10/09/2007
9/12/2007
"Raske on lühike olla, jalad väsivad ära!"
Ehk siis, selge õppetund sellest, et pikk inimene ei pea mitte ennast langetama samale tasapinnale, kui lühike.
Olen liiga palju elulisi õppetunde saanud viimaste kuude jooksul, et on kadunud isegi soov seda kõike üles kirjutada, nii ehk naa mõtlen pidevalt ja on siis seda kõike veel mustvalgel vaja näha?
Ööd muutuvad pimedamaks ja üksikumaks. Nagu ühe kontserdi kuulutus: Mr. X - Live and Alone. Jah, ega see üksindus tapa, aga uhke ka vist selle üle olla ei oska. Unistused on hirmu koleda maski taga peidus ja vahel ei oska enam isegi häid asju soovida endale, sest ei tea, kust alata, kas üldse alata, miks alata, kuidas alata. Kellelgi on vastuseid? Ootan.
Vahel isegi need,
kel on alati midagi
öelda vaikivad
ja siis olen täiesti üksi
ei oska endaga
midagi peale hakata
ei ole piisavalt hull
ega piisavalt mees
et olla Alliksaar
võibolla polegi
enam mõtet öelda
peale teda tulgu
või maailmalõpp -
ka see oleks ilus
linn, mis iial ei maga
näib maha magavat
puu otsast langevaid
maailmalõppusid
isegi tähed tõmbasid
teki üle pea
ja andsid alla
ise jäin ootama
et tühik tühistaks enda
varsti
ongi
valge
eks?
8/10/2007
EVERYDAY SACRED (viimane 13. osa)
Nagu Loesje postkaart ütleb - I hate when a book ends, so I start from the end.
Mulle endale on vaja seda raamatut siia. Võibolla kuskile mujale tõstmine tuleb tulevikus. Autor on Sue Bender ja ma alustan viimasest osast.
SMALL MIRACLES
Allow - For The Possibilities
"Maybe I wrote Everyday Sacred to learn more about miracles," I said in the prologue.
I wanted a big miracle, one that would last, but one of the characteristics of a big mirale, the kind I had hoped for, is "it's sudden appearance and disappearance within the natural order." Instead, to my surprise, I began to discover the power of small things.
A friend made a pilgrimage to India. She saw many holy places, but her favourite was a mound made up of little pebbles, not one of them beautiful or exotic. For hundreds of years pilgrims had come to this site and each placed a tiny stone offering on the mound. The accumulation of these little stones became a "sacred" place.
I saw those little stones as stepping stones.
Stepping stones toward a new way of seeing.
Small changes in behavior, attitude, feelings, can, like the little pebbles, add up to another kind of miracle. Small miracles do build up and they can last.
When I stopped waiting for something "significant" to happen, and instead began noticing what was happening, not what I wished was happening, a series of small miracles occurred.
When I first began to trust what I was doing even when it didn't seem to make sense, when I understood that what I was doing was seeking, then what I was seeking was shown to me.
People knocked on my door and said, "Would you like this?" Chance occurrences, unexpected meetings made me feel I was not alone.
When I trusted I was doing something of value, goals and timetables had a way of taking care of themselves.
Jung called them "meaningful coincidences." Peter, a Swiss friend, described the German word zufall, which roughly translates as "to fall into." "Something falls to you," he said, "not as something you caused, but a coincidence you are ready to accept and absorb in your life." I realized he was describing serendipity. I notice these moments come when I'm not demanding or insistent that they come.
Today, stapled on a telephone pole crowded with other posters, I saw:
"Allow - for the possibilities."
Sweat Lodge
I am a "fear type" who doesn't look afraid.
In the past, my strategy has been to avoid fear or other strong feelings that make me uncomfortable, using whatever strategy I can think of. Usually I just try to keep busy.
