Autumn melancholia

Life is never easy for those who dream, those ones with strong emotions, those with a big heart.

Life seems so easy for fools. Beautiful fools. 

I'm lying in bed now, unable to get up. I'm trying to find a reason to get off the bed and stand up on my feet but what awaits me outside my room? The world has gone too far, seen too much, been too harsh.. for me.. and for you too. On the days like these no matter how hard I try I see no motivation to go out there and be a member of a society. All I need is a cup of sweet milky chai, warmth under the covers, my notebook and a pen. I'm satisfied. 

Black Worms

Days when my hair isn’t black enough

Desires developed into open sores

Glass of wine I longed for tastes so rough

Crowded and rowdy are streets and shores.

As for my breakfast, lunch, and dinner

I served myself with the black worms

With no intention of being slimmer

I go through this sick metamorphose.

Piercing my inside they found their way

Blood vessels turned into channels

Worms crawling slowly to my brain

Ever asphyxiating micro devils.

This medicine work as no placebo

Constantly eradicating my appetite

I designed this miserable alter ego

To orbit me like perpetual satellite.

Worms are inside my head like plague

Spreading melancholy I can’t ignore.

Turning everything bright into black

I can not become who I was before.

If dark clouds rise there comes the rain

So begins the war between ego and self

There is no question who’s Abel, who’s Cain

A man always stands vis a vis himself. 

Found what I've been looking for

I hate it when I’m looking for something and I can’t find it.
More especially when that ‘something’ is myself...

Good old Nietzsche said that person’s mental development ends with his or her death. There is no stage where you can say: this is it, I’m complete, I can’t learn any more. And I can’t agree more. There are way too many different stimuli all around for our mind to ignore them, and even the most ignorant person is affected by them. Whether in a good or bad way. If you could record a human mind in a time-lapse it would probably go only two ways: either it would bloom or fade like a flower. There certainly is a flower inside you. Not even a biology textbook could name all the kinds of flora we are made of, nor any binomial nomenclature could label what sort of plant there is in your core. Either a beautiful white lily, pure orchid, passionate rose, a dry succulent, thorny bush, an evergreen, or a wild weed, all these plants have a thing in common: they need to be nourished to grow. When they lack the necessities to survive they decay gradually, until they fade. There is no guide, no tips, no tricks how to take care of your flower. Only you know what it needs. And if you don't happen to know, you need to find out. As soon as possible, because you never know when it might be too late. 

I was restless, defiant, sometimes agressive. Didn’t quite know where it springs, why do I feel this uncomfortable in my own self? Everyone was wrong, everyone opposed me and I didnt’t get why. I thought the problem is with the others, it definitely can’t be me. My thoughts didn’t change, until I had started to clean my own closet, started from the zero point, I got back to the very basics and began my psycho-hygiene. I went through stages - denial, bargaining... to acceptance. I finally reconciled and signed an imaginary peace treaty with myself and my optics have changed. It suddenly set all things in motion, like a domino effect. The relationships started to make sense. The friendships worth it were strengthened and the ones that did not bring any pleasure were eliminated. My loving family became more loving, not that they had started to love me more, only I started to be able to receive their love and give it back in full measure. I ceased to care about the less loving part of my family and concluded that pretense is a waste of time. I came to understand my lovely boy, who has such a good heart that only an evenly good heart can appreciate. I found out that animals, like my friends, are dearest to me when alive and I found my balance. Balance inside and outside. I stopped tilting at windmills. And I discovered that if you’re missing something, you have to find it in yourself. Start with yourself. Maybe then you will find what you were failing to grasp and can pass it forward...

My flower is still just a bud, but since the sun is shining and I keep watering it regularly, I can already see colourful petals making their way through, determined to blossom.

It has been a long search and it took the better part of my life to find out how to keep my flora thriving. I finally found the essential. I found love. And that day I found it even the reflection in the mirror looked more beautiful. 

(Tracy and his Tiger)

The Search

A man or a girl in the name of Tracy,

Chased by a sandstorm all dark and hazy,

In this ominous dance must be a fighter

To find the one willing to shelter a tiger.

Seemingly endless such is this storm,

The time always drags just before dawn.

Awaiting a car that greets a hitch-hiker,

Who begets next morning to look brighter.

Someone who shows life could not be better.

The one who composes a song from a letter.

One who brings water when the thirst is great.

Who blurs the line between real and faith.

When all the words betray their meanings,

One will revive from the ashes of Phoenix.

A pair of headlights emerge from the mist

Beseeching two animals to coexist.

I wish in this voyage you were the driver,

Who in the end saves me and my tiger. 

