Yesterday i've spent the day screaming. inside. so unnerved i almost didnt do anything wasting my energies in trying to find out calm down wanting to scream at the top of my lungs and cry and ask for help.
silence is unbearable sometimes.
this autumn is difficult.
the reason dear reader is more than simple: the cold makes my heart remember.
and so i find myself running down to Nyugati to watch a Danish film (Prag - from ole C. Madsen) and as I get off the tram and walk up to Toldi(name of the movie) it suddenly dawn on me:
i want to go and have a tea with Eszter.
i slow my steps, close my eyes, not knowing whether to cry or laugh and i remeber:
buying a yellow rose to make her day
sipping warm tea learning about her past and present
eating a surprise-dinner after a long day
sitting on a bed talking about my broken hopes
leaving a party to scold and wipe her tear when her hopes are gone
strolling in shoppingcentre not knowing how to confort her
talking on the phone telling her i love her
throwing the phone on my bed with anger and pain when hearing the indifference in her voice
fear washing over my body when the phone goes dead
standing in front of a door
praying for her not to be in there
and i want to go back in time. ..and drink tea with her.
and i cant.
i like the film, and i like drinking wine and chatting with friends afterwards.
and falling to bed right after hugging my sister.
but i dream dreams of the past. of a man who has failed me.
and i wake feelin suffocated.
and i yearn to be loved.
and i hope to learn to forgive:
her - who did not understand my love
him - who did not know what love was
but most of all: to myself.
silence is unbearable sometimes.
this autumn is difficult.
the reason dear reader is more than simple: the cold makes my heart remember.
and so i find myself running down to Nyugati to watch a Danish film (Prag - from ole C. Madsen) and as I get off the tram and walk up to Toldi(name of the movie) it suddenly dawn on me:
i want to go and have a tea with Eszter.
i slow my steps, close my eyes, not knowing whether to cry or laugh and i remeber:
buying a yellow rose to make her day
sipping warm tea learning about her past and present
eating a surprise-dinner after a long day
sitting on a bed talking about my broken hopes
leaving a party to scold and wipe her tear when her hopes are gone
strolling in shoppingcentre not knowing how to confort her
talking on the phone telling her i love her
throwing the phone on my bed with anger and pain when hearing the indifference in her voice
fear washing over my body when the phone goes dead
standing in front of a door
praying for her not to be in there
and i want to go back in time. ..and drink tea with her.
and i cant.
i like the film, and i like drinking wine and chatting with friends afterwards.
and falling to bed right after hugging my sister.
but i dream dreams of the past. of a man who has failed me.
and i wake feelin suffocated.
and i yearn to be loved.
and i hope to learn to forgive:
her - who did not understand my love
him - who did not know what love was
but most of all: to myself.
Saturday, 20 October 2007
Izzy, pain, thoughts
im not a particular tv-fan...let alone tv-series (most of which i find so annoying and 'brain-damaging' that when i see fam.members sitting in front of the telly with a dum expression on theri faces i feel a strong and sudden urge to switch it off,and read to them if they feel to tired to do so alone.)
but Grey's Anatomy is one of the few i have found myself waiting week after week.
at first it was only the good-to-watch film when huge piles of clotes-to-be-ironed were waiting for me in the living room...
then, one day i have found myself describing the names of the key characters to my mother telling her to choose this film if she really feels like watching something
no character was more important than the other, no emotion portrayed in the film stronger than the other. all of it was so human, so understandable.
moralizing, yes. but not more or worse than the fable about the ant and the cricket...
but before the 'summer break'(i have learnt most series have them..so that tv-companies dont lose regular viewers away on the holiday who'd not be happy not being able to follow the story once having missed some episodes)...so before the break Izzy lost her man...i remember having had to sit down (ironing left off) in order to feel strong enough to watch.
then the summer has brought me a lot of changes .. most of which took place inside of me.
then september has brought new decisions: staying(voting for family and stability) and work(mainly teaching and kids and growth and only partly coping with problems and pain of others)
september has also brought with memories of last year and an incredibly strong wish to undo.
undo in the sense of unlocking.
if i could ask for a miracle i'd not want her alive again(i do not wish to undo death) but i'd wish to triple the length of the days spent with her.
then i had to realize that i cannot undo her absence.
and i cannot undo the pain i feel every time i notice her absence.
pain is with a reason. always.
then in october Grey's Anatomy continued...and I sat bewildered.
unable to breath, or cry, unable to move or yell,
unable to whisper or shout,
unable to hurt or to defend.
I sat watching a girl laying unmoving on a carpet
at the command of a director
and someone else who knew HOWto portray the way
I have FELT month before.
Not hysteric.
not alive.
not dead.
just stuck.
numb.
in purgatory.
