en en en en en en en is en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en de en de en en en en en en en en en en en de en en en en en de en de en en en de en en en en en cs en en en nl en en en en en en is en is is en en is en en en cs en en en en fi en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en fi en is is is is is is en en en en en es en en en en en en pl en en en en fr en fr en en sv fr de de fr fr fr sv en fr en ja fr de fr es nb fr de en en sv de de fr en fr it fr en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en en so
April | 2007 | Animals & Feelings
I think alot. I think all the time – it’s not trivial or half-thoughts, the kind of thoughts you hardly hear.
Today when I took the bus this morning I saw Sacha, as it often happens. I was listening to Volta, letting it grow.
The conversation went in different directions. But that conversation enlightened me greatly. I understood why I adore Birna, love Sacha and like Leo. I understood the nature of our relationship, the dynamics of my affection, of my desires.
I only love the people who reject me – because then I can want them better, when I am alone – I can want them better when I do not have them yet. I desire them in my own privacy, intimacy, loneliness.
Birna rejects me, she always has. But when she accepts me, these brief moments when I can see it in the way her eyelids unite at the end of her eyes, the way she lets me in. The way I feel with Sacha sometimes, when she shows me what I could get – but I’m conscious I don’t have it, and never have. Leo does the same.
I cannot accept someone into me if the person wants me, shows a desire towards me. I jerk out of it, I let it glid off of me, or I get mean, cold, I draw out my sharpest words.
Right there in the metro, when I understood that – I felt like crying. It’s disgusting to be like me, to play this game – to seduce people because I know I can. Litterally all of my friends, except Alixe, have talked with their mouth closed, open, in the shape of mine.
I was shocked, hurt, paralyzed, meters under the sea, holding hands.
I desire only what I cannot have, and reject what I-.
I can only love those who don’t love me. I seduce people, rape them under my breath.
And I know why. Freud does too.
Passions leaving me – the ideas are not confused, but they are not gone yet.
I know what I will get tattooed.
I am leaving this harbour,
Giving urban a farewell.
Its habitants seem too keen on God
I cannot stomach their rights and wrong.
I have lost my origin,
And I don’t want to find it again
Rather sailing into nature’s laws
And be held by ocean’s paws
Peel off the layers until you get to the core.
Did i imagine it would be like this?
Was it something like this i wished for,
Or will i want more?
Lust for comfort suffocates the soul
I feel at home whenever
The unknown surrounds me.
I receive its embrace
Aboard my floating home.
Peel off the layers until you get to the cor.e
Did I imagine it would be like this?
Was it something like this I wished for,
Or will I want more?
From island to island.
I enjoy it with you
Can you spot a pattern?
Posted on April 30, 2007 | Leave a comment
Some branches should never bend.
Otherwise leaves will leak down in disease and weakness.
Posted on April 29, 2007 | Leave a comment
Ég er búinn að fá Volta sem lak.
Ég er eins og lítill krakki á aðfangadagskvöld.
Posted on April 26, 2007 | Leave a comment
There is nothing more fascinating and beautiful than Icelandic, except Iceland itself.
I love the words. They have such beautiful words.
Spræna, vætla, lognpolli, ker, gjá, ymja (umdi!), gufa, gelta, gutla, tætla, þjall, tær, kjarr, kurr, kyrr, kyrrð, fyrrð, híma, una, tína, amast við, mara, marra, óma, orga, hrafl, hrafn, höfn, röfl, muml, ruml, krauma, ískra, skrækja, skella, fjör, smjör, rör, hrapa, hrasa, hrópa, hrönn.
I love Icelandic. It’s the most beautiful language in the world – it’s so precise, it’s so acute, it’s so sensitive, it’s so natural, windy and rough.
Icelandic sounds like Icelandic landscapes.
Koko olemassaolon ainoa halu.
