martes, 10 de octubre de 2017

Some and counting...

It's been a while, I know,but I've been meaning to write for several days and somehow the time wasn't right, neither were the circumstances...

Where should I start... I have no goddamed idea, to be honest...

Maybe I'll get back a few days and see again some beautiful times out of impulsiveness, where mountain and tree and dried out heather reigned, with molten chocolate smiles, and candid embraces in the night followed by nightmarish boxes falling...
And most recently, a grand gift was made and given to me, but such was its grandeur I could not hold it within my chest. I know what I heard and saw and felt, and it was beyond my expectations, beyond any thought, it just surpassed my outer barriers, my defenses, and left me like a torn out rag on a muddy street in late winter. Such was its power... but I know what it meant, I heard what it cried, I licked what it had to offer, and I tasted that serene bitterness, that pungent sweet and sharp melody...
Still it haunts me...

And so the days passed and I found myself in yet a position ever stranger to me... I remembered
Ensiferum's "The Wanderer", and the tune crept back into my head, brushing against my dried out memories, seeking out a new pole on which to stand, and so it did... And I found myself pondering about solitude, but not in a negative sense, just thinking about it, nothing fancy, just feeling I wanted almost no soul around me at that particular time and place, though part of me was elsewhere and I had to surrender to the evidence. I travel the night seeking such a place and found it beyond the witching hour when I found my solace listening to music. And then cam Jeff Buckley with his sound... and I broke down... his music, ever haunting, was so powerful his sound could pass through armored concrete as if it were butter under the summer sun...  and it pierced me through...

Then a day passed and a new musical project began, the fingers remembered their old strengths and weaknesses, I began to feel letting go, I began to feel the roar... once, so far...

And today has been a day of bitter and sweet tastes, with lights and shades, many more than anticipated...
Good old karma came a-knockin'... but then came back for some revenge. My brain was depleted from too much working... Calls and thoughts, and thoughts and silence... again a stranger in my eyes, or is it to my eyes? so late I dare not to care, not today... Sometimes silence is loudest...
But I also had a nice chat with a friend, about relationships, and things we dislike, and that which we find beautiful in one, and how haste kills them all... but fortune willed it that I find yet another thing that I add to my understanding-pending list... maybe it means nothing, but I know nothing means a lot, except I do not know what... not yet anyway... I just hope for a night with no nightmares, for solace in my own fantasies, for memory and fantasy are mine and mine alone... even it my whole world crumbles down...

'Tis so precious this gift, 'tis so strong and frail, but it is... and I'd not change it for another 1000 years of life... I just wish you are ok, you are missed...

I fade out...



lunes, 25 de septiembre de 2017

Nachdennklich

Nachdennklich. Druck. Feuer. Druck. Zweifel. Vermutung. Stille. Los.

So much to say, yet so little that I wish to share for the world does not deserve much of what I could ever saying.
But waking up it's a difficult job, realizing the peace of sleep is gone and now, as the sun shines, my brain is back again to give me a hard time. I wish myself a brain stopper yet I know they do not work.
One hour rolling on top of an unwanted mattress, trying to remain in an uncomfortable sleep trying to prevent that moment from coming... but the day marches on against my will.


Trying to understand yet trying not to, a paradoxical fight between of two halves of a single brain, wondering why the need for work, for time without using the brain. Maybe I should start getting loads of things to do, it seems to be my kick.

No paths are trod twice, the plants grow ever different.
At least yesterday's sweat was genuine, as true as my voice was...

Maybe this is my escape valve...


Feuer. Druck.


(Random songs that sound in the night)
Vreid - Empty


"A writer out of loneliness is trying to communicate like a distant star sending signals. He isn't telling, or teaching, or ordering. Rather, he seeks to establish a relationship with meaning, of feeling, of observing. We are lonesome animals. We spend all our live trying to be less lonesome. And one of our ancient methods is to tell a story, begging the listener to say, and to feel, "Yes, that's the way it is, or at least that's the way I feel it. You're not as alone as you thought." To finish is sadness to a writer, a little death. He puts the last word down and it is done. But it isn't really done. The story goes on and leaves the writer behind, for no story is ever done." 
John Steinbeck

sábado, 9 de septiembre de 2017

Oxymoron, not ox moron

Yet again before an empty digital canvas, but not to pour my heart out, just to share some random thoughts.

