I said 'Look'
you asked 'What'
I saw the fires
you meant the sunset
you stared at the rays
I gazed at the flares
you and I, amazed by the fiery colors
of the very same day
Sunday, July 31, 2011
a wordless world
the neurotic kid runs frantically
locked in between the four walls
his parents busy with drilling-hammering
every now and again in intervals
unable to enjoy the blessed moments of
silence; afraid of their own thoughts?
but not a single syllable you can hear
to leave their lips at all
only some inarticulated rolls of laughther,
if you can call it so
is it their imprisoned longing for the
discreet noises of nature?
their way to express what they're missing
in their false comfort
the thunder, the water, the birds and bees
where we all belong
a world with less words
locked in between the four walls
his parents busy with drilling-hammering
every now and again in intervals
unable to enjoy the blessed moments of
silence; afraid of their own thoughts?
but not a single syllable you can hear
to leave their lips at all
only some inarticulated rolls of laughther,
if you can call it so
is it their imprisoned longing for the
discreet noises of nature?
their way to express what they're missing
in their false comfort
the thunder, the water, the birds and bees
where we all belong
a world with less words
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
nonsense
It was early April or even before that when I was praying for sweet release. From what? Uncertainty of not seeing where my life was going, after losing a job again. But then later on it was the uncertainty at the new job where nobody wanted or as I see it now, simply couldn't explain to me what to do and how. Well, I've been unemployed for two months now once again, and feeling rather desperate in lack of answers for my applications.
But back then a few months ago, I remember I was thinking about the trees while looking at them on my way home, as they started to revive themselves by the road side after their long winter sleep. And that made me wonder why we humans have to rush through our lives like day flies. Why not give it a break now and then and start again when feeling ready for it. So often even those few hours spent with sleeping cannot give the gracious comfort of temporary oblivion.
In the meanwhile there were also many a bad thing happening here which I've tried to balance with some better ones. Even if the fleeting moments of happiness seemed to pass just like brief lives, leaving behind but more yearning for them. One day I got an email from a good old friend of mine, explaining to me that the lyric of a Finnish song I could still recall from almost thirty years ago, were just made up words. So they didn't have more to do with her mother tongue then my imagination that was trying to convince me when I first caught fragments of her language and believed I heard Hungarian for it sounded so similar to it.
Then a bit later I found out that one of my favorite songs, Vangelises Tales of the Future only sounded like Arabic, but it was a mere gibberish, a make-belief. Well I fell for it, and still love it. And it's much better this way around, then what I can see in the so-called real life, where we try to deceive each other when it comes to the serious issues like making a living, or living our lives and letting the others live their own. Not to mention the laws that are supposed to help in making it right if it goes wrong. Or the medical help which those working in that field swore for to save lives and give remedy to those in need. Instead it all seems like you can run around, turning to different authorities or in that case from one doctor to the other, and you get only rejected or in best case redirected. It just doesn't make sense...
But back then a few months ago, I remember I was thinking about the trees while looking at them on my way home, as they started to revive themselves by the road side after their long winter sleep. And that made me wonder why we humans have to rush through our lives like day flies. Why not give it a break now and then and start again when feeling ready for it. So often even those few hours spent with sleeping cannot give the gracious comfort of temporary oblivion.
In the meanwhile there were also many a bad thing happening here which I've tried to balance with some better ones. Even if the fleeting moments of happiness seemed to pass just like brief lives, leaving behind but more yearning for them. One day I got an email from a good old friend of mine, explaining to me that the lyric of a Finnish song I could still recall from almost thirty years ago, were just made up words. So they didn't have more to do with her mother tongue then my imagination that was trying to convince me when I first caught fragments of her language and believed I heard Hungarian for it sounded so similar to it.
Then a bit later I found out that one of my favorite songs, Vangelises Tales of the Future only sounded like Arabic, but it was a mere gibberish, a make-belief. Well I fell for it, and still love it. And it's much better this way around, then what I can see in the so-called real life, where we try to deceive each other when it comes to the serious issues like making a living, or living our lives and letting the others live their own. Not to mention the laws that are supposed to help in making it right if it goes wrong. Or the medical help which those working in that field swore for to save lives and give remedy to those in need. Instead it all seems like you can run around, turning to different authorities or in that case from one doctor to the other, and you get only rejected or in best case redirected. It just doesn't make sense...
Monday, March 7, 2011
we'd rather be scared together than alone
Yes, I've been listening to Hunky Dory recently. Visited an old friend after a long time, and she told me that her younger son, a mere toddler, chose this Bowie album from her collection. And he also liked most of it a lot, specially Kooks to which he used to sing and dance whenever he heard it.
I guess I chose this line as a title because I feel that troubles are rising. Not sure if the trouble is with me, more precisely that I don't want to face the trouble. I've just quit my job before my probation ended. Wouldn't think I'd do that but during the training we had in the U.K. there were more and more things pointing into that direction. Unsettled issues, questions nobody wanted to answer, but we badly needed those answers to be able to take over that job from them. I did hope even after we came back that our management would care more seeing there were no progress, but they didn't seem to bother at all. Not even when one of my colleagues from our already undersized team resigned.
Been recommended by a friend, a former colleague for a job, and had the interview last Friday. Another friend forwarded my resume to the company she's working for. So fingers crossed and good luck. Could also go back to the Employment Center as I'm still entitled for some support while I'm looking for jobs. And I do, searching the net, answering job ads, looking at companies' web sites for openings. At the same time, I'm not sure at all where I'm going. I know it's all for making a living, but it feels more and more useless on the long term and it's undermining my soul ruthlessly. It might be aging, too, that makes it feel worse than before, but I just know it's not me keeping office hours. But then I never had the time and the chance (money) to study what I like, writing, drawing, music. So how can it ever change when I barely have enough salary for living even when I do have a job.
I guess I chose this line as a title because I feel that troubles are rising. Not sure if the trouble is with me, more precisely that I don't want to face the trouble. I've just quit my job before my probation ended. Wouldn't think I'd do that but during the training we had in the U.K. there were more and more things pointing into that direction. Unsettled issues, questions nobody wanted to answer, but we badly needed those answers to be able to take over that job from them. I did hope even after we came back that our management would care more seeing there were no progress, but they didn't seem to bother at all. Not even when one of my colleagues from our already undersized team resigned.
