Hesse is an idiot.

If there are weeks when things change, this was one. This days I reconsidered: arrogance is totally unnecessary. Persons who know me will shout:

“Zkar changing his mind, this is impossible – intruder! Get out of his body.” But friends and fellows, I did.

After a long and intense talk, I found out that arrogance is nothing but stupid. It makes you blind. Awareness, is ok, also straightforwardness and to show character. But arrogance turns yourself pride and blows your ego until nothing besides it matters. Which turns your life into a desaster. To others much more than to you.  I mixed things up in the past. There is a difference between doing stuff that is good for you and being egoistic. Those are recklessnes, arrogance and anti-anticipation.

It’s the idea of responsibility that made me change my thoughts. If you’re responsible for other people, arrogance and egoism will become your biggest enemies. By being a responsible person, you start from zero: doubting all your decisions, your actions and finally even your thoughts, since you start to get the greater image. I think responsibility makes life finally deeper – and to something to take serious, not remaining it that joke that is was before.

I can’t think of lyrics that express this emotions. But maybe I’m still to confused and do not understand things fully. I was lost, but dear friends, finally I’m on the way to the Northern Star again.

Next weeks maybe some thought about love and attachment.

About being an arrogant asshole.

I don’t know why girls and boys, but often relations in my life end this way:

I get called an arrogant asshole. This is probably true. But I never took it as an insult.

I take arrogance as a word for pride, and everybody i ever respected was proud. Proud of himself. “Me – we” was I suppose what Ali said, the arrogant dancing bee, the trembling man, one of those who changed things. Proud means, you respect yourself, you want to be with people you respect. I watched “American Gangster” the other day and got a deep understanding for this. Do so if you can’t follow my word.

Anyhow, by beeing proud, by considering yourself somebody individual and special, your time gets precious. You want to spend it with people you love. You live once and this with hope. So why spending it on watching TV, talking about what your neighbours did and why you didn’t move the lawn.  So do what you wanna do, but with passion, that was the message so far. And if you wanna get of a relation, don’t wait for the next week. Or if you are up to learn something, do it right now.

I don’t know why this is considered by arrogant. Maybe sometimes it’s reckless. This might be true. This is where love comes in – when what the “me” wants is less important than what the “we” wants. More about it next time, and here again some amazing Lauryn Hill lyrics I rediscovered with a friend – Lauryn if you read this: Make music again.

Now, now how come your talk turn cold
Gained the whole world for the price of your soul
Tryin’ to grab hold of what you can’t control
Now you’re all floss, what a sight to behold
Wisdom is better than silver and gold
I was hopeless now I’m on Hope road
Every man want to act like he’s exempt
When him need to get down on his knees and repent
Can’t slick talk on the day of judgement
Your movement’s similar to a serpent
Tried to play straight, how your whole style bent?
Consequence is no coincidence
Hypocrites always want to play innocent
Always want to take it to the full out extent
Always want to make it seem like good intent
Never want to face it when it’s time for punishment
I know that you don’t wanna hear my opinion
But there come many paths and you must choose one
And if you don’t change then the rain soon come
See you might win some but you just lost one

Aaaaaah I’m busy

But take this folks, gave me confused times:

There is no problem, because there is no solution.

Shigeko Kubota

There is no solution, because there is no problem

Marcel Duchamps

Paris Is Burning While Costumes Pass By

Oh, my dear blog,

what happened.  Even if Paris and my head are burning, there is no reason to cheat on you. Cheat with lousy films and badly made coffees. No men is left behing – so aren’t you my blog. The Northern star is still glooming, even if slightly desperate.

That should be enough as apalogy.

So here am I. 5 Thomas Pynchon and Mann books, 2 seasons “How I met your Mother”, 2 suited up nights and many many perfect days after., I’m sitting here with my head burning listening to a weird guy called Peter Kraus. You can only you this fevering. Today, story telling day. So we’ll speak about carneval.

This season I was everything a human beeing could ask for, a Pirate (very boring), a Camel Trader (very colourful), a Joker (desperatly desired) and a fettered medieval farmer (extremly men in tights).  I had amazing nights and got to know 4 different sides in me.