Izzy spoke and her words sank deep into me.
as she lay on the floor talking about a world too suddenly changed
not knowing how did she arrive where she was
on the floor
in a balldress
at a night when she was supposed to be celebrating
not knowing where all the pain was from
or who she was
or waht pushed her on the floor
hte only stable thing
unmoving.
Then Izzy standing in front of the hospital for hours and hours. unmoving. still.
(of course you'd not stand there for hours. but you feel like. and everything is slow motion. and repetitive like her muffins.)
and hurting like hell,all over.
and god knows why but i felt relief.
relief watching that pain pictured.
nurturing the feeling of:
having survived.
and feeling happy.
knowing of course that happiness is a relative thing.
it is rather a certain kind of peace.
and safety.
a point in life in which i can be made happy and i can make other happy
but i still think many sad thoughts
(in silence, and alone, and writing, like now
not publicly
but semi-publicly
fearing responses
but hoping for them)
and sometimes..sometimes i really feel very full, and very alive
and i feel emotions(good ones) washing over me
cleansing my body from all
that is left of the pain
in moments like that i close my eyes and think very hard of one person
and of the love i have to give to him.
but Grey's Anatomy is one of the few i have found myself waiting week after week.
at first it was only the good-to-watch film when huge piles of clotes-to-be-ironed were waiting for me in the living room...
then, one day i have found myself describing the names of the key characters to my mother telling her to choose this film if she really feels like watching something
no character was more important than the other, no emotion portrayed in the film stronger than the other. all of it was so human, so understandable.
moralizing, yes. but not more or worse than the fable about the ant and the cricket...
but before the 'summer break'(i have learnt most series have them..so that tv-companies dont lose regular viewers away on the holiday who'd not be happy not being able to follow the story once having missed some episodes)...so before the break Izzy lost her man...i remember having had to sit down (ironing left off) in order to feel strong enough to watch.
then the summer has brought me a lot of changes .. most of which took place inside of me.
then september has brought new decisions: staying(voting for family and stability) and work(mainly teaching and kids and growth and only partly coping with problems and pain of others)
september has also brought with memories of last year and an incredibly strong wish to undo.
undo in the sense of unlocking.
if i could ask for a miracle i'd not want her alive again(i do not wish to undo death) but i'd wish to triple the length of the days spent with her.
then i had to realize that i cannot undo her absence.
and i cannot undo the pain i feel every time i notice her absence.
pain is with a reason. always.
then in october Grey's Anatomy continued...and I sat bewildered.
unable to breath, or cry, unable to move or yell,
unable to whisper or shout,
unable to hurt or to defend.
I sat watching a girl laying unmoving on a carpet
at the command of a director
and someone else who knew HOWto portray the way
I have FELT month before.
Not hysteric.
not alive.
not dead.
just stuck.
numb.
in purgatory.
Izzy spoke and her words sank deep into me.
as she lay on the floor talking about a world too suddenly changed
not knowing how did she arrive where she was
on the floor
in a balldress
at a night when she was supposed to be celebrating
not knowing where all the pain was from
or who she was
or waht pushed her on the floor
hte only stable thing
unmoving.
Then Izzy standing in front of the hospital for hours and hours. unmoving. still.
(of course you'd not stand there for hours. but you feel like. and everything is slow motion. and repetitive like her muffins.)
and hurting like hell,all over.
and god knows why but i felt relief.
relief watching that pain pictured.
nurturing the feeling of:
having survived.
and feeling happy.
knowing of course that happiness is a relative thing.
it is rather a certain kind of peace.
and safety.
a point in life in which i can be made happy and i can make other happy
but i still think many sad thoughts
(in silence, and alone, and writing, like now
not publicly
but semi-publicly
fearing responses
but hoping for them)
and sometimes..sometimes i really feel very full, and very alive
and i feel emotions(good ones) washing over me
cleansing my body from all
that is left of the pain
in moments like that i close my eyes and think very hard of one person
and of the love i have to give to him.
Sunday, 14 October 2007
eyes closed
with eyes closed you sit again in front of the screen of your computer that vibrates.
it is time to clear certain things.
like your room.
you go to the door, tear photos off..gently..not to cause any harm
slowly rub blu-tech off
the photos beuild up a pile and the plu-tech rolls into a ball in your hand
you think about all the faces you look at and all those you dont
you sigh when noticing
that uncounsciously though,
but there is an order of the things posted up there.
some mean a lot:
these you tear off slower, hold them longer gazing at the faces and the past smiles
other you tear off as if in haste, bury them turning them upside down
again other seem unknown,
having been there but not having been looked at you wonder if they are
or ever were really a part of your life
you go to another piece of your wall
face the sticky-surfaced empty post-wall
and put on three photos connected in a line:
'light-peace-hope' that1s the title...
