Histoire d'O

Live too fast.
Live to fast.

Hearing empaired

I can here
beyond your skin.

Keep trying

It is very hard to be above the current social hypocrisy level.

To speak one's mind all the time would render life _______.

A bridge over

the Tagus river, Lisbon, Portugal

Massive (heart) Attack

This girl I know needs some shelter
She dont believe anyone can help her
Shes doing so much harm, doing so much damage
But you dont want to get involved
You tell her she can manage

And you can't change the way she feels
But you could put your arms around her

I know you want to live yourself
But could you forgive yourself
If you left her just the way
You found her

This is not a Lebanon post

It is hard to be alive, sometimes.

Shot to pieces

Prague, The Czech Republic

Modern alchemy

I want to harm you in a way that you can forgive (me).

I play by the rules of faith

First Rule of Faith - Things in which we have Faith may not exist;
Second Rule of Faith - The First Rule of Faith has nothing to do with Faith;
[...]

To whom it may concern

The Kilkenny Celtic Festival will take place from 29 September to 8 October this year.

A mirror

The level of attraction should stand in direct relation to the use of the body

Let's light Prague up

Truth be told (iv)

I do the best I can with the motivation I have.

Respect

Days of Saturn

A question of vow(els)

He could not distinguish
between
to live and to love.

In bed as in life

He did not fuck,
he got fucked.

A_long(ing)

Strindbergh's Stockholm, Sweden

The Lemon Tree Redemption

He had a plan to escape himself.

The space between us

She was a liability because of her lie ability.

The future is no place to place your better days

Dave Matthews

Bios versus Zoe

The overrated versus the underdog.

Rage, rage

against the dying of the light, Alentejo, Portugal

Ment to be (happy)

Amateur whiner meets amateur winer&diner.

Her

Normality. I let her have a precious gift: time. It is my reward, in a sense. For I know how it works, I know it well. Time sometimes bends, tickles, hicks and jumps. And there goes normality out the window, through a banged door, a maddening phone call, a crysome conversation. Nothing of her remains then. Nor could it be any other way. It's the price she pays, normality, for the time given to her. When all life brakes loose new rules apply, all is made possible, all is written anew.

Reality check

Once stripped from words what remains of human?

Kafka-esque

Prague, Czech Republic

The Stranger (than Paradise)

I am a stranger in/to my own life.

Reason less

Above and beyond reason.

Where one ends and one begins

Ludwig Wittgenstein and Ibn'Arabï

Pong

I come and I become.

Fooling around (her)

I sigh at the sight of her thighs.

Enter the Wittgensteinian Paradox

Whom do you thank?

What. To what do you thank?

Jarmusch gone czech

Prague, The Czech Republic, [coffee] and cigars

Stargazing

I always fail
for I am always aiming for the stars.

Loosen (up)

I like to lose among friends.

First

the hardest time.

Wittgenstein gone czeck

Let the Mucha out of the box.

Shakespeare&Sons (study)

Jean Seberg writing the Great American Novel
While the bard sings out loud
and all the while I can't stop thinking
that beauty bewilders me

So what if she is a lesbian
set to brake all the straight hearts
and then some?
So what if she has the hips
too narrow
And breasts too large
And that makes no sense?

Oh, God! I love your senselessness!

Jean keeps reading from her Mac
Keeps writing into the oversized
rouge et noir notebook.
She's distressed - I can tell
Something eludes her, she has
the vision and the places and the names
It's the feeling that lacks
that soothing - but stabing - quality
that comes with all great novels.

Or then, it is the aching,
just a letter to the absent girlfriend,
I think, as she leaves.

Temple of Love

I'm not saying it doesn't mean anything, but why does it have to mean everything?

When Harry met Sally

Évora, Portugal

Refusing

Severe severing.

And the joy

When the Sisters sing I feel all the pain that I have ever endured.

This is not Whitman

Perpetually I am shattered by the world
So shattered,
I am the world.

