2009.08.07 It's Present day (Satyr for "nemo")

Pass the concrete jungle (x4 whispered)

Pass the concrete jungle
If you find escape.
Seek your roots eternal,
Unless you wanna ro_______t

Let your mind decay,
Throw your thoughts away,
And on your birthday
We'll buy you a brain.

When thinking is painful,
Throw your thoughts away,
Don't mind about the city,
It buries you each day.

Let your mind decay,
Squeeze your thoughts enchained,
And on your birthday
We'll buy you a brain.

Let your body stink,
And your skin will choke;
On the Child's Day
We'll buy you a soap/ All you need's a soap.

Let your mind decay,
All your thoughts unchain
And on your birthday
We'll buy you a brain.

~ 1 AM

(possible attempt of lyrics for a song inspired by a guitar-drum-bass line made by a friend)

2009.07.24 Non-sense Longing

You'll be still for one more moment,
Fairy of the dreams I had.
We'll be true one to each other,
Let me chase you like I wish.

Widow chasing is far better than reaching their flesh, when they can sting, you know. But now I'm chasing extravaganza.
And that was the "poem" about nothing; the absolution of zero; the objectivation of the null. If there were a productive absurd/ non-sense, then let's say:

'That takes my thought to a non-sense place'
'I'm already there', said the lad,
'I am the ghoul beneath your pillow,
I am the ghoul under your bed'

Let's assume I go on with this absurdity; but to me it's like a fear of the non-sense. I'm one of those "oameni cu frica de ridicol" ("people who fear the ridicule") from an essay of Mircea Eliade. I had been wishing to make a kind of experiment with absurd ideas, like a vertigo of non-related words, just to see what it leads to, like a thought salad I had been lately concerned with. And it really represents an important question for me.

And you, haven't you been wandering around these questions? Haven't you thought of experimenting that vertigo of thoughts? Or haven't you felt that fear of the absurd the further you grew old?

2009.07.01 July Morning Erotophilosophia

-(just another) erotophilosophia-

Moto (sic!): love is more retarded than blind

again at little hours,
when the stream neurons devours

I am the blind who finds himself
In cages of deep locked damnations
Putting true love on a dusty forgot shelf
By never thought abominations.

I am too deaf for caring,
I mute the cares that start from their very root,
It's just that I cannot recall
how to care.

The blind who doesn't see the ocean from the tides,
Who seeks emotion when emotion hides,
Who sought black widows when widows cannibalize,
Who'll never ever learn their dirty prides.

I must be too me,
When I look at ye,
I must be too decayed,
A moth ever hitting the glass
Through which he knows he ain't gonna pass.

The moth just felt the glass oh so intense,
That when he hit the glass he thought he'd get a recompense,
He never learns the voltage could be harming to the wing
He'll always masochistically swing
For the volupty on love's string.

I'm overburdened with homework poetry
Cause, after all, I'm still alive!
And absolution is not a way to be,
It has to follow a decay

I got the license for the feelings firewall
Remember:'God told me I don’t deserve a licensed feelings firewall because I'm too young and I've got to learn from them'?
__________
Or not? Ain't I lying to myself? OK, that's really the end... of this chapter. When will the thrill be over? I hope this not be an original way of saying something typical.

Again, the stream. I guess the thrill is gone... for now

The thrill is gone. The creeps are in their bed.

The final question(s) for you: don't you need a philosophy of love? And haven't you felt at times the vicinity of love and death, when you feel in the same amount that the beloved one needs your love and death at the same time?

