A year coming to its close

The forgotten ornaments of Christmas are still hanging over my window. It's getting dark outside, and the days between Christmas and the end of the year are passing slowly by. The events of the year have made the time in the between to pass so fast that it has been difficult to keep track of it. My sad existence may have found a purpose now. It's funny how those little things that mostly go unnoticed can actually make a difference once you pay attention to them. It's true that the more you want to find the more difficult it gets to make a sense out of it all. And in the end it's the simple presence of a person that can change everything in the world.

As I find myself feeling upset because of the bygone Christmas I realize once again that I have let the misery of the world to cover everything else. Once I was there but I don't want to go there again. It is a terrifying moment to find yourself stuck in between the not-anymore and the not-yet, without realizing that it is all you have and all you ever will have. It does not matter what you have been or what you will become; what matters is what you will make out of yourself in the between. A continuance of the moments; not a perfect one, but one that makes sense.

Life is a sad and lonely path, but it is so much easier to walk through after you have realized the catch. Then you can find your way home. IT's never easy, but it shold not be. And a presence of a loved one can make it all worth it in the end. One Christmas has gone once again. This year has been a fascinating one. There is much to look forward to for the following one, but one can never tell how things will turn out. I have finally found my being-for-the-other. To make sense. To forget. To forgive.

Thoughts of an ex-suicide candidate

Beautiful soft melodies of the winter carry me through the twilight of the noon. A moment transforms itself into another one as I define my existence in the flow of the being. The moment I have been waiting for is finally so close I can almost feel it. However, my thoughts about the continuance of the events leading to the final cut have changed, and now I look forward feeling nothing but excitement, not knowing what will come or what will happen. The news of the morning have once again made me to re-define my stance towards the world, towards the thoughts I once cherished; my thoughts about the final cut. A nice little walk outside gives me something else to think for a while. I feel the cold breeze of winter on my face. The coldness and the snow embrace me, and all the colors and white, blue, and grey reveal themselves to me as I remeber the bygone days of the earlier times.
My empty home greets me.
I have forgotten how to write.
Too much time has passed since the last time I wrote.
The words have escaped, and I cannot define the moment,
or my thoughts of it.
My piano leans forgotten and alone against the wall.
I'm sorry my old friend,
too much time have passed since the last time I cherished your keys,
and let the melodies burst out of you.
My heart so busy,
confused and scared,
yet now knowing the direction where to go.
And I let the same tune ring over and over again,
the tune of sanity in this utterly insane world.
A little, beautiful piece of inspiration strikes me at this silent saturday afternoon.
Thank you for writing such beautiful words, once again.
A descrption of a feeling.
I hope you are feeling alright, my unknown friend,
yet I'm also sorry for doing the same thing as you,
my friend of misery,
and soul.

I open my eyes, and I decide to get up and face the day. My being-for-myself is collapsing with my being-for-the-other, but I wont let that bother me now.  Or maybe they are the same thing after all. I don't know; and now I don't feel like finding it out. Just make it worth it, and in the end it's nothing but love...

  

Winter Dreams

Silence. The moment has captured me. I sit alone, surrounded by empty furniture, longing for something I cannot grasp. A year approaching its end. Another flow of time flashing between the two unknown ends. An end of a beginning of an end of a beginning. It is very hard to imagine my life two years ago. Too much has changed to make a decent account of my feelings. I was lost somewhere between despair and utter hopelesness. Now I can understand that it all was an experience, something that I had to go through in order to see the world as it is. A long path of failures and misfortunes and lost opportunities has built me as I am today, realizing now that the feeling of nothingness is simply a step towards the end. Once I thought that love was there for me and it felt so real, but it was nothing; an imagination of the world I had created, an unreal phenomenon. Now everything is different, however.

A very beautiful image of winter reveals itself to me through the window in the twilight of this blissful morning. Serenity. Bliss. As if nothing could disturb me at this moment, waiting for my love to arrive once again in the evening. Oh, how much I cherish the beauty of the whiteness of the winter, and how many beautifuk thoughts it brings to me. 

My love is dedicated to all of you out there who feel alone, beat, and without love. I have gone through all the feelings of annihiliation and self-destruction  and nothingness, and now I know that they are simply reflections of life too complicated to understand. The identity of the self is built through the experiences of life and how one responds to them. Despair is simply the other side of hope and love. A moment will always lead to another one. It is not what happens; it is what you will make out of it. Sadness will inspire; nothingness can complete; self-destruction may lead to a beautiful poetry. The irrational flow of time is not important; what matters is that you will hang on and make a sense of it all. The realization of the self is the moment of realizing the insignificance of the being. All will come to an end, and in the end its nothing but love. I let myself drown into the moment..I close my eyes, once again...

