History

 We write history every day. Our own, personal, tiny kind of history.

It's small, but it's still history. A small line on an enormous white piece of paper. A tiny colorful line that happens to intersect other tiny lines on its path. A microscopical line that gets lost in the infinity.

It's funny, really. 'History' is such a big word. It encompasses such a vast volume of grandness and greatness and eternity. And we, as human beings, represent these tiny dots that you can't even tell apart from a fair distance. Yet we, insignificant creatures, write history every second. We, trivial animated things, are capable of excellence. Through our thoughts, words and actions.

And I have to admit, such an idea is kind of hard to ingest. On the other hand, it also creates a rather haunting sensation of randomness. Maybe even chaos.

It is random indeed - all of it. When we're born, who our parents are and what they've done with their lives up to that point, who their parents were and how each and every one of these people has been raised. How we're being raised. How other incidents happen to occur around us. How these incidents affect us. Our each and every choice. Every single word we utter. Every smile we smile and tear we cry. Every road we take, and every story we write without even realizing. And then there are all these people that enter our life by choice or chance. The way they act, talk, think, respond to random factors, actions, words. Their dreams and goals - short term or long term.

Our dreams. Each and every little dream or ideal that we develop.

All these things, and so many others, when turned into reality, create the world as we know it. Right now. This very second. And from this very point, it falls into our hands to write the rest of it. All the history that's left unwritten. Every single letter of it.

So, just how capable do *you* feel to write history?

Stillness.

Quiet mornings. Those mornings when you just wake up and you don't even want to move. Not because you're tired (even though you kind of are) and you want to go back to sleep. Not because you feel sick (even though your stomach hurts for no reason). Not because you're paralyzed in any way (but yes, this emptiness feels pretty paralyzing, if you put it that way). You just wake up and you feel blank and all you can do is sit there in bed with freezing toes, facing the ceiling, staring at nothing in particular. And it's not even one of those moments when you get lost in your own thoughts (ahh that would at least be something). No sir. You just lay still and blank. No particular thought, or need, or desire. Nothing. Just you, as blank as a fresh piece of paper.

And as you sit there, counting the seconds - 'cause it didn't take you long to get to the point where you realized that counting the seconds is all that you can do, you start feeling more and more annoyed by the stillness and emptiness of it all.

Good morning, Monday. I'm as blank as I'll ever be. I have no idea what I want or need. I just... exist. Breathe. Waste time and space. And right now, on a rather cloudy Monday morning, this is all I have to offer to the world.

How to make the best out of the worst possible.

For those of you who were expecting for this to be a long, self explanatory, life changing, mind revolving, enlightening post that was going to change your life, I apologize in advance. It won't change anything. Just state what there already is.

So the answer is... When everything goes wrong, make things worse. It kinda overturns life's plans. And if it doesn't, hey, you already said that things can't get any worse, right? So what is there left to lose anyway?

P.S. It gets really frustrating not being able to upload my own post photos...

Q.1

"It happened exactly one hundred days after I married Andy, almost to the minute of our half-past-three-o'clock ceremony. I know this fact not so much because I was an overeager newlywed keen on observing trivial relationship landmarks, but because I have a mild case of OCD that compels me to keep track of things. Typically, I count insignificant things, like the steps from my apartment to the nearest subway (341 in comfortable shoes, a dozen more in heels)." (Ellen, Love The One You're With)

Traveling Light

I'm pulling my suitcase down
Packing the things I need
Just a change of clothes
And a porcelain rose
You once gave to me
Leaving the guilt behind
I'm not gonna take the blame
Got too far to go to be carrying stones
When I roll away

I'm traveling light
No baggage this time
And no bitter memories
Weighing on my mind
I'm facing the wind
And I'm ready to fly
Anywhere my heart takes me tonight
I'm traveling light

It might be another town
It might take a year or two
But I'll find what I lost
And I'll have what I thought I had with you
It could be an uphill fight
Or maybe a winding road
All I really know is for me
There's only one way to go

I'm traveling light
No baggage this time
And no bitter memories
Weighing on my mind
I'm facing the wind
And I'm ready to fly
Anywhere my heart takes me tonight
I'm traveling light

I'm facing the wind
And I'm ready to fly
Anywhere my heart takes me tonight
I'm traveling light
---
Today I learnt that turtles always win to rabbits.
---
Listening to: Coldcut - Autumn Leaves
Reading: Getting Rid Of Matthew (OK, OK, I am a terribly slow reader...)
Watching: America's Next Top Model Cycle 12, Episode 9
Playing: MyBrute
---
Since you went away,
The days grow long,
And soon I'll hear cold winter songs.
But I miss you most of all, my darling,
When autumn leaves start to fall.
(Coldcut - Autumn Leaves)
*Click to download song.

title lost somewhere in a dark corner.

it's not much, but it's my life.

grab my hand

and take me far away

make the bad

disappear

and the darkness,

make it glow.

i know i can be complicated

i know i sometimes lose it

i know i make a fuss

out of anything.

but in the end

it doesn't really matter,

does it?