Everything on Earth with you

Today on the coach to London I was sitting next to an asian couple, they could have been around 24 years old, and I couldn’t help myself looking at them all the time – they were so adorable. She was knitting a dark green woolen scarf (seriously who KNITS these days? Isn't it amazing? Even my grandma gave it up for the price of the wool is nowadays higher than three new jumpers from you-know-where-store) probably for him, and in the meantime looking at her boyfriend, smiling at him because he was constantly taking pictures of her with the classic DSLR with a-bit-too-large-and-awfully-expensive lens. Even when she wasn’t looking and was absorbed in her knitting, he kept snapping her from different angles and then examining his shots for ages. When they both got tired of their activities (it was very early in the morning) they fell fast asleep, shoulder to shoulder, head to head.

When I got off the bus at Victoria heading towards exit, there was a beautiful girl sitting on a bench in a waiting room reading a magazine whilst her boyfriend, a very stylish long haired hippie looking guy, was reading a book lying down, his head in her lap. A simple picture really. And yet there was something magical about the scene. They weren’t talking to each other, they didn’t need to, either one of them engaged absolutely in their reading... but they needed to be close, to have their piece of intimacy in that crowded place.

You don’t physically need anyone for doing particular activities. You can’t knit the same scarf at the same time with another person (two hands are just enough). It wouldn’t be of any use if four hands held the camera at the same time, pressing a shutter button together. And just as well, even if it is possible for two people reading the same book at the same time, it is not the best thing to try.

There are lots of things you normally do on your own. And you enjoy doing it on your own.
But having your loved one next to you, sharing a moment with you, casually touching each other every once in a while makes the time spent doing your own thing divine. 

My Dear,

I write you today with a humble plea, will you come on a good trip with me?

Build me a time machine, oh I please, I no more tolerate being slave to the screens.

Let us be woken up in 1950s, you would make a great James Dean and I could perhaps be a dark Marilyn...

These dreams come to me concealed in a mist, and mighty melancholia enshrouded my list.

But today I say no, no to this folly, our existence is short, it’s got to be jolly!

Living fast dying young you should leave to James, because I know secretly you have box full of plans. Don’t you?

Maybe you’ve written the list same as mine, no need to be ashamed, to dream is no crime. 

You are too beautiful and angelic to die, I’m sure one day you will find your goldmine.

Like me, I kept on digging and I found my gold, such as no salesman had ever sold.

I’m writing all this to you ’cos you’re not a mere photograph to me any longer...I’m chained to your soul now ever so stronger.

You’ve always been my 13th chamber and you’ve always been my May in December.

You’re the living proof that wishes come true, you just have to wait, minute or two...

Last year I tossed a coin into the fountain, and ended up on the top of the mountain...

...And from the top I shouted in delight: I’m yours, you have me all and it serves you right.

So I’ve written my list and every point is a fantasy, to make them real is my kind of ecstasy.

I want to discover the whole spectrum of your shades, to fight you in the kitchen smashing plates.

To play hide and seek in the white sheets, be the best of the best that the eye meets.

I want to get furious and then reconcile, to negotiate peace in bed with each style.

I want to chase the rainbow’s end, and together build castles in the sand.

I want to knit you an awkward sweater, and to write you a perfumed letter.

I want to kiss every freckle on your neck, to spend the time counting hair on your back.

I want you to comb my long hair, to die in your arms, safely in your care.

I want you to read to me aloud, to celebrate how sweet your voice sound.

I want to take loads of pictures of you... I wish I could do everything on Earth with you. 

To kill a mockingbird

“...remember it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird“. Mockingbirds they do no harm, they only fly and sing... bringing people pleasure. Why should any living creature be killed if it does no harm? Oh yeah, because we humans – being on top of the food chain and masters of the universe – desperately need animals for food, clothing, medicine, furniture, entertainment, science, and so on and so forth. It is natural, it has always been like this, they were here to serve us, help us, and at the end give us their whole body for us to use. Not deliberately of course. But that’s just how it had to be for us to survive. Humans and animals lived in synergy for centuries.

Thousands and hundreds of years after a lot changed. We still need them though. But we need them more, quicker, bigger, and in huge numbers. And we need them subdued. We need to dominate. We no longer want to live in synergy. We conquered the world, act like self-appointed masters, and ignore the fact that we do not own the Earth – we are its guests, inhabitants, just like them.

The way animals are treated in this century however, does not resemble the classical concept of synergy at all. Capitalism and mass production (overproduction to put it more accurately) caused that animals became a mere product, an object of our demand. A THING. And just like mass production had a negative impact on the quality of other goods, meat industry is not an exception. On the contrary. If you’re an optimist you might think: aah it cannot be THAT bad. The answer of a realist slash pessimist is: it is even WORSE. Worse you have ever expected.