Been recommended by a friend, a former colleague for a job, and had the interview last Friday. Another friend forwarded my resume to the company she's working for. So fingers crossed and good luck. Could also go back to the Employment Center as I'm still entitled for some support while I'm looking for jobs. And I do, searching the net, answering job ads, looking at companies' web sites for openings. At the same time, I'm not sure at all where I'm going. I know it's all for making a living, but it feels more and more useless on the long term and it's undermining my soul ruthlessly. It might be aging, too, that makes it feel worse than before, but I just know it's not me keeping office hours. But then I never had the time and the chance (money) to study what I like, writing, drawing, music. So how can it ever change when I barely have enough salary for living even when I do have a job.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Babel
Recently I've felt a lack of communication with anyone at all, family members, friends and colleagues. Even though made some new friends I don't feel I can trust them they way I need to do so that I can feel we're friends. And also it's the closest family members and friends I don't seem to get through when talking with them. Unfortunately or it's how it was supposed to be the big family, like aunts and uncles, and their kids, we didn't keep in touch ever since Granny died. Actually I can feel very lucky that my aunt on my father's side, who's his step-sister cares so much about me, while my dad just forgot both me and my brother.
But then this is something different, something very bad, that I'm experiencing these days, well, for a good while now - It's making me feel very upset, when we talk to each other, but it feels like two lines go parallel and never meet. I feel so helpless and very often get so angry that then it's preventing me to try and find the way to make myself understand. It could be such everyday issues, little daily nuances that used to take so little of effort to agree on. I stand numb for a few seconds and then just lose patience so fast whenever I have these useless conversations lately where a word wouldn't reach the others.
Now that I have a job again for a bit more than a month I can see these walls in between so many times. Especially between two of my colleagues, but then we only got new team members this week and the previous. So now that they're there it became obvious for me that they talk but wouldn't listen, not to me, not to each other, not even when it's a simple solution for a small thing.
It's so hard to accept the very fact that filters through all this - that there's no need for communication! People don't care if there's a solution, an answer to what they say, they just talk and wouldn't listen, even if they could find help in the answer. I'm not sure why. Maybe we've lost faith in the others, but we still feel the need to get rid of whatever on our minds. Or it can be blamed on the media that can only make you want things right now, but don't make you think why or if you really need any of it. I wonder where all this goes, and if it is still going anywhere.
But then this is something different, something very bad, that I'm experiencing these days, well, for a good while now - It's making me feel very upset, when we talk to each other, but it feels like two lines go parallel and never meet. I feel so helpless and very often get so angry that then it's preventing me to try and find the way to make myself understand. It could be such everyday issues, little daily nuances that used to take so little of effort to agree on. I stand numb for a few seconds and then just lose patience so fast whenever I have these useless conversations lately where a word wouldn't reach the others.
Now that I have a job again for a bit more than a month I can see these walls in between so many times. Especially between two of my colleagues, but then we only got new team members this week and the previous. So now that they're there it became obvious for me that they talk but wouldn't listen, not to me, not to each other, not even when it's a simple solution for a small thing.
It's so hard to accept the very fact that filters through all this - that there's no need for communication! People don't care if there's a solution, an answer to what they say, they just talk and wouldn't listen, even if they could find help in the answer. I'm not sure why. Maybe we've lost faith in the others, but we still feel the need to get rid of whatever on our minds. Or it can be blamed on the media that can only make you want things right now, but don't make you think why or if you really need any of it. I wonder where all this goes, and if it is still going anywhere.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Sunday, October 24, 2010
norske skog
Det var ikke den beste natten før det skjedde. Mor ble veldig syk om middagstid, og vi kunne ikke bestemme hva var det som gjorde det, eller hva var best å gjøre om det. Det var bare mer ironisk siden mor var på en såkalte helsedag hvor hun var sjekket for forskjellige helseproblemene tidligere i dagen. Resultatene var ikke bra, men de viste ikke noe problem med magen hennes som virket å gi henne en veldig vanskelig stund senere. Iallfall kunne hun sovne endelig. Og kanskje årsaken for at jeg hadde denne rare drømmen var ikke bare det at jeg leste en norsk bok, men også at jeg hadde fokus nok til å oppleve det mens jeg fortsatt å lese det.
Jeg kan ikke huske at jeg kjente det var faktisk en drøm mens jeg drømte. Kanskje det var for godt. Men da måtte jeg tenke litt til å forklare på norsk hva var det som skjedde, våknet jeg likevel. Usikkerhet? Ikke nok selvtillit? Iallfall reiste vi med buss i stor snø da kom bussen til stopp mens den prøvde å kjøre opp en bro. Vi var enda over land med taket under oss, da vi steig av og forsøkte å finne snarveien til jobben. Plutselig glidde vi ned på takene og samtidig prøvde å ikke falle ned. Etter at vi tok noen ganske severdige manøvrer, befant vi oss på en liten gård omringet av små trehus. Så gikk vi inn hva som virket et skur men det var faktisk et verksted.
Jeg tror at jeg forsto bare der at vi var i Norge. Så etter at jeg tenkte i noen minutter, begynte jeg å forklare til menneskene der hva var det som skjedde. Det virker morsomt nå å huske at jeg introduserte meg og sa at vi kom fra Ungarn. Viser det noe mer enn at jeg tenker på nye intervjuer hvor de kan sjekke min norsk? Jeg tror det. Uansett av hva var det som skjedde, vi hadde overlevd det og klarte å gå til å få hjelp og veiledning. Jeg kunne også snakke for oss med beboerne i et fremmedt land. Jeg tror det er et tegn av økende selvtillit med å snakke norsk og kanskje med å finne en ny jobb også.
