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18 janvier Good Bye To NobodyI'm leaving this space to rot...
I'm going for a blog like every normal human being on the face of the planet... 15 décembre Stream of ConciousnessI'm thinking of writing something completely useless at the moment, but I pity whoever will read it afterwards. I'll write something that's not so senseless and not so sensible either...A style they call the 'stream of conciousness'. It relies mostly on whatever scattered thoughts are in my little brain right now waiting to be released through my fingertips. Great authors wrote this way, like Edgar Allan Poe, T.S Eliot and (the modernist movment godfather) Ezra Pound. So here's what I could manage, and by the way, this is all written on the spot. Consider it like...Stand-up comedy, but without any link between the ideas presented:
So I'm standing on the edge of this cliff. The horizon is spreading against me on this dead dusk.
Beneath me, is black water that screams of the color of death.
Angels don't sleep at night. Children are in their beds, women in their kitchens and men in their sins.
I can feel this air shiver from the silence of this upcoming summer evening.
The breeze is blowing north on my chest and (for some reason) my heart is pounding.
It seems like this sillhoutte called my body was planning to jump and my heart wasn't quite stupid enough to do so.
I hate it when my emotions interfere with my thinking. It makes you be...Well, emotional.
And right now, it's very hard to jump of this cliff, because time had just...froze.
I'm literally stuck in two seconds of the past. Which means, that people are all after me with two seconds.
Which (I might tell you) feels very awkward and very...timeless.
When you have sense of time, you have no sense of fear, because fear's main factor is the future and when that is absent,
there will be no room for it in your life.
Now forget it, the nightingales are surronding me.
Death is the soul and sole end of every set of games we call life.
In other words, confronting your soul's sins and deeds is only confronting death.
You can die happily in one case only...
By tricking death and confronting your soul before it comes.
You'll then be saved.
Saved for eternity.
26 octobre Supports the RestYou know what I'm sick of? Faking myself...
No one deserves you to change yourself...Not a living Earthly entity...
Mind my words...Earthly entities don't deserve change. I found out that the only way out when you're lost is not to talk to thos who you call friends...Bernard Shaw once said, 'Dear Friends, there are no friends!' People are around you because they like what you do, and rarely because they like who you are. And no, I'm not a pessimist. What was I saying? Yes...When you're lost, seek the way of God. I mean, I haven't seen someone so ignorant in life that he thinks that 'style' is about...Saying something different for the sake of nothing. NOTHING. People say shit all the time, but those idiots I sometimes see, they're an exception...They'll say shit, but they'll make it sound like it's something so essential, so intelligent that everyone goes like, 'Those people are hell cool'. And you know what happens to 'cool' people these days? We imitate them. My advise to 'cool' people is to pay attention to yourselves, not the people. No more shit on how you 'don't give a rat's ass about the people' because you damn as hell do. And those who don't are very very very few. Those who don't care for what people think are those who only care about what God thinks...
I'm not being anti-human or anything...I'm just sick of how some people act. It's sickening to do anything for the sake of attention...To say, 'Anything is better than normal' when all you are is hell normal. Lost and confused, you follow whichever way serves your desires...You forget your REAL function in life...Worshipping your creator! Islam is about the best religion in the world people. The best. I mean...It's the one religion that asks you to do charity...If you weren't obligated to do charity and you have a lot of money, what would you do? Don't lie and say you would...Because you wouldn't! Look at it...Look at the picture and stop living and enjoying your ignorance then calling the ONLY way out...The only light as the ignorant one!
Surprised? Perhaps I am. Leniant? Not anymore. No one has an excuse if it's so apparent he has none, and not that's not cruel. You've got enough money, a chance of education, you're not burnt, you're not in famine, you're not in a war, you're not tired, you have your parents, you have a chance of life, you have some clothing on, you have a computer, you have a TV, you have time to go to the cinema, time to download songs off the internet, time to watch movies on TV...All that, among so much else. And all you have to do is to give Him an hour and a half of your day! JUST that...Fifty minutes prayer (that's if you take ten minutes to pray each prayer, which I think you don't) and another half and hour to read a few verses off the Holy Qura'an and do some Thikr. I don't know...But I tried this...And it works! As hell it works! The world gets...brighter, like that ad they made on TV (the one that said 'Pray and enjoy your life').
Whatever fakeness I lived in disappeared instantly. Not much time left to do anything that my desire asks for...Not much time to wonder about the 'meaning of life'...Because I found it. I found it and I'm happy. Why dowe exist? Check the praying mantis and know. Why are we on Earth and not in Heaven? Check the Holy Qura'an. Why is it that Islam is terrostic? As a great guy once said, check the 'error' in terrorism. It's all about the media...When you ignore that and look at what's in your hands, you'll love it. Every single word of it is beautiful...That Qura'an speaks of the growth of the fetus in a way that we have discovered like...Simply decades ago. You know when the Holy Qura'an was sent on Prophet Muhammmed PBUH? ONE THOUSAND AND FOUR HUNDRED years ago!