2009.07.23 My Brain on the World: Science, Religion, Culture, Art Or What Romania Borrowed Worst from the West and East

2009.07.23 My Brain on the World*: Science, Religion, Culture, Art
Or What Romania Borrowed Worst from the West and East

I can neither ignore, nor agree, or disagree to how our parents and grandparents were indoctrinated with beliefs and appearances of the Romanian socialism ¹; a few have a nostalgia on their impossible communion with the Church, but the thinkings of the most of them became pseudo-pragmatic to sceptical ones: something like I know religion isn't going to bring me my daily bread. Art or books won't either do... OR: I am a Christian, I believe in God, except I don't go to church, but how come Virgin Mary had a child without a Man to... be there in the equation? Then with a kind of pretended satisfaction: Oh, but I liked Russian novels a lot; and Eminescu, and Sadoveanu. We also studied more intensively at school ("Pe vremea noastra... se facea carte.") a.s.o. Isn't it natural to leave books when there are computers, if we don't mention the already old-fashion TV? How would a developing child quit a beautifully coloured PC game or cartoon - which are more at hand for him - and head to the bookshelf? When I say natural, I'm not at all pretending this is the normal way to raise a child, but on the contrary this is simply the logical phenomenon for some generations since the 90's. It is excusable for a child, but not for the parents too. Now I'm not in the mood for child psychology; what I'm trying to reach is that before our so-called 1989 Revolution people simply had less activities (even though the TV programme was exaggeratedly little ²), and in that era of pseudo- scientific progress we really had a more imposing series of intellectual personalities - oppressed as they were, but with greater contribution; though this very oppression led, as suffering leads, to great artistic works. I don't happen to know - to be sincere - what the great figures/ models there were (except, perhaps, the cult of the dictators); I guess it's terror that shaped people's fates, an anti-mechanism through which people formerly differentiated by capitalism had afterward been sharing poverty. I made this calque inspired by one of W. Churchill's great quotes: "The inherent vice of capitalism is the unequal sharing of blessings; the inherent virtue of socialism is the equal sharing of misery." I invoked this socialism argument because at that times religion was in a big conflict with science. (Yes, it sounds childish; more precisely, it was the so called scientific development of our country that was supposed to nullify people's beliefs and belief's symbols because they were supposed to only follow the dictator.) The indoctrinator scientist puppets were writing brochures or books like Science and Atheism. This tells all about what they hated most: the believers (and also intellectuals). You could call me Captain Obvious, but these ideas are very expressively described in the essays from Despre lucrurile cu adevarat importante (On Really Important Issues), by Alexandru Paleologu, essays that I really liked in the past few days. The author explains for instance how a society that loses its faith is most likely to be ruled by a tyrant; and it's not about exaggerated belief led to fanaticism. Some of those essays describe how Romanian post-'89 society still suffers a handicap after over half a century with titles such as The Triumph of Oligophreny. A reflection of our current culture status can be reflected in some quotes like this:

Favorite Books
nu prea am pt ca toate care le citesc imi plac (~ I don't have so many 'cause all I read I like~ I'm not able to perfectly translate that, but it's a relative pronoun disagreement)

The book also gave me an interest in finding more information about our last king, Mihai I of Romania, one of the imposing figures that national propaganda made Romanians forget of. And that is all for now about Romanians' fake and blind transition from religion towards exact sciences. And this was the Religion - Science conflict.

Now, I start describing the conflict Science - Art.
Lately, I started creating a repulsion towards those who embrace only exact / experimental / realistic or however-you-like-to-call-them sciences; I must refer to one of my past notes: Those who are set on ground (from the sciences sphere i.e.) tend to transpose their selves into a virtual dimension, for instance in a utopia, in an imagined future. They might sometimes try to get even higher, with the help of addictions and may become junkies. Though, the higher they tend to get, the lower they sink.
Those who live in the clouds (from the humanistic sphere i.e.) tend to return to Earth, to reality. They might sometimes quit addictions, quit being junkies. It is them who, despite trying to settle with their roots deeper into the ground, they might rise on peaks never imagined before... Maybe. And this also springs from Paleologu's op. cit. that had an impact on me, making this discrepancy between realistic and humanistic people more obvious for me. He quoted stereotypes of the 90's like "With philology you couldn't get a job nowadays, the most important is electronics/ mathematics etc. (<In ziua de azi> e nevoie de electronisti. Nu mai faci nimic cu filologia.)" Partially true. He hated that "in ziua de azi" (=nowadays). After the 2000's, I guess, this became "Informatics (which means IT or computer science) is the future. You won't earn your money from philology/art etc". Also partially true.

Regarding philologists, artists or other similar people, the truth is you have to be really, but really good, if not a genius; if you are a mediocre artist, you are just another clown between clowns. You'll shake your tricks in vain if the audience throws with mud at you. Like one of my notable friends said: when you're a musician, you have to release a good song. After that, if you don't want to remain in the shadow, you have to release something remarkably better. I believe the audience needs the "clowns" too. Unless you are a national talent, the saying with the starvation warning will remain an axiom. And that is how that "partially" could be defined. Maybe I'm over-pleading for philologists, because I feel like being in front of a culture tribunal.

