Sunday, February 12, 2017

deceitful

under a blinding sun that has no power
enormous ice slabs tear up each other
above mallards point their arrow to the north
along a wind beyond cold that's freezing no more

under your spell I was blind and had no power
my heart turned to ice, tear it up if you bother
I turned wild, couldn't turn back nor forth
a long winter ahead, a feeling ultimately wrong

Tuesday, January 31, 2017

the turmoil (bit right, then it's dark)

There's been a lot of changes lately. Lost some colleagues, lost some heart. All too sudden, all too much. And I'm still trying to catch up. On the inside, with what's going on on the outside.

Sometimes I wonder if I was the Minotaur in that old dream I mentioned here in my very first log. If my inner bad - not just my fears, but what becomes of me when I let it effect me - is that monster coming up the stairs in this re-ocurring dream I wrote about recently.

I'm still trying to make sense of this world that so often seems senseless.

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Uncle Pista is right

He steps out from his worn-down little block that dates back a century or two. And with the same effort he adds a bit of his cig smoke to the urban air you wouldn't call clear anyhow. Along with him runs out his little poodle and lets out a little puddle right there on the sidewalk. As they cross the road the pet pumps out some dump, too.

Another elderly gentleman is riding his bicycle against me, but he steers away before we'd collide. I hear foreigners talking as I pass a doorway to what I guess is a kindergarten or a school. What strikes me is that their language sounds Arabic while this part of the city is right by the Jewish quarter. As a matter of fact we don't have that many Arabs here in Hungary... Anyhow I don't want to be rude, so decide not to turn and stare.

On my way further down on this long long street I see an old woman barely able to cross the little distance from the other side and relieved she enters the drugstore. Probably right from the doctor.

I'm turning out on the avenue. The little kiosk where there used to be a flower shop not so long ago, stands there empty with its windows smashed in. They turned the big clothing department on the corner into yet another pub. What we've been witnessing on the outskirts for a few years, has now started to happen here, too,

This half an hour walk makes me understand how much I'm still longing back to where once we lived for a short while, and what seems to disintegrate and turn into something else. Like everything else. Anywhere else.

Thursday, December 29, 2016

good bye old stuff

Never felt this tired, end of year or not. I am losing my way in the streets, and I am forgetting things by the minute. All I want is to let it go. All the things that are holding me back. And sometimes I manage, but then I catch myself coming back to where I left it at.

I hope I'll be able to help myself to get better by the time I can stretch and bend my arm again, and lost the rest of my kidney stone, not only physically, but in my soul. It's overdue to make a good thorough cleanup in there, so that I can be free again, and find my own way.

Good luck with that, I really need it, and happy new year, I mean happy, not just saying it.

Monday, December 26, 2016

Lights out

All the countless lights that shimmer 
In the pitch dark of this wee hour
All the endless nights hither tither 
Lit by this spark, you set me on fire

Like those lights shine far and glitter
I can't stop burning with the little
You gave me when I needed it most
So it doesn't matter how much it'll cost

Sunday, December 25, 2016

Push and pull

Over and over countless times and even more
I imagine I tell you how I feel for you
I love you, I need you, you're the one I adore
Asked the cards, asked my friends, what I'm supposed to do

I heard different opinions, learned much about you
Yet here I am yearning after two months or so
Searching a way to say it when it's only us two
But I'm freaking out all the time when you come close

I'm mesmerized by your eyes, I can't hold your gaze
I can hardly speak when I hear your voice again
I was hoping that this was but only a phase
Now I know I was wrong but I'm tired of the game

Cleanup time

I'm emptying the drum of the washing machine
the way I try to wash my drumming heart clean
Some socks come out with their matching pair
like I wish I could find my other half fair
But like PC's alarm of issues beyond repair
my soulmate I long for is out there to remain

Sunday, December 11, 2016

a question of relativity

The plastic bag all used up and worn out
crawled closer precariously, sighing oh so tired,
Or was it the light wind that caught it up
and kept it go low while I was tricked by my mind

Moved by others or myself I feel like you plastic bag
used and abused I take a step forth then back,
Left on your own devices is not always that bad
when all those you search and find seems sheer mad

safety comes first

In this world we always seek safety. That means we don't feel safe. No wonder. If you have eyes and a clear mind, then you understand it's not safe at all. But the most difficult part is to accept that. So we create a creator. Even the biggest scientists, and especially them who go to the core of it all, give in in the end, and start to feel there must be a power behind it all.

