These are lonely years without end. Nothing is the theme of them.
Learning, of course remains, continues and insists.
But it now begs the question _ "to what end ?"
We hurtle towards the finishing line only to realize that it was just a mirror and that the path now now turns in on itself like the space between night and day or between control and chaos...like the space between two parallel mirrors and their infinite, maddening reflections.
Nothing is lost, nothing is gained - despite what the bank balance may say and inspite of them all ....inspite of the people.
People! Oh, these people - big people , little people, fat people and thin people. People in office and at home, in the streets and driving cars, selling, buying and being sold. People on television, people watching and breathing and licking and eating television. People watching TV to stay alive and people staying alive to watch TV. People in blankets and on pavements, people dying and people killing.
People... Oh, these people. In houses and villages and planets and trains. People inside the pages of books , inside cupboards, living in the walls , underground, underwater..people everywhere.People in my heart and people who won't get out of my head.
These voices and these eyes.This nauseating laughter and incessant presence.
And yet - I am alone even as they consume me. I am lonely without people.
Maybe all one needs is a person to call one's own.
Maybe all one needs is the sunlight to filter through his eyes and reflect his thoughts into the misty morning.
All one needs is to hold his hand while he changes gear and feels embarrassed
- to laugh nervously as his fingers get stuck in one's dreadlocks... to dream about living, swimming, dancing and being together.
Maybe all one needs is respect ; calls returned, messages replied to and truth told.
All I need is to somehow..anyhow just not feel so alone.
Learning, of course remains, continues and insists.
But it now begs the question _ "to what end ?"
We hurtle towards the finishing line only to realize that it was just a mirror and that the path now now turns in on itself like the space between night and day or between control and chaos...like the space between two parallel mirrors and their infinite, maddening reflections.
Nothing is lost, nothing is gained - despite what the bank balance may say and inspite of them all ....inspite of the people.
People! Oh, these people - big people , little people, fat people and thin people. People in office and at home, in the streets and driving cars, selling, buying and being sold. People on television, people watching and breathing and licking and eating television. People watching TV to stay alive and people staying alive to watch TV. People in blankets and on pavements, people dying and people killing.
People... Oh, these people. In houses and villages and planets and trains. People inside the pages of books , inside cupboards, living in the walls , underground, underwater..people everywhere.People in my heart and people who won't get out of my head.
These voices and these eyes.This nauseating laughter and incessant presence.
And yet - I am alone even as they consume me. I am lonely without people.
Maybe all one needs is a person to call one's own.
Maybe all one needs is the sunlight to filter through his eyes and reflect his thoughts into the misty morning.
All one needs is to hold his hand while he changes gear and feels embarrassed
- to laugh nervously as his fingers get stuck in one's dreadlocks... to dream about living, swimming, dancing and being together.
Maybe all one needs is respect ; calls returned, messages replied to and truth told.
All I need is to somehow..anyhow just not feel so alone.
my written words stand there, alone in the wilderness of thought, relicts that prove that once this was now. when my fingers typed letters into this machine - from seeing a letter on the typepad to it being pushed mechanically, issuing electronic impulses that were transformed into mathematical algorithms of 0100011´s into forming letters on a screen yet again. and there they stand but i move on. written words are nothing but a print that my mind left on some surface, taking on a life of their own, speaking their truth that once was mine but now it is not, now i am standing at a different point, yet again pressing my mind into this void, trying to put vowels and consonants and sounds together in a coherent way that i hope will appeal to rational thought as well as emotional perception, words not necessarily chosen because of their meaning but of how they sound and move together and how they look so pretty, ugly, spitting in your face. sometimes i think: there are too many people. so many people. your words agree with me. they are too many. how can i feel so alone then? the irony of someone who is known to have a big fat circle of friends and cordial acquaintances to be so lonely. to have such a hard time to actually be in contact when encountering someone. the difficulty of staying alive in someone else`s eyes. the presence that is overwhelming when i can´t find my own roots. they are swimming in some rotten soup of undigested remnants of my past. i thought i would propell forward and make huge leaps, of faith, of growth, of everything better. instead i stepped to the side and just watched everyone else drift or swim by. sometimes getting my feet wet, but mesmerized and mortified and glued to the side by the spectacle of all. then i have to turn my head and listen to a song (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ynnMnTu8adE&feature=autoplay&list=AL94UKMTqg-9A65G3QoQ78EcvDqlrKHB_Q&playnext=6) and breathe the loneliness in. i am looking for someone to guard my solitude. (http://www.verticalpool.com/rilke.html) and when i dance. when i dance.
ReplyDelete...sometimes I think that this endless watching, analyzing, observing and objectification of people that I engage in..that i somehow end up engaging in even unwillingly sometimes is just a game my ego invented.
ReplyDeletesometimes..however i find that voices ..such as yours, such a Rilke's echo my anguish or at least my sentiments. I find increasingly that marriage = love = lifelong companionship is a myth that our generation consistently and continuously explodes...
I find many who are bound by legal and other contracts to another are often even lonlier than those not bound.
I like how Rilke un-romanticizes the whole notion of love, "young love"..etc.. I like how he looks at love as an oppurtunity for evolution and hard work and deeply engaging practice.. this is exiting for me..this is what i look at and say - there is an extraordinary possibilty right there.
BUt at the moment..and for many moments now i have not known someone willing to look at it like this. essentially , we are cowards..either we don't want to invest like this and take risks.. or we don't want to admit that someone else seems to be calling a truth card in a way that one has not so far been able to do...so we dismiss the invitation to "ripen"..to be our "best possible self" and we tell ourselves those delicious lies - "I don't deserve you", "why does everything have to be too complicated with you?!"...or even better "I am overwhelmed by you".
I feel you ... how can one "have such a hard time to actually be in contact when encountering someone". In movement art and dance training we do something called contact improvisation - and this has taught me something. we start out finding a point of contact between two bodies and the challenge and moments of discovery reveal them selves in if we are at all able to stay in contact ..but not just touching..actually leaning in to each other, sharing and giving one's weight in such a way that if the other was to move away you could fall or totally loose balance. as long as the contact is maintained, is reversible, dynamic, not too one way (both equally participating in giving and taking weight ) and the two are totally involved in the relationship between the two bodies, rapid and even risky, as well as beautiful and surprising dances and be danced together..stillnesses can be experianced and reality somehow magically navigated through this realm of the body..through this extraordinary context of hypermanifestation of subtler questions and searches.
surrendering and recieveing, somehow, loosing onelself , not in the other really...but in the dance that is created when two beings share one center.. or one reason for moving, staying still and /or being.
... <3
ReplyDeletecontact improvisation! i am almost there!!! i have been surrounded by contact dancers lately... oh and yes i see the hot chocolate or chai in front of my inner eye that we d be sharing in an indepth conversation about these questions. but maybe we´d just dance.