'cause it's not much, but it's my life.

so tread carefully...

old habits die hard. or never at all.

---

Today I learnt silence. *drowns in silence*

---

Listening to: Imaginary - Evanescence

Reading: Getting Rid Of Matthew

Watching: America's Next Top Model Cycle 10, Episode 11

Playing: Jenny's Fish Shop

---

In my field of paper flowers

And candied clouds of multiply

I lay inside myself for hours

And watch my purple sky fly over me.

(Evanescence - Imaginary)

*Click to download song.

Special (for B.)

B.: Yeah, but with all these resemblances, she's still not you.

Me: What's that supposed to mean?

B.: You're special.

Me: Oh... Thanks. *smiles*

.

What does 'special' mean? Is it some kind of a label you earn because of something you do or say? Is it a label someone sticks on you out of affection or love? Is it something you're born with? Is it something you just are? Is it some kind of a warmth that people feel when they're around you? Is it some kind of a 'I am nice to people' label? Or, on the contrary, is it some label people stick on your face when you act all weird and genius-like and like a totally misunderstood artist? Is it something you choose to be? Or is it something you can't get rid of? Is it some kind of spell you put on some certain people in your life? Do people find you special from the first moment they see you? Or do they start feeling you're special once they get to know you? And if so, how well do they have to get to know you in order to decide that you're special? Does this vary from person to person? And after all, aren't we all special at a certain point? And one more thing: can you stop being special? Yes? Well, how do you do that? And if not, why not? Every good thing has its ending. Or... is being special a bad thing? Some kind of an unwanted label?

What does being special mean?

Blah, this was more of a... 'how many questions can you ask starting from a single word' thing. And aparently there are lost of questions to be asked. I won't deny it, some of these questions are really worthy of an answer, from where I'm standing. Some of them hit me on a daily basis. But some of them are there just to fill in the blanks in my head right now.

I guess I just realised that having someone to tell you that you're special really does make you feel that way. And it makes you feel warm inside. And outside.

---

Today I learnt that being special actually means a lot. Before tonigh I always used to say that we are all special. And I still believe that. It's just that being special simply is a special, comforting, warming thing, regardless of the fact that we are all special. 'Cause you know what? We might all be special, but each and every one of us is special in its own way. And that's what makes us unique.

---

Listening to: Katy Rose - Overdrive

Reading: Love The One You're With

Watching: Desperate Housewives Season 1, Episode 9

Playing: With my snow globe. (I am not sure how that's actually called.)

---

They all come here to find a scene

But end up girls on methadrine

Naked on a TV screen

The dreams that fall beneath my feet

Make my footsteps feel so sweet

But your kisses are my fait accompli.

(Katy Rose - Overdrive)

*Click to download song.

Music Vs. Lyrics And Beyond That

I was listening to Peyton's podcast (Peyton Sawyer from One Tree Hill, played by Hilarie Burton) and she was talking about the fact that there are 2 types of people: music people and lyrics people. She says that lyrics people tend to be analytical - trying to find the true hidden meaning of every single line of the songs, while music people only care about the beat.

So I was thinking... I had my 'I'm a lyrics person.' period and I also had my 'I'm all about the music.' days. But I guess I mostly care about the lyrics, since I tend to interpret everything and see things that aren't even there. Plus that I dance like a drunk sheep, so... the pure beat isn't exactly what touches me. I mean, yeah, I have my 'close your eyes and let the sound flow all around you and dream and dream and dream or just do nothing at all' moments, but those are rare. And even then, I usually feel like hearing some lyrics in the background, just so I can think of something random or maybe just focus on the lyrics without choosing a particular subject to focus on.

Peyton said that maybe sometimes it's easier to be a music person, 'cause you always take things slow, you're down to earth, you won't try to find a completely different meaning to everything and you don't risk to lose yourself into the darkness that often. (OK, Peyton only said that sometimes it seems easier to be a music person. The rest is on me.)

Also, I googled the whole music versus lyrics thing (isn't versus kind of a rigid term?) and I realized that I am just one of the many people who ask what's more important: music or lyrics? But I guess when I started writing this post I wasn't exactly thinking of this question in particular. I guess I had in mind something beyond that. I was wondering what's the relationship between music/lyrics and brain/heart. Is it like... If I like the lyrics in a song, it means that I am most probably a rational person, who always listens to her brain and never does reckless things? And if I happen to like the sound rather than the lyrics, it's my heart that's doing all the talking for me?