but since hidden behind only you know it and only you know why do you put a bookmark with a smiling cat underneath.
reaching for a colorful postcard of holland your fingers begin to hesitate
you put it in the middle, but tear it off, post it somewhere else and remain unsatisfied.
you decide to change tactics and follow insticts.
you begin to reach for photos and post them on the wall
one after the other one
very fast,
not thinking but feeling
and all of a sudden the floer-fields of holland find there place
exactly above the place where you rest your head each night.
having gone so far you face the clean door and post a heart on it.
right above the doorknob.
other than that,
you leave it empty.
just in case...
you need to fill it with soemthing:
new.
it is time to clear certain things.
like your room.
you go to the door, tear photos off..gently..not to cause any harm
slowly rub blu-tech off
the photos beuild up a pile and the plu-tech rolls into a ball in your hand
you think about all the faces you look at and all those you dont
you sigh when noticing
that uncounsciously though,
but there is an order of the things posted up there.
some mean a lot:
these you tear off slower, hold them longer gazing at the faces and the past smiles
other you tear off as if in haste, bury them turning them upside down
again other seem unknown,
having been there but not having been looked at you wonder if they are
or ever were really a part of your life
you go to another piece of your wall
face the sticky-surfaced empty post-wall
and put on three photos connected in a line:
'light-peace-hope' that1s the title...
but since hidden behind only you know it and only you know why do you put a bookmark with a smiling cat underneath.
reaching for a colorful postcard of holland your fingers begin to hesitate
you put it in the middle, but tear it off, post it somewhere else and remain unsatisfied.
you decide to change tactics and follow insticts.
you begin to reach for photos and post them on the wall
one after the other one
very fast,
not thinking but feeling
and all of a sudden the floer-fields of holland find there place
exactly above the place where you rest your head each night.
having gone so far you face the clean door and post a heart on it.
right above the doorknob.
other than that,
you leave it empty.
just in case...
you need to fill it with soemthing:
new.
Saturday, 6 October 2007
body and
body.
my body feels restless.
its un-touched-ness creating a
what is it?
a storm nearing?
unslept nights?
dreams about...?
body. my body wants to reach across the table kiss, eat and satisfy itself.
i could then dress up again and walk away.
body.
my body is needing.
and i know what she wants
yet i cannot give it to her.
if i let her command:
where will i be brought?
will i not freeze in the middle of it,
call it off and then feel ridiculous?
or will i enjoy and then what?
my body is hungry dictator.
she commands me to do things against my disciplines.
my heart understands her. she knows what hunger is.
yet she knows she is not to be fed where the body is.
it is a great dilemma.
whereas it shouldnt be.
beneath it all is this:
i think my heart is a kamikaze. she is moody and so irrational.
at least my body i can understand.
but i cannt satisfy her.
i have made a promise to my heart.
i wish i was strong enough to keep it.
my body feels restless.
its un-touched-ness creating a
what is it?
a storm nearing?
unslept nights?
dreams about...?
body. my body wants to reach across the table kiss, eat and satisfy itself.
i could then dress up again and walk away.
body.
my body is needing.
and i know what she wants
yet i cannot give it to her.
if i let her command:
where will i be brought?
will i not freeze in the middle of it,
call it off and then feel ridiculous?
or will i enjoy and then what?
my body is hungry dictator.
she commands me to do things against my disciplines.
my heart understands her. she knows what hunger is.
yet she knows she is not to be fed where the body is.
it is a great dilemma.
whereas it shouldnt be.
beneath it all is this:
i think my heart is a kamikaze. she is moody and so irrational.
at least my body i can understand.
but i cannt satisfy her.
i have made a promise to my heart.
i wish i was strong enough to keep it.
Thursday, 4 October 2007
tug-of-war
stepping in to the 26th year of your life you wake with an immense headache, your phone buzzing, work waiting to be done
you fall back in bed, hide under the blanket and dream dreams about the men you have loved
having passed the magical 25 you realzie that nothing changes
and that finiding a mate is something that doesnt happen easily and never when or the way you want it
with eyes closed, vienes throbbing with pain (waiting for the caffé and some painkillers) you once again start reflecting
and you conclude that
distance and little possibility to spend time together doesnt affect the strength of love
at least as regards friendships
and distance and limitied possibilities dont affect the strength of love
as regads LOVE
but they do effect other things that although dont effect Love itself,
effect what people bring out of situations they are in.
