Friday, 28 October 2011

Turning inside


Last night I woke up in the middle of a very important, meaningful dream. I knew I had to remember it – it was my subconsciousness or whoever telling me something significant. It was dark, I didn’t want to wake up Tania and I was sleepy so I decided I wouldn’t turn lights on and write it down. Instead I memorized a key-word, which would remind me everything in the morning. I was so sure I would remember it, ha, ha. Well, maybe it wasn’t that important message after all.

The first two days of my weekend I spent mostly in bed reading books and watching new episodes of Dexter. Today, after doing a huge laundry, I dragged myself out. I took a train to Flintholm, then a metro to Christiania, had a walk there, drunk a small beer (which in Denmark means just “a beer”), smoked a cigarette (first one since a long time), then walked to Nørreport and back home. Nothing exciting. I’m not considering taking up smoking again. I’m just so tired of my anxiety and constant worrying about everything that I wanted to do something stupid and not to feel bad about it. It worked:)

Then I drew the blinds, put some chilled music on and napped with radiators full power on and air humidity of a rainforest (from all that laundry drying in the room). It felt like sleeping in a sauna. When Tania came from work she told me I’m crazy and I should open the window, because it feels like a stinky, sweaty jungle in here:)

Main reflection from today – I think I'm losing hope for profound communication with people. That was my main drive for the first half of my life (assuming that I'm in the middle of it) - actually last few years it became even a kind of obsession – but now I start to withdraw. All those journeys, talks, faith leaps, sacrifices, etc. - it just doesn’t seem to work. Either there is something wrong with me, either with humanity, or I’m just out of luck, and don’t get meeting the right people. Whatever the reason is, I’m turning inside. I’m still open (I wouldn’t continue this blog if I wasn’t), but it’s more a habit then something real. (I’m not being bitter or whining here, so thanks for well meant advices!;)

Ok, the last day off is almost over. Tomorrow back to work. And on Sunday my pay-cheque should arrive. I’m thinking about new shoes and winter coat. And gloves without fingers! I love those and the ones I have are in shreds already. And a new train pass (two zones). I feel like a Copenhagen king with it.

Wednesday, 26 October 2011

Finding harmony in the chaos



Dzyn, dzyn, dzyn in Polish means ding, ding, ding.
No worries, I’m not falling into Christmas fever already. I just like the wintery moods that are clearly coming – shorter days, coolness, the fragrance of the air – this vague, nondescript, icy-sweet smell, announcing the end of the old and beginning of the new. I think, I like winter better then summer. Tania says it’s because I was born during winter months. If I was born let’s say in July, I would prefer summer for sure. I don’t know how it works for others, but with me it’s true.

1. Three days off. There is a certain advantage to working 12 hours shifts – though it is brutal and so freaking loooong, I get more days off then the regular people. I’ve planned to do… nothing. Just sink into my e-book reader and carry on with Tad Williams’ “Otherland”. I’ve just finished the first volume, three to go. Mmmmm, sweet…:) And they are as thick as bricks (if you can say that about the digital books)!

2. I had a good idea today; I googled “artists similar to Ane Brum”. So now I enjoy the evening in the company of Anna Ternheim, Nina Kinert, Sophie Zelmani and Susanne Sundfør. That’s exactly what I need – soft lady’s voice and songs about the peaceful stuff: love, longing, walks in the sunshine, picking up flowers, looking at clouds, holding hands, eating pasta, taking taxi to the cosy huts from childhood, playing with a dog…

3. I’ve finished another book too. “Nothing Can Be Changed Here” by Kazimierz Dabrowski. Because taking life easy is important, especially when you feel a mess, but it’s also important to look deep in, not being shallow. And this play is one of the most beautiful and weird things I’ve ever read. Look it up.

"I was reading something about Durrenmatt's philosophy… I find it very appealing… What he more or less says is that the struggle of truth and good with the world of daily reality can't have positive results; truth and good always lose, and the battle is hopeless. But that which can be called human in the best sense of the word, is the courage to carry out the tasks in which we believe the true essence of humanity lies, even though they are doomed to failure from the outset. Right to the end we mustn’t give way, mustn’t back out or accommodate ourselves… we must continue to be ourselves, to withstand the weight of evil and opposition. We must consciously take the path fate has destined for us… After all, it isn't so difficult - the greater difficulty lies in existence without that path, trying to find a direction without it."

4. That’s it for now. I’ve already got carried away and made this entry too draggy. My better half is sewing felted Christmas decorations in the shape of hearts, behind the door one of the housemates (by the sound of scrapping slippers I guess it's Justina) put the kettle on, Sophie Zelmanie wonders if she could, the imaginary cat plays with a sock on my foot. Though I feel inadequate, I don’t fight it, and it feels cool. Kind of peaceful.
See u guys.

Monday, 17 October 2011

Two stories

Ok, maybe it doesn't look very funny in this cartoon, but belive me, when it was hapenning, it was awsome. That cat was so sure he knew me, and then he was so confused when he saw his "second" owner standing next to me. But he had a right to be confused - we really looked like brothers.



On the personal note (overdoing it probably)

So here I go - for the last few months I'm going trough a rough time. Many things contributed to the mess I found myself in - dad's death, moving the country, looking for an apartment, job, health problems, bad shroom trip which scared (scarred) me to death, relationship stuff. All this brought me to a personal crisis I'm only starting to get out of. During this time I was writing and drawing about some of those things, but I kept it to myself. I felt it's too private to share. Here, on the Stranger I published just some drawings, omitting the text they were illustrations to. However lately I'm getting better and maybe because of getting some distance to myself I decided to publish some of the stuff I wrote that time. I seriously hope I haven't become exhibitionistic!:) I think it is just the writer's (or any human's for that matter) need to share.
I wasn't sure how to go about it, but eventually I decided to update the old posts. Before every new text I have added, I placed "update" in red so it is easier to find.

Still I promise - it's not going to be just all serious from now on!:)

Sunday, 9 October 2011

The sweet '90s


It wasn't only Dr. Alban. I think at some point it was Haddaway, Shaggy, Stakka Bo. Leila K. and Vanilla Ice :P

Monday, 3 October 2011

Pieces of her




Pieces of Her

1
She wanted to fly,
catch the ray of the sun,
but her wings were not fit
for this task.

When she hit the hard ground
she still tried to reach out
but her arms were too broken
to grasp.

refrain:
Waiting rooms, crying grooms,
No one brings them warm wool blankets,
anxious minds, disappointed with life and drunk,
nothing can fill that dark spot,
so what…

2
First kiss, first love, first journey, first fist in the sky,
first religion, then second, then none,
filling cosmic space with laughs and yelling and cries,
hoping that someone out there will care.

Autumn sunshine splits trough green glass,
empty room, empty chair, empty soul,
Pieces of her lifted by gentle wind,
maybe in rainbow they meet…