And yes, power there is, plenty of it, and we like to feel it, and use it. Hence comes the misunderstanding, we tend to mix power and authority with safety. Some play roles all their lives. Choose someone you feel safe with. Make someone believe they're safe with you. Work for someone because you think it's safe, until you find out it's not. Some people like, or maybe make themselves believe that they like, to do dangerous things. Others do things against the law, some of them only to show that they can.

For instance, I personally like, to curse, also aloud and in public, because I believe it's a totally stupid taboo, and also for me it works as a fantastic stress reliever. I also love to turn to sex for the same reasons. And as I am gay, I think most would look upon sex then as an even bigger taboo. Their choice, but if all would focus on how many lives are, and have been destroyed by taboos, and abuse, even legally, officially, then people would understand what we actually all know. Restrictions will make even a child want to do whatever it applies to. And no, now I'm not saying legalize murder.

What I'm trying to say is if we would try to understand and accept each other as we are, and do the same with the world instead of over-analyzing and explaining without asking those concerned, the world could be a much better place. Then we could be much closer to reality, and to be able to accept it, thus feel safer.

Only if we could simply live and let others live, instead of being violent in a sofisticated or other way, or by setting up unwritten laws to make life a living hell for those who don't want to "go with the flow". It would make it so much easier for us all to be our real selves, instead of trying to be someone else than we are for someone else who wants us to be like that, in a made up world based on made up values.

Maybe then there would be a chance that we could live in a safe world. A world that we've been trying to change with false feelings and lies to ourselves and others, so long that we'd almost completely forgotten how it was really like.

Sunday, December 4, 2016

soul clinic

Waiting hours to get help at an emergency reveals people's hopes and frustration more than anything else. Okay, maybe not more than dreams, haha.

At the very moment I entered that run-down building with a corridor completely packed with people wearing bandages on their different body parts, I understood it would keep us busy for the rest of the evening. And so I was told by the woman sitting next to me when I unwittingly quipped they had surely sent me there as a punishment with my broken elbow.

Her hubby who came with her was a very talkative guy. As a matter of fact, after a while we all became like that when we realized we were not getting out of there very shortly with only one single doctor for like the thirty of us.

Anyway, while his wife finally were called in, he told me about a friend of theirs, a shaman who does this on the side, as he has a lucricious job, so he wouldn't accept money, unless you decide to give some to him, of course. He's also a big-Hungarian taking care of values. I wonder what that's supposed to mean. No, actually I don't...

Then later we talked with this woman whose daughter got an accomodation that seemed like luxury under the circumstances, with expert health care in Transylvania after having suffered a car accident there.

It seemed like the solution was always to be found far away, and yet we were all spending the evening there with all our miseries in body and soul.

Saturday, December 3, 2016

born to be alive

Got this clear moment yesterday when I was passing by the kids screaming in the school yard; that we are all the same as we used to be back then. We only change by age that we cannot control anyhow, and by appearance that we believe we can. But inside we're exactly the same person. Who else could we be? This is who we were born to be. This is our destiny.

I see people using tremendous effort and amount of time to become someone else. They would even stop to exist in case they were told that they failed. At least in their minds they do stop, and only go on living in their bodies. And so they're determined to fail from the very start.