Jeg kan ikke huske at jeg kjente det var faktisk en drøm mens jeg drømte. Kanskje det var for godt. Men da måtte jeg tenke litt til å forklare på norsk hva var det som skjedde, våknet jeg likevel. Usikkerhet? Ikke nok selvtillit? Iallfall reiste vi med buss i stor snø da kom bussen til stopp mens den prøvde å kjøre opp en bro. Vi var enda over land med taket under oss, da vi steig av og forsøkte å finne snarveien til jobben. Plutselig glidde vi ned på takene og samtidig prøvde å ikke falle ned. Etter at vi tok noen ganske severdige manøvrer, befant vi oss på en liten gård omringet av små trehus. Så gikk vi inn hva som virket et skur men det var faktisk et verksted.
Jeg tror at jeg forsto bare der at vi var i Norge. Så etter at jeg tenkte i noen minutter, begynte jeg å forklare til menneskene der hva var det som skjedde. Det virker morsomt nå å huske at jeg introduserte meg og sa at vi kom fra Ungarn. Viser det noe mer enn at jeg tenker på nye intervjuer hvor de kan sjekke min norsk? Jeg tror det. Uansett av hva var det som skjedde, vi hadde overlevd det og klarte å gå til å få hjelp og veiledning. Jeg kunne også snakke for oss med beboerne i et fremmedt land. Jeg tror det er et tegn av økende selvtillit med å snakke norsk og kanskje med å finne en ny jobb også.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Victory vs. Visitors
Found out last night that the old Jewish man in a movie whom I'd been thinking for many years now, says Shalom to the Nazis entering the room with machine guns, is actually talking to extraterrestrial invaders. The rest is correct but all this is happening in the TV series 'V' I saw as a kid. That face and scene had stuck with me without me remembering the circumstances it all took place under.
Though the story has a parallel to things that happened during the world wars, and I guess, not only by coincidence. It's about totalitarianism and how the propaganda, nice on the surface can completely deceive people's mind. Or in many cases make them fear so much those who they think are on power that they rather surrender and even give up those around them to save their own lives.
Also the glass containers with thousands of human bodies in them that resistance spies see on a spaceship have obviously affected scenes, for instance, in The Matrix where people were used as energy source the same way. On the other hand it resembles a lot of all that happened in concentration camps where creatures with a human appearance (I just wouldn't call them human) were collecting people and experimenting on them, thus causing them endless suffering and pain, and evidently killing many of them.
The visitors in this TV series also decide to use human shape and first behave friendly with the earthlings in public to reach their goal easier which is to get all the water from this planet, since they ran short of it. In 'Signs' the aliens who don't bother using a camouflage, come to harvest mankind and they can be destroyed by water. In 'The Man Who Fell to Earth' it's only one friendly and secretive alien who arrives to get back a whole lot of water for his deserting home, but is found out by Earth-men and through a series of experiments is made into one of us while his spaceship gets destroyed. I can also recall the Tommyknockers where the visitors take on the bodies of the locals to hide and to take over the place.
The queue is quite long, nevertheless the story goes about us all the time. How we abuse each other and the planet we live on. And in 'V' when they come to take this old Jewish man, he leaves his family with the message 'If we don't help each other, we haven't learned a thing'.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Norwegian Wood
It wasn't the best night before it all happened. Mom got very sick by dinner time, and we couldn't decide what might have caused it, or what would be best to do. It was just the more ironic since the same day she'd been to a so-called prevention day attending different kind of health checks, X-rays and so on. The results were not too good either, but didn't refer to any issue with her digestion that seemed to cause her a very hard time later on. However she could go to sleep in the end, and maybe my strange dream was caused by not only reading on in a Norwegian book, but also focusing on it enough to kind of living it while getting on with it.
In my dream I don't remember to have realized it that I was actually dreaming. Maybe that's a good sign. But then when I needed to think a little bit while explaining what happened in Norwegian, then I woke up... Uncertainty? Ikke nok selvtillit? Anyhow, we were traveling by bus in huge snow, when it had to stop while going up on a bridge. We were still above land with roofs below us when we got off, trying to find out how to get to work the soonest from there. All of a sudden we were sliding down the roofs, at the same time trying not to fall off. Then after a few quite impressive movements we were in amongst small wooden houses closing in on a little yard. So we stepped into what looked like a little shed and turned out to be a workshop.
There, and I think only there I've realized that we were in Norway, and so after a few moments thinking, started to explain to the men there what had happened. Funny to remember now that I introduced myself, and said we came from Hungary. Does this reveal more than just me thinking about new interviews where they might test my language skills? I do think so. No matter what happened we've survived and succeeded to get as far as asking for help and guidance. Also I could speak on our behalves with the locals in a foreign land. I take it as a sign for growing self-confidence when speaking Norwegian, and maybe in my job seeking, too.
In my dream I don't remember to have realized it that I was actually dreaming. Maybe that's a good sign. But then when I needed to think a little bit while explaining what happened in Norwegian, then I woke up... Uncertainty? Ikke nok selvtillit? Anyhow, we were traveling by bus in huge snow, when it had to stop while going up on a bridge. We were still above land with roofs below us when we got off, trying to find out how to get to work the soonest from there. All of a sudden we were sliding down the roofs, at the same time trying not to fall off. Then after a few quite impressive movements we were in amongst small wooden houses closing in on a little yard. So we stepped into what looked like a little shed and turned out to be a workshop.
There, and I think only there I've realized that we were in Norway, and so after a few moments thinking, started to explain to the men there what had happened. Funny to remember now that I introduced myself, and said we came from Hungary. Does this reveal more than just me thinking about new interviews where they might test my language skills? I do think so. No matter what happened we've survived and succeeded to get as far as asking for help and guidance. Also I could speak on our behalves with the locals in a foreign land. I take it as a sign for growing self-confidence when speaking Norwegian, and maybe in my job seeking, too.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
a liveable life is a pretense
Been a while now since I had that brainstorm right before I could fall asleep. Then it all came to me so clear to the smallest details, all my feelings and reasons. By now most of it got lost, only had a few thoughts jot down the next morning. It was about why I have started this blog, what was it I've been trying to express here. Since then I was very lucky to get in touch after long long years with friends who helped me a lot to talk about it, well about myself.