The first time I heard the word oxymoron, why by the way I find is a beautiful word and has a beautiful effect on language, was in a movie starring an almost unknown wannabe rapper called Mark Wahlberg. There I heard the word oxymoron, and an example: Thunderous silence. Such a beautiful composition, sometimes so appealing to myself, more often than not.

Anyway, the topic today is PhD. Yes, I'm currently doing my PhD research, but the path neither is nor has it been easy so far. I always thought PhD students had a tendency to exaggerate difficulties they were having... and then I found that exaggeration is actually not a good description of the roaring thunderstorm you experience, with ups and downs as if in a brake-less roller coaster car about to skip the tracks and fly off into its doom. I had not been very motivated at some points in time, and in a way I'm still getting my act together... But good thing is that I have found a partner in crime who is a great inspiration regarding this line of work, and this is both rare and nice to find, especially for a lone wolf such as myself when it comes to academic stuff, of which  I'm highly critical.
Inspiration is always found in the least likely places, with the least likely company. And it is good.

Rain today, and then tonight rain comes again, and under cover of darkness and with few comrades we shall wave the night of and the beginning of a new chapter in life.


I had heard many times the expression "Karma is a bitch", but over time, I'm changing my standing point and maybe karma is not a bitch after all but a fluffy nice female ever-playful puppy filled with hope and good thoughts. Too positive today methinks. Anyway, karma just is, we interpret from it what we wish to interpret, and I take the good side, for there is enough of the bad side in the world to be sticking to that one.
Good thing melancholy fits don't last long, especially when ears and counsel are offered in order to climb out of the pit...

Now, I wanted to say much more, but I don't think I will...

As I was having my zig break, I saw flashes of light covering the sky, a storm is coming. And I was amazed by the colors and shapes lightning created in the sky, showing the beautiful clouds lit from behind, as in one of John Howe's illustrations of Morgoth and the days of Gondolin.

Ah, who could be a worthy Beren to fair Luthien...


Good night my beloved travelers in the dark, may your paths shine every once in a while.



Tonight's feature: "Turning Circles" by Judas Priest
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZWPcpguSlkE

jueves, 7 de septiembre de 2017

Fucking trips down memory lane

As I was saying, fucking trips down memory lane.

You've heard (read me) rant about my past, and me liking to analyze that past and thinking about it and trying to make the best out of past deeds and mistakes and successes. However one thing is pulling out blurry images from a dusty hard drive called brain and a different one is finding something completely unexpected fucking cross your path while listening to something completely unrelated, and the your fucking brain makes the goddammed connection, and it so happens it's raining at the same time, and I do love rain, and what it brings.

Fucking 2 minute bubble bursts.
And it all began because I was watching 12 year old webcam videos of myself, made for myself as well, either singing or playing the bass or guitar.
And then I saw "younger videos"... still playing, different appearance though.
Naivity dead, hope forlorn, and I didn't remember that much pain.
But if there is something I can really do good is read myself... I was in fucking agony and I didn't even know... 2-minute bubble-burst, and it came back for an instant, how the hell did I manage to move forward??

"I stay still and changes pass me by(...) I'm the bitter in your sweet"
... I did come out with that... 


There is still so much I do NOT understand of either this world or myself...
I guess fear is sometimes necessary in order for us to be reminded of our own vulnerabilities and that of those people we encounter, meet, relate to and have relationships with...


I guess I'm tender... so here's a steak

sábado, 2 de septiembre de 2017

Dream on, but keep on rememberin'

Ah my sweeties, again with my beloved ritual, booze and smokes so I connect to my inner deranged me. And Oh Boi! Was I in for a surprise today.

The thing is, I was giving a thorough thought to the idea of writing about dreams, as it is something I had been speaking about lately, and I even had some to tell and some ideas of my own regarding dreams and the like (yup, illusions and mirages count)... however I found myself browsing through the folders of my computer and... no, you naughty bastards, I did not fins that forgotten, well-hidden folder full of porn... actually what I found was way better... to some extent at least: I found old files that had been in my computers since as early as 1998, most of them dating from 2000 onwards... yes, almost 20-year-old files. That was a shocker... and all the way Def Leppard was the soundtrack...