I was about to leave Berkeley for a month, when a friend asked if I wantd to come o a sweat lodge that saturday. The timing wasn't good and I didn't know much about the ceremony, but I had a romantic image of heat, American Indian wisdom, wholeness - and a chance to bless my journey.
My friend, who had participated in the sweat lodge ceremony many times, assured me the people were sympathetic. The rural Sonoma county setting had the spare vastness of a New Mexico landscape. The ceremony would be conducted by a Lakota Sioux woman.
One at a time, the twelve of us crouched to get through a small flap in the canvas door and entered a tepee-like structure. Where I sat cross-legged on the earthen floor, my head practically touched the ceiling of the tent. The twelve of us formed a circle around a large fire pit. Very slowly a woman began carrying in lava rocks on something that looked like an elongated pizza carrier, placing each one of them carefull in the center of the fire pit.
While she was ddoing this there was a bit of chanting and a few instructions, and then the leader told us that if we chose to leave at any point of the ceremony, we would not be allowed to return.
Feeling rather pleased with myself that at sixty I was willing, even eager, to take on an unexpected adventure, something quite foreign to anything I had ever done, I sat there, calm, anticipating an interesting "event". When the last of the twenty-eight coals was placed in the pit, the woman left, closing the flap of the door behind her.
Total darkness.
Water poured on the rocks created a whoosh of furious steam heat. Heat permeating every air space. I love steam baths, so I had looked forward to this part of the ritual. It took only four minutes for me to be afraid.
Very afraid.
My friend had suggested that if it got too hot, I could lie down on the earthen floor. I tried that but it made no difference. I tried poking my fingers under a tiny opening at the bottom of the tent, hoping that would relieve my growing anxiety, but nothing worked.
This fear wasn't attached to any thoughts exept how I was going to survive.
The last thought I had was that if I managed to get out I wouldn't be hard on myself. I had done the best I could. Then, no thoughts. Only fear. Raw, palpable, free-floating fear in every cell - and darkness.
Too paralyzed, or too civilized, to yell "let me out," I was half aware of people talking with great feeling, telling what had brought them here. Each asked for guidance and a blessing from the leader, and the power she represented.
My own civilized notion of why I was here was gone. I had thought it was to aska a blessing for my journe and for the book I was writing, but now, lying on the ground, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might explode. I didn't think I was even in a condition to speak. My friend, sitting next to me, spoke, in a firm voice I had never heard her use before.
When it was my turn I hear my self´, in a quiet, slow, tiny, soft, voice say,
"I am bery afraid. I'm not sure I can stay. I am very, very frightened."
"Come and sit next to me," said the leader, who was sitting next to the exit door. She spoke some wise words, none of which I can remember now, as I crawled halfway around the circle to where she ws, feeling at the time it was the most natural of things to be doing. I lay down very still, still needing the security of the cooler ground for support.
Someone put a steady hand on my leg - and that hand stayed there, not moving, for the rest of the ritual. In the darkness I never saw who that person was. That steady hand, of a man or a woman, I never learned who it was, was a freat help.
Time passed.
The enormity of the fear began to diminish.
More chanting, a long wooden pipe handed from person to person, prayers, and the ceremony was over. The fear began to be bearable. I stepped outside and the night air was cool and welcoming.
I felt calm.
Having no place to hide, I had felt my fear and the "fear cracked open."
A giant weight had lifted off my shoulders. A huge chunk of fear I had carried just below the surface for a long time had been dislodged. Whether this fear had anything to do with my harsh judge, I didn't know, but sudeenly I felt like I was travelling through life with a lighter knapsack.
Recently I read a description of a sweat lodge: "You will probably die during the ceremony," the Indian leader had said. "And today is, after all, a good day to die." That did not sound overly dramatic to me. If anyone had warned my about what might happen during the sweat lodge ceremony, I wouldn't have taken the risk.
I saw a curious relationship; the more I was able to stay with, not move away from, uncomfortable feelings, the more I was also able to feel happy and alive.