The Pirate was astonishingly similar to the peasant. We mainly grumbled and snarled, but in an extreme charming and sophisticated way.  As the Salesman, oh dude, how versatile and assiduous was I. I juggled drinks, dances and was the guy at the entry. I was everywhere and with everyone. Finally the joker: from many sides I-man have been told that this suites my charakter, I don’t know what they all think of me. But I give you this. When suited up, neither one or the other way, people watch you with somewhat scared eyes (maybe this was due to the scars and the make up in my face). But anyway a lovely position to live in.

So the carneval thing is somewhat weird. I have friends who call this fascist humour and in some ways it is. Then, if you don’t take the costume of the person you’re representing, but much more, the costume of a person who enjoys life. (My main references are some carnevals in Germany and in Southern Austria)

So to take it as a chance to be somebody grumpy, somebody assidous. But never take a dress to become somebody funny or to enjoy life.

Since then, you’re have nothing left to loose.

All of the boys and the girls here, in Paris.
Sing to the night without sight, but with madness.
I can’t keep up, I’m a wreck, but I want it.
Tell me the truth, is it love or just Paris?

My heart is yearning, but Paris is burning.
Paris is burning all night long.
My heart is dreaming, but Paris is screaming.
Paris is screaming all night long.

Kids in the street drinking wine, on the sidewalk.
Saving the plans that we made, ’till its night time.
Give me your glass, its your last, you’re too wasted.
Or get me one too, ’cause I’m due any tasting.

I’ve lost my way, its hard to find it through.
I see the night, but im lost outside of you.
I’ve lost my way, its hard to find it through.
I see the night, but im lost outside of you

Application for Future-Asylum.

Examination time. Boring time. During writing senseless reports, trying to remember facts about history or stabbing in your nose, there are these cozy intimate moments, that pop up when you wanna be somewhere else.

Today when I burned my head and wished microsoft excel was nothing but an awkward dream, I flew to the future.  What a sweet time I had there. Even if it was totally unlike Marty McFly’s “hoverboard” experience.  It was not utopic or desperate, it was real and touching. There wasn’t one future, I was outnumbered by future.  I saw about 10 Million ways in front of my feet, all I had to do was to take one step. And then a next one. Oh me, oh life.

But I couldn’t. I was standing there, in front of me all these amazing possibilies, all these ways I had prepared in my head and they were there,  just waiting for one singular person to walk on them, to take new direction and invent something never seen before. It wasn’t the lack of ways. It was to joice I couldn’t face. I didn’t wish for any more ways or ideas. I wished for 100000 feet, to walk them all. They are all worth going, all worth to be explored,  just I couldn’t.

Sometimes it would be nice to be a sponge. Just seperate and you’re fine.

Another future thing that came to my head this week was that we (or maybe just me) escape if the present is hard to face. But fugees are not really welcome. Who knows if you get a visa?

So maybe it’s better to stay,  just to go on holidays in tiny moments, but don’t let them become to time consuming, even if its one of the best things we can do in the cold cold night. Forging bright and warming plans.

this week: my grand-grandfather, forging plans for the 20th century.

Sleeping during daytime

Am I the only one to wish winter would be over.  Today I slept 14 hours and I’m still sleepy. Maybe I got attacked by a spanish fly. Or 25. The only thing I’m eager to do is forging plans or scheming in proper english. And watching movies. Today I met a guy who looks like a Legend of Bagger Vance golfer. We had a chat about politics and life.

He told me that golfing and listening to the opera are the only thing that attach sense into his life. Although he wasn’t cranky just calm. In Iceland people were told to talk sense or to be silent. Maybe it would be nice to call a coffeehouse that way, or even a shopping mall. I guess talking sence doesn’t mean not to talk about meaningless things. It just remembers to skip smalltalk as my friend the humbled whalehunter said. But most people can’t deal with that.  Sometimes it’s nice to repeat conversation that you’ve already had before. Like a well known tape or your favourite song. If you have them to often though they get lousy and disgusting. What shall we do? Sometimes I like to speak pathetic and sometimes rude. B’ut even that is not allowed. If you keep yourself to the rules of talking, social success is possible. If not, go home boy. What a sad thing. I guess if everybody would be obliged not to speak in his mother tongue, things would be easier. Or maybe not. If there is just one way of communicating, one way of expressing things, nuances and negative undertones can’t be made or even realised. On the other hand, you have to say goodbye to the beauty of language.  Oh no, were did I get again. I just wanted to announce that writing this blog in this moment will be my first step of reducing sleep. I solemnly promise.