Talking about animal abuse could take for hours and hours, but think about this: Where did GRATEFULNESS go? Where is respect? We lock them up in cages, give them crappy food all their lives, deprive them of green grass, fresh air, and sunlight, force them to do things that are against their nature, take their children, mistreat them and beat them, and don’t even show them the last act of kindness we could possible show, and that is to kill them quick. To end their miserable lives without any more pain. And then this random guy, who works in a meat factory, who beat up several living creatures today as an everyday routine, comes back home from his shift for supper and stuffs himself up with a beef steak, or a roasted pork, or a chicken leg. Shouldn’t he be grateful? That he could fill up his stomach by taking some other living creature’s life? This is our idea of a thank you for providing us everyday nutrition? And you don’t need to work there to be aware of it. You witness it. And you support it. Be the change you want to see in the world (in case you want to see any change... Gandhi modified).

They do no harm, they only help us, serve us, feed us. Instead of beating, hug them. Instead of locking them up, give them freedom. At least for the time being. And when the time comes for them to walk their way up to the slaughterhouse, be kind enough to not let them suffer. Please be grateful.

And something to think about:

"Closing your eyes isn't going to change anything. Nothing's going to disappear just because you can't see what's going on. In fact, things will be even worse the next time you open your eyes. That's the kind of world we live in. Keep your eyes wide open. Only a coward closes his eyes. Closing your eyes and plugging up your ears won't make time stand still." 

(H. Murakami - Kafka On The Shore)

To Kill A Mockingbird

I dream about a land where

A sunrise can conceal the torment

A guilty one becomes the innocent

A cynic turns into a believer

And a taker comes to be a giver.

I fantasize about a space and time where

Rousseau at last finds his peace

Nothing plagues him in necropolis

Where people instead of using force

Will apply their instinctive remorse.

I’m at the interchange of life where

It is a sin to be blinded by choice

Be able to hear, not hearing their voice

A knowledge comes along with pain

And ignorance is imprisoned in chains.

I believe to live in a world where

It is a sin to kill a mockingbird

Morality is a virtue to be honored

Love a commodity for an exchange

A lone one against all can bring a change.

A note on a fine man

I wouldn’t have written this some year ago. But a year is quite a long time to change, and reconsider values in life. A lot changed in my life in the past year. And I have to say that just like it changed me in a bad way, it also caused many positive changes in my personality. And this is exactly what my father told me one not-that-typical Wednesday afternoon: this is gonna change you. Either in a bad or good meaning of the word, but THIS is gonna change you... in a way... And again my father was right. As almost always.

This below is dedicated to my dad. Now on the treshold of my quarter-of-a-century age I see things differently. I can see that what I considered to be a reckless money spending was in fact a generosity. A pessimist and a negative talk was in fact a realist view of a contemporary society. A sometimes crude and harsh behaviour targeted on me was just a plain desire to show me that the world will not treat me nicely and that I should better learn how to cope with it now. And that his insensitive mask he was wearing since I can remember was merely his attempt to disguise his vulnerability.

He knows humans, their very nature and that makes him pessimist about them. Many people disappointed him in his life, many ended up to be traitors, hypocrites, and calculative swines. But despite all this his belief in people’s kindness and goodness sustained. He still believes in good friends and family who would not let him down. He believes that there still is a minority of good people in the world who despite the cruelty of the society are still not extinct. They are somewhere and it’s worth believing in them. If nothing else, it gives one hope. And my father is very hopeful. Despite all the pessimism, he keeps his hope in people.

As the time goes on I can see myself in him more and more. Personal traits I once couldn’t stand are now my characteristics – and it is because I had always been like him, I just didn’t respect myself, that is why it wasn’t possible for me to respect him. Everyday I discover some more things about me that I have seen before in my father. And what was before unacceptable, is now very welcome. I like myself for what I am now. I don’t hate myself for what I was then, it is a part of growing up. And it’s never too late, is it?

I thank him for showing me what is important in life. What matters. What I want to become, and what I don’t. And I hope one day in far and distant future I will look in a mirror and the wise wrinkles on my old face will resemble those of my dad.

To My Dad

I see the glimpse of my five year old smile

Your hair being black back in the times

When prices were low and hopes were high

Though future was bluer than the skies.

Look at this photo where you and me

Both of us look like catchers in the rye.

Now everything’s changed since ninety three,

Once glass is broken, there’s no point to cry.

Ten years from that I was neither Holden,

Nor my first cigarette made me look cool,

Words from my mouth were nothing near golden,

You must have thought I was a crowned fool.

I didn’t write down your wisdom pearls,

And was still lacking eight tooth in a row,

I thought you just didn’t understand girls

With my defiance I made you my foe.

A decade passed by in the blink of an eye

We fought many battles of frogs and mice.