Why? It's not just a fashion movement that takes over people's lives with all the vultures making money out of it. It's all the expectations from family, friends who all seem to know who you should be. But not how. Definitely not why. Maybe they want you to fulfil something they just don't seem to be able to do. There can be endless numbers of reasons. Though, if they cannot accept you just the way you are, it is much more their problem than yours.

Our whole western society is based on misgiven ideas about perfection, and changes. Look around where all the changes brought us to. And I hope now you're not mistaking me for someone who says we should have stopped in the stone age. Or that you are perfect with your laziness or hatred. No, and we all know I don't mean that. If you don't, don't waste your time reading this blog anymore.

It didn't all just start by consumerism to get all your money, and even your credits and loans, basically anything you'll ever earn in this life. It goes back through millenia when the abuse of self-bettering life concepts were looked upon as divine and therefore holy and unmistakable all the way up to our recent and present world of materialism just because we can't come up with anything better after having thrown away all other world views from us.

Now, you sure need to create the circumstances so you can live, and you need to make a living to do so. And as it says it's only circumstances, nothing else. So, what's wrong with being yourself and enjoying life when the job's done? If you don't feel comfortable as yourself, you definitely won't do so as someone else.

My advice is don't let any religion, science, bargain, system etc. that wants to change you, take over and control you. You were born to be yourself. Not by mistake.

Friday, December 2, 2016

Who are you?

I used to be pretty liberal for my little hometown. In my early twenties I had different colored hair, and since I was dying it myself it could look quite strange at times. And as I was dressing from second hand shops, I used to wear everything from black angora jacket to trapeze trousers. All this only at this age because in secondary you were not allowed to do it.

You could find me in blues pubs and at midnight performances in ruin factories, wherever something was going on. In the midst of all this I was also trying to find a partner which is rather normal at that age, I guess. My bad luck, so to say, is that I wanted to find another man. Simply because as long as I can remember I've always loved men the way some say a man should only love a woman.

Strange thing is you can get a bad reputation simply by being yourself. Like in a swamp, where you're being swallowed with every move you take. Though it didn't feel uncertain ground, the country was choking me. I mean the whole country.

The people who give in for nothing. For meeting the expectations of people who say they love them, and only want the best for them, instead of simply being who they are. How can someone seriously mean they love you, if they want you to be someone else?

Thursday, December 1, 2016

Dreams are made of...

...your fears and hopes, I believe. What a job for the brain to work on them. No wonder it all becomes as oblique as a film noir.

In one of these recent mind shows of mine I was offered a job where I should put some kind of ointment on myself to draw mosquitos. And though couldn't understand the point, I still accepted it together with some others waiting there for work. Then found myself in some kimd of swamp with beasts coming up from it, while the others at the interview would sit around observing, and telling me it was what I signed up for.

Looks like this guy I fell for at work, now started to haunt my dreams, too. In one I have a coffee or maybe work in a dvd rental place, and he'd come in, find some movies, then leave, showing no interest to stay there with me, when I'd try to talk to him.

In another one I obviously work at a butcher's, and am trying to slice up a sausage for him, but have to find another knife, as the one I'm using is not sharp enough. When I try that one, he's about to leave, seemingly having lost his patience.

Then there was this re-occuring one the night before about a huge bridge structure with some cabel transport system that as usual, I am hesitating to take for too long, and so the chance is gone. Though when I sometimes do it, would get lost in the middle of it all.

And yet another fear exploring one the night after, about looking down from the top of the stairs because I can hear some noise approach as the lights go out. When it's getting real close, and I can catch sight of something blurry that moves in a very strange way, there is a crazy laughter that I'm not sure whether it comes from there or within me. This last thing gives me the creeps even wide awake.

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

how to spell

Saw your stereotype in the tram stop as I looked up
He seemed just as unspecial as you from this angle
The only way I dare to look at you, from behind or aside
And yet he made me feel like you, for a moment or two

So as I believed him to be you, my pulse accelerated, too
You're holding me under your spell from who knows where
And this I can't understand, is this your doing then or myself
Who keeps this feeling alive after so much time so well