The blog itself changed, too. Not so dark, the header photo less horrible; hopefully reflecting my own feelings. I have also chosen a different title to it. Originally it bore a Ray Bradbury short story's. A time travel, but also a travel into the human soul, with its hopes and fears. What would you change if you had the chance. Specially if you could see the consequences beforehand. Not to mention, would that make it any better. I like a lot this kind of sci-fi; more like a study on us mankind and an opinion on our societies and achievements.
The site name resembled my job, referring to the many years dealing with computers at a multinational company; Man Eating Machine. At the same time it was a tribute to the Grace Jones song Corporate Cannibal she made with Brian Eno. A bow to both of them, as well as to their way of talking about the topic. It says it all about commercialism, empty lies and lives coming true through them. Inequalities in artificially created and regulated social systems lacking any sign of updating its views according to changes in it.
Whereas in technical self-developing systems the creators and rulers rely on the laws of nature. However the laws of economics and jurisdiction seem to be so far from that successful self-balancing world. Actually the law cannot help the one who needs it most. Eno put it as 'Culture is everything we don't have to do' but then we don't have to live like this either.We could act by nature not only in biotechnology, or the arts, but in the everyday life, even if it sounds idealistic.
I worked for 3 years at an IT service desk, most of all because it pays reasonable. It was not my dream job; answering 40-50 calls a day, documenting everything, while also trying to fix the issue within the shortest time. I don't think I'm a robot, but this job got me close to turn into one. One of the most frightening things was not the job though, but the feedback. Once a customer said 'hallo?!' after I introduced myself, following the official script, for the manieth time that day. So I asked if she could hear me at all - she thought I was an answering machine. I'm looking for something more human; a job where I can help people more directly, and go less into technical details. Of course, that's not easier at all, but very different.
Now my blog and me the writer are called the same name; heathen. It refers to what I'm thinking about most these days even if only subconsciously. All my searches and trials to live a life that makes me feel real. Something that reaches beyond a job to earn a living, things that have to be done a daily base. Also a solution and a help to prevent more mistakes. Instead a guidance I can trust because I believe it's coming from love and care.
The blog itself changed, too. Not so dark, the header photo less horrible; hopefully reflecting my own feelings. I have also chosen a different title to it. Originally it bore a Ray Bradbury short story's. A time travel, but also a travel into the human soul, with its hopes and fears. What would you change if you had the chance. Specially if you could see the consequences beforehand. Not to mention, would that make it any better. I like a lot this kind of sci-fi; more like a study on us mankind and an opinion on our societies and achievements.
The site name resembled my job, referring to the many years dealing with computers at a multinational company; Man Eating Machine. At the same time it was a tribute to the Grace Jones song Corporate Cannibal she made with Brian Eno. A bow to both of them, as well as to their way of talking about the topic. It says it all about commercialism, empty lies and lives coming true through them. Inequalities in artificially created and regulated social systems lacking any sign of updating its views according to changes in it.
Whereas in technical self-developing systems the creators and rulers rely on the laws of nature. However the laws of economics and jurisdiction seem to be so far from that successful self-balancing world. Actually the law cannot help the one who needs it most. Eno put it as 'Culture is everything we don't have to do' but then we don't have to live like this either.We could act by nature not only in biotechnology, or the arts, but in the everyday life, even if it sounds idealistic.
I worked for 3 years at an IT service desk, most of all because it pays reasonable. It was not my dream job; answering 40-50 calls a day, documenting everything, while also trying to fix the issue within the shortest time. I don't think I'm a robot, but this job got me close to turn into one. One of the most frightening things was not the job though, but the feedback. Once a customer said 'hallo?!' after I introduced myself, following the official script, for the manieth time that day. So I asked if she could hear me at all - she thought I was an answering machine. I'm looking for something more human; a job where I can help people more directly, and go less into technical details. Of course, that's not easier at all, but very different.
Now my blog and me the writer are called the same name; heathen. It refers to what I'm thinking about most these days even if only subconsciously. All my searches and trials to live a life that makes me feel real. Something that reaches beyond a job to earn a living, things that have to be done a daily base. Also a solution and a help to prevent more mistakes. Instead a guidance I can trust because I believe it's coming from love and care.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
in this lonely crowd it's always time
It is a funny feeling turning forty and realizing you have basically not changed a bit. But at least you can see it clear now.
...can you. I put the above down only a week ago or so, and then found a friend from fifteen years ago. So the next two paragraphs are quoting what I told her about myself, maybe as a conclusion of what I started to think about when writing here the first sentence. Also an afterthought of an evening what I spent with a new friend.
The most interesting in it all is to find that I'm not a bit different in the very ego, and I'm not sure if I wonder whether that's good or not. As it seems like that entity, myself, is developing in many different ways, or call it gathering experience, but still stays the same essence. And it is so very different in each and every person, but is sharing one thing: a yearning and searching for the ultimate answer that fills in all the missing parts.
I guess this is my way of looking for God in all the diverse communities and various religions; it's a never-ending story. And it is so, because I don't dare to look for the answer in myself. This is more or less how I felt last night on that Shabbat ceremony and the family-like dinner afterwards. I think, the reason is that I know exactly how serious it is to answer a call so overwhelming. In a way that holds me back from giving in, fearing I might lose all I have now. Even though I know I have nothing in the whole wide world, but this chance.
A few days ago I met a friend (after long enough time so she could have born a baby almost one year old now) who told me she loved her plants, so she wouldn't want to get rid of them when moving, and would rather give a key to her place to a neighbor so they could water them if she needed to go away for a while. Actually what stroke me was the way she put it. She said these were her plants she loved, so she wouldn't leave them there or sell them when she'd move, but would want to take them with her, wanted the same plants to be around at a new place, too.
I remember I've always wondered when heard that people gave name to their plants, if there was something wrong with me not being so attached to them. I loved plants and flowers, but for me they could be substituted. Their loss didn't mean much to me, no matter what way it happened. When the cat who moved in with us for seven years, had to go, it was certainly much harder. Still I tried to keep the event or the fact of his irreversible absence away from myself, instead keeping his memory alive and laugh at all the fun we had together. Much later when I settled some fish in a tank, mortality showed faster and in a more aggressive way. They used to attack each other now and then, and though I experimented with all the knowledge I could gain, to keep them there for the longest possible time, I didn't succeed very often.