We speak of love like the simplest thing today. Love is precious...Very precious. You say the world too much and it becomes cheap. Hell cheap. I was in the mall today and I saw the weirdest creatures in the world. They walked and I was still wondering what gender they belong to! They walkedand they looked stupid as they sniggered and thought of how 'cool' they were. Hell, the one divine comedy of our time is our time. Islam teaches us to love beauty...To admire beauty, but with limits. For some reason, I realized so many things that I didn't know about my religion so recently! Everything about it is amazing...Stunning. Miraculously accurate!
Remember all those blogs I wrote before and seeked your attention? Even though I knew no one was reading? Even though I knew that I was laughing at my intelligence all by my own? Whoever is reading this...Ignore them! Life's not a bitch. Life is lovely if you want it to be lovely! Everything around us is what it is because our perception makes it so! Regretting that you were born? Rashad, I don't know how to explain I'm so damn sick of your retarded thoughts and comments. What do you seek eh? Life or death? Heck, I guess you can't answer it yourself man...Wherever you are, whatever time it is, you won't answer the question. Or maybe answer with a '...' or a 'I don't know' or answer in something sarcastic!
Fe Aman Allah... 31 août Your Number One Fan, EdDear Postwoman,
It's been ages since I got a letter from you, but I have to admit: it has taken me weeks to fully absorb it. Your view of the world strikes me as intriguing, independent and shockingly true. What really gets me feeling weird about it is how it penetrates to my brain, and not my heart. How it is fully absorbed, and how every letter of every word makes a word. You have made a change in my life with those letters I have been recieving. I must confess, it is the first time I'm praising a woman.
My business in this letter, is to ask you more questions Postwoman. I need to ask you more about the fakeness we're living in. Was J.D Salinger right when his protagonist in the Catcher in the Rye hated the world because of how fake it was? Is it really true that we are all hiding in shells, to prevent ourselves from interconnecting with our feelings? And how is it that we still exist and dare to say 'barbaric' when animals manage to live in peace while we don't? How come we never heard of World Jungle War? Is it because we humans refuse to give peace a chance? Refuse to understand life? Is it because God wants to show us the irony of his creation? Or is it because we're too foolish to realize this irony? How much fakeness are we living in really?
Tell me, Postwoman, what do you see when you hear words you didn't expect? I see daggers, stabbing my back, blood splurting out like water does from a fountain. I see visions of Caesar and Brutus. I hear it in my head, 'Et tu, Brute?' Even you? But the question I cannot cease to ask: Is it always Brutus who is the bad man, or is it sometimes Caesar? Is it sometimes inter-changing mistakes? Why is it that there's right and wrong in the first place? I know my quesitons are boring, Postwoman, but I assure you, they're not the product of deep thinking. They're just what I question about when I sit in lonely moments. Is music really a way of letting out our love...or our anger? Anger for the lies of the world? Anger for the things we don't understand? Sometimes the world sounds so complicated, when it isn't.
Is fear really the basic feeling of humanity? Do we function because we fear, and understand because we're scared? Did we really reach that stage of not feeling anything, that we just force ourselves to become who we aren't because we're scared? Are we that desprate? I ask you...Are we that desperate? What gets me bothered Postwoman, is that when you think of it a thousand times; it still doesn't make sense. No pattern. No model way of life. And the model way of life is just a commercial for a life so hard to achieve, rather impossible to achieve. Where you have sucess and you can still feel...Why is it then that the world carries us away from our hearts? That we leave our feelings fotgotten in somewhere between our brain and our body?
You seem to be an excellent listener Postwoman. So are all of those who can make the day with a smile on their face. Because a smile, is really the international language of love, won't you agree? The key that can open any door, and the first header of a first impression. I'm not angry now, because a smile eats my anger. Because my screams are shrouded in a laugh. Because my body is dancing, and my heart is weeping. Because every second of my life screams in agony of trying to know...Because this thirst for knowledge is like Tantalus' for water; cannot be satisfied.And until now I know only one fact, and that is the fact of my ignorance.
But you know Postwoman, it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much; my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst... And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it. And then it flows through me like rain, and I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life.
It's really amazing how I learn from quotes, do you Postwoman? Do you learn new things from old things? Or is getting 'wowed' by a quote simply strange? I have learnt from you Postwoman, more than anyone I have known. You taught me things I wouldn't have dreamed to learn, and for that I am very grateful. I like the column you write every week in my local newspaper, it leaves me stunned and thinking for the entire week. And since we have started to write each other, I'm proud to say: You are my obcession.