Regarding another branch of art, writing, I lately created a sort of repulsion towards poems too. Yes, you could freely call me ignorant, but it's a temporary belief; I think I'll be in a belief change for all of my life. The repulsion is explained in something like this: I think poetry makes ideas and feelings hide behind the stanzas and lyrics and words. During creation, the poet loses a noticeable quantity of what he/she had wanted to express.

During those times I would also hear people saying "That who knows two or three foreign languages will easily find something for a living". Oh, but I like hearing that; because I liked English; French started being more familiar to me, people would warmly then recommend me an ambassador, diplomat - or something like this - job. The truth is it only remained an enthusiasm.

These days I also personally know educated people from the realistic sphere (I don't want to sound like speaking about aliens) who present a paradox, I could say. They also belong to the majority that asks "So... Why did you choose the Faculty of Philology? You'll definitely become a teacher, am I right?" And again this same obsessive imperative, which sounds like a nightmare.

The conflict Homo universalis - Specialization states: "You must have cultura generala³" or "What will you do when someone asks you what the capital of West Samoa is?" In my first school there was a quote "It is far better to know something about everything than to know all about one thing." On the Internet I found that it is of Blaise Pascal: "Puisqu'on ne peut être universel en sachant tout ce qui se peut sur tout, il faut savoir peu de tout. Car il est bien plus beau de savoir quelque chose de tout que de savoir tout d'une chose; cette universalité est la plus belle. Si on pouvait avoir les deux, encore mieux" It intrigues me: what is this Romanian "cultura generala" that parents and mediocre/average teachers praise so much? The truth is I would like to be an expert in music, linguistics, literature, religion, philosophy, all together, but I'll never be able to. Though, I would agree to the last part: avoir les deux = to be universal and also specialist. "What if you meet someone in the street, and he/she asks you for how long Stefan cel Mare reigned?" First of all, I know his reigning years, because my first school is named after him and in the center of my native city we have his statue. Second, why should someone feel concerned about such a virtual situation?

The conflict Culture - Money or How to be a fool with diploma just for making money. "You must learn in school and graduate a faculty in order to do something for a living" our dear parents would advise us. But not for the sake of culture, but for money. Because some of them repent they didn't achieve goals like these.


____________________________________________________
*The title traces me to a short text that I had to translate in my second semester for an English language course, with an ignorant professor. It sounded like My Brain on God I guess.
1. I couldn't call it communism, as this is an utopia that was supposed to emmerge in West Europe.
2. about two hours containing: news on the Romanian Communist Party's achievements, propaganda for the dictators, and then eventually some bit of entertainment. Then, in weekends, I guess, extra hours of entertainment and a pretty good documentary, http://ro.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teleenciclopedia.
3. I won't translate it because it is too rooted in Romanian culture.

2008.09.18 The Shore, My Relief

Thank you for allowing me to put the foot of my heart on the shore of your soul; even after floating on your island of hope; 'cause there had been harder times when I'd been drowning on land! So I'm now on shore, thanks to heaven, fate or any other superior spiritual forces, and I'm hoping to slip no longer.

2008.09.03 withered feelings

It is 'a rose on the snow', or sometimes an orchid at the peak of the growing period or a carnation. It grows or it withers. At the beginning it is an orchid and it grows gradually because people use to water it; for they can't wait to see it (turning) in bloom. In time, it might become a bigger orchid or a veritable carnation. The first case is that of the real gardeners, who have a lot of things in common or who have little pride, and the second one of the cucumber cultivators, who are able to water, to cultivate, or rather to raise/breed strictly carnations; these are most likely opposite or rather too self-fulfilled, vain-glorious or arogant.

the beast

Hither cometh the beast:

FRA Un mal nécessaire et un frisson, un froid inconfondable. Froid? Non! Il y a beaucoup plus... Un mal nécessaire pour ma formation dans la vie, pour que la sort me trouve préparé :-j Mieux, je parlerais sur le plaisir. *Shiverescalofroid* je le pourrais appeler. Je suis content en plus; bien que... je ne pourrai accepter que les moments comme ceux-ci viennent en petites quantités. Il fut une expérience comme quelque chose totale, quand une persone sent qu’il n’y avais encore quelque chose „si complète” et si... chargeante, qui te contradise les margines de ce que l’âme avait pu embracer. Et je dis qu’il s’agit seulment de chair? Il y a plus, plus que j’attendais.
Il fut un froid des plus forts. Il est inutile apprecier ses limites. Quelque chose qui tombe parfaitement sur le corps et sur l’âme, qui se fait un el le même avec l’autre corps et avec l’autre coeur; qui sont de l’enfant, du garçon qui ne sait pas quoi sont la Fortune, le Destin. Il y a une obscurité de cette nuit-là qui m’a fait voir combien de lumière et force peut porter une jeune-fille dans ses bras et embraces, dans ses baisers, dans sa bouche pésante, qui tirait fortement l’essence de mes lèvres. Probablement que fut cette même force qui m’a tenu jusqu’à ce moment dont j’écris.