way past midnight you find yourself in the midst of some man screaming you are single
not even two minutes later you contradict yourself
again a bit later
(since you want to be single)
you find yourself expalining to a german why is it that you would not and could not be the girlfrind of someone living in 1000kms of distance
he makes a comment on how fascinating you are
and for a flash of time your face becomes clouded by terror
you take a second look at him and realize you are talking to him (out of many) due to his germaic looks, a resablance
out of anger
somewhat later you find yoursefl face to fice with the borther of your loved one
and instead of screaming single
you fight
and forgive
you walk home in the cold
thinking about the
tug-of-war in your heart created by distance
and realize that you are somewhat torn between your reson and heart
making a decision would probably help.
or admitting that you have already made a decision a long time ago.
with eyes closed (caffé finito) you count the days left until his arrival.
your heart feels alive, and that's good.
but your reason tells you he has made a different decision.
you are 26. torn. and on the emotional roller-coaster playing tug-of-war with yourself.
Wednesday, 26 September 2007
Me and my babies
ehm.
i know....im an emotional roller-coaster and crazy-little-complicated and a drama queen...but depressed : no. actually i think missing E. is normal, so is being stirred by K. and whinging thet G. is not here to cuddle me.
anyways. yesterday i have come the mother of 8kids (all of them around 2 and a half) for 15minutes...and if all goes fine most of them will be my babies from next week..with many more to come. Luckily they all loved my red puppet(Freddy, the fox..ehm..named accidentally) and none of them cried. There was a little girl who tried to steal Freddy, but then she gave it back...and most of them were laughing like crazy when i started emitting funny sounds to attract attention. Wow, this job will be a perfect refill after all the emotional problems i will have to try and handle in the mornings. (those of others...my own things always spin out of control...but then when i want to regain control i chat with G. who totally ignores their size and depth=> therefore i get over them myself and then im back to normal....if i actually have a 'normal' self at all)
Today flatparty at G.'s little brother... high time. i have just started missing the erasmus feeling:) /plus my italian has come to a halt and i really cannot see how to push it any further./
Today is the birthday of K. ...mine is coming up in 7 days...the big 25.
well. im not married. not pregnant. i still live home.
but at least i have travelled around europe a lot and got to know a lot of pple and things.
i have learnt to enjoy things more and became braver that i thought i'd be. (like i'd go flying in a small plane and do sports that used to freak me out..even though most probably i will end up being this highly emotional cultual whirlwind and will continue to be restless...but that's fun.)
all in all. changes in me have brought with them changes in my priorities.
kids can wait.
im happy to be responsible for me.
then for me+1. and before any sort of multiplication i need to understand if the +1 likes funparks...if yes. we can both sit on the rollercoaster and while i give the soundeffects he'll try to hold me and slow down from time to time:)
i know....im an emotional roller-coaster and crazy-little-complicated and a drama queen...but depressed : no. actually i think missing E. is normal, so is being stirred by K. and whinging thet G. is not here to cuddle me.
anyways. yesterday i have come the mother of 8kids (all of them around 2 and a half) for 15minutes...and if all goes fine most of them will be my babies from next week..with many more to come. Luckily they all loved my red puppet(Freddy, the fox..ehm..named accidentally) and none of them cried. There was a little girl who tried to steal Freddy, but then she gave it back...and most of them were laughing like crazy when i started emitting funny sounds to attract attention. Wow, this job will be a perfect refill after all the emotional problems i will have to try and handle in the mornings. (those of others...my own things always spin out of control...but then when i want to regain control i chat with G. who totally ignores their size and depth=> therefore i get over them myself and then im back to normal....if i actually have a 'normal' self at all)
Today flatparty at G.'s little brother... high time. i have just started missing the erasmus feeling:) /plus my italian has come to a halt and i really cannot see how to push it any further./
Today is the birthday of K. ...mine is coming up in 7 days...the big 25.
well. im not married. not pregnant. i still live home.
but at least i have travelled around europe a lot and got to know a lot of pple and things.
i have learnt to enjoy things more and became braver that i thought i'd be. (like i'd go flying in a small plane and do sports that used to freak me out..even though most probably i will end up being this highly emotional cultual whirlwind and will continue to be restless...but that's fun.)
all in all. changes in me have brought with them changes in my priorities.
kids can wait.
im happy to be responsible for me.
then for me+1. and before any sort of multiplication i need to understand if the +1 likes funparks...if yes. we can both sit on the rollercoaster and while i give the soundeffects he'll try to hold me and slow down from time to time:)
Saturday, 22 September 2007
instropection
Music: http://www.fabchannel.com/ => as writing lines legible below im listening to a concert of the FRAMES (right now to "rise")..music chosen by pure accident...yet it is nice.
smooth. clam day. my eyes feel tired and my soul wants to rest. i have my future ahead of me like an open road.enless , wide, monotonous. a road i have to take alone. something has come to a halt. i do not strive any more to connect. i cannot seem to make it.