Remembering how calm I felt when I stepped out into the night air after being in the sweat lodge, I now know I don't have to wait for an exotic ceremony to turn toward, rather than away from, difficult feelings.
I have a chance almost any day.
Mulle endale on vaja seda raamatut siia. Võibolla kuskile mujale tõstmine tuleb tulevikus. Autor on Sue Bender ja ma alustan viimasest osast.
SMALL MIRACLES
Allow - For The Possibilities
"Maybe I wrote Everyday Sacred to learn more about miracles," I said in the prologue.
I wanted a big miracle, one that would last, but one of the characteristics of a big mirale, the kind I had hoped for, is "it's sudden appearance and disappearance within the natural order." Instead, to my surprise, I began to discover the power of small things.
A friend made a pilgrimage to India. She saw many holy places, but her favourite was a mound made up of little pebbles, not one of them beautiful or exotic. For hundreds of years pilgrims had come to this site and each placed a tiny stone offering on the mound. The accumulation of these little stones became a "sacred" place.
I saw those little stones as stepping stones.
Stepping stones toward a new way of seeing.
Small changes in behavior, attitude, feelings, can, like the little pebbles, add up to another kind of miracle. Small miracles do build up and they can last.
When I stopped waiting for something "significant" to happen, and instead began noticing what was happening, not what I wished was happening, a series of small miracles occurred.
When I first began to trust what I was doing even when it didn't seem to make sense, when I understood that what I was doing was seeking, then what I was seeking was shown to me.
People knocked on my door and said, "Would you like this?" Chance occurrences, unexpected meetings made me feel I was not alone.
When I trusted I was doing something of value, goals and timetables had a way of taking care of themselves.
Jung called them "meaningful coincidences." Peter, a Swiss friend, described the German word zufall, which roughly translates as "to fall into." "Something falls to you," he said, "not as something you caused, but a coincidence you are ready to accept and absorb in your life." I realized he was describing serendipity. I notice these moments come when I'm not demanding or insistent that they come.
Today, stapled on a telephone pole crowded with other posters, I saw:
"Allow - for the possibilities."
Sweat Lodge
I am a "fear type" who doesn't look afraid.
In the past, my strategy has been to avoid fear or other strong feelings that make me uncomfortable, using whatever strategy I can think of. Usually I just try to keep busy.
I was about to leave Berkeley for a month, when a friend asked if I wantd to come o a sweat lodge that saturday. The timing wasn't good and I didn't know much about the ceremony, but I had a romantic image of heat, American Indian wisdom, wholeness - and a chance to bless my journey.
My friend, who had participated in the sweat lodge ceremony many times, assured me the people were sympathetic. The rural Sonoma county setting had the spare vastness of a New Mexico landscape. The ceremony would be conducted by a Lakota Sioux woman.
One at a time, the twelve of us crouched to get through a small flap in the canvas door and entered a tepee-like structure. Where I sat cross-legged on the earthen floor, my head practically touched the ceiling of the tent. The twelve of us formed a circle around a large fire pit. Very slowly a woman began carrying in lava rocks on something that looked like an elongated pizza carrier, placing each one of them carefull in the center of the fire pit.
While she was ddoing this there was a bit of chanting and a few instructions, and then the leader told us that if we chose to leave at any point of the ceremony, we would not be allowed to return.
Feeling rather pleased with myself that at sixty I was willing, even eager, to take on an unexpected adventure, something quite foreign to anything I had ever done, I sat there, calm, anticipating an interesting "event". When the last of the twenty-eight coals was placed in the pit, the woman left, closing the flap of the door behind her.
Total darkness.
Water poured on the rocks created a whoosh of furious steam heat. Heat permeating every air space. I love steam baths, so I had looked forward to this part of the ritual. It took only four minutes for me to be afraid.
Very afraid.
My friend had suggested that if it got too hot, I could lie down on the earthen floor. I tried that but it made no difference. I tried poking my fingers under a tiny opening at the bottom of the tent, hoping that would relieve my growing anxiety, but nothing worked.