A question of hs*

Are you hungry. No, I ate.
Are you angry. No, I hate

* Thanks to Michael Cunningham

Weathered

Going slow is the way to go.

But if going down, do it fast
Go out with a blast.

I can hear him

Everytime someone puts on a mask in this world
Dionysus laughs.

Roses are red

at a street, Stockholm

Every other Guy

Fawkes would be proud.

Anthesteria

I sleep very little and each day I wake closer to madness.

Do not you understand?

I love you with no me in it.

The everlasting pain

He opened the box. The things inside of it did not hurt anymore. That hurt.

Sense&Sensibility

I want to make you come
to your senses.

Evil

To do is not to be.

Dispersed

I have no feelings of my own

First,

I saved my body
and
then
my body saved me.

Adam&Eve

at a table, Georgetown, U.S. of A.

Bearing

the power to make someone happy is a terrible one.

plus, embrace the body

relinquish the mind and ye
shall have the soul.

secretkeeper: a gift

...so, all the rivers flow to me
and I flood no land.

Punctuation

1. Just a desire for your well-being;
2. Just a desire for your... well, being.
3. Just a desire for your well being.

Note to self

Before you plunge, know the horizon.

A hundred posts

Discourse, which belongs to the essential state of Dasein's Being and has a share in constituting Dasein's disclosedness, has the possibility of becoming idle talk.

Being and Time, Martin Heiddeger

I confess(ionalism)

My mind is not right

Robert Lowell (March 1st, 1917 - September 12th, 1977)

Skunk Hour

(for Elizabeth Bishop)

Nautilus Island's hermit
heiress still lives through winter in her Spartan cottage;
her sheep still graze above the sea.
Her son's a bishop. Her farmer
is first selectman in our village;
she's in her dotage.

Thirsting for
the hierarchie privacy
of Queen Victoria's century,
she buys up all
the eyesores facing her shore,
and lets them fall.

The season's ill--
we've lost our summer millionaire,
who seemed to leap from an L. L. Bean
catalogue. His nine-knot yawl
was auctioned off to lobstermen.
A red fox stain covers Blue Hill.

And now our fairy
decorator brightens his shop for fall;
his fishnet's filled with orange cork,
orange, his cobbler's bench and awl;
there is no money in his work,
he'd rather marry.

One dark night,
my Tudor Ford climbed the hill's skull;
I watched for love-cars. Lights turned down,
they lay together, hull to hull,
where the graveyard shelves on the town. . . .
My mind's not right.

A car radio bleats,
"Love, O careless Love. . . ." I hear
my ill-spirit sob in each blood cell,
as if my hand were at its throat. . . .
I myself am hell;
nobody's here--

only skunks, that search
in the moonlight for a bite to eat.
They march on their soles up Main Street:
white stripes, moonstruck eyes' red fire
under the chalk-dry and spar spire
of the Trinitarian Church.

I stand on top
of our back steps and breathe the rich air--
a mother skunk with her column of kittens swills the garbage pail.
She jabs her wedge-head in a cup
of sour cream, drops her ostrich tail,
and will not scare.

Robert Lowell

Can you feel it?

March is coming.

teasing

open season.

Mars in our midst

Of white tones,
(though ravished
by its darkness)
a brimful
kaleidoscope.

Utilitza la llengua

on the wall, Gracia, Barcelona

Thus ends Chutes Too Narrow

Those to come




Eyeless in the morning sun you were
pale and mild, a modern girl
taken with thought, still prone to care
makin tea in your underwear
you went out in the yard to find

something to eat and clear your mind
something bad inside me went away

quaking leaves and broken light
shifting skin the coming night
the bearers of all good things arrive
climb inside us, twist and cry
a kiss on your molten eyes

myriad lives like blades of grass
yet to be realized, bow as they pass

they are cold,
still,
waiting in the ether,
to form,
feel,
kill,
propagate,
only to die

dissolve
magically,
absurdly,
they'll end,
leave,
dissipate,
coldly
and strangely
return

The Shins

Oh, boy

'Give me the world if Thou wilt, but grant me an asylum for my affections.'

