Saturday, 10 September 2011

Those nostalgic idiots


Today I've watched Midnight in Paris by Woody Allen. It really cheered me up, a lovely movie, I felt like all the problems got lifted for a moment. The cartoon came out of it (I'm not sure, but it may be a kind of a spoiler, but I hope it's not revealing too much;)

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update

I always promise myself I wont write when I'm down, but then I do it anyway. And I come out as a stupid whiner.

What’s up? Nothing new, the same old story for the last few months - I am fed up with myself, so fucking fed up. I used to be happy inside. Not complacent but just happy. I knew who I was, valued myself, accepted my situation and tried making the best use of it.
I was proud of my open-mindedness, spiritual background, budding talents, loving beautiful women by my side, freedom.

What’s left? Not much. I don’t like myself anymore, feel locked in the place way too small for me, I just want to be someone else – someone who is more grounded, serene, peaceful, satisfied with the things that come by itself, accepting life as it is, enjoying little pleasures, feeling the presence of guardian spirits (God, if you will), playing cards with my love, having a beer with my brothers, reading some old SF novel without feeling that I’m wasting my time, hiking in the mountains near my hometown and feel refreshed and easy instead of lonely and alienated in the company of nature.
What else? It’s not that bad if I still can recall…

I remember sleigh party, crackling cold, bright moon, thousands of stars, laughing friends, singing, icy wind throwing snow at my face, existing just in the present. Wonderful feeling. Or sitting by the fireplace in my room, just before Christmas, with lights off, flames reflecting on the walls, listening to Cranberries and smoking cigarettes, not worrying even for a second about the cancer. Or writing a poem just for myself, not feeling the need to show it to anyone, to get recognition (or stupid “like” on facebook. Wow, life before internet!;). Or walking with my sweetheart in the evening to find an open shop, so we could get a can of cola and chewing gum for our last money. Or playing chess with my father while peeking at some old detective series in our small television set in the kitchen. Or trying to pray silently before dawn, watching darkness of the night turning into grey and then golden day, feeling small and looked after.

Yes, I do remember all those states of mind. It means that I’m not fucked up by default. So what's happened?

2 comments:

  1. those glorious times or that glorious time :)

    Wow can you draw well!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Ha, ha, thanks for pointing. I could say that English isn't my first language, but it's not an excuse with such an obvious mistake:)

    ReplyDelete