The Last Leafs of Autumn

The sweet breeze of serenity flows through me as I sit on my couch, experiencing the calm, blissful moment in the twilight of noon. I have been gone for a while. I have changed; I think I have finally found what I was looking for, but I have not forgotten my past or the thoughts of existence I cherished for so long. So many years I spent struggling against the agony of waiting. Now, when so many things have changed, I look back to the time of desperation with a slight feeling of longing, yet being aware of how much better things now are. I realize now that there can be no desperation without hope. Yes my beloved transcendental reader, the hope was there all the time even though I was not aware of it. The serenity has numbed my thoughts. I do not have much to say. I think I need some more time to sort out my thoughts. Maybe one day I'll be able to explain the purpose of being to everybody. Meanwhile, I sit on my couch and watch through the window as the last leafs of autumn are falling to the ground. It's not long until the winter arrives, I think to myself, and I close my eyes...

Somedays

I think I'll never understand human existence. Once it opens like an ocean with an endless view and countless of directions to go. But then, year by year, day by day, it gets you down, weights like hell, pushing you down to the lowest of the lowest points. And it seems like all hope is gone and there is no reason to go on anymore but the pleasure of not telling people how bad you actually feel and simpy letting them sense your misery. Everything seems so dark, and only loneliness keeps you company. Why we reach this point I can't understand. I don't know why I quit struggling; thought that there was no reason to try anymore. Life really works in mysterious ways. At the point of all the self-loathe, annihilation, agony, misery, loneliness, and despair, it suddenly strikes you. And when you finally see the beauty of the existence you realize once again, that life is like an ocean; an endless view and countless of directions to go. Sometimes it just takes something unusual to happen. Something unpredictable. A chance and everything can change. I guess you'll have to reach the bottom to realize that there is only one direction to go.

At the most fundamental level life is pain and misery; it is just that we'll have to find a way to make the misery worth it. "oh Sire, I'm in love with your daughter!" You'll have to find a river at which you can sit and feel the flow of life going through you. Alone or with someone. And the river will let you know. Realize that it is the absurd irrationality that is the reason of it all. The simple fact that life is meaningless will help you find a meaning. Make some sense into this insanity and maybe someday just might be your day after all.

The dilemma of the being

Summer makes everything so green. I find myself somewhere between dreaming and doing, which makes me to think about the meaning of the present time. There's not much to say. Recently I have not have much time to think or write. I enjoy the short vacation I'm having which is so much better than the one a yeag ago. Things have changed, indeed. The beginning of the path that leads to the solution of the dilemma of the being is in the realization to not to care so much. To solve the dilemma one has to find the balance between the moment and the being. The being-of-the-self does not reveal itself in the flash of the moment, but to contemplate too much on the dilemma leads one to lose the sight of the continuance of the flashes. I think that the miseries of life have taught me a valuable lesson I could not have learned without all the disappointments and failures. Maybe it was worth it all the time after all. I see the dark clouds in the horizon. Meanwhile the sun shines brightly through the green trees. Could I have found the beginnng of the path? I have already wasted enough time. Thank you dear reader. Thank you my beloved one. The dilemma is still unresolved, but I couldn't care for it right now. It's time to go outside.

The world behind the window

Morning. Waking up in the arms of a dream. The first rays of the new rising sun caresses my head. The moment. My thoughts of it. The world flows around me. Memories of the week seem so distant. The beginning of the summer. The beginning of a new era. To forget, to forgive. To forgive myself. And the rest is silence.

I used to be a little boy. I used to be many things. Do the things I used to be describe me as I am today? I began to write because I have decided to put an end to it all. What can I say now? Have I become that which I am not? What have I become? The existence of a man is what it is not and is not what it is. Hence, what I used to be was what I was not, and I was not what I was. I never achieved what I was supposed to. To forgive. And the rest is bliss.

It took me the whole morning to define my thoughts, and I defined nothing. Maybe emptiness is what describes my thoughts at the moment. I have spent another noon watching the world outside my window, the world that now appears to me very differently than a year ago. I cherish the beauty of the unknown future. With excitement I look at what is about to come. Maybe I was not supposed to become a writer after all. The weight of the misery of life is so much easier to carry when it can be shared with someone. To forgive. And the rest is love.