I'll be waiting for the next letter...Till then I still remain,
Your Number-One-Fan,
Ed
25 août I Am the WarlusYou ever heard I Am the Warlus by The Beatles. It's like, the most confusing song in history. Start out like this: I am he as you are he as you are me and we're all together Alright, you're him...I'm him...Who the hell is him? And then I'm you, kinda logic since we're both him. And we're all together...So that suddenly means the singer is...totally split? It's a lovely song really. He goes on to explain how he's sitting on a cornflake, and how things fly like pigs from a gun. You know, psychedlic rock in the 60s was like...the genre no one cannot hear. I mean, there were people obcessed with this shit. Really obcessed. And now, we have no John Lennon, we have no Beatles. They were the golden line-up of some of the best musicians of our time, Paul McCartney, John Lennon, George Harrison and Ringo Starr (named many times as the best drummer in the world). Today, I really can't find that 'basic' punk rock the Beatles made...Just Green Day, who perform in their own bathrooms or something. You know what's funny? I talk about music like I talk about life. Does that really make music my life? Does it like...idolize music as my icon to explain everything? A metallic sound? Linking parks everywhere with methods that seem much smarter than we are? Slipping knots around ourselves to get each other's chance? Tasting the sour taste of stone to get food? Living in the buzz of the beatles of technology? Rolling stones on those who we do not like? This sounds creative, yet personally striking. Considering every single 'retorical question' up there is kinda true. What scares you to death, eh? Knowing that dying is a certainity? And that it really doesn't matter if it happens tomorrow to a 100 years later? Death has become everyone's fear, that we even forgot we have to care about our lives. We're so scared of death, that this fear can actually stop us from thinking rationally. Take an example from a TV show...The guy running ina Jeep with a kid in it...Cop shoots the windows, the rear glass, the body, but never the tires. Like, hello, if you do that, you can stop the car (considering you shoot the back wheels). And then getting the guy is a soft piece of cheesecake. I'm leaving, and this will be like, my shortest blog ever or something. I'm off to get me some breakfast or something. Bonjure... 6 août Alternating Time: No UtopiaImagine was a song by John Lennon...Considered among the first of the best 100 songs of all time...The single, sung by John Lennon, creates another world in which the singing charachter invited everyone in so that 'the world will live as one'. Anti-religious, Anti-social, Anti-everything, the single suceeded because it was sugar-coated, and because it provided to this busy world, the one thing it lacks: a total, direct, peaceful change...
In fact, Somewhere Over The Rainbow was an earlier try of the same theme...The lyrics seem to be soothing, and provide the vision of a peaceful world where 'troubles melt like lemon drops' and it provides this whole new world where 'blue birds fly, over the rainbow'...The vision of peacefullness, now deleted from the current themes of songs and replaced by violent, romantic or sexual themes such as 'everything you say to me, takes me one step closer to the edge and I'm about to break' by mainstream nu-metal bands such as Linkin Park or 'oh wontcha loosen up my buttons babe' for the Pussycat Dolls or maybe something like 'I seem so unsure, as I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor'...The clarity, penetration and wideness of these themes are so sad that they're much, much more pathetic than the world we're living in...
Money: Is the main theme of rap songs...Most rap songs...
Sexuality: Becomes the pop theme...Even betrayal is in bed, and never out of it!
Hatred and Psychological Problems: Is what metal and nu-metal have gone too...
And what do we have left here: Jazz, the one genre everyone stopped listening to a long time ago, and becomes more unpopular by each minute, and just one more genre: Rock. People like Bon Jovi, Led Zeppelin and Evanescense...Although the themes of these bands are sometimes like the themes I have mentioned, most of them provide this magical, soothing effect of music...
Gripped into our materialistic world, we're taken by numerous responsibilities...We forget our spiritual side, the side that we should be feeding to equalize our world...But we can't, because (and that's the bigger tragedy) we have nothing, absolutely nothing in this soft side of us...And what do we call someone when he does the equation right? A wimp. We ask for this freedom because we need anything to live in...We just bump into each other, because we're far too desperate that we just need to feel something...To recognize emotion, and try to apply love...Why the hell is love about sex? Or why the hell is love about marriage? Why is it that we really want is the one thing we never do? Be realistic, I know that phrase and I hate it, because being realistic isn't the same as being materialistic, and that's the one thing everyone should know...That's the one thing I wish everyone should know.
Now everyone reading this thinks that I'm a rebel...Is that right? No, that's wrong. Imagining something is much easier than doing it...Imagining isn't just about being different, imagining is about being someone you may not be...Imaging is creating your own world, where everyone lives ever so peacefully...Where your spirit comes before yourbody, where utopia isn't the city you live in...Because living in utopia is boring, because doing mistakes is good, and learning from them is the one privilege everyone hates...
