How are you?

“How are you?” that diligent question asked by so many people who don’t actually care if you’re over the moon or down the drain. For a moment you feel that question might actually mean some consideration or attention of sorts towards yourself, but it’s nothing but politeness. Truth is if you reply saying you feel bad they probably won’t care or freak out or pretend they haven’t heard it. If you say you’re “okay” then you’ll be ignored because it doesn’t mean you’re great either and going into it demands a lot of patience and courage – courage for listening to someone’s okay-ness which, whether regarding them or not, makes them feel sort of uncomfortable. If you say you’re great they might either be resentful because they’re not feeling the same way you do and don’t really want to see on someone else or because they’re not a part of it and it hurts their ego – Ah and they might think you’re lying, which, let’s face it, can be quite true. So…next time you feel like asking “how are you?” just ” because” choose rather an infantile/man-child “wassup?”, no one takes it seriously and it’s much more effective. 

’14

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2014 wasn’t bad. It was terrible. And New Year resolutions are just as silly as thinking the world is going to change in a 10-second countdown. Instead I will look back on 2014 and try to learn from it the best way I can – knowing mistakes are to be repeated and others smartly avoided. Resolutions are not about the future, but about how you resolve the past, and it changes from person to person, society to society, and the list goes on in small little atoms.

But 2015 has began in the happiest fashion ever, and I do wish it to be the year I finally learn to enjoy people for who they are and not who they could be for me. Also the year where I will put into action the realisation that the control I have over myself is not to be redirected to how much I starve, or watch, or think and rethink about a situation. The year I will come to terms with certain things, will manage to hit back and leave. The year of small personal projects and big enterprises. The year of having more family members joining in. It’s the future, and for that reason there’s nothing to know.

2015 is the year of not giving a shit about giving a shit.

Believing a New Year could be either an updated or downgraded version of the previous one, it will never a completely new thing, but rather the same constant cause and effect.

New people of all sorts have starting popping in and I don’t want to keep them at bay; I want to let them in and enjoy my ride.

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My poetry is kept in the words – that’s all I know.
My fate is that of not knowing almost everything.
About nothingness I have depths.
I don’t have connections with reality.
Powerful to me is not the one who discovers gold.
To me the powerful is the one who discovers insignificances (the world’s and ours)
By that small verdict I have been praised an imbecile.
I was thrilled. .
I am weak to praise.

by Manoel de Barros (1916-2014)

To The Love Snobs

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Yes, the love snobs. Those to whom love has to be aesthetic. In other words, to whom love and desire and passion, on their own or combined, resemble nothing but blanket sheets of emotions. Stop. Love snobs are so modern they want to go back to the time relationships were only made for reproduction, studied, scheduled. The only difference now is that love is for self-fulfilment, self-assurance, still self-image and no matter how crazy your love is, or dirty or tacky or any other -y word, it needs to be linear and clean like an ultra-modern post-post-post contemporary designed shelf. Like the template for this blog, black on white or white on black: that’s how love is now for the love snobs. Or they decide to write books about it, share partners and make it “an experiment” as if no one else in the history of mankind has ever been in love. Works, more suitable for a Snob Channel, are written about it as if instructions for high tech gadgets or communication theories. As far away from wild life as a snob could be.

But love is the opposite. It’s what will never be understood or explained. Passion is that craziness because it is crazy. Give me an explanation for what I feel, and I’ll quit the human game for good. I don’t want to be explained. I don’t want to be stopped. Even if all the love and passion and desire come from me towards someone blindfolded. If that hand running down my back needs a whole bunch of guidelines, I rather jump into a cold swimming pool. Just let people alone. Let them be dirty and different and blind. Let them raise their feelings and get heartbroken without “now you should” sentences. Let them cry and stalk and go crazy. And let them recover in their own time. And let them not recover if they will never be able to. Love is the strongest and simplest feeling, but it’s so strong people want to create explanations for it. There’s no explanation. No why or how. Just feel it and come back and feel it and come back. If the snobs want to continue theorising about it, very well. But, snobs, let other people alone. Those who simply want to get lost for some time or for good. And let them shrill in peace, and dream believing it’s true. Because that’s as free as they will ever be.

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The New Nature of Problems

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Problems. Such a big word. It’s full of them in itself. On my way to recovery, on my way to the now and after, I was told I had problems. And there are two kinds of problems (okay there are many more but let’s keep it a bit more simple for the time being): the problems we create and the problems that come from how life made us. Okay, let me explain. Our lives come out in a succession of events; they’re all connected, because they’re all cause and effect of one another. Nothing is random. It seems to be, but it’s not (and this has been mathematically proven). So whoever you are comes from the life you’ve lead. You’re a consequence of your own life. Then there are the problems you create facing that same life, so life is also what you make of it. Isn’t this new vision truly incredible? Again, nothing new, but still…I do think it’s incredible, and I’m not being ironic. That’s why you always lose track when you think you’re “on top of things” and you succeed when you start saying “you’re letting things go.” You’re not, in fact, letting anything go because you can’t sit back, eat popcorn and watch your own life on the big screen.

Life is a puzzle, a constant problem-solving event. The more problems you face, and the more solutions you create, the smaller those problems seem to be. And what once seemed to be an entire staircase, will simply be another step.

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