This fear wasn't attached to any thoughts exept how I was going to survive.
The last thought I had was that if I managed to get out I wouldn't be hard on myself. I had done the best I could. Then, no thoughts. Only fear. Raw, palpable, free-floating fear in every cell - and darkness.
Too paralyzed, or too civilized, to yell "let me out," I was half aware of people talking with great feeling, telling what had brought them here. Each asked for guidance and a blessing from the leader, and the power she represented.
My own civilized notion of why I was here was gone. I had thought it was to aska a blessing for my journe and for the book I was writing, but now, lying on the ground, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might explode. I didn't think I was even in a condition to speak. My friend, sitting next to me, spoke, in a firm voice I had never heard her use before.
When it was my turn I hear my self´, in a quiet, slow, tiny, soft, voice say,
"I am bery afraid. I'm not sure I can stay. I am very, very frightened."
"Come and sit next to me," said the leader, who was sitting next to the exit door. She spoke some wise words, none of which I can remember now, as I crawled halfway around the circle to where she ws, feeling at the time it was the most natural of things to be doing. I lay down very still, still needing the security of the cooler ground for support.
Someone put a steady hand on my leg - and that hand stayed there, not moving, for the rest of the ritual. In the darkness I never saw who that person was. That steady hand, of a man or a woman, I never learned who it was, was a freat help.
Time passed.
The enormity of the fear began to diminish.
More chanting, a long wooden pipe handed from person to person, prayers, and the ceremony was over. The fear began to be bearable. I stepped outside and the night air was cool and welcoming.
I felt calm.
Having no place to hide, I had felt my fear and the "fear cracked open."
A giant weight had lifted off my shoulders. A huge chunk of fear I had carried just below the surface for a long time had been dislodged. Whether this fear had anything to do with my harsh judge, I didn't know, but sudeenly I felt like I was travelling through life with a lighter knapsack.
Recently I read a description of a sweat lodge: "You will probably die during the ceremony," the Indian leader had said. "And today is, after all, a good day to die." That did not sound overly dramatic to me. If anyone had warned my about what might happen during the sweat lodge ceremony, I wouldn't have taken the risk.
I saw a curious relationship; the more I was able to stay with, not move away from, uncomfortable feelings, the more I was also able to feel happy and alive.
Remembering how calm I felt when I stepped out into the night air after being in the sweat lodge, I now know I don't have to wait for an exotic ceremony to turn toward, rather than away from, difficult feelings.
I have a chance almost any day.
7/18/2007
Peaaegu täiuslik.
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Ja nüüd ma siis kartsin.
Seda helendavat linna, mis tundus justkui mu jalge ees lömitavat. Lihtsalt lamas oma ülbes üleolekus allpool neid puudelatvu, mille kohal ma öist sigaretti pahvisin ja mõttes jalgu kõlgutasin.
Hirmus oli talle selga pöörata. (Üksindus tuleb just kõige ootamatutel hetkedel.)
Eriti, kui mu lohutavasse pimedusse saabus valgust täis lift, millesse pidin astuma.
Ma ei teadnud, mida see pime linn mu seljataga teeb.
Kartsin väga seda armastust, mis mõnes sumedas toas on. On olemas.
Et keegi on õnnelik.
Sest isegi kuud ei olnud.
Polnud ka kellegi varrukast kinni võtta. Julgustuseks.
Isegi kiljatada ei julgenud.
Argpüks.
Peaaegu täiuslik.
7/15/2007
7/08/2007
Kas tunneksid mind ära teiste valgete liblikate seast?
1. Usun siiralt, naiivselt ja ümberveenmatult, et kõik juhtub põhjusega. Ma ei tea kunagi, kust alustada ja millega, aga ka teadmatus on siiani kuskile (!) välja viinud.
2. Kardan inimesi. Isegi kui üritan mitte. Nad suudavad üpris lihtsalt mulle lähedale pääseda ja seda ära kasutada, haiget teha.
