Détruisons Tout (Let’s Destroy It All)


In order to be able to build again,
Sometimes we need to destroy it all,
Burn it all down.

This one might end up pretty badly.

(The song for this post is:
Détruisons Tout by Benoit Pioulard or

Angel by Depeche Mode)


The X that Never Marked the Place


This is the actual X that on my map never marked the place.
The X was just an X.
The X I so much believed in
but then I lost all my faith.

It was clearly stated,
planted on the ground right in front of our window.

For a while I was convinced this was the place.
The X was there.
For better or for worse
For a minute or for a day
I was there
For years holding on to that X
Often feeling like a wreck
But for years I waited and waited.
Until I realized the X was just becoming that: an X.

Nothing happened, nothing came
Lots of comings and goings
but nothing stayed
Just the feeling of loneliness.

The long wait became a constant pain
And the pain grew bigger and bigger:
All I saw was that
of your time and attention and future
I had always just been getting the remains.

Everything stayed the same
And I was never good enough to prevail.

All I wanted was what everybody else had
Even though I’ve always been downplaying that fact.

On top of it I was let go for a while
The only thing I was feeling was:
I was being skinned alive
Maybe I was wrong
Wrong all along
And we shouldn’t have ever left each other go.

(This is where my believing on the X comes from,
from the time when I was -like now- really really sad:)
(This post best listening to:
Where I End and You Begin by Radiohead)

To the French Border and Back


It is said that if you want to get to know someone you should take a trip with them. I do not think that is always true but in this case it has proven to be.

Last weekend I took a trip to a beautiful mountain area near the French border. That meant a 10-11 hour drive from where I live. What a painful trip. I not only got to know someone, but I (I think we) actually realized we had nothing in common, or at least not as much as we thought. By (very very very very very) far not enough to be friends.
Too many conversations repeated. Too much looking out the windows.

It’s true that it wasn’t my best weekend at all. I’ve been in a bit of a bad (horrible) mood lately. On Friday, right before the trip I left work early, pretty pissed off, and with a big slam on the door. No looking back and no regrets about it.
I haven’t been this frustrated and upset with life in a long long time. It is not nice, it is scary. Last time I was feeling this way I made a huge mess of myself and therefore of my life.

Lovely place though. And lovely people. I loved the small town feel, the quietness and the simplicity of everyday. Wonderful. I wished I could enjoy that kind of life.

After the trip my not-so-wild guess is that my friend and I won’t probably be seeing much of each other for quite a while. But that is ok with me.

In the end it might be true that I hate most men who love me, they pass right through me like a ghost.

(This post best read while listening to:
So Cruel by U2)

Where Are They Now?


Lately I‘ve been wondering way too often: “where are they now?” Those people who suddenly disappear when we still need them, those people who decided to be lost… Where are they when we think of them?

Our personal reactions come from being in and living different circumstances and diverse daily experiences. We do not know what they are thinking, what they are going through, just the same way they do not know what is going on in our lives and in our heads.

When you need someone and they are not there, how long for do you still call them out? They’re no longer there, why should you remember them, idealize them, think of them at all? They are gone. They decided to not be there. They decided you shouldn’t be there either, even though you could hear their thunder roar long before they could.

Everyone who walks away and leaves adds a little drop to the raincloud, sometimes without even realizing (like the vexing I’ve written about on a previous post). Whoever is there when the lightning strikes, wants to be there. Whoever is not there through the storm to bring an umbrella, or maybe just to make it through the storm and get soaked with you, forget it, they’ll never be there and therefore they’re not worthy enough to be there when/if the sun shines again.

In the end we just have to realize and accept we are virtually alone. Always and forever alone. And there are two ways of dealing with this: you either do deal with it or you don’t.

People walk away all the time, and they don’t care, they don’t bother looking back. Why should we care, then? Why do we? If they wanted to be there, they’d be, they’d be on the outside and you would let them in. But the point is that not everyone we wish is where we would like them to be. Nor are we where some people want us to be.

So I’m closing the door, using a padlock, throwing its key away. If someone really wants to find me, they will swim to get the key, try it on the padlock and struggle until they open the door, by tearing it down if that’s what it takes. I would do it for them if they needed it. If they are not even gently knocking to get me, I will not leave a message, the effort is definitely not worth it anymore.

(This post best read while listening to:
Where Are They Now by Gene, or:
Walk to the Water by U2)

(BTW, there’s a hidden message in this post if you pay attention and you are really looking)

Stealing from Fate (or Unfolding the Maze)


The full moon shines bright outside
It reminds me that time is up
Or it might have been up a while back

…pieces and puzzles, pieces and puzzles…

Up until not too long ago I used to believe in fate, in a higher destiny shaping our lives, now I am not so sure.
I used to believe that fate was a straight line that we follow. If you find a juncture, you choose a path, the one you’re supposed to. Then, you’re still following one path, the path, your path. That path is a straight line, it’s the only path.

Now I believe that there is not such straight line, there are still crossroads, but we choose wrong roads, winding roads, shortcuts, dead-ends or the road less traveled. It is all a maze, and the more we walk, the deeper we go into it and the harder it is to find our way back (or forward).

The maze is a huge puzzle that has a lot of pieces, and hard enough as it is to find matching pieces, we misplace them all the time, by taking wrong turns. I believe we are all thieves, we steal from destiny, we play with it and fool it: we take one piece from here and then leave it there, or we take the wrong piece and keep it, when we are supposed to let it go for another to find.

We are all pieces and puzzles at the same time, which means we might be missing a few pieces ourselves, never to be found and thus maybe forcing us to end up being just incomplete pictures.

So how do we know when we are stealing from fate? When we are complicating the maze even further?
There is no way of knowing.
There is no way (out).
I am
Walking back this road real fast
Looking for the last crossroad
I took.
I am going back to the start.
Cause we were never given the map.


(This post best read while listening to:
La Llorona by Caifanes)


Half a Moon Away


So many moons have passed by
So many moons have left us behind
So many words… for so many years unheard
So many words… for so many years unsaid.
How many more moons will I have to wait?

How many more moons will we have to stumble upon?
How many more times will we be lucky enough?
How many more times will we get up
How many more times after we have fallen down?

I look up at night and you’re there
Shining, smiling, staring down at me
How many more times will I wait for you to be full?
Do I need to wait another 10 years for you
To fill up my life again?

…I will not wait any longer…

(This post best read while listening to:
Camping Next to Water by Badly Drawn Boy)

Walking Underneath Ursa Minor


It is late at night and I am coming home
I am walking underneath Ursa Minor
Music banging in my head,
And the bitter taste of beer
Are walking along with me.

Polaris, my guiding light
Where are you taking me to?
Where am I heading?
How long will you be there?
My last guiding light was a shiny spark
For some time bright as the sun,
but suddenly faded then disappeared,
as if it was a beautiful shooting star.

Going to bed with half a smile
But I know it’ll last only for a short while
I know that tomorrow, when I wake up
There’ll be tears in my eyes
For all that’s been lost
and for all that’s been left behind
still drags, and drags, and drags…

Maybe it is time to wrap it all up
That’d be another list to make,
That’ll keep me entertained.
If only for a lifetime.

(This post best read while listening to:
Lonesome Tears by Beck)