All I need is a little time,
To get behind this sun and cast my weight,
All I need is a peace of this mind,
Then I can celebrate.

All in all there’s something to give,
All in all there’s something to do,
All in all there’s something to live,

All I need is a little sign,
To get behind this sun and cast this weight of mine,
All I need is the place to find,
And there I’ll celebrate.

2009 will be awkward

“Happy new year 2010, my dear friends and relatives (I’m not optimistic about 2009)  and hope to see you again in good shape ! “.

I just received this message from my friend, the last french prophet. He often goes to far, but it’s the same with me. Since the first I’m nervous.  I don’t say something bad will happen. Awkard things are not always bad, often it’s quite the opposite. Winning in the lottery is maybe awkward, as well as kissing a truck. Afte all I could even take it as a good thing, since akwardness is not routine. So do something about it guys maybe.

Dance naked in the snow. Kiss to a perfect stranger. Or just be yourselfs. I have to got to Café Ritter now, but I leave you with this, and Awkward 2009!

Voi, che sapete che cosa è amor,
Donne, vedete s'io l'ho nel cor!
Quello ch'io provo, vi ridirò,
È per me nuovo; capir nol so.
Sento un affetto pien di desir,
Ch'ora è diletto, ch'ora e martir.
Gelo, e poi sento l'alma avvampar,
E in un momento torno a gelar.
Ricerco un bene fuori di me,
Non so chi il tiene, non so cos'è.  	

Sospiro e gemo senza voler,
Palpito e tremo senza saper,
Non trovo pace notte nè di,
Ma pur mi piace languir così!

Windmills never cry.

Finally I woke up tired. And I think I will do so tomorrow. And the day after.

Slowly it will change I guess, but rest is what I need. In the meantime I heard strange stories. Stories that make you wanna stay at home anyways. Like one I heard today. At the big W. shop in californa customers killed a grocery shop worker, while he tried to open the door. The just ran in. A big capitalistic stampede. The guy in the shop was nothing more than something in their way. They dind’t even notice him, and just bought everything in the store. On the way back I think they so him, but just recognized that he wasn’t something to sell, when they couldn’t find a price label on him.

In another shop to persons shot each other, when they wanted to buy the same toy. They started arguing, before they both triggered their guns and shot each other. My question is: who is going to a toy’s store, with firearms? I love toy stores, I suppose they are the the only where I can hang around longer than 5 minutes and voluntarily, so I start to be worried. Weird things happening.

So considering these I should be happy that I really don’t want to leave the house. I will buy my christmas presents from amazon and asked the postman to put them in front of my front door, to slip the contract to sign under the door and to leave turn around. I started to grow potatoes in my backyard, and to fed chicken and one turkey (the turkey for Christmas Eve).

So you see I can stay home. As long as I have to. I don’t feel like leaving the house anyway. One aspect is the cold winter outside in the stormy weather in side myself. Let’s wait until the sea has pacified.

Listen to “Tanz Baby” and fill in forms.

Go to sleep, wake up tired.

Where has my productivity gone?

I’m sure you know, productivity is like a classy woman. Sometimes she’s here and you have great times, but them she leaves while you’re sleeping and gone are the days. There are so many influences, it’s just a waste of time to list, think or try to adjust them. Sad but true. So basically you try to do your stuff.

Another weird thing about it: producing stuff,  makes you going. I can’t tell why. Maybe because the happiness about the stuff you have see makes you wanna have more happiness. This includes doing something. Sound logical. Most things you do make you happy by the way. Like driving in a car with a friend. Or picking up letters at a post office. Or sending some.

There are things that steal producitivity. One if of course the black fat hole of doing nothing. (How is possible to do nothing) Or stuff that cost productivity. Like my old friend, the thief Starcraft. On the other hand you do stuff. I just can’t tell if there are persons, who get happy killing Protoss. I feel empty after all. No happiness – maybe it’s just because you can’t see what you have done.

