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?

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

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.

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)

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.:)

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?

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...

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...

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:)

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...

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.

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).