I could go further and talk about friends, and also about how much I dared to show love, being afraid of becoming too vulnerable, so that I couldn't bare the consequences. Maybe that would sound strange to derive it from my relationships with other living things. However a friend I'm missing now, probably because she told me that she needed to tear out faraway friends from heart, she taught me to give away with love the most valuable things I had to people I thought I loved. For me books, talking to me as if letters from faraway friends, used to be of inestimable value. And I could learn to give them away, and if you'd think I could always find them again, some were really old or editions out of print. Anyhow, then it meant more to think of the stories in them, and specially why it was exactly that friend I had given them to.
I think this all goes back to how I turned from a wild child into a so-called introverted nerd at an early age. Could a flashback of a half empty home, a missing dad and brother lead to a feeling of such uncertainty of what's real and what's fantasy that one can relate then from then on, to everything in his life the same way. When searching for explanations, and finding the acceptable reasons hurt too much. I guess within the books and through them in other people's lives and sufferings I found a way to understand the reason why. I have also found much more valuable things, too, that helped to search further beyond what a family event would mean for me. So I daresay I'm glad I found more people to help me to see what could cause my dad to act like he did, for instance, when reading his mum's diary about the world war.
At the same time all that brings up even more questions about people in general, the reason that can turn us into something so empty that we can cause such feelings to each other. Why we need to act superior trying to prove something or because we all felt at one point abandoned and valueless. I believe understanding this, and what's more accepting it without anger, or becoming/feeling indifferent, but with love, is only possible by accepting the only one who could become superior to all by completely humiliating himself and letting himself be hurt by becoming totally abandoned of all love. And accepting such a limitless and unconditional love takes humility that can be only provided by someone who went through all this. Why does this sound scary to me.
Story Sample - The Lonely Crowd: A Study of the Changing American Character
...can you. I put the above down only a week ago or so, and then found a friend from fifteen years ago. So the next two paragraphs are quoting what I told her about myself, maybe as a conclusion of what I started to think about when writing here the first sentence. Also an afterthought of an evening what I spent with a new friend.
The most interesting in it all is to find that I'm not a bit different in the very ego, and I'm not sure if I wonder whether that's good or not. As it seems like that entity, myself, is developing in many different ways, or call it gathering experience, but still stays the same essence. And it is so very different in each and every person, but is sharing one thing: a yearning and searching for the ultimate answer that fills in all the missing parts.
I guess this is my way of looking for God in all the diverse communities and various religions; it's a never-ending story. And it is so, because I don't dare to look for the answer in myself. This is more or less how I felt last night on that Shabbat ceremony and the family-like dinner afterwards. I think, the reason is that I know exactly how serious it is to answer a call so overwhelming. In a way that holds me back from giving in, fearing I might lose all I have now. Even though I know I have nothing in the whole wide world, but this chance.
A few days ago I met a friend (after long enough time so she could have born a baby almost one year old now) who told me she loved her plants, so she wouldn't want to get rid of them when moving, and would rather give a key to her place to a neighbor so they could water them if she needed to go away for a while. Actually what stroke me was the way she put it. She said these were her plants she loved, so she wouldn't leave them there or sell them when she'd move, but would want to take them with her, wanted the same plants to be around at a new place, too.
I remember I've always wondered when heard that people gave name to their plants, if there was something wrong with me not being so attached to them. I loved plants and flowers, but for me they could be substituted. Their loss didn't mean much to me, no matter what way it happened. When the cat who moved in with us for seven years, had to go, it was certainly much harder. Still I tried to keep the event or the fact of his irreversible absence away from myself, instead keeping his memory alive and laugh at all the fun we had together. Much later when I settled some fish in a tank, mortality showed faster and in a more aggressive way. They used to attack each other now and then, and though I experimented with all the knowledge I could gain, to keep them there for the longest possible time, I didn't succeed very often.
I could go further and talk about friends, and also about how much I dared to show love, being afraid of becoming too vulnerable, so that I couldn't bare the consequences. Maybe that would sound strange to derive it from my relationships with other living things. However a friend I'm missing now, probably because she told me that she needed to tear out faraway friends from heart, she taught me to give away with love the most valuable things I had to people I thought I loved. For me books, talking to me as if letters from faraway friends, used to be of inestimable value. And I could learn to give them away, and if you'd think I could always find them again, some were really old or editions out of print. Anyhow, then it meant more to think of the stories in them, and specially why it was exactly that friend I had given them to.
I think this all goes back to how I turned from a wild child into a so-called introverted nerd at an early age. Could a flashback of a half empty home, a missing dad and brother lead to a feeling of such uncertainty of what's real and what's fantasy that one can relate then from then on, to everything in his life the same way. When searching for explanations, and finding the acceptable reasons hurt too much. I guess within the books and through them in other people's lives and sufferings I found a way to understand the reason why. I have also found much more valuable things, too, that helped to search further beyond what a family event would mean for me. So I daresay I'm glad I found more people to help me to see what could cause my dad to act like he did, for instance, when reading his mum's diary about the world war.
At the same time all that brings up even more questions about people in general, the reason that can turn us into something so empty that we can cause such feelings to each other. Why we need to act superior trying to prove something or because we all felt at one point abandoned and valueless. I believe understanding this, and what's more accepting it without anger, or becoming/feeling indifferent, but with love, is only possible by accepting the only one who could become superior to all by completely humiliating himself and letting himself be hurt by becoming totally abandoned of all love. And accepting such a limitless and unconditional love takes humility that can be only provided by someone who went through all this. Why does this sound scary to me.
Story Sample - The Lonely Crowd: A Study of the Changing American Character
Silver Screen - Provenance & Providence (The X-files, Season 9)
Song Selection - David Bowie: New Angels of Promise
Song Selection - David Bowie: New Angels of Promise
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Lion City
I was offered an exceptional chance to go for a business trip to Singapore, for the invitation of our customer to train their new resources who takes over our job. Of course, I accepted it, though it was a very tight schedule: I arrived late Sunday night, and left next Friday night. However I was still hoping to make it a tourist visit in the evenings. The offices were very close to the airport, just one station from it with the MRT, the monorail train. Here you see the Spaceship Enterprise-looking roof above the station. No, it's not me trying to look like Grace Jones with her extreme hat wear. To the right it's the huge building of the Expo with constant sales offering 50% bargain on even high-quality electronic products.