The other concept of productivity is the following: Everybody has is own, individual amount of productivity. Some persons less, some more. Some waste it all within a few years and die young, some safe it all their life and could live forever, the only limit is their body. I don’ t know which idea you like more. Maybe productivity is just a capitalist’s concept. But I think we have a need for it. The hole in our hearts wants to be fed. Forever.

P. S.: I got mine back yesterday in the afternoon/today in the morning. That’s why I just wrote this.

Beam me home.

I was asked two things, that really don’t go together:

A) Stop writing sad, sad things, after reading this blog all constantly boils down to one big depression.

B) Hombre, (aka Huvanen Haika!) continue writing your blog!

The logic conclusion from these two things is, write a happy happy blog. One that makes people smile. And happy. Happy Sunday evenings, for lovely Mondays to come. But, huvanen haika again, what if I can’t do.

So I just go on with old stuff. The sun was shining bright and lucky me was sitting behind my dark table to study. The old problem. But then, in this moment, my lovehated phone rang. “Hello”, I said.

“It’s me, please jump in our car, it’s black and parked in front of your door, we go outside” What a message, what a glory. I jumped in this car, more a spaceship straight from Japan, and we flew out into the blue. Beyond time and space. The old gang was with me. Kirk, who flew himself, as always, made dirty jokes. Scotty, this time in the front and not in the machine room, navigated, and made nerdy jokes about phone vouchers. Next to me, Mr. Spock, the volcan with blond hair and not sharp but red ears. His analytical abilities still were amazing, even if he grews older and the information in his head grows larger, the entropy increases and so does the chaos and the confusion. It’s hard to classify his jokes. In the beginning they were mathematical, exactly calculated, exact and right on the point. In the end, they were, we’ll see.

But who am I in this Startrek comparison. Let’s see who is left. Chechov, Sulu and Uhura. Ah yes and “The Pill” (is this the right english expression) What picks. Let’s categorize

Chechov – Says a lot with a horrible accent, but noone cares. Looks like an alcoholic. And he is pessimistic (by the way, is that how they tought of a sowjet in the 60s?) Ah yes I found this sentence about him: “Er ist der einzige Charakter, der regelmäßig schwer verletzt wird.” We shall regard this as a pro Chechov argument. Now, I understand his pessimism.

Sulu – I know nothing but his name about this guy. He seems very established to me. With a haircut like a rock. Can anybody send me Sulu characteristics?

Uhurua – Looks really hot and is supersmart. And she started a revolution by a kiss. A nice way.

But I wanna be the doctor I guess. Also because I always wanted to be called McCoy.

So there we flew. Fast and silent into the deep of space. We explored undiscovered worlds and unexplored drinks. Spock got kicked out. What happened to his jokes? Nobody understood him anymore, he mumbled like destroyed engine – but maybe they were even better. That was the afternoon, the old crew united. In our hero spacesuits.

Hej this was not so sad, but is was just a nice story. So let’s bring something in. With the friends of your youth everything seems to be a bit more. It’s warm and nobody knows where the oven is located. After I exited the spaceship, that went on to other galaxies, nothing but a nice memory remained. I was lost in space again, without the crew, it’s hard to see the way. I tried many things, nothing worked. Remained dark but I still had the memory. But this was not enough to solve the Gordian knot in me. I called for Alexander with the sword, but he could not help me this time.

Ok this weeks lyrics, it’s the skinner mike.

This is my hour, I’m never going to bed.
The sky is still black, but begs to be red.
I just put my book down, but it begs to be read
I’m not nod, I’m not napper, never rest my head.
Some days I feel I’m getting smaller and smaller,
But some nights, I seem to grow taller and taller.
And we keep shrinkin’ and shrinkin’ but this will not finish.
You’re never nothing, if you didn’t disappear.
Just when I discovered the meaning of life, they change it.
Just when I’m loving life, it seems to start raining.
I pulled the sail safe switch, sea sail and I’m into the stars.
I love the rain out my skies. The sky’s now red, my eyes reflect jets.
Smiling at this blessing, this life is the best.

And after all, the tribute to Chechov, the sad alcoholic, that was always right. Fascinating.