ESP Un mal necesario y un escalofrio inconfundible. Escalofrio? No! Hay mucho mas... Un mal necesario por mi formación en la vida, para que la suerte me encuentre preparado :-j Mejor, hablaria sobre el placer. *Shiverescalobrivido* lo podria llamar. Soy contento ademas; aunque... no podre’ acceptar que los momentos como estos vienen en pequenas cantidades. Fue una experiencia como algo total, cuando una persona siente que todavía no había una cosa „tan completa” y tan... cargante, que te contradiga los margines de lo que el alma había podido abrazar. Y digo que se trata solamente de carne? Hay mas, mas de lo que espere’.
Fue un escalofrio de los mas fuertes. Es inutil apreciar sus limites. Algo que cae perfectamente sobre el cuerpo y sobre el alma, que se hace uno y lo mismo con el otro cuerpo y con el otro corazon; que son del nino, del muchacho que no sabe que son la Fortuna, el Destino. Hay una oscuridad de aquella noche que me ha hecho ver cuanta luz y forza puede portar una muchacha en sus brazos y abrazos, en sus besos, en su boca pesada, que agarraba fortisimamente la esencia de mis labios. Probablemente que fue esta misma fuerza que me ha tenido hasta este momento en lo que escribo.

ITA Un male necessario ed un brivido inconfondibile. Brivido? No! C’e` un po` di piu`... Un male necessario per la mia formazione nella vita, al fine che la sorte mi trovi preparato :-j Meglio, parlerei sul piacere. *Shiverescalobrivido* lo potrei chiamare. Sono contento inoltre; benche’... non potro` accettare che i momenti come questi vengono in piccoli quantita`. Fu una esperienza come qualcosa totale, quando una persona sente che ancora non c’era una cosa „completa cosi`” e... caricante cosi`, che ti contraddica i margini di quello che l’anima aveva potuto abbracciare. E dico che si tratta soltanto di carne? C’e` piu`, piu` che ho aspettato.
Fu un brivido dei piu` forti. E’ inutile apprezzare le sue limiti. Cualcosa che cade perfectamente sul corpo e sull’anima, che si fa uno e lo stesso coll’altro corpo e coll’altro cuore; che son del bambino, del fanciulo che non sa cosa son’ la Fortuna, il Destino. C’e` un’oscurita` di quella notte che mi ha fatto vedere quanta luce e forza puo` portar’ una fanciula nelle sue braccia, nei suoi baci, ed abbracci, nella sua bocca pesante, che stringeva fortissimamente l’essenza delle mie labbra. Probabilmente che fu questa stessa forza che mi ha tenuto fino a quest’istante in cui scrivo.

LAT Malum necessarium et frigus inconfundibile. Frigus, tremor? Non! Aliquid plus est... Malum necessarium mea formatione in vita, ut Sors paratum me inveniat :-j Melius, dicam de voluptate. *Shiverescalobrivido* id possem appellare. Plus, contentus sum; quamquam... admittere non potero momenta ut ista parvis quantitatis venire. Experientia ut quidquid totale fuit, quando persona sentit iam non fuisse quidquid „tam completum” et... tam onerante , quid tuas limites cuius anima potuerat abbracchiare contradicat. Et dico id esse solum de carne? Plus est, plus quam exspectavi.
Frigus potentissmorum fuit. Inutile est huius limites appreciare. Quidquid cadens perfecte supra corpus et supra animam, quid unum et idem alio corpore et alio corde se facit; quae pueri, infantis sunt qui nescit quid Fortuna, Sors essent. Est obscuritas illius noctis quae me fecit vedere quantam lucem et fortitudinem potest puella portare suis bracchiis, suis basiis, et abbracchiis, sua ore ponderosa, quae fortissime essentiam mearum labra stringebat. Fortasse eadem ista fortitudo quae me usque ad hoc momentum quo scribo tenuit.