instead i turn inwards and stare into my endless void.
i remember Eszter and i wonder what did she mean to me a year ago. i remember many little details. the way she turnes around to take the first step towards me. her hesitation whther to tell me that she is getting divorced and lives with a man twice her age. i remember her tiny finger(her hands exactly the size of mine)slightly trembling as she was puffed little clouds of smoke in the cool october air. i remember her miniskerts and high-heel boots, her girlish elegance hiding her unsecurity. i wonder if i could have done womething in a different way. i wonder about accidents. i wonder what would i be like if she had not died.
sometimes it feels as if she did not exist at all. as if she was only a beautiful(round)character of my daydreams. i wonder if she was me or herself. i feel lost that noone who know me knew her. as if she was only a secret friend. sometimes i even if she had not come to touch my soul.
i wonder why is it that her name is the same as my sister's. i wonder what did the few who knew us mean by saying: you are so much alike.it is almost you were the same person.
today is Jom Kippur and i try to forgive all the pain i have had to suffer due to careless human behavior. today is sunny and im listening to this song: 'falling slowly'. and i wonder why is it that i have many friends all of whom love and accept me but all of whom think my emotions are too big and too complicated. i wonder if i can hide black for long. i wonder if i can find one to whom i can tell ugly things. i though maybe i would buy a big canvas and paint death so that i could look her in the face...i wonder if it would help.
yes. i am too introspective maybe. but at times like this(home, alone, surrounded by waves of music, patches of sunshine tickling my feet) i cannot but look inside...in order to be able to turn towards others(and connect) when out there...
Friday, 21 September 2007
Sueing Gawd
Quote:
Chambers lawsuit, which was filed on Friday in Douglas County Court, seeks a permanent injunction ordering God to cease certain harmful activities and the making of terroristic threats.
The lawsuit admits God goes by all sorts of alias, names, titles and designations and it also recognizes the fact that the defendant is omnipresent.
The lawsuit accuses God "of making and continuing to make terroristic threats of grave harm to innumerable persons, including constituents of Plaintiff who Plaintiff has the duty to represent." It says God has caused "fearsome floods, egregious earthquakes, horrendous hurricanes, terrifying tornadoes, pestilential plagues, ferocious famines, devastating droughts, genocidal wars, birth defects and the like."
The suit also says God has caused "calamitous catastrophes resulting in the wide-spread death, destruction and terrorization of millions upon millions of the Earth’s inhabitants including innocent babes, infants, children, the aged and infirm without mercy or distinction."
http://www.ketv.com/news/14133442/detail.html
Now what? Listening to news early morning -caffé pouring into my body and activating it- i remember under the shower?: but acording to Nietzche God is dead...so what?
can you sue a dead man? or i mean.. a dead god? do you have to blame him for irresponsible human behaviour? Oh my....how absurd is this! i mean DO WE REALLY HAVE TO carry certain things so far to make CERTAIN pple understand that what they are doing is SENSELESS???
...
the whole of the weak i have been learining how to teach English to 2-8 year olds while stitches itched on my back as traces of last week's operation were slowly-but-surely healing.
wednesday i have found myself talking about existentialism and other branches of phylosophy with a 50yr old man at the waiting hall fo the hospital (before having my back cleaned after a week and learining that obviously the malls taken off didnt have cancer). again how absurd. where do one has to go and what circumstances(3hrs of waiting ..staning..on a corridor) have to force us to link and form somewhat meaningful conversations?
...
I also wonder why do people need me as a professional to tell them that they should protect their kids, create a somewhat stable and safe environment and love? are we really not able to do that wihtout additional outside-feedback any more?
...
i also wonder what the word boyfriend mean to me?
and i wonder if Eszter would sit on the metro with me sometimes if she still lived.
i wonder what other people think of ..those who do not have to think about death or philosophy every day...i wonder if i could do anything to think less, or at least to feel less...
some say i'm too introspective.
other's say my brain works in strange ways.
again others put it as being 'too emotional'(=as 'not rational at all', which, by the way, it a concept altogether mistaken as the two things are not each others opposites)
...
in any case i learn that i still live two lives: i am a teacher and a psycho girl. i am a baby and a lady, a kid, a bitch..i am all opposties. i am like this thing that gives electric shocks to herslef..I NEED GROUNDING!
Chambers lawsuit, which was filed on Friday in Douglas County Court, seeks a permanent injunction ordering God to cease certain harmful activities and the making of terroristic threats.
The lawsuit admits God goes by all sorts of alias, names, titles and designations and it also recognizes the fact that the defendant is omnipresent.