Because, honestly, I find this so terribly wrong. I mean, I am totally a lyrics person 99% of the time and I am the most incredibly reckless and heart-led person you'll ever meet. And what's with the whole 'the sound touches your heart' thing? 'Cause as far as I can see this, the sound will most probably make you move, have different reactions and sensations. And once again, as far as I know, mechanical reactions and physical sensations are controlled by our brain, not by our heart. And please, do not come up with the example about those feeling that come from the bottom of our hearts and make us cry or laugh or kill ourselves. You know very well that I'm talking about a completely different thing in here, so don't try to be a smart ass.

*pauses*

You know what I realized while writing all these things? That nothing makes any sense at all, if you stop and analyze it. I mean, look at what I just wrote. That I am talking about something different. But, come to think of it, I am not talking about such different things at all. And still, both of the arguments make perfect sense, don't they?

So maybe.. Maybe some things are simply pointless and stupid and pure non-senses. Or maybe they have more than one meaning and they make more sense than so many things in this whole world. Which sounds more likely. I mean, think of it for a second. And yes, I know that I use the 'think of it' phrase a lot, but... I am really hoping that someone will someday make all these things clear for me. So as I was saying, we tend to schematize and put everything under precise labels and sometimes we simply forget that there are thing which simply can't be labeled. Like music.

Music simply is. Music, be it music with lyrics or pure beat, is simply music. And it makes you cry, die, laugh, smile, write, sleep, dance, think, miss, play, compose, eat, draw, sew, talk, sing, paint your walls or hug some random stranger. Do you agree? Now look at all the actions I just wrote. At least half of them are totally analytical actions, while the other half is pure creation. But for all those actions, you need passion and you need conscious willing actions. Actions controlled by your head. So why on earth should we struggle to find any correspondence between music, lyrics and human elements (be them physical or not), when it all turns out to be a mix containing a little bit of everything?

As for the question I asked in the beginning of all this rambling, I am most definitely a lyrics person. First of all because I am a writer. So I appreciate words rather than any other aspect. And secondly because I am a full-time dreamer. And lyrics always make me dream. Of nothing in particular.

So how about you, strangers? Are you most likely to think of yourselves as music people or lyrics people?

-

P.S. I was also thinking of starting my own podcast, but I quickly gave up the idea, 'cause I'd probably be terrible at it. *laughs* No, wait, I am actually sure about the terrible part.

---

Today I learnt the concept of non-sense. And you know what? There's nothing in this world that makes more sense than a total non-sense.

---

Listening to: Bethany Joy Lenz - If You're Missing

Reading: Love The One You're With

Watching: Happy Tree Friends - Candy Eye

Playing: Cook

---

Don’t it get lonely out there, little darling

Well come on home

I’ll be here with open arms

To hold you

When you arrive

I’ll be here with open arms

To show you

Where you belong

If you’re missing come on home.

(Bethany Joy Lenz - If You're Missing)

*Click to download song.

Writing

I just realized that I wake up every morning, naked of any prejudices or certain thoughts. And I put on some random clothes and I get out in the street empty, waiting for someone, something to give a meaning to my day. I get out the door with no other thought than to seek something that affects me. To make my heart race with emotion (and no, I am not talking love in here), my mind jump around, popping thousands of words and ideas all over the place. I do my best on remaining open-minded and open-hearted all day long, just maybe something will get to me. And sometimes something does get to me. Just like yesterday. And sometimes that something makes me write. Just like yesterday. But sometimes there's nothing that touches me the whole day. Or even if it does, I simply can't put it on paper. And I go to bed just as empty as I woke up. And no one ever writes about those moments. No writer in the world. I don't write about my moments when I can't write. But considering the fact that I can't write, that's pretty logical and excusable. I mean, it's not like I refuse to, right?
But... If I don't write, then who does?...
Absolutely no one. And that's a fact. And that's sad. Because 9 out of 10 days, I can't write.
I just hope that's gonna change...
---
Today I learnt something new about writing. Writing is so different from most things in this life. Except for love, maybe. Why? Because 9 out 10 times, writing comes to you, not the other way around. And I know that because all those 9 other times, I try so hard to run after words and stories and articles and nice expressions. And it's always pointless.
---
Listening to: Better Than Ezra - Our Last Night
Reading: Love The One You're With
Watching: Gay Stand-Up Comedy
Playing: Tic Tac Toe with my PC

---

I remember waking up with you.

The days doing nothing,

You meant more to me then

Than I think you ever knew.

But you were going to be a doctor,

A movie star, a poet at a Nobel seminar,

I hope the world never tore that out of you.

(Better Than Ezra - Our Last Night)

*Click to download song.