3. Olen esteet. Haiglaselt, boheemlaslikult ja kitšilt. Nii palju oleneb (välja)nägemisest. Vahel näen isegi ette.
4. Ei taha kaotada võimet naeratada, naerda. Seega teen seda võimalikult tihti, et olla kindel, et ikka veel oskan.
5. Vihastan paar korda aastas ja siis nii, et silme eest must ja kõik asjad lendavad, olen üheaegselt raevunud enda ja kogu inimkonna pihta. Nendel hetkedel ei tasu mu silme alla sattuda.
6. Ma ei taha igavesti elada. Küll aga piisavalt huvitavalt ja seega üritan mitte omada eelarvamusi inimeste, tegevuste, kohtade suhtes. Olen palju üllatusi kogenud.
7. ... (alati peab midagi saladuseks ka jääma ;))
6/26/2007
Tegelikult
ei ole midagi hirmutavamat
kui oskamatus
maailmale naeratada
seda tõeliselt mõelda
ilma kõigi nende pisarateta
mis kunagi on nutetud
ilma valuta mälus
kipitavast igatsusest
mis igatseb tegelikult
et teda enda huvides
ära ei kasutaks
madalamate eesmärkide nimel
unustada ei tohi
andestama peab
isegi, kui kõik on muutunud
ja keegi on
rohkem katki kui teine
ja keegi on
ükskõiksem kui enne
naerata palun
naerata
sest elu on
seda irooniat väärt
6/22/2007
Don't worry, be happy!*
There's nothing more to say. I don't want to commit.
_________________________________________
*Armastan Bobby't selle laulu eest igavesti
6/16/2007
Inimesed, te olete pimedad!
Jah, just, te lihtsalt ei näe, mis toimub. Te ei saa kellestki aru, välja arvatud juhul, kui need teised olete te ise. Fakin' egoism ja vaatan-ainult-oma-mätta-otsast. Kui te ise oleksite kõiksus, siis te mõistaks, aga ei ole. Niisiis, kuna midagi on valesti, siis peaks vähemalt üritama.
Mina ei kavatse enam vait olla. Mina-mina-mina! Vähemalt ma pole vait ja ei teeskle, et kõik on korras.
Aga ma ei näe. Ma näen, mis toimub, aga kellegi üritust pole veel kohanud. Peeglisse vaatamine ei too sellele kõigele lahendust. Te lihtsalt ootate, mis elu kandikul ette kannab ja siis pole rahul, sest te ju andsite endast kõik, püsimaks täpselt samas kohas, et elu ikka kindlasti teid üles leiaks. Totaalne mõttetus. Ja alati on ju kedagi teist süüdistada. Alati on keegi, kellel on väike pind. Aga enamusel on palgid. Ja need pindudega tüübid saavad palkide eest ka. Mina lähen järjest rohkem vihale - hoidke alt, kui ma ükskord päriselt vihastan. Siis jõuab see kuradisillal oodatud kurat lõpuks kohale, ainult et teisel kujul, kui te ootaks.
Selle viha kogunemise vastu ei aita ka kurbus ja hirm, mida ma enda sees märganud olen viimasel ajal. Need mõlemad on seotud sama teemaga, mis vihagi, aga nad on... õrnad ja jõuetud. Mida õrnemaks ja jõuetumaks jään, seda enam ma ei näita seda välja. Bitching-bitching, onetwothree! Et nüüd te siis teate. Või siis mitte. Ega ma ei ootagi enam, et mingid positiivsed nähtused antud teemas juhtuks. Vähemalt ma olen natuke enda seest välja saanud. Hämades. Aga kui te vähegi arukad olete, siis te saate aru, kes te täpselt olete ja mida te valesti teete. Ma väga loodan.