Tulka

A philosophy of life

easy comer, easy goer.

Where we cross

We meet at a myriad sparkling points
I see them fading, remaining few
You see(m) them lighting, becoming more.

And has I go blind, haunted only
by the memory of light

You go forth, maddened much
by possibilities, close and remote.

No better movie

Rules of Engagement

I live my life according to poker rules.

You mean, You bluff?

On occasion,
but mostly I pay to see.

Jusqu'ici tout va bien

L'important c'est pas la chute. C'est l'atterrisage.

So, Fall.

and keep falling.

A problem

The problem of carrying the past with us
is
that each day the past is more
and much less of everything else
future

And though the present is always the same
(one can never have more present than it has)
It weighs on us,
thus.

Tribute to Ennis and Jack

Man, plus Sony Cyber-shot DSC-W1, plus Adobe Photo Shop, light and sharpening effects

Saturn revered

We are the sons of Saturn
And though the day is long
and trying
We shall be here tomorrow.

But if we are not
Know that
We do not resent it.

Things

I can not see the middle of.

The Libertine

Against Constancy

Tell me no more of constancy,
The frivolous pretense
Of old age, narrow jealousy,
Disease, and want of sense.

Let duller fools on whom kind chance
Some easy heart has thrown,
Despairing higher to advance,
Be kind to one alone.

Old men and weak, whose idle flame,
Their own defects discovers,
Since changing can but spread their shame,
Ought to be constant lovers,

But we, whose hearts do justly swell
With no vainglorious pride,
Who know how we in love excel,
Long to be often tried.

Then bring my bath and strew my bed,
As each kind night returns:
I'll change a mistress till I'm dead,
And fate change me for worms.

John Wilmot

Jefferson on my mind

Washington, U.S. of A.

Reverse. Psychology.

Invite me out to dinner and I'll tell you all about you.

Chocolate&Wine, baby

Chocolate&Wine.

Truth be told (iii)

Col. Jessep: You want answers?
Kaffee: I think I'm entitled.
Col. Jessep: You want answers?
Kaffee: I want the truth.
Col. Jessep: You can't handle the truth.


Truer words were never spoken.

(this is an example)

You have to be good to be bad.

The Thin Red Line

There is a line that must never be crossed.

In the name of Kripke

an analytic statement is, in some sense, true by virtue of its meaning and true in all possible worlds by virtue of its meaning. Then something which is analytically true will be both necessary and a priori. (that's sort of stipulative.)

Worlds apart

Love has nothing to do with life.

Marsyas

Tod und Leiden sind die Fragen, die jeden Menschen beschäftigen, der in die Welt geboren wird. Davon, wie er für sich diese Fragen löst (oder nicht löst), hängt seine Lebenseinstellung ab - ob bewusst oder unbewusst

Truth be told (ii)

I have no patience for cyniscim.

[untitled]

Mertóla, Alentejo, Portugal

What if

feeling good is not good enough?*



* [Chris Taylor takes his first hit of marijuana]
Sgt. Elias: First time?
Chris Taylor: Yeah.
Sgt. Elias: Then the worm has definitely turned for you, man. Feel good?
Chris Taylor: Yeah, it feels good. I got no pain in my neck now.
Sgt. Elias: Feelin' good's good enough.

2046

I know not of feelings

The first step to wisdom is to know ourselves ignorants, said the Prime Minister.

Proper

Lessons were learned, said the pale king. Events occurred as it was proper for them to do. I do not perceive that my attention was wasted.

The quest for meaning

Intueri

Sometimes I look at things and I see them.

Truth be told (i)

Polly Jean Harvey is my background voice.

Damned if you are, damned if you are not

to be responsible for your happinness.