The Quincy hotel where I stayed at was a 1-hour train ride from work. So I spent a lot of time traveling in between each day, and felt like getting back from work to my room for a shower and to change clothes. As the country is almost by the Equator, and surrounded by the ocean the temperature is always close to 30°C, and the air is very humid. One day I took my shorts and a T-shirt with me to work, so that I could change there, and make it faster to head for sightseeing. Unfortunately the monsoon-like rain started in the afternoon, and went on into the evening. This is Quincy.
I haven't bothered to take any pics of it. Might be so because we had some misunderstanding about settling the bill. When I checked in after a 16-hours flight, I told the receptionist this was a business trip and the company paid for the room. When I showed her the confirmation number she told me they had booked the room through a web site, but had not paid for it. So I had to give her my own bank card to be able to check in. The next day I told about this to the company, and then the whole week was spent chasing my own money which was kept as deposit by the hotel. It is actually still not released, as for some reason, they waited for me to check out, and only then put the deposit on the card the company provided them on my second day there.
This is Esplanade Art Center with different cultural events each day; theater plays, movies, exhibitions, dance shows from all over the world. The roof (once again something extravagant) forms two halves of the local durian fruit. The company made sure on my last night that I got to see something of the city, and took me to the Marina Bay, one of the most famous sights. This is where Esplanade is located along with many other important places, and breathtaking architectural wonders. The newest one is the Sands Hotel offering luxury accommodation, shopping, dining, world class entertainment, and casinos. The whole place is built by an amazing design, the towers forming waves and supporting an enormous ark with palm tree avenues on it.
We spent the dinner open-air right by the bay, so we had a view on the gorgeous Sands Hotel, and all the skyscrapers on the other side. The cuisine is just as mixed as the population bringing here their culture and food, and sharing it all in their new home. We could choose from Chinese, Thai, Indonesian and Indian; different kinds of sea food, vegetarian and also Western food by which they meant Mexican at some places. Anyhow we had marinated crispy chicken wings in soy sauce served with mixed rice, some beef and chicken BBQ with a variety of dips, devil fish (or similar to that) pieces roasted and served on bamboo bed covered in some very spicy sauce, and shrimps in cereal coat. Oh and don't forget the local Tiger Beer! :-D
I really loved that the streets were kept clean, you felt safe even late at night in any parts of the city. It takes a strict government to fine even people spitting chewing gums in the street, but it works. The locals and also those like most of my trainees, who just moved there, were very open and friendly. Tax is very low, and the economy is growing full speed. Public transportation and food is very cheap, and the MRT is built to take you basically anywhere in the city. I would definitely go back if I'll ever have the chance again, but next time as a tourist spending my whole day discovering the place.
The Quincy hotel where I stayed at was a 1-hour train ride from work. So I spent a lot of time traveling in between each day, and felt like getting back from work to my room for a shower and to change clothes. As the country is almost by the Equator, and surrounded by the ocean the temperature is always close to 30°C, and the air is very humid. One day I took my shorts and a T-shirt with me to work, so that I could change there, and make it faster to head for sightseeing. Unfortunately the monsoon-like rain started in the afternoon, and went on into the evening. This is Quincy.
I haven't bothered to take any pics of it. Might be so because we had some misunderstanding about settling the bill. When I checked in after a 16-hours flight, I told the receptionist this was a business trip and the company paid for the room. When I showed her the confirmation number she told me they had booked the room through a web site, but had not paid for it. So I had to give her my own bank card to be able to check in. The next day I told about this to the company, and then the whole week was spent chasing my own money which was kept as deposit by the hotel. It is actually still not released, as for some reason, they waited for me to check out, and only then put the deposit on the card the company provided them on my second day there.
This is Esplanade Art Center with different cultural events each day; theater plays, movies, exhibitions, dance shows from all over the world. The roof (once again something extravagant) forms two halves of the local durian fruit. The company made sure on my last night that I got to see something of the city, and took me to the Marina Bay, one of the most famous sights. This is where Esplanade is located along with many other important places, and breathtaking architectural wonders. The newest one is the Sands Hotel offering luxury accommodation, shopping, dining, world class entertainment, and casinos. The whole place is built by an amazing design, the towers forming waves and supporting an enormous ark with palm tree avenues on it.
We spent the dinner open-air right by the bay, so we had a view on the gorgeous Sands Hotel, and all the skyscrapers on the other side. The cuisine is just as mixed as the population bringing here their culture and food, and sharing it all in their new home. We could choose from Chinese, Thai, Indonesian and Indian; different kinds of sea food, vegetarian and also Western food by which they meant Mexican at some places. Anyhow we had marinated crispy chicken wings in soy sauce served with mixed rice, some beef and chicken BBQ with a variety of dips, devil fish (or similar to that) pieces roasted and served on bamboo bed covered in some very spicy sauce, and shrimps in cereal coat. Oh and don't forget the local Tiger Beer! :-D
I really loved that the streets were kept clean, you felt safe even late at night in any parts of the city. It takes a strict government to fine even people spitting chewing gums in the street, but it works. The locals and also those like most of my trainees, who just moved there, were very open and friendly. Tax is very low, and the economy is growing full speed. Public transportation and food is very cheap, and the MRT is built to take you basically anywhere in the city. I would definitely go back if I'll ever have the chance again, but next time as a tourist spending my whole day discovering the place.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Starlight, Moonlight
There at the very edge
where all your hopes lay
there you get a glance at the past
of unthinkable distances
And so you become the future
for all of them who came to see
so curious and trustful
from faraway galaxies
Story Sample -
where all your hopes lay
there you get a glance at the past
of unthinkable distances
And so you become the future
for all of them who came to see
so curious and trustful
from faraway galaxies
Story Sample -
Silver Screen - Sein und Zeit (The X-files, Season 7)
Song Selection - Harold Budd & Brian Eno: Not Yet Remembered
Song Selection - Harold Budd & Brian Eno: Not Yet Remembered
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Fjelltur
Hjembyen min ligger på et flat land. Det er ingen fjell der og ingen sjø heller. Så begge dele har vært og skal alltid blir noe uvanlig, ubegripelig og vidunderlig for meg. Jeg har reist til mange steder i verden og likte best å være ved havet. Der føler jeg så rolig og samtidig vil jeg dra borte på vaiene. Jeg blir nyskjerrig hva ligger der over vannet, men jeg blir også rolig når jeg ser på det endeløs vannet. Kanskje på denne grunnen ble jeg mer fortryllet av store vann enn av fjell. Men det kunne være sånt fordi jeg hadde ikke vært i høye fjell tidligere. Jeg pleide gå på fjelltur i området rundt Budapest og noen ganger i Mátra og Mecsek.