The lawsuit accuses God "of making and continuing to make terroristic threats of grave harm to innumerable persons, including constituents of Plaintiff who Plaintiff has the duty to represent." It says God has caused "fearsome floods, egregious earthquakes, horrendous hurricanes, terrifying tornadoes, pestilential plagues, ferocious famines, devastating droughts, genocidal wars, birth defects and the like."
The suit also says God has caused "calamitous catastrophes resulting in the wide-spread death, destruction and terrorization of millions upon millions of the Earth’s inhabitants including innocent babes, infants, children, the aged and infirm without mercy or distinction."
http://www.ketv.com/news/14133442/detail.html
...
Now what? Listening to news early morning -caffé pouring into my body and activating it- i remember under the shower?: but acording to Nietzche God is dead...so what?
can you sue a dead man? or i mean.. a dead god? do you have to blame him for irresponsible human behaviour? Oh my....how absurd is this! i mean DO WE REALLY HAVE TO carry certain things so far to make CERTAIN pple understand that what they are doing is SENSELESS???
...
the whole of the weak i have been learining how to teach English to 2-8 year olds while stitches itched on my back as traces of last week's operation were slowly-but-surely healing.
wednesday i have found myself talking about existentialism and other branches of phylosophy with a 50yr old man at the waiting hall fo the hospital (before having my back cleaned after a week and learining that obviously the malls taken off didnt have cancer). again how absurd. where do one has to go and what circumstances(3hrs of waiting ..staning..on a corridor) have to force us to link and form somewhat meaningful conversations?
...
I also wonder why do people need me as a professional to tell them that they should protect their kids, create a somewhat stable and safe environment and love? are we really not able to do that wihtout additional outside-feedback any more?
...
i also wonder what the word boyfriend mean to me?
and i wonder if Eszter would sit on the metro with me sometimes if she still lived.
i wonder what other people think of ..those who do not have to think about death or philosophy every day...i wonder if i could do anything to think less, or at least to feel less...
some say i'm too introspective.
other's say my brain works in strange ways.
again others put it as being 'too emotional'(=as 'not rational at all', which, by the way, it a concept altogether mistaken as the two things are not each others opposites)
...
in any case i learn that i still live two lives: i am a teacher and a psycho girl. i am a baby and a lady, a kid, a bitch..i am all opposties. i am like this thing that gives electric shocks to herslef..I NEED GROUNDING!
Sunday, 9 September 2007
Blogging-is-hard-when-sick-in-bed
Obviously Blogging never works as i would wish it to work.
Notes end up being published in a messy mass...
and i end up deleting and re-creating;
yet i hope creating a space
(even if virtual)
where my mind may be
streached out and relaxed
will help me
get well
soon
and out of bed
and in the sun again.:)
Notes end up being published in a messy mass...
and i end up deleting and re-creating;
yet i hope creating a space
(even if virtual)
where my mind may be
streached out and relaxed
will help me
get well
soon
and out of bed
and in the sun again.:)
Poems-time-and-parallels
I've become impossible again:
sleepless, irritable, perverse.
One day
I work
as if beating a wild beast, as if cursing all that's holy,
and the next day
lie on my back from morning to night,
a lazy song on my lips like an unlit cigarette.
And it drives me crazy,
the hatred
and pity I feel for myself. . .
I've become impossible again:
sleepless, irritable, perverse.
Again, as always,
I'm wrong.
I have no cause and couldn't possibly.
What I'm doing is shameful,
a disgrace.
But I can't help it:
I'm jealous of you,
forgive me. . .
/Nazim Hikmet:8 October 1945/
Strangely it has been towards the beginning of May
that i have felt these lines described me best.
Sleepless, irritable...-and wrong.
Why strangely? well..strangely for there is a slight parallel in
that and this situation.
Then: it was about closing the door behind me and realizing i had a heart that wanted to be alive.
Now: it is about stearting a new sort of life and realizing i have a heart that wanted to be alive.
Then: it was about putting a fullstop at suffering over past.
Now: it is about putting brackets around questionmarks.
But since im not sure what weight can questionmarks hold i cannot tell how long will they hide me away from certain incertainties.
........
and as many times before i find myself mumbling words without an end and putting them down on a piece of paper i realize i am running away from an endless feeling, im running away like this:
Bontott vitorlákkal,csendesen
gondolattalan s mégse hűvösen
fordulok el
Tőled,
vagy csupán Attól,amit Kép-viseltél:
a Vég-telent.
Since most of it is my mind's trick to twist feelings into shapes of poems i am not sure whether a correct translation will ever form in my mind..but i shall try to explain it as:
With sails undone, quietly
thought-less but not coolly
do i turn away
from You,
or merely from That, what you Re-presented:
the unEnding.
