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

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"

martes, 1 de agosto de 2017

Oh night... if, again

Oh night, my ever faithful friend, thou commest with thy bewitchery and thine promises to me and thou expectest nothing save for my memories and longings. Yet 'tis a fair trade...

Waxing moon, silence, darkwave synth sounding, imagining, warm yet not scorching, on my own, yet not really alone, pondering...
Lately there seems to be more input that sort of pushes me toward reprising my earlier endeavors, such as writing, and playing an instrument. Although much has been lost these years since the great change, hope still remains strong.
And hope is something I've been thinking about for a long time now: what is hope? Not so long ago I defined hope as "strange word that is trying to sell me a non-existing future". But what if.... ah yes... me and my "ifs"... What if hope is something that is multilayered, with hundreds of faces, hundreds of corners,... what if hope isn't something fixed but what we ourselves create in order to help us overcome the worst kinds of fears and maybe start walking?
What if hope is an ever wavering state of mind in which we cling to the idea of a given type of success, even though this might be against all odds?

Well, following this stream of thought, I realized something... The types of hope I have had throughout my life so far, and how these have changed over time.
I used to have hopeless hope, the typical "everything will be alright, it will be dreamlike" kind, then went to the "I was wrong the first time, this time it's the real deal" kind, then to the "if I do this, this will definitely work" kind... by the way, don't look for any particular areas in which to apply these positions, I had used for those types of hope in all wakes of life.
What then, when crashing one time, and then another, and then another, like an endless succession of waves crashing against the sand before returning back to mother sea for more water-on-sand violence? Was I supposed to loose all hope? Am I then to give up and accept the dull grey "pass-through-the-world-do-not-alter-it" kind of existence?
Well, at this point there are, I guess, two ways of trying to interpret reality: either you go with the "this world is shit, there is no hope" position, or, my current favorite, "what the hell? let's live through this to the fullest, as if no bad things had ever happened".
"Why?" you might ask... "why not?" I reply.

We are always so afraid of things going the wrong way, of how many bad turns there are to take, of how many betrayals we might encounter along the way, of how many people might disappoint us, of how may issues will remain unresolved, of how many grudges will spawn...
And then I say, what if against all odds this is it (if there is such a thing as an it), what if there are no bad turns but merely a few rough jerks to the steering wheel; what if there are no betrayals because or own actions and thoughts make them impossible for other people to do; what if all new issues are resolved on the spot, what if no grudges spawn at all because we dare embrace life to the fullest, even though we know we all have an expiration date... what if we just dare to fear Fear itself, as it is the bravest thing one can do.
What if we try to look at life once more through the eyes of the child we, at some point, held under lock and key because our society ordered us to; what if we step aside from the grey being we are expected to be and to become, and we dare to risk each and every last of our breaths to enjoying even the tiniest bit of life itself until our unwanted doom... and what if we then dare to call this hope.

This I gift you with.

"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race, and the human race is filled with passion. Medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for."

Robin Williams Dead Poets Society

sábado, 29 de julio de 2017

Uncommon... reflecting

I've spent the last 30 minutes in front of my screen wondering what it is I feel the need to belch upon this world today... The only conclusion I've reached is that, instead of doing automatic writing as I always do, I'll give everything a thought before writing it down and the I'll be re-reading it. I know this is not like me, but hey, I don't think it'll hurt this once. Still, don't get any ideas of me writing regularly here, that ain't happening any time soon.

I was listening to a YouTube selection of Synthwave and RetroElectro music which clearly had a distinct 80-esque ring to it. As I was listening, I went to Wikipedia (haters com at me if you dare!) and looked synthwave up. I was surprised to see, beyond the description of how the style appeared and a bit of history, a list of bands the first one cited being Depeche Mode. Now, I've never had any interested in them or their work, but as I linked concepts in my mind, I recalled the first time I had ever heard about Depeche Mode: it was in a Spanish pop FanMag called SuperPop (I think it still exists), I swear I was unable to know whether that was an English or French name, and had absolutely no idea how to pronounce it. But the idea I got from them was that they were just another one of these commercial successes happening in pop music and nothing beyond that. How could I have known they be this long lasting?
Back to the thing... I suddenly felt a... let's just say curiosity about how they do indeed sound: if I like modern synthwave that sounds like 80's synthwave, maybe I could end up liking that as well. It's been surprising, and what is even more amazing, a few of the tunes off thir first album I had already heard sometime somewhere, maybe ask a kid even...