I fjor sommer var jeg på besøk hos en venn i Bergen. Sammen tok vi toget til Upsete, en fjellbygde hvor vi leide en hytte. I området gikk vi på fjelltur, selv om været skiftet ganske ofte og det regnet hver eneste dag. Vanligvis kunne vi gå rundt ett av fjellene i nærheten av hytta hver dag. Men en dag var det bare opp og ned et fjell. Det varte meget langt sånt også. Jeg husker at vi fulgte en bekk og vi kunne ikke bestemme at vi skulle krysse den eller fortsette på den samme siden. Småblomster og andre vakre detaljer engasjerte oss også mange ganger.
Etter vi gikk over massevis av motbakker, sto vi ved siden av et stort vann. Det var islagte enda i ende av juli, det lå så høyt. Det straktes lang mellom fjelltopper og vi kunne ikke se hvor stiene svang frem. På himmelen så vi noen mørke skyer komme, og det ble sent også. Likevel snudde vi, siden det var umulig å finne ut hvilken retning vi skulle fortsette fram. Da gikk vi rett ned i den samme dalen hvor vi hadde kommet opp fra. Når vi så opp mot fjell, fikk vi øye på tykk tåk som kom ned plutselig. Var vi opp der enda, kunne vi ikke se ingenting og finne tråkket ned heller. Til slutt fant vi veien tilbake til hytta i regnet som startet rett da.
Iallfall jeg skal alltid huske denne usikkerhet som jeg følte når vi var opp der ved siden av det islagte vannet. Det så hemmelighetsfult og farlig ut og samtidig som om det innbød oss å oppdage hva finntes rundt det. Jeg så på alle retninger da vi sto der og plutselig forsto at vi kunne lett blitt mistet, gikk vi bare tilfeldig noe retning. Og senere hvis vi prøvde å fortsette i tåket og måtte finne veien ut, hadde det blitt kanskje altfor vanskelig. Jeg vet jo at min venn er veldig god ved å gå i fjellene, fordi han vokset opp i et slikt området. Allikevel var jeg sikkert veldig glad å gå nedover i dalen bort fra tåket og miste sjanse for dette eventyret.
I fjor sommer var jeg på besøk hos en venn i Bergen. Sammen tok vi toget til Upsete, en fjellbygde hvor vi leide en hytte. I området gikk vi på fjelltur, selv om været skiftet ganske ofte og det regnet hver eneste dag. Vanligvis kunne vi gå rundt ett av fjellene i nærheten av hytta hver dag. Men en dag var det bare opp og ned et fjell. Det varte meget langt sånt også. Jeg husker at vi fulgte en bekk og vi kunne ikke bestemme at vi skulle krysse den eller fortsette på den samme siden. Småblomster og andre vakre detaljer engasjerte oss også mange ganger.
Etter vi gikk over massevis av motbakker, sto vi ved siden av et stort vann. Det var islagte enda i ende av juli, det lå så høyt. Det straktes lang mellom fjelltopper og vi kunne ikke se hvor stiene svang frem. På himmelen så vi noen mørke skyer komme, og det ble sent også. Likevel snudde vi, siden det var umulig å finne ut hvilken retning vi skulle fortsette fram. Da gikk vi rett ned i den samme dalen hvor vi hadde kommet opp fra. Når vi så opp mot fjell, fikk vi øye på tykk tåk som kom ned plutselig. Var vi opp der enda, kunne vi ikke se ingenting og finne tråkket ned heller. Til slutt fant vi veien tilbake til hytta i regnet som startet rett da.
Iallfall jeg skal alltid huske denne usikkerhet som jeg følte når vi var opp der ved siden av det islagte vannet. Det så hemmelighetsfult og farlig ut og samtidig som om det innbød oss å oppdage hva finntes rundt det. Jeg så på alle retninger da vi sto der og plutselig forsto at vi kunne lett blitt mistet, gikk vi bare tilfeldig noe retning. Og senere hvis vi prøvde å fortsette i tåket og måtte finne veien ut, hadde det blitt kanskje altfor vanskelig. Jeg vet jo at min venn er veldig god ved å gå i fjellene, fordi han vokset opp i et slikt området. Allikevel var jeg sikkert veldig glad å gå nedover i dalen bort fra tåket og miste sjanse for dette eventyret.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Qu'ran
Dette er navnet på de helige skriftene i islam, på engelsk. Jeg vil skrive om en sang med den samme tittelen. Det er fra en plate laget på den samme måten som noen sanger på min favorittplate Low. Brian Eno hjalp med verkene på Low mens David Bowie (komponist til Low) var optatt med personlige saker. Det skjedde så at en dag når Eno var alene i studio, brukte han en lite del av piano spill. Faktisk det var den lille sønnen til manageren, som klimpret der, på instrumentet. Stykken da ble brukt som grunnlag for en hele sang. Det hørtes ganske eksperimentelt ut og Eno trodde at det kunne bli brukt som en instrumental del på albumet. Derimot når Bowie kom tilbaket, sang han noen ord i tillegg, som ikke var på et ekte språk. Men det passet veldig bra med melodien, så ble det brukt, og sangen ble særlig populær og brukt i mange dokumentarfilmer.