Days like these

Another week has gone. Silently but quickly these days flow behind me, leaving nothing but fragmented memories to remember them by. Even if I did not get all those things done during the week I was supposed to, I can sense a little feeling of content. New memories, friendships, disappointments, failures, and opportunities have all come into my path recently. I'm in a moment between the past and the future, and I am not quite sure whether I can define its meaning exactly right now. Hope and desperation are intertwined and I, conflicted as ever, will try to do by best to make some kind of sense of all of this.

Looking back now, as I sit on my couch watching the grey, heavy clouds gathering at the sky, making promises of the forthcoming rain, I wonder if all the misery and desperation of my past finally make sense. Now that I think I have found my reward I wonder that maybe all the suffering was worth it after all.  If time reveals itself to me in a continuum, in a series of flashes between the not-anymore-but-gone and the not-yet-but-to come, I think I'm finally beginning to understand the position of my existence within it.

Silence and nothing more
desperation opens up a door
of hope you may not realize
but once you open your eyes
you see the beauty and the grace
all revealed before your face
you feel the tenderness of air
the warm breeze of spring in your hair
You think of all the time you've spent and, hence,
 it's days like these it all makes sense

My bad poetry still mocks me. I see the morning is coming to its close, and I know the night will bring another memory to cherish. I close my eyes; finally I can do that. Right now there's nothing to do, so I think I'll just sit back for a bit...

In the hour of the awakening

I see the spring is finally coming. The weather outside signals that the soothing darkness and coldness of the winter are behind, and the season of change has arrived. The crude, cold, naked ground has revealed itself as if it was apologizing for all the miseries there have been. And everything is so still. Nothing really seems to move. The naked trees outside are all waiting for something, standing still in the grey weather, awakening from their long sleep of winter. Everything waits for something. Everything is awakening.

"I'm not living; I'm just killing time", I used to think. But now I'm finally starting to realize that time is too precious to kill. And now, as I once again sit at my couch at the blissfull moment of the saturday morning, waiting to go outside and meet the one person who has brought more to my life than anything or anyone ever before, I feel that the steady flow of the existence-of-moments is finally making a rational continuance between the past and the future. I don't yet now how to live, but I'm learning all the time.

The original intent has gone. Maybe I'll find another purpose. The gentle touch of the noon greets me as I look outside through the window. I can see a glimpse of the sun between the curtain of clouds, and the beautiful, grey day of the early spring embraces my worthless existence. I wish I could tell you how much I love you, but there just don't seem to be the words...

Winter is approaching its end. It's cold and grey outside, but the signs of the coming spring are already there. One morning has again passed. Sometimes all this wasted time gets on me, and I can't help but think about the moments that slip away without giving me a hint of their existence. But the bliss of the fact that there is nothing to do comforts me, and I think of the beauty of the night that's ahead. My work and all my responsibilities have kept me busy during the last weeks, and therefore I have not have the time to sit down and think about the meaning of my present being-there. All the stress and anxiety have made me numb, but I try to do my best in the midst of the flow of the everyday. Many things have changed. Some of the changes seem quite hard to believe, but they have happened, nonetheless. So I sit down on my couch, take a look outside through the window and think about the moment that embraces me.

Writing has a life of its own. The name of the moment, the anticipation of the forthcoming; her presence. The moment appears through the mist of my tired existence. My eyes open. My sad, lonely Piano waits to be played. I wish I could realize the moment-in-the-between. I'm a bit afraid of the future, but it does not matter. I wich I could better express my feelings. There are no thoughts in my mind, but for the first time in my life I feel I'm alive...  

Dreams of Winter

New Year has turned into an ordinary one by now, and the pages of my diary have become something else, too. Although they appear empty, there is writing on the pages. Something has changed, though. A moment between the not-anymore-but-already-gone and the not-yet-but-still-to-come flashes before me, once again. And for a short while I forget myself. A reflection from the window wakes me up after I have fallen a sleep on my couch on a slow, beautiful day of winter.

I have been quiet recently. I have been thinking about the year that has passed. It's hard to believe that a year has actually gone. I wonder whether I'm on a right track now. All these things trouble my mind occasionally, but I'm not sure if I should bother myself with them. Memories of her make me want to forget the anxiety of the being and to think about the easy moments ahead.

The cruel, white coldness has embraced me in the last days, but there is something there that keeps me warm at the heart of the winter. I look through the window in the white horizon. Maybe we have passed the half way of the winter by now, I wonder. But it does not matter actually. Nothing has actually mattered recently. A glimpse of the dreams I thought I had lost forever catches my mind, and for a while I dream about all the little things that make life worth living. Suddenly I realize my existence; toward death, without a care..