The sun is no longer shining with it's scorching might but is slowly letting the night take over. And this eases my thinking.

It was a good night, I was reacquainted with people I had seen, in some cases, in ten years. And although we've changed, we were still able to recognize each other and to know exactly when and where we had met. It was a series of happy, and fortunate incidents, that lead to enjoying 6 year-old spicy German mead, to conversations with an ex's ex who is a far nicer guy than I ever though or even wanted to accept, late night sword play in the street, and of course a long list of anecdotes from the past...
Some of us are getting older, others like me not really, but still, when we meet, our inner kids come out and call for our help in not hiding them under lock and key. I had to experience the old-time "no, you can't come in dressed like that" and for once in my life I was happy about it, the guy was shit-scared about my looks, pretty normal I may add (cargo pants, sneakers, sleeveless metal band t-shirt and of course upper arm tattoos, and my long hair flowing surrounding my beard)...

Today I still had bit of green in my hair, something stuck with me all through the night, from park I was lucky enough to sit in for a while, under the greenish shade of a tree, just...being.
... and I smiled to myself...

viernes, 28 de julio de 2017

All cards in

My beloved unfaithful followers, as I am your unfaithful writer, here I stand, once more before you naked in my own self, pouring out my emotional entrails.

"Jatta, jatta, jatta, give us some juice!" Maybe some of you might be thinking...

Well, 2017 is becoming an outstanding year. Hey, don't fret! It is!
I've spent some time already remembering days long gone, how I met my friends, how I suffered to evolved to the self-righteous meaningless being I am today.

Well, first off, I'm content. Content but not in the manner you are all thinking of as some sort of nerdy little prick content with a new deck of D&D cards hiding in his parents' basement.
I analyze, and overanalyze (some I know would agree), about how I've led my life. Mistakes? Many made, many more to go. For starters, it is the first time I'm writing from my own bedroom computer since 2009. Why, because I couldn't keep silent any more, because if I have to write, I'll do so on my own terms, when I need it, not when my conditions are "appropriate". You might even say I'm impulsive. And I like that thought. ;)

Aaaaanyway... I've spent a few months reviewing the evolution of my musical tastes, listening to my old high-school mix-cds (yeah, I might be old, but not old enough to keep on saying mixtapes. Up yours). And of course, as some of you might already know or be thinking, this triggered both my shallowest and deepest memories. I've gone back to places I thought I'd never see again. And these thoughts I was fortunate enough to have someone around me to share them with someone at a given point.
I like how I have gone from a guy with low self esteem more than 15 years ago, to a guy who knows what he likes and wants (at least every once in a while), a guy who is so clear toward himself that whatever the results of a certain action, he always accepts the outcome as his own responsibility, even if it is not that what he was hoping for...
You know me for my late night ramblings after a few cigarettes and some booze, but this is different, this time I have not been trying to temporarily escape my own blocks. I do miss the ritual though...

I've seen myself 15 years ago, I've seen my friends, I have felt once more the old teenage angst, the old teenage awe toward the world and the fear that went with it. And I am so grateful for my memory and how these chances have helped me evolve. My colleague once told that I am able to look at the past in a manner so clear she envies it sometimes. But yes, I do remember that day.
I'm not getting older, well, maybe physically, but not mentally,. I'm getting riper, I ponder, I analyze, I look, and I get to see beauty in places I had never expected before. I'm no longer that pessimist. I believe in my future, even if it don't shine bright. It is mine, it will be mine, and the best I can have in it is my determination, whatever may come.