Noen år senere jobbte Eno med David Byrne fra bandet Talking Heads, som Eno hadde samarbeidet med før. Da brukte de denne teknikken igjen i studio, bare omvendt. De fant religiøse sanger og radioprogrammer fra forkjellige land, og etterpå lagte de musikk til dem. Sangene ble valgt fra album lagt i tidligere år, noen av dem var afrikanske gospler, og andre var tatt fra arabiske sangerer. Tittelen til albumet kommer fra en roman av Amos Tutuola, nigeriansk forfatter. My Life in the Bush of Ghosts (Mitt liv i åndenes skog) handler om en gutt som opplever utrolige eventyr i åndeverden, mens han forsøker å unngå fra slavehandlere. På en sang brukte Eno og Byrne lyden av muslimene som leste fra Koran.
Jeg hadde mitt første eventyret i den muslimske verden omtrent femten år før, da besøkte jeg broren min i Eilat, Israel, og sammen krysset vi gransen til Egypt. Vi fant en sjåfør på den andre siden, som kjørte oss gjennom ørkenen ned til en by ved det Røde Hav. Vi har reist en god stund, og det begynnte å skumre, da stoppte føreren plutselig, steg av bilen og åpnet motortoppen. Ingen snakket for noen minutter, og jeg ble sikker at vi kunne ikke fortsette. Broren min kikket ut av bilvinduet og sa til meg ’Det er Ramadan. Nå spiser de bare når de kan se på den første stjernen på himmelen.’
Ti år senere jobbte jeg i Tel-Aviv, og nesten hver fredag spaserte jeg langs kysten til Middelhavet etter jobb. Jeg likte best å gå til den gamle bydelen, Jaffa. Der kjøpte jeg en stor kopp iskaffe, satt ned i skyggen til trærne, og leste eller bare sa bort over havet. Det var i nærheten av en moské, som fintes bare noen skritt borte fra favorittplassen min. Det var skrevet ved døren at denne var samlingplassen for muslimene for å lese Koran. Da begynnte muezzinen å synge, løpte alle kattene som gikk der i alle retninger plutselig. Men det gjorde jeg ikke. Det minte meg på denne sangen, Qu'ran.
Jeg hørte sangen første gang når jeg begynnte å samle plater og kjøpte den opprinnelige versjonen med Qu'ran på. Sangen måtte ble flyttet fra albumet fordi det er mot islam til å ha musikk i bakgrunnen når de leser fra Koranen. Så noen år senere når jeg fikk tak i CD-versjonen, ble jeg veldig overrasket og trist til å finne ut at det ikke inneholdt sangen. Jeg hørte den opprinnelige sangen også. Faktisk det var ikke en sang som vi tenker på det, men muslimene messer vers fra Koranen. De gjør det på en så taktfastlige måte at det høres ut egentlig som en sang med sin egen melodi. Da Eno og Byrne lagte passende musikk til det. Jeg mener at Qu'ran viser hvordan to ganske forkjellige opprinnelser kan bli brukt sammen så bra i musikk, derfor ble det en av mine favorittsangene.
Noen år senere jobbte Eno med David Byrne fra bandet Talking Heads, som Eno hadde samarbeidet med før. Da brukte de denne teknikken igjen i studio, bare omvendt. De fant religiøse sanger og radioprogrammer fra forkjellige land, og etterpå lagte de musikk til dem. Sangene ble valgt fra album lagt i tidligere år, noen av dem var afrikanske gospler, og andre var tatt fra arabiske sangerer. Tittelen til albumet kommer fra en roman av Amos Tutuola, nigeriansk forfatter. My Life in the Bush of Ghosts (Mitt liv i åndenes skog) handler om en gutt som opplever utrolige eventyr i åndeverden, mens han forsøker å unngå fra slavehandlere. På en sang brukte Eno og Byrne lyden av muslimene som leste fra Koran.
Jeg hadde mitt første eventyret i den muslimske verden omtrent femten år før, da besøkte jeg broren min i Eilat, Israel, og sammen krysset vi gransen til Egypt. Vi fant en sjåfør på den andre siden, som kjørte oss gjennom ørkenen ned til en by ved det Røde Hav. Vi har reist en god stund, og det begynnte å skumre, da stoppte føreren plutselig, steg av bilen og åpnet motortoppen. Ingen snakket for noen minutter, og jeg ble sikker at vi kunne ikke fortsette. Broren min kikket ut av bilvinduet og sa til meg ’Det er Ramadan. Nå spiser de bare når de kan se på den første stjernen på himmelen.’
Ti år senere jobbte jeg i Tel-Aviv, og nesten hver fredag spaserte jeg langs kysten til Middelhavet etter jobb. Jeg likte best å gå til den gamle bydelen, Jaffa. Der kjøpte jeg en stor kopp iskaffe, satt ned i skyggen til trærne, og leste eller bare sa bort over havet. Det var i nærheten av en moské, som fintes bare noen skritt borte fra favorittplassen min. Det var skrevet ved døren at denne var samlingplassen for muslimene for å lese Koran. Da begynnte muezzinen å synge, løpte alle kattene som gikk der i alle retninger plutselig. Men det gjorde jeg ikke. Det minte meg på denne sangen, Qu'ran.
Jeg hørte sangen første gang når jeg begynnte å samle plater og kjøpte den opprinnelige versjonen med Qu'ran på. Sangen måtte ble flyttet fra albumet fordi det er mot islam til å ha musikk i bakgrunnen når de leser fra Koranen. Så noen år senere når jeg fikk tak i CD-versjonen, ble jeg veldig overrasket og trist til å finne ut at det ikke inneholdt sangen. Jeg hørte den opprinnelige sangen også. Faktisk det var ikke en sang som vi tenker på det, men muslimene messer vers fra Koranen. De gjør det på en så taktfastlige måte at det høres ut egentlig som en sang med sin egen melodi. Da Eno og Byrne lagte passende musikk til det. Jeg mener at Qu'ran viser hvordan to ganske forkjellige opprinnelser kan bli brukt sammen så bra i musikk, derfor ble det en av mine favorittsangene.
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