All-right. Words seem to have found there places ...yet i would daresay,
Kép-viseltél doesnt really equal Re-presented (because képvisel=represent, but kép=image, visel=bear, wear => képvisel= the image that you bore/wore)
whereas Vég-telent is almost prefectly be mirrored by unEnding (as sinonym for Infinite) for végetelen=infinite, but vég=the end, il fine and -telen= negative affixe meaning 'without'
Paradise, or the city of sluts
Last night - Szóda, then Szimpla: catching up with some friends -we end up talking about female behaviour. For the nth time I have to realize - and sadly admit - that my city may seem Paradise to any men, it is not other then a microcosm of sluts to me.
Why are we - and this 'we' often contains me, for different behaviour is often ignored, looked over, or at least noted as 'ah well, yeah, she is a little harder to get, but that'll pass'- ... why are WE(=Hungarian women) so easy to get?
Let me summerize all theories I've heard as explanation/excuse ect. over the years:
We are simple bitchier then women of other nations. (Original version coming from Á. if i recall it correctly and goes as follows: Tutti uomini son stronzi e tutte donne son puttane. Uomini italiani son un po piú stronzi dell'altri, donne ungherese son un po piú puttene che l'ltre. => per questo si trovano molto bene insieme.)
We are not used to men being straight-forward-charming-romantic-casanovas => therefall we are doomed to fail in their arms.
Or: may it be simply that women in this city of 'paradise' do not give a shit about relationships based on emotions (rather than lust)?
As for me..i keep trying not to strive for an explanation. I try not to give a damn if someone puts me in the same box (oh, com'on im not so bad looking+im hungarian => i will surely not be faithful to any man for longer than the first few months of a relationship). Maybe they are right somewhere. Maybe i shouldnt be... but..after all...it is easier to swallow being mistaken for a slut then my own spit landing on my face.
Why are we - and this 'we' often contains me, for different behaviour is often ignored, looked over, or at least noted as 'ah well, yeah, she is a little harder to get, but that'll pass'- ... why are WE(=Hungarian women) so easy to get?
Let me summerize all theories I've heard as explanation/excuse ect. over the years:
We are simple bitchier then women of other nations. (Original version coming from Á. if i recall it correctly and goes as follows: Tutti uomini son stronzi e tutte donne son puttane. Uomini italiani son un po piú stronzi dell'altri, donne ungherese son un po piú puttene che l'ltre. => per questo si trovano molto bene insieme.)
We are not used to men being straight-forward-charming-romantic-casanovas => therefall we are doomed to fail in their arms.
Or: may it be simply that women in this city of 'paradise' do not give a shit about relationships based on emotions (rather than lust)?
As for me..i keep trying not to strive for an explanation. I try not to give a damn if someone puts me in the same box (oh, com'on im not so bad looking+im hungarian => i will surely not be faithful to any man for longer than the first few months of a relationship). Maybe they are right somewhere. Maybe i shouldnt be... but..after all...it is easier to swallow being mistaken for a slut then my own spit landing on my face.
The fact that you are in love...
...doesnt serve as a reason for being loved.
/Or as I have first read it: "Hogy szerelems vagy, az nem ok arra, hogy szeressenek"/
'But why do I love him/her then?'- is a simple question noone can avoid coming across if maintaining a friendship. Most people expect a simple (because s/he has given you all of this..or is a good person..ect) type of praises..in even worse cases they ecpect that me -as an outsider - out of sheer firnedhip will glorify someone:
a) i do not know well
b) i am clearly not in love with
c) probably see as a 'normal creature' with mistakes ect.
Now: Do we actually need a reason to love someone?
During my somewhat hectic studies (somewhere in-between family-therapy-feminism-and the application of the /in/famous Rorschach test) someone tried to convince me of the following:
If in a realtionship when one is asked 'Honey, why do you love me?'- the answer is: because you make me feel good => we can be sure that the love (that basterd) feels is EGOISTIC.
Instead if s/he manages to nominate a lot of characteristics of yours that make you unique in her/his eyes=> well you can be sure that the love (that darling)feels for you is real.
Hmm. It brings into my mind the folk tale about the king and his three daugthers..but more precisely.. the story of King Lear. Did Cornelia love her father less just because, instead of bragging about his fantastic nature ect ect, she tried to sum up her love for him in as few words as possible?
Should love be summed up? Isnt all love we feel egoistic? I mean what sort of love whould make you feel bad? Isnt the fact that your sheer presence may make another person feel good about him/herself enough to make one feel happy?
I would rather agree with Marquez (although maybe it wasnt even him from whom the following words stem) who once said:
"I don't love you for who you are,
I love you for who I become when i'm with you."
Returning to the beginning that is feeling love as not a 'reason' for being loved...
i don't know. i still think you have to be anyone great or fantastic or supersexy to be loved. you just simply have to exist...anyone who exists is given love.