I've felt once more like the 20-year-old I used to be, I enjoy music once more as I did back then, I do the same stupid shit I did back then when listening to this same music, I even end up signing and dancing at work. I'm content, and I am happy. And then I find hope, but not spiritual, not in the gods nor the rituals, but through someone where my happiness can shine upon. I never asked for this gift, however long or short this may last, and my yearly highlight has already been met, found and it was sublime.

Some might argue I am suffering from Peter Pan's syndrome. Fuck you, or not. If I am, then this life is better than the one I had before.
It is amazing what you can achieve with a sincere smile and nice words to people. I might be the greatest asshole in the planet, but every night I manage to go to sleep knowing I did some good to someone to some extent. I'm happy, I'm content. Laughter I have brought, but not because I needed to see it but because I felt fortunate enough to be willing to share both my humor and my life energy in a given context in which I never required any reciprocity.

I could go on and on about this but my future me would kill me when reading this. The www does not need my happiness neither to thrive nor to exist. But some lost dark soul might be out there and maybe this endeavor of mine shall be complete by that person ending up here. after all, all what you are seeing is that part of me which I freely chose to gift you with.

Whatever may come, today I have had a smile upon my face, and everytime I look back, I see those intrigued and yet hungry eyes, looking at me with a sort of devotion and curiosity I was no longer able to conceive beyond my imagination in recent years.

One more thing will be said, and "then there was silence"

miércoles, 25 de enero de 2017

Enter 2017, stage left

Slightly over a month since my last derailing into this blog, and things have taken not one but a few more turns... some good, some not so good... as always.

In exactly one year, I have gone from having 4 grandparents to only 1. January 1, Mid May, January 1... It can be said loss can be easily coped with when you get older, but some people leave a mark on you so deep a drill couldn't get to it.

I've been meaning to write, as I began doing again this Summer. It seems I even have a ritual, writing 70km from home, always at night and with something to drink, and smoke. Yup, that thing I should start quitting... I know...
As I was saying, I had been meaning to write just as I had already finished my previous post... but something kept holding me back, and it wasn't procrastination... it was as if I wasn't supposed to, as if I had to give myself time settle my thought down and let whatever I was feeling drain out before leaving it here.

But ah, cruel fates that have a tendency to complicate things, this time you've done a good job I must say...

In December I actually started procrastinating, sort of like began to live again the life of a 20-year-old, except that I was working longer hours than I did back then. But I was going out every single day of the week, even if it meant a few drinks on the street instead of in a bar or pub or club or whatever you picture in your minds. And for the first time in like... ages, I felt happier, not because I got shit faced pretty often, which I did, of course; but because I was sort of letting go of my self-imposed leash of proper behavior.
Then came Christmas, or Yuletide, or Saturnalia, or whatever you like to call it.
And then along came a strange situation which has made me rethink some of my preferences and mid term goals, soort of adapt them. I know there is quite a chance of getting my head chopped off even... but I think the end goal, if the other players are willing, is well worth taking the risk. Just need to mention that nobody expected the Spanish Inquisition (may those who know understand).

But my friends, that was Sunday when I wrote. And today I've felt a twist inside, and have seen rage in myself like I had not seen in quite a while. I'm sick and tired of neutrality and pretended normality, I creave blood, I no longer wish for justice, for justice is not coming. And there are people saying they just want to be OK... well OK comes with a price, and if the penance is for being true, then the liars are to perish and fall, and we need to rejoice because of their demise.

I am angry, and saddened, and I have hope in me, and yet I refuse to believe it fully for the messages seem to vary. I want blood, that of others, spilt.

"Let me die without fear!
As I have lived without it
So shut your mouth and spare my ears
I'm fed up with all your bullshit"

lunes, 19 de diciembre de 2016

U-do or maybe not

Today I feel like writing again, maybe it's the weather that's helping: it's cold and rainy, and meesa like that.