Minu jaoks on kaks teed. Esiteks, ma ei mängi teiega, niikaua, kui teie ei mängi minuga. Ja teiseks, muutun järjest vihasemaks ja kui see kulmineerub, siis peale seda on mul teist väga ükskõik. Tegelikult ka. Sest viha ei meeldi mulle ja ma ei pea veetma aega inimestega, kes mind vihastavad. Urr! Punkt.
5/31/2007
Vähe aega paljudeks asjadeks.
Kukkusin eile magama veidi peale kahte. Enne äravajumist mäletan, et kell oli 2.05. Ärkasin puhanuna ja olin unes kogenud pikka sündmustejada. Kell oli 2.20.
Oleks kogu elu nii.
Oleks kogu elu nii.
4/14/2007
Põrgu ON teised inimesed. What a wicked game.
The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.
It's strange what desire will make foolish people do.
I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you.
And I never dreamed that I knew somebody like you.
No, I don't want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
No, I don't want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
With you. With you. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way.
What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you.
What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way.
What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you and,
I want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
No, I want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
With you.
The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.
It's strange what desire will make foolish people do.
I never dreamed that I'd love somebody like you.
And I never dreamed that I'd loose somebody like you no,
No, I want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
No, I want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
With you. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
With you. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
No, I... (This world is only gonna break your heart)
(This world is only gonna break your heart)
Nobody loves no one.
3/14/2007
"I chase my vinyl dreams to boogie wonderland"
Dance boogie wonderland
Dance boogie wonderland
Midnight creeps so slowly into hearts,
Of men who need more than they get
Daylight deals a bad hand,
To a woman that has laid to many bets
The mirror stares you in the face and says
Baby, uh uh it dont work
You say your prayers through you dont care
You dance and shake the hurt
Dance boogie wonderland
Dance boogie wonderland
Sound fly through the night
I chase my vinyl dreams to boogie wonderland
I find romance when I start to dance in boogie wonderland
I find romance when I start to dance in boogie wonderland
All the love in the world cant be gone
All the need to be loved cant be wrong
All the records are playing
And my heart keeps saying
Boogie wonderland, wonderland
Dance boogie wonderland
Dance boogie wonderland
All the love in the world cant be gone
All the need to be loved cant be wrong
All the records are playing
And my heart keeps saying
Boogie wonderland, wonderland
Dance boogie wonderland
Dance boogie wonderland
3/08/2007
Norah Jones - Thinking About You
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 to lead me,
You hold my hand, but do you really need me?
I guess it's time for me to let you go,
But I'll be thinkin' about you,
I'll be 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...
__________________________________________
Võibolla peaksin ma ütlema midagi rohkemat, kui need laulud, mis siia olen postitanud, aga pole ju mõtet, kui need räägivad enda eest...
2/19/2007
Heart - All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You
It was a rainy night when he came into sight
Standing by the road
no umbrella
no coat
So I pulled up along side and I offered him a ride
He accepted with a smile so we drove for a while
I didn't ask him his name
this lonely boy in the rain
Fate tell me it's right
is this love at first sight
Please don't make it wrong
just stay for the night
All I wanna do is make love to you
Say you will
You want me too
All I wanna do is make love to you
I've got loving arms to hold on too
So we found this hotel
it was a place I knew well
We made magic that night. Oh
he did everything right
He brought the woman out of me
so many times
easily
And in the morning when he woke all I let him was a note
I told him 'I am the flower you are the seed'
We walked in the garden we planted a tree
Don't try to find me
please don't you dare
Just live in my memory
you 'll always be there
All I wanna do is make love to you
One night of love was all we knew
All I wanna do is make love to you
I've got loving arms to hold on too
Oh
oooh
we made love
Love like strangers
All night long
We made love
Then it happened one day
we came round the same way
You can imagine his surprise when he saw his own eyes
I said 'please
please understand
I'm in love with another man
And what he couldn't give me
was the one little thing you can'
All I wanna do is make love to you
One night of love was all we knew
All I want to do is make love to you
Come on
say you will
you want me too
All I wanna do is make love to you
One night of love was all we knew
All I want to do is make love to you
Say you will
you want me to
All night long
All night long
All night long
All night long.