Well, I won't go into much detail because the internet does not need it, but I found out that I used to save the e-mails I sent into Word files so they wouldn't be erased from the "sent" folder of my older e-mail addresses (I don't seem to be able to recall any e-mail addresses I had prior to 2005, although I had had, at least something around 4 different ones).
The thing is, I have re-read those e-mails... geez I was one needy kid sometimes , but some things I wrote did shock me... one of them was back in 2004 talking to an older German acquaintance of mine with whom I lost all contact and links as time went by, the person I first started talking in German with on a daily basis... to keep the story simple, I was trying to figure out or guess what my life would be like in 2014, that is 10 years from 2004. I actually got nothing right, not even close... not even where I'd be living... but I found out that I already knew that if I had a child, what I'd like his name to be... and I thought this was a rather recent idea, it turns out it's been there for years stored in a one-way alley in my hard-drive of a brain. Maybe the core never changes much and only the crust is what we modify over time...

Beyond this particular point of interest, other texts were found, all written by me... At some point I even thought "hey, this guy can write", and then I went like "oh, wait, this guy is/was me, holy shit". It's been nice.

Finally the winds of time, finally a slight change in the weather comes, and in my briefs I feel a chill, goosebumps up my skin. I'm glad winter is coming, slowly, but undeterred. So looking forward to being a human heater, so looking forward to the cold days.

A few moments ago I was thinking to myself "My 34th year in this planet has been rather interesting, especially the last month, I'm positive about my 35th" and I've just watched the clock and today I take a step further in my ageing while enjoying a glass of the wine I last drank while skinny dipping in a rocky beach about 100 or 150 miles from here.

I'd say so much more, but I've decided this will suffice for today. The older I get the clearer I see that although bits and pieces of my life and thoughts may be left here for posterity, I want to keep most to myself and to/with the people I live and experience things with, beside my own solitary endeavors.

Because the night is dark and full of promises...




Def Leppard's "Women"

"He was born with a passion, love and hate
A restless spirit with a need for a mate
But there was somethin' that was missin', somethin' lost
So he came with the answer, here's what it cost"

domingo, 27 de agosto de 2017

Kintsukuroi - In the land of dreams

My beloved readers, again I stand here before you who are - maybe- eager to hear from me.
It's been a while and much has happened, mostly unexpected.

I left for France with a happy heart and little sleep, a sweet sacrifice in the night I would not dare change. Great steps were taken while Wallace's legend became a noteworthy part. So much joy and beauty.

We left for Marle to live and feel like barbarians among Romans, to enjoy the hard weather of the Ardennes. The trip was hard, but nice. And then came the news of an outrageous deed. Many have already heard of the heinous acts committed in my home town. Disbelief, rage, utter impotence, and fear, but not fear of death, but fear of loss. Thank the gods none known to me were lost that fatal day, but I did fear loss as never before, and I wept when news came, I wept out of joy and previous fear.
Then the rain came, and it cleansed us, it calmed us, and we spent the night in a camp of wolves sharing mead, joy and new-found friendship. And we were identified as barbarians.

We spent several days, among half-muddied fields, near a Merovingian village, surrounded by greatness of the past, Roman and Barbarian united. I got to see some of my heroes as well, like a fangirl I was all giggly and shy and proud and merry. Such beautiful people, such good vibes.
We trained for battle, we changed sides, we laughed, and ate and drank. And at night, by the fire, staring into the endless skies, the Roman vexilla glowed with the ember color of the peaceful flames before an infinite starry background. And I felt pride in this, the present past. Then a sage did speak, and part of my fate was read, truths from my own self were told, yet I uttered no word, but those eyes did see beyond. And an uncommon relief took over.
Songs of old were sung, and there was much merriment, and the stars brought thoughts in the distance that turned to smiles and wishes, and surprising yet positive realizations.
More people were met and introduced, great conversations with great individuals and excellent reenactment porn I was able to enjoy visually and digitally.
Those were good days!

High hopes on the road back led us to Alessia before taking back to the road. Words, thoughts, plans and deep conversations. Miles and miles that ended up leading me to a lost town were stars were seen again in an unexpected embrace.
A spiritual travel, revelations, raging beast awoken, but mellowed down to a whisper of foundation and joy. I smile.

You know I like being enigmatic, but poetry is returning to me, I wish to sing in images that I can always recall. My ramblings have mellowed down a little, but much is on my mind. However, the ever faithful Amon Amarth accompany me in these night trips to the corners of my mind.
Much negativity has been surrounding me and those close to me, but I defy and fight against fully sinking in. I wish myself positive, looking at the present and at the future, taking my fortune to spread so others may smile as well.