I've had a flashback that took me back to 2005, to Udo. I hadn't thought of him in a while, 11 years... poor guy, he was nice, he was real... I've had a few flashing memories treading on that path and I've remembered that beautiful red-haired girl, can't recall her name though it was probably sometihing like Sabine (sounds right I think). For a while I have been thinking (whenever I got to thinking about this) that I fucked up pretty good chances of having long lasting friends on the other end of this beautiful yet everdying continent. But more recently I've come to realize that maybe I didn't strive to keep them close because I didn't feel they were right for me. Maybe they were just supposed to be the railing you cling on to when you lose your step... They are gone, but they'll never be really gone for me, even now they are a part of me, of myself back then.

Okay, brief news: this weekend I felt really adult, but in a really good and cool sense, neither paternalistic nor patrozing. I was asked, I replied, I said I wouldn't mind, I really didn't mind, and I felt good for realizing that I've grown. And I was happy.

And today, browsing through facebook, utterly physically destroyed, I came upon a video of a friend of mine singing Hurt by Johnny Cash, and I liked it. And I remembered the funny way in which I met her, and how for a while I had phantasized about what kissing her would be like, what hearing her play for me would be like... And then suddenly I felt the urge to play the guitar and sing. It came over me like a claw in the dark, I had to play and sing, it was just what I needed to lift my spirits up. Picked up the guitar, looked for the chords and the lyrics and began playing. and my spirits rose, first singing coarsly, then singing mildly, but firm. My fingers remembered the old metal skin embalming the strings, that raw and sharp pressure upon the tips, the way the hand gripped tightly yet seemd to flow in a succession of movements that I didn't even require me to need to look at the frets to check whether I was playing right. And I was happy.

Today I remembered something some wise person once told me: happiness is not a state one can achieve. Happiness is a succession of tiny little events that take place in your life that give you a stroke of sudden bliss without any need for justification.
And then I was happy again. 

sábado, 17 de diciembre de 2016

A trip down memory lane

Slightly over a month since my last entry. I think I'm even getting good at this.

The thing is that these last few days have been weird, but not in a good sense but rather in a werid sense, that is, these las few days have been weird weird.
Now you're gonna wonder (or not... well then, fuck off) what was it it all about right?

Well, news is a dark blow was dealt on my kin, but we've endured, although now _I feel time pressing...
After a few talks I've decided to give in to mumbo jumbo, mostly for research purposes... and according to the signs, I was doomed from day one in many cases...

Anyhow, I've been moody lately... I've been pondering on my past, not so recent past, like 10 years back in the past and shit... even farther... I can't really make sense of it all, but I know it in my heart that this is not gratuitous: whichever forces may be ruling this universe (yeah, yeah, I'm a pagan polytheist, get over it) they are pointing me towards my past in order to see something I missed 10 years back. But what the hell is it??

This last month I have experienced some feelings, at some point even troubling ones, that I had not felt in a very, very long time. I know it was sort of a dellusion, but just like when an ex-junkie gets his fix and everything comes rushing in, flooding his mind, the same happened to me. To no avail I must say... But the fix was good enough to get me going again.
I know people who would be balancing the facts and words I've spoken out and they'd say I've missed not one but 100 chances to earn a victory, but it wasn't that sort of victory I prayed for.
And that was the beginning of it all: so many memories from the time when I was studying German... a back alley, a red-lit bar with soothing music, cold hands, German words... a strawl, a song... silence... why do you haunt me now? Be gone, older self, you know I'm better... But what is dead may never die...

Just as I decided to close a rather short chapter in my life (truly short) I realize a new one openend before me, almost in the same manner I envisioned I would like. I didn't ask the gods for a thing, but they've provided chances again, maybe because I dared risk everything, after a fashion. I know what I see, what I hear, what I read.

This battle I may lose, but I fear defeat not, for out of defeat, out of death I spawned like a Phoenix a hundred times, and I can only embrace new chance... and make sure that if I fall, I shake the very ground with my pain, should there be any in store in me.

I have felt the sting, and that clear venomous beverage I wish to drink till it burns me through or untill the scorpion lies motionless, its sting void of poison.

Gods, grant me chances.

"Når eg på Helvegen går
og dei spora eg trår er kalda, så kalda"