Are you a sceptic? => Watch Björk...:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EjAoBKagWQA
/Or as I have first read it: "Hogy szerelems vagy, az nem ok arra, hogy szeressenek"/
'But why do I love him/her then?'- is a simple question noone can avoid coming across if maintaining a friendship. Most people expect a simple (because s/he has given you all of this..or is a good person..ect) type of praises..in even worse cases they ecpect that me -as an outsider - out of sheer firnedhip will glorify someone:
a) i do not know well
b) i am clearly not in love with
c) probably see as a 'normal creature' with mistakes ect.
Now: Do we actually need a reason to love someone?
During my somewhat hectic studies (somewhere in-between family-therapy-feminism-and the application of the /in/famous Rorschach test) someone tried to convince me of the following:
If in a realtionship when one is asked 'Honey, why do you love me?'- the answer is: because you make me feel good => we can be sure that the love (that basterd) feels is EGOISTIC.
Instead if s/he manages to nominate a lot of characteristics of yours that make you unique in her/his eyes=> well you can be sure that the love (that darling)feels for you is real.
Hmm. It brings into my mind the folk tale about the king and his three daugthers..but more precisely.. the story of King Lear. Did Cornelia love her father less just because, instead of bragging about his fantastic nature ect ect, she tried to sum up her love for him in as few words as possible?
Should love be summed up? Isnt all love we feel egoistic? I mean what sort of love whould make you feel bad? Isnt the fact that your sheer presence may make another person feel good about him/herself enough to make one feel happy?
I would rather agree with Marquez (although maybe it wasnt even him from whom the following words stem) who once said:
"I don't love you for who you are,
I love you for who I become when i'm with you."
Returning to the beginning that is feeling love as not a 'reason' for being loved...
i don't know. i still think you have to be anyone great or fantastic or supersexy to be loved. you just simply have to exist...anyone who exists is given love.
Are you a sceptic? => Watch Björk...:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EjAoBKagWQA
Mirror-Specchio-Tükör
"I am not more that a mirror
in which my reader may see his/her own thoughts with its deformities,
and based on the mirrored image
s/he may prepare the necessary corrections."
/Wittgeinstein: Culture and Value/
"Nem vagyok több, csupán tükör,
melyben olvasóm a saját gondolatait látja, deformitásaival együtt,
s e tükörkép alapján
meg tudja tenni a kellő kiigazításokat."
"Non sono più che un specchio
in cui mio lettore possa vedere i propri pensieri con il proprio deformità,
e basato su quel rilesso specchiato
possa preparare le correzzione necessarie."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Reader.
whoever you may be - at the moment imaginary, not more than a vibrating screen mirroring my own reflection on a cold September morning - on the pages following this you may read me: my mind, my thoughts...you may look into my head and use me to reflect.
Some of my thoughts you certainly find hectic, for i will not strive to write in a neat, clear style. Most of what you may find here will be written in English - my chosen 'mother tounge' - but some may be in Italian - my language of sentiments - or Hungarian - the only language even the devil respects for its complexity and wholeness.
in which my reader may see his/her own thoughts with its deformities,
and based on the mirrored image
s/he may prepare the necessary corrections."
/Wittgeinstein: Culture and Value/
"Nem vagyok több, csupán tükör,
melyben olvasóm a saját gondolatait látja, deformitásaival együtt,
s e tükörkép alapján
meg tudja tenni a kellő kiigazításokat."
"Non sono più che un specchio
in cui mio lettore possa vedere i propri pensieri con il proprio deformità,
e basato su quel rilesso specchiato
possa preparare le correzzione necessarie."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Reader.
whoever you may be - at the moment imaginary, not more than a vibrating screen mirroring my own reflection on a cold September morning - on the pages following this you may read me: my mind, my thoughts...you may look into my head and use me to reflect.
Some of my thoughts you certainly find hectic, for i will not strive to write in a neat, clear style. Most of what you may find here will be written in English - my chosen 'mother tounge' - but some may be in Italian - my language of sentiments - or Hungarian - the only language even the devil respects for its complexity and wholeness.
Enjoy. Reflect(privately, or publicly by adding a comment,-in any language - if you feel like). :-)
...............................................................................................................
...............................................................................................................
For better understanding: English-Italian online dictionary (reasonably good one):
http://www.wordreference.com/enit/storm
Hungarian-English(okay one):
http://www.wordreference.com/enit/storm
Hungarian-Italian (quite poor, but so far I have not found a better one online):
http://szotar.sztaki.hu/olasz-magyar
----.-------------.------------------.----------------.-----
Past blog (with emotional turmoils): http://farfalla.freeblog.hu/
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