In regard to the previous sentence, I recently read about love. But not as in a romantic love, but love in all its potential. Love, real love, is or might be born from pain, not build on top of it. Loss, betrayal, pain are the foundations from which love must spring. Only then can we truly be happy and share this happiness with others. And it made so much sense to me.
I need to point out that I love Kintsukuroi, the Japanese art of fixing poetry with gold or silver-filled enamel which makes it unique and takes a part of you within. I know what I have fixed, and do not know its shape, but it goes "thump, thump" every once in a while. And I'm happy for it.


I leave you today with 3 gifts:

One is a beautiful sentence from a short video about judging too prematurely:
"A single act of caring creates an endless ripple"

The second one is an excerpt of a play by Shakespeare which I have always believed truly beautiful.
(Two Gentlemen of Verona)


"And why not death rather than living torment?

To die is to be banish'd from myself;

And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her

Is self from self: a deadly banishment!

What light is light, if Silvia be not seen?

What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?

Unless it be to think that she is by

And feed upon the shadow of perfection

Except I be by Silvia in the night,

There is no music in the nightingale;

Unless I look on Silvia in the day,

There is no day for me to look upon;

She is my essence, and I leave to be,

If I be not by her fair influence

Foster'd, illumined, cherish'd, kept alive.

I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom:

Tarry I here, I but attend on death:

But, fly I hence, I fly away from life."




And the third one is a simple gift, a gift of a thistle...


lunes, 14 de agosto de 2017

Ic eom anhaga...

I find myself in front of a digital empty canvas after many hours of thinking what I'd be saying here. I even find myself listening to Depeche Mode by some weird device of fate, maybe even simply by chance...

It's been fucking amazing, the metal festival I've been to! I had some of my closest, and oldest friends with me... and the turning wheel of time granted me beautiful moments with them all, in which we were all reminded of our beginnings, of the self-destruction we have undergone among ourselves for several years. And, then, out of the blue, music poured in, and our hearts gladdened, our smiles widened, and we enjoyed each and every last beat, every bar, every note, every stir in the air, there was only music, we were not people, we were part of music. Arkona, Arch Enemy, Sabaton, Blind Guardian, the real Sepultura, Månegarm, Hammerfall, and Amon Amarth among others... Even a song by a Spanish band I had not heard in a long time was played acoustically for our enjoyment... and the lyrics still poured out of me under the blazing sun... Xana

We were all our younger selves again, stupid, naive kids for whom the world was still a place full of excitement, a place were consequences were insignificant. We joined the mosh pits, enjoyed our well begotten wounds, we feasted in the drinking grounds, we rolled in the grass, we showed many how real men fight, we drank to our health, to our friendship, to ourselves, and to the music that bound us long ago.

But of course, we also got shit faced and played the fool every single day... peaches, peaches, peaches in molds...
Those were the best of times, those were the worst of times. ...And it was beautiful, a single crew of the same single ship, sailing against all odds...

I got to see bands I had not seen before, I even went alone at some point just to hear a given band. And yet again music took hold of me, shook me up to my very soul and stirred within. Goosebumps were me. I smiled, my lips trembled, my face tightened, shivers went up and down my spine, everything around vanished, my eyes filled with water... and then I just let go, and I cried. I cried out of joy, I cried out of pain, I cried out of longing, I cried out of beauty and love, I cried out of rage. I cried, and smiled, and felt and let myself go.
I could go on and on, but that feeling is something one must have, it should not be read...

And out of all of this turmoil, another me thought on third, and smiles appeared again. I had forgotten how even the tiniest words can shake the foundations of mountains... and then I stared at the stars and saw fleeting travelers in the sky... and I smiled, alone, and still smiled again...




So many emotions in one single post, a single song won't do, so I leave these last thoughts and then I leave you all, for tonight...

Memorable quote:
"That's when you know you've found somebody really special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably share silence" Q.Tarantino

Tracklist
Arch Enemy "My Apocalypse"
Blind Guardian "The Bard's Song (In the Forest)"
Amon Amarth's "The Way of Vikings"
Arkona "Pokrovy Nebesnogo Startsa"
R.E.M. "Losing My Religion"
Månegarm "Vredens Tid"
Vreid "Helvete"
Avalanch "Xana"
Hammerfall "Dreams Come  True"