2/06/2007
Macy Gray - I try
Games, changes and fears
When will they go from here
When will they stop
I belive that fate has brought us here
And we should be together babe
But were not
I play it off, but Im dreaming of you
And Ill try to keep my cool, but Im feenin
I try to say goodbye and I choke
Try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it, its clear
My world crumbles when you are not here
Goodbye and I choke
I try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it, its clear
My world crumbles when you are not here
I may appear to be free
But Im just a prisoner of your love
And I may seem all right and smile when you leave
But my smiles are just a front
Just a front, hey
I play it off, but Im dreaming of you
And Ill try to keep my cool, but Im feenin
I try to say goodbye and I choke
Try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it, its clear
My world crumbles when you are not here
Goodbye and I choke
I try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it, its clear
My world crumbles when you are not here
Here is my confession
May I be your possession
Boy, I need your touch
Your love, kisses and such
With all my might I try
But this I cant deny
Deny
I play it off, but Im dreaming of you
(but Im dreaming of you babe)
And Ill keep my cool, but Im feenin
I try to say goodbye and I choke (yeah)
Try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide, its clear
My world crumbles when you are not near
(when you are not near aahh)
Goodbye and I choke (yeah, yeah, yeah)
I try to walk away and I stumble (hey, hey, hey)
Though I try to hide it, its clear (say it lord)
My world crumbles when you are not here
Goodbye and I choke (Im choking)
I try to walk away and I stumbe
Though I try to hide it, its clear
My world crumbles when you are not near
(when you are not near, yeah, yeah yeah)
Yeah, yeah..
1/15/2007
Remont.
Jah, see on see, mida paljud asjad ja ka inimesed vajavad.
Asjadega on muidugi lihtne - paned uue krohvi peale, võibolla vahetad tapeedi välja, mõnikord peab ka midagi lõhkuma, et parandused parema al(g)use saaks. Kindlasti tuleb millestki loobuda, aga teadmine, et asemele saab uus ja parem, teeb kõik kergemaks. Ja nii käibki.
Mitte inimestega though, neil käib asi teisiti. Halvad ja vanad omadused on ometigi liiga visad kaduma. Käitumismallid. Mõtlemine. Eelarvamused. Hirm. See on see, mis püsib, remondita. Ja sellest hoitakse kümne küünega kinni.
Ammusest ajast kummitab üks aforism: "Täiuslikkus saavutatakse, mitte kui pole enam midagi lisada, vaid kui pole enam midagi ära võtta". Kui kohutav! Loobuda kõigest täiuslikkuse nimel? Pigem ahmime kõike, mis käeulatuses on. Peaksime rohkem ära andma, elama. Aga see on inimloomusega vastuolus ja nii läheme täpselt samamoodi edasi, et mitte öelda - tagasi.
Ja kes olen mina seda rääkimaks? Kes oled sina seda lugemaks? Kas ma üldse olen? Ja sina?
Me oleme ära hirmutatud. Kardame muutuda. Kardan. Kardad. Ja üldse, meie hirmud on eneselegi märkamatult nii suured, et kaob inimlikkus, nagu ütleb Bertrand Russell: 'Neither a man nor a crowd nor a nation can be trusted to act humanely or to think sanely under the influence of a great fear.'
Ja Hirm elab edasi ka peale meid, kui remonti ei tehta.
1/03/2007
It's all in our heads.
Meist jäi päiksest
närit' pilvede ja
vihmast liiga halli
hämarduva õhtu sisse
õhku palju pilvi
(suitsetame igavusest,
või kuna teadjad
lihtsalt teevad nii)
pahvakuid ja klirinat
ent tassidel on ikka
kõrvad küljes
põhjas kohvitilk,
elule üks liiga
selge pilk...
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