The truth reveals what seemed to be a lie,

What’s been here all time comes as a surprise.

I know it’s designed, it’s not a mere chance

That our cardgame was played with agression.

I guess we are made of the same substance

And both of us needed to make a progression.

I want to trade the hostility for gratitute

And want to express my deepest regret

That it took me ten years to review my attitude

And to fully grasp what you have meant.

Now I can see why you hate stinginess,

For I wanna be generous as much as I can

To be hopeful each day and show my gratefulness,

And just like you, to become a good man. 

On the road

I've always had itchy feet. Being at one place for too long always gave me a suffocating feeling. I need to explore, I need to move, I need to hit the road... it's in my genes. 

The more I walk around the world the more uncertain I am about my future. Seeing all the things I've seen and doing all the things I've done makes me realise that life has many different forms and it offers many ways which to take. I could either live satisfied with what I have, wanting nothing more, or I can be eager to gain as much from this world as possible. 
It only depends on how you approach it. Our Mother Earth offers a lot to us, it's upon us whether we take those chances and make the most of it, or we say Thank you, I'm fine. 

I am not fine. I don't want to be. I still want more, explore more, discover more, know more. It's not that I'm greedy. I want to find out why I had been born, for what reason and purpose. And to find happiness. I'm on the road already. I can feel it with all my heart. And then I will pay all I've got back. 

On The Road

In ardor I shall abuse the papers

Until I get the writer’s cramp,

To hail all them fools and dreamers

Like dear Alexander Supertramp.

Gone with a wind for a great odyssey,

Treasure hunter chasing happiness.

He hit the road, come what may.

His pockets full with emptiness.

Oh how I admire such a man and

those few others with lust for life

For refusing to dig his own grave

Whilst his body’s still alive.

I will breathe and enjoy the air,

Look with eyes open and appreciate,

To live, love and laugh I will dare,

And others with that I will irritate.

Like a needle in large haystacks

I’m hard to find, I’ve been released

I don’t know what happens next,

Only that the sun rises in the east.

Was looking for nothing but I found

My place in this complexity.

In deep delight I kiss the ground,

Welcoming my new identity.

Horizon’s turned into my motivation

Under the sky I made a vow.

I see myself in a star constellation.

Far away, settled down, but not now.

The road became my best friend,

Can see it’s long, wide and curled.

And this road will never end,

It probably goes all around the world.

Southampton, new home

It has been a month now since a streetcar named desire dropped me off in Southampton. In the city of the Queen of the Ocean I had started a new chapter of my life. So far it has been an experience all inclusive with tears, laughter, love, embarrassment, anticipation, fear, and wonder... and... so on and so forth. I’ve never felt as by my myself and as independent as here. I flew out of parental nest and now free as a bird I at last learn how to cope with hardships of life by myself alone.

I couldn’t have chosen a better place. Here, embraced by the history of this city, I walk down the streets where the very feet of Captain Smith walked, I peep into the front yards of houses, thinking that this might have probably been a house where one of the crew lived their lives until they boarded the ship for their final journey. Here my maritime heart found its new home. 

Southampton

The Southampton sea, so deep and blue,

Glistening with silvery vessels,

My romance that might become true

Is sweeter than all of the desserts.

Here the wisdom of books is embraced

By the long arms of funnels and cranes,

And its purity hidden in a dusty maze

Here my feet wander through roads and lanes.

In the broken home of the Queen of the Ocean,

Captain Smith’s footprints tangle with mine

I’m overwhelmed by the ancient emotion

Joy and euphoria ahead of the time. 

My angel

When two souls were meant to be together, they remain chained, a link so strong not even death can break it. 

I am blessed to have you. 

I believe you look after me wherever you are. I believe that all happened for a reason... 

I know it was your voice I heard inside. I know you are my intuition that I trusted ever since. I know you sent me that good man in the shop who gave me money at the till after my immoderate shopping spree when I didn't have enough to pay. I know you sent me to Prague. I know you have forgiven me for what I did, although I had never forgiven myself. 

Thank you for leading my path. 

Angel

Where have you been sent from? I don’t know...

I held you in my arms and now you’re gone.

You left your home and off you went

Your broken body no one could mend.

...I don’t know why I told everyone,

Those screams in my head just did me harm.

Maybe I desired to be like them,

All kids had one with whom to play.

As bitter and short, as was your journey,

So painful and long, thus is our mourning.

I hope my beliefs end up as no treason

And everything truly happens for reason.

At the cemetery of toys overhead

There you sleep peacefully in your bed. 

Protecting me while still being protected

Your constant presence in me is reflected.

I know that we’ll meet and I’ll wait my turn

Til then I shall let my fire burn,

And this little poem for you to whisper.

For you to not forget I am your sister. 

(Paintings: Edvard Munch)