Ever so slightly do we shiver when we see a corpse...So slow is our reaction, that knowing how much 'bodily' humiliation we'll be at hell is the one thing that now drives us to do something good...Because we reached this stage, who you are matters more than what you are...We make fun of things we're scared off...We make fun of the weak, and we become so heartless that we cannot feel what others feel...That we become emotionless, where feeling sympathy is a gift and regretting is a sign of politeness...
Dying is hard, that's what we teach our children...Staying alive, is the one stage that has become the problem now...
Au revior...
18 juin Scrambled ParagraphsI don't know where I'm heading with this blog...
But anyhow, if I'll be talking about fear, well...
Define fear? Tough question.
Fear is an adrenaline rush, it's every Alien movie you watched, every single scare in those bloody movies, every Stephen King novel, every goosepumbs, every single drop of sweat when it's not hot, every adrenaline rush, every warmth of arteries, every little thing that simply scares the crap out of you is called fearful. You realize fear because you just can't live with it. Everyone needs a little scare in his life in order to live in a peaceful world. It's like vaccination...Normally, the disease is transmitted in your little body so that you don't get the same bacteria again, same thing with fear...You need fear, not just to be scared and have fun, but to live happily ever after.
The emotion fear is one that really got me in its tacks...I became obcessed with Stephen King for some time, in fact I'm still quite a fan...Never touched Dark Tower though, but it's a must on my book trolley. I feel like getting scared again, been reading thrillers and the 'adventure' of Robert Langdon for quite some time now, dropping Four Past Midnight for The DaVinci Code and then again for Angels and Demons. I'm telling you: That Dan Brown has weak plotlines, cartoonic charachters, imaginary facts but you just can't out the bloody thing down. I remember reading a quote on The DaVinci Code from a disputed Indian author who writes English books...He said:"Don't start me on The DaVinci Code. A novel so bad that it gives bad novels a bad name." Does Dan Brown have style? No. Does he nail you to the book even though? Yes.
Now back to the main thing: fear. How would you define scary? I mean, I feel fear in things I do not understand. Things I cannot explain. Things I cannot see revealed. Things I cannot see for what they really are. Sometimes, fear comes in many shapes...The worst is being afraid of yourself. You ever felt that? Being so strong, so develish that you become scared from your own actions? Or perhaps I'm a pyscho...But it happens. The thing is, you start getting scared not from the dark side inside you, but from the overdoing of the bright side...Sometimes, the little bit of evil in all of us infects the dominant good part, and then we turn...evil and...scary...and animalistic.
That's right, everyone really has this little piece of evil stranded somewhere between his soul and his mind. Waiting there to be set free, and to reproduce and be more mighty, and have power over our minds. There was a villain in a movie once called Stanley. He used to kill women, then drown their bodies in water using stones. Stanley had a quote I couldn't possibly forget, "There's a little bit of Stanley in everyone." That's it. Everyone has some evil in them, everyone has a little bit of Stanley, or of Hannibal Lecter or from Francis Dolarhyde or Dracula...Everyone has a little Mr. Hyde somewhere.
Am I supposing a far-fetched theory that we are all more or less pocessing split personalities? Yes. Everyone has a spilit personality that appears when he's raged...Tell me, do you ever remember what you said when you were shouting angrily at someone? Do you ever remember what you did when you were in panic? Did you know that humans pocess the highest rate of energy when they're scared? There's little fear in us, and accompanied with there's much energy, there's power and with power there's corruption, and with corruption there's...evil.
In fact, it has been my personal dream since I ever started getting into litreal writing to write a novel on split personalities. Until now, I wrote about three scraps, all don't go to the standard. I feel this story is very personal, I need to feel its revelation some time later. It will just...come when it wants to be written. Sam and Will, The Dark Side or this nameless scrap I wrote once do no justice to this beautiful topic.
It's weird how I write such stuff while listening to Ray Charles...Or maybe classicals. It's weird how I pull all these plotlines together under such great peaceful music...I never write on the tunes of metal, rock or even pop...It has to be slow...Gospel, soul, slow rock (for romance scenes) and sometimes, slow orchestral music. I prefer total silence in writing poems though. Did I tell you about my poem-writing ritual in the 'academic' year of 2005/2006? I used to wait for my teacher (bless them) for about half an hour every single day. Between 2:00 and 2:30, I composed about 2 poems daily. The result: 28 poems written with all my feelings poured in them. At the end of a school day, you feel frustrated, you feel tired, you feel hate, you feel love, you feel...a rythmic tangent world dancing right in front just where you can't reach.
I'm tired now, my hands are throbbing...
And for that friend of mine who asked me 'What can get your IQ lowered to more than half its current value?'...My answer is in three words: Tyra Banks Show...
Bonjurno! |
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