Posted on April 26, 2007 | Leave a comment
What is life, nature. How come everything that exists has a will, comon to every other thing that exists, uniting the whole of things in itself. This will of surviving, living on, which is present in every single piece of existance, which is exterior to everything, because it is everywhere. What is it, how come this common element lives through us without our knowing – is it a being? It is a being, it is the only being, the only thing that be. Why, if I sit in the grass and look at the trees, the grass and the minerals, we all have something living within us – I feel the same envie as a tree, rushing out from my throat, melting through my legs into the grass.
I understand religion. Why does everything exist with the only aim to exist more, exist further on. This is not even related to my unity, to my person – because ego, me, my person, wants this through every one – I live on in everyone. The human race is one thing, with a common will, a common aim – and this same person, the humance race, is part of the animals and the cells and the minerals. And this is nature, the whole of existance, alpha and omega, god, life and death.
And in me there are billions of millions of tens of billions of cells all living independently but in symbiose with all the same aim to survive, and these are composed of small things turning fast enough, composed of smaller things.
Do things ever end to seprate into smaller parts? The smallest part will be the sense of existance, it will know why it wants to survive because it will be itself and nothing smaller, under.
As much as they separate into smaller parts, if these end, then things also one day stop to unite, there is an end to unity, when only one thing remains and that is the whole of existance, and that is self and this knows the sense of existance because outside of it exists nothing.
And of course by naming nothing we give it a sense, and it starts to exists – nothing is the absence of anything. It still is something.
This is what life is – we are cells of organisms making the organs and skin and nails of nature, a being made to survive. I might be right under the lungs, serving in the cartiladge of life, holding the lungs of life breathing.
Things that you don’t have to.
Posted on April 25, 2007 | Leave a comment
Today, during my final written French exam, which I couldn’t tell whether it went well or not, I had a thought. I realized that there seems to be a very complex and still mysterious system in my head. The system which gives things importance, the level of importance of certain things. I don’t know how things get to the top, but it’s a very elitist place up there.
I’d like to draw it.
On Friday I’ll go to Concordia and choose my classes for the next year I guess. I’m very excited, somehow, now that I know I can get rid of Arabic Studies, which in no way interested me.
David cross is funny.
Posted on April 24, 2007 | Leave a comment
Það er sumt fólk sem ég sakna þótt ég hafi aldrei kynnst því lengi eða vel. Herr Schaper er einn þeirra sem ég sakna. Hann var þýskukennarinn minn í Dawson. Ég skrifaði honum vefpóst áðan og það rann upp fyrir mér hve lengi það er búið að vera síðan að ég talaði við hann. Sá maður er sennilegast einn áhrifamesti kennari sem ég hef kynnst. Ég vildi svo að ég þekkti hann betur.
Þessi vika er búin að vera atburðarík, held ég. Eða það er kannski bara mikið um að vera og ég hef ekki mikinn tíma. Ég lærði líka að kunningi minn og Birnu, og vinkona sinn, ætla til Íslands í maí, og ætla að gista hjá Birnu. Þetta truflar mig svolítið, vegna þess að Birna viðurkenndi mér að fjölskydunni hafi fundist það erfitt að hafa mig hjá þeim, vegna mikillar sjálfsvorkunar minnar, sem ég einhvern veginn sökk í þar. Líka vegna þess, hve vanþakklátt sumt fólk kann að vera – þessar gellur þurfa sennilegast ekki að borga fyrir neitt. Þær búa í stóru gljáandi húsum, foreldrar vinna fjóra daga í viku, hafa efni á glænýjum bílum, ferðum til útlanda um jólin, eiga í engu basli.
Svona ástönd skaprauna mér talsvert mikið – ég er fastur hér, ég á ekki völ á því. Þetta snýst allt bara um fé.
Ég er að mygla og fjarlægjast markmiðið, á meðan reyk og sýru leggur um húsið, og örvætingar yfir draum minn.
Ég ætti að halda áfram að lesa – Stórt frönskupróf á morgun. Þau stressa mig virkilega.
Snl vine.co/v/b3ZAAAjHXVK 5 years ago
Place des arts/summmmmmmmmmmmer vine.co/v/bYbHEngt3zb 5 years ago
Summerdad vine.co/v/bVUrJLBuUUP 5 years ago
Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.
Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy