Wednesday, December 23, 2009

A Personal View On Break-Ups and "I Love You" 's

 Recently, I've been thinking about relationships, break-ups, and the meaning of the words "i love you" and how I think of them.

On break-ups: Some people are afraid of break-ups because they'll be alone afterwards. Some people need to always be in a relationship even though they know that sooner or later, it's going to end and they're going to "have to" find another one because they can't stand not being in one. I, on the other hand, am afraid of break-ups not because I'll be single, but because I'm afraid my ex will no longer want anything to do with me. Or rather, I'm afraid that after the break-up, he won't want to be friends with me. I've seen a lot of break-ups end in tears and anger where both parties stop talking to each other because of an argument that they had that ended their relationship. I've also seen (and heard of) relationships that ended but both parties stayed friends. I haven't had a break-up yet, but I hope when I do, the two of us will stay friends afterwards. My reasoning is 'Why not?' If I spent months or years with that person, loving, spreading myself out, learning about him and what he thinks, I'm not going to completely shut myself off from him just because of an argument or whatever it was that ended our romantic relationship. The relationship I think I would have with most of my partners before they become my lovers would be one of friendship (I have only had one) and I'd hope to regain that relationship with them after the romantic one terminated. After all, most romantic relationships end. Keeping that in mind, not all relationships end as quickly as romantic ones do. Friendships and family ties are supposedly more stable. There is no sign more evident of human fickleness than in a romantic relationship. People's feelings and situations both change quickly. What was there at the beginning of a year perhaps might not be there anymore the next year. However, the time that was spent in a romantic way was not wasted even if it had to end. If one feels happy during that time, it was spent in a good way and one shouldn't curse it because of time or human feelings. Things didn't work out in the end the way one thought they would but for some time, they did. So why ignore and curse that spent romantic time by not continuing the relationship in a different manner? Of course, if the argument was something along the lines of 'You beat me until I was half-dead' or if your ex is mentally deranged and is now trying to stalk you through means of google map, by all means, don't stay in touch with that person. Other than that (even in a situation where there was cheating involved), if one can forgive the act, one can definitely make peace with the person.

On "I love you": I've written a blog about this before but what I want to write about now is more of an opinion. Personally, I use those words frequently: to friends, to someone who does me a favour, and to my partner. Although I say them some might say too easily, I mean them every time. For me, 'I love you' means a simple, grateful thanks. To the person who did something for me, a thanks that they did me a favour. To my friends, a thanks that they are there for me when I need them and that they are there to support me and accept me for who I am. To my partner, for accepting, tolerating, and putting up with what I do and all of my failures, flaws, and imperfections. Also, the 'I love you' is not only a thanks but a statement of my entire emotions. My whole gratitude is too much and it takes too long to explain and so those three words are a nifty convenience for saving time and energy. To me, "I love you" translates into "Hey, you're a fucking awesome person and I thank you for being here with me right here, right now. Even though this moment will pass, you mean something to me and I am changed by your acquaintance".

Sunday, November 29, 2009

run baby run

Run baby run
she called out from the car
I can't stop it at all
No, I can't stop it at all

Run baby run
he called out from the sky
I can't stop for you now
No, I can't stop for you now

Run baby run
He called from above
What'd I give you legs for
They're useless if you don't use them at all

Run baby run baby run baby run
Oh oh, oh no, oh oh, oh no
Run baby run baby run baby run
Oh oh, oh no, oh oh, oh no

But she'd rather just walk
She'd rather just walk now
She tried to run and she broke
So she'd rather just walk now

Run baby run
You've gotta catch your bus
But gain speed and she'll crash
Gain speed and she'll crash

Run baby run, oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh (x4)

Her feet don't take her far
But they'll take her as far as she wants
She's more stable that way
So whatever way your boat floats

She tried to run but it just wouldn't work
You can't say she didn't try hard
But it seems if she keeps walking slow
Before long, she's just gonna stop.

philosophy in a tea cup

Cet matin
je me suis reveille au pres de la crainte
elle me tenait proche
elle me tenait comme un amant

Un peu dtresse
jai bu mon cafe sans lait
je l'ai bu sans sucre
comme je bois d'habitude mon the

La tasse, je l'ai mis
sur l'assiette, et la lie
me moquait
avec la question de la vie

Un regard precipite
etait assez pour m'annoncer
que la croix noir
signifait que lat mort etait pres 

accident in paris

Paris has no lights and sleep's setting in
I've been walking down these streets for the past seven years
It's been some time since I've thought of escape
But all the people are closed, they've all become grey

And I wanna know, who gets old in Paris
And I wanna know, who gets cold in Paris
And I wanna know, who's ever died in Paris
Apparently, you and me
Apparently, you and me

The cars are small to fit the streets
The advantage is you see more using your feet
But that's why I never learned to drive
You can go far but you can't get too high

And I should know the silent sounds of Paris
And I should know the secret fears of Paris
And I should've known it would have happened in Paris
To her and her
To her and her

Paris has no lights and sleep's setting in
She told me slow down but of course I didn't listen
And I knew I should've learnt to drive
'Cause you can go far but you can't go too high

She and she are buried so deep
She and she are buried so deep
High in the sky and for the last seven years

Sunday, November 8, 2009

blossom rot

have a pomegranate, she said.
i don't know how to eat them. 
that's alright. i'll teach you. 
intertwining my fingers in hers, she motioned them to take a piece
making her body mine hers mine ours.
she brought it to my lips    ordered me to smell the sharp bitterness
told me there was not a more intimate act of love than
the shock we'd feel once my tongue made contact with the fruit
in my throat nose eyes and
like electricity coursing through veins for a split second
before soft numbness crept in. 
one two three taste  the  shock  can  you  feel  it?
i felt a shelf of books tumbling over me
instead of electricity
and tasted sawdust instead of love. 
i think it's rotten, i said. 
yeah, i know. 
i couldn't find another way to tell you
i'm leaving.

written November 8, 2009

Thoughts After Reading "Jonathan Livingston Seagull"

 I recently read Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach for the first time. I had heard of it and I knew that it was a moderately famous book but I had actually never bothered to pick it up and read it. It had to do with seagulls obviously and I wasn't (and still am not) very interested in seagulls. But several days ago, one of my friends let another one of my friends borrow it to read. I asked if I could read it and he said that I probably wouldn't like it because I didn't believe in what was written there. I said I didn't care because I was still interested. And so, yesterday, I sat down and finished it in an hour. It's a very short novel and very easy to read to the point of being deceivingly easy. I'm still trying to understand it and to see if I actually believe in what it says.

"We choose our next world through what we learn in this one. Learn nothing, and the next world is the same as this one, all the same limitations and lead weights to overcome."
"Heaven is not a place, and it is not a time. Heaven is being perfect."

So from what I gathered, the novel has to do with reincarnation. You live one life, and then you live another, and then another until...what? Bach proposes until you reach "Heaven" or "perfection". We live a life and in the next, we take what we've learned and what we've experienced in the past and use that to reach perfection. It is an upward slope, and a steep one at that, but there is still a light at the end of it.

Reincarnation is another way (just like the belief of Heaven and Hell) to make people think that their lives are meaningful, that there is something after death. Because if there isn't, then why should we have lived? After all, "one who lives once might just as well not have lived at all." If one thinks about it, living one single life is a bleak concept. We have this short time to learn all we can, to make all of the mistakes we will make. And perhaps we will not learn all we want, nor will we right all of the mistakes we have made. 'Heaven and Hell' give us a reason to strive to be "good", with the reward of Heaven if we are and the punishment of Hell if we aren't. But reincarnation is much kinder and a much happier concept than either of the two above. We learn what we do in one life and we are able to continue learning (and making mistakes) in the next. The point is to learn, to learn continuously and with delight and joy until one earns perfection. But what comes after perfection? Death? Does one finally enter one world (Heaven, let's call it) in which one can permanently stay in without having to live again and again and revel in one's perfection? For even if those multiple lives do allow one to get closer to perfection, the number of lives changes for each person. One who learns more in the first has to learn less in the next. One who learns nothing in the first has to learn everything in the next to catch up. Even though learning is a joy, one gets tired, frustrated, and angry of not being able to reach perfection. Reincarnation is two-sided. On one hand, it is hope after the first life, hope for more life, for more time, for more knowledge. On the other, it is a never-ending infinite loop in which one must rise and fall repeatedly.

But now, here's the question of questions. Do I actually believe in this concept of reincarnation? As I was talking who the same friend to gave me the book, I was explaining to him that for me, it didn't matter if there was a life or not after this one because for the moment, only this life matters. If there is life after death (hawr hawr), then one should worry about it when one comes to it. If we do think about it, it doesn't make any difference to this life. If there isn't life after death (Heaven, Hell, reincarnation, etc.), then why not live this life to the fullest? After all, it's the only life we have. If there is, though, then the same technique applies. If we live this life to the fullest, we get a reward either way in the next. But I realized that by ignoring the concepts of life after death, I was only avoiding thinking about those ideas and choosing if I believed in them.

Well, for reincarnation specifically, one does not need belief to enter the loop. One is already in the loop itself. It's inevitable. One does not know at what level one is at. So it doesn't really matter if we believe in it or not because if it's not true, we don't lose a thing, and if it is, we still don't lose a thing. Does one remember one's lives before though? In Bach's book, Seagull remembers the time he spent on Earth and even returns to it in order to teach flying to the seagulls who are interested. Personally, I don't remember any life I've lived before so I guess this must be the first one. Also, in Bach's book, Seagull stays a seagull in his second life (and probably in the ones to come). Of course, this is Bach reincarnation (and I'm not sure whether it coincides with the more conventional concept of reincarnation) but either way, what I have just realized right now is that I don't know really much anything about it. :]

And so I say...I shall finish this blog at another time because I need to read on reincarnation.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

a car and music are all you need to feel free

At 6:30 a.m. every morning, when the black sky still cast its shadow on the tired houses in the quiet neighbourhood, I would slip out of my house and start walking down the street to the bus station about a mile away. The wind would play around me, glad that something would creep out of its shelter to face it. It did not consider the bikers and runners that also littered the leaf-strewn paths. It wanted something with a bit more patience, with a bit more calmness. I was not one to hurry because I knew I wouldn't miss the bus. I was the kind of person that left long before the appropriate time for irrational fear of being late.

Walking across the neighbourhood, I would sing songs out loud that I wouldn't let myself sing in any other circumstance. I cherished my loneliness and the emptiness of the streets. The houses on their freshly mowed lawns looked like insomniacs sleeping; troubled dreams rolling and bubbling over each other, soon to give in to wakefulness and sleepy-eyed tiredness. The cars that would rush past me, their headlights carving the darkness sharply, blinding me with artificial light, were always in a hurry. They always had something to catch: a stop light, a train crossing, or even the rare dazed squirrel that had decided to cross the street at the wrong time.

There was that spot where the lamp on the right side of the street and the lamp on the left side were in a relationship. Right would reach out its arm of light to feel the distance in between, to see if Left was awake yet or still in love. Left would immediately respond with a similar arm of light and the two would merge in a ray of warmth in the middle of the pavement. This is where I would start listening to the sound of the cars coming my direction. This is where she usually would come speeding past me, glance towards the right side of the street, see a shadow of a walking human, and screech to a stop while calling out 'Hey, wanna ride?' Her car made a very distinct sound of arrival; it was the sound of rust, beat up metal, and burnt rubber. Every single morning as I passed that particular section of the road, I would strain my ears at every mechanical sound, searching for her Honda without turning my head. When she'd see me and stop, I would nonchalantly swerve my head in her direction and yell out 'Sure!' as though I had been happy with walking but because she had offered me a ride, I had accepted it out of politeness. The truth was that I would wait for this moment with anticipation, eager to rest my legs for the rest of the journey and get to school faster than to walk until the end of the street, wait for the bus, pay $1.50 for a five minute ride, and be enveloped by the hard-hitting yellow lights of the inside of the bus.

I wanted a car just like hers. It was beat up and cheap but it had a cosy, bohemian, individual feel to it as though you could just hop into it whenever you felt the world was getting to be too much and drive endlessly until the feeling of helplessness ebbed away. The windows would always be down no matter how cold it was outside(she complained she was hot) and her ipod would be blasting at full volume. You could practically see the Modest Mouse tumbling out of the windows, left behind the car as it would stream past stop signs and school buses. With the music that loud and the sun that low in the sky, there was not much to say except 'Did you know Janis Joplin overdosed when she was 20?' 'Yeah. But she was fucking awesome anyway.' 'Yeah.' But that was enough. It was enough to just sit in the front seat and watch her lips move and her head sway from side to side to the song. We'd get out of the dark alleys of the well-to-do neighbourhood and enter the wider streets with the McDonalds and Boston Markets competing against each other and tearing each other apart from across the sea of traffic. Here, the lights of the gas station would shock our eyes into vision so we could see with this ultra-sight that was unnatural for that early in the morning. Everything would become painfully clear and suddenly, we'd realize that we hadn't actually slept the night before. Or really, the night before that. By then, the song would have changed and Emily Haines would come on and we'd slip into a reverie where notes would wash over us and we could drown ourselves in soft sound. We'd be at the school and she'd try to park. Sometimes, she could do it right if there wasn't a car that got a spot in front of her before we arrived, but that wasn't often. It was now 6:40 and parking was becoming scarce. Students paroled the streets for empty spaces. 'Fucker! Fuck, I have to fucking back up now.' Ten minutes later, one wheel was on the sidewalk and The Kills would begin their haunting.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

The Importance of Speech as a Form of Communication in a Relationship

"I love you." Those three words obviously mean something. It can be said that for each person, they have different meanings. Some say those words trivially and some believe that that phrase should only be said in certain circumstances. Nevertheless, throughout the years, these words have become what is now called "cliche". This phrase has been repeated so many times that to some people, it means close to nothing.

In a relationship, this is usually the most common and most frequently used form of showing one's love towards another. It has become so common and so frequently used that in some relationships, this phrase is a necessity for that connection to work (and to continue to work). For example, if your partner ceases to say "I love you" or doesn't say it as much, you might feel as though your partner does not "love" you. Some expect that the whole bundle of romantic sentiments towards themselves should be contained in those three words.

Of course, there are other forms of expressing one's feelings towards another. Words are only one type of communication. Another kind can be physical intimacy. And yet another can be complete silence. Personally, I do not feel it is necessary to say anything (although sometimes I can't help it) when one can enjoy utter peace with one's partner when both are silent. Silence does not necessarily mean awkwardness or a lack of 'things to say'. As Uma Thurman pointed out in Pulp Fiction, "Why do we feel it's necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable?...That's when you know you've found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence."
Also, after physical intimacy (whatever that may consist of), is it really necessary to add "I love you" to the action? The action itself should be enough to prove not only to your partner but also to yourself that both of you are comfortable and happy with each other.

Personally, those words seem to be a test of the circumstances of the relationship. Early on, one says them to assure himself that his partner actually is happy in the situation. After the first time, it becomes not only easier to say but also one finds that it comes more frequently. Perhaps that is the cause of NRE*, the giddiness and ecstasy one feels after beginning a new relationship. Before other forms of communication can be used due to comfortability, words are the basis of the expression of sentiments. And perhaps after those other forms are discovered, words become less important as a kind of communication.
Nevertheless, there is a reason why we as humans communicate by speaking and less by writing or physical contact and even less, by silence. But there could be a progression of the types of communication based on the intimacy of the relationship of the humans. For example, speech can be a first jump. Physical contact can be a second jump and so on. Do these jumps reach a goal? Yes, they perhaps go to the goal of being completely comfortable with the other person and mastering all of the kinds of communication.

*NRE: new relationship energy

Saturday, October 10, 2009

you can either be my fishy or my lovely

You can either be my lovely or my fishy.
If you are my lovely, I will crown you with painted glass and sunlight and you shall shine like the virgin. I will lick you in place to the high palisade wall and you will become the sentinel of the church. Your arms will be fixed, nailed to the stone so that you can better accept my love. You eyes will be gouged out with thorns so you can sharpen your other senses to anticipate when a hidden army is creeping up to destroy me. Your feet will be bare and embedded with the shrapnel and the dirt that seeps out of the soul's corners in plumes. And you shall be my oracle. Yes, the barbarians are coming. No, he does not love you. Yes, you're pregnant. You will be my protector, each of your bruises signifying each attack that you have successfully deflected. And at the end of the day, when I take you down and you bend your fingers and move your cramped legs and arms, I will show you how clean I still am. The barbarian's spear will not have touched me, the chamomile petal will not have poisoned me, and the blood on the operating table will reek of knives and death, not of cameras and life. You will see that I have lived yet another day. And you still will survive, the wounds collecting on your body. Don't worry, my lovely. You will have the night to heal; the moon, the stars, and the biting wind as your balms and bandages. And when black turns to grey, I will come out and carry you to your place on the wall again.
If you are my fishy, you must breathe water and algae. You must learn to forget air and legs. You will see earth and sky through a glass surface; touch it and it will tremble but not break. You must learn to remember to take bigger mouthfuls and to keep the water from running from your ears and nose. Your skin will turn to smooth green, the pruney fingertips wearing down to fins, the nails peeling off. You will forget words, your memory will fail, and your eyes will lose their shine. You will forget how to love. You will forget that you were once human.