Confident Innocence

somewhere, somehow

things you will never understand (i)

...yes but that's because your car does not...

and just then I had to interrupt:

My friend, I do not own a car, I own an M3.

Moral dilemma/paradox

Your Good is someone's Evil; your Happiness, someone's Sorrow.

Sort that out.

Raw

How would you like your relationships, sir? Raw, medium, well done?

(let's) Get the fuck out of Dodge

A terrible mistress

he betrayed her with his loneliness

also this

The definition of Love

It goes without saying.

It came in the mail today

[...]

I've heard the creak and whisper of the night's
improbable apparatus, lacewings and frost
and starlight on the rooftops like a veil

but nothing has ever spoken, nothing has come
from the elsewhere I measure out in songs and dreams,
although I glimpse, in spite of what I know,

the guessed-at world where nothing has been said
but everything is on the point of speaking:
you in your chair, looking up from a half-read book

as the angel who cannot exist is replaced by the given,
the sullen gift of everyday events:
the promise of rain, a footfall, the dread of belonging.

John Burnside

Where Is the friend's home?

Medina of Chefchouen, Morocco

Fast

Some days I do.

Nexus

If you are a cause, you are responsible.

Wishful thinking

up north, Portugal

Existence lies only in the present

The past is memory, the future is death.

On the language of the deities

Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen

Tractatus logico-philosophicus, 7

The parting of a suit

The parting of a suit is not easy to overcome
A little more me it had helped me to become

The parting of a suit is a strange deed indeed
For you do not lose your skin but something in between

When at last you let go you feel sorry and sad
For the times spent together, both good and bad

The parting of a suit is not easy to overcome
You both must be gentlemen and thus get it done.

to my dark blue suit bought in Oxford St many years ago

Contemplating the descent

down Cacela

Under the sign of Pisces

I am a fish. Mute. Expressionless.

There is nothing else

The past is dead; the future is unborn.
Only the present has value.

Feelings, nothing more than feelings

Betrayal lies ever and only with the betrayed.

The white hunger

I search in people, I search in books, I search in movies, I search in places, landscapes and dreams. I search for what, I do not know. I search, therefore, for knowledge of what I search, this hunger inside, for me.

Above. Inside. Tétouan. Morocco.

If I could learn to read the signs

On page 197 of Witt's bio; compulsive reading, slow digestion; new Saramago on death bought: on page 11 a Witt's quote on death.

What does it all mean?

No better book

In the making

You have to make up your mind, she said!

That is the problem, is it not: I am making it up.

The Devil is in the details

at a wedding

Filipa

Thou hast done my heart anew.
Many happy returns.

Mother

Can not live with you, can not live without you

WWYWIWD

Where were you when I was dying?

Fire

what it does not consume it purifies.

Unknown

I know my downfall will be my salvation

No escape

Although he disliked the word
was a perfect exemple of a post-modernist

But not two

Love is 1 and ∞
But not two.

such a place as, Stockholm

Seasons

I missed the cold

Loneliness spells humanity

We can either live the loneliness
Or worry about it.

The problem of being

I have a problem with loyalty.
What is it?
I'm loyal.

Vermischte Bemerkungen

Wenn wir einen Chinesen hören, so sind wir geneigt, sein Sprechen für ein unartikuliertes Gurgeln zu halten. Einer, der chinesisch versteht, wird darin die Sprache erkennen. So kann ich oft nicht den Menschen im Menschen erkennen.

Ludwig Wittgenstein

Either/Or

only intimacy may not be boring

In the end

all it matters is who follows you
certain.

Difficulty

Stretching out the metaphor
which is not but a hand
is easy. Notwithstanding
brain and heart are old cynics

windownightshopping

apud Scenes from Comus

the tragedy of things is not conclusive
rather, one way by which the spirit moves.

Geoffrey Hill

So I repeat, quietly, on the subway corridors.

On the nature of things

Maybe I truly am Superman
For you feel like kryptonite

The coming of age

September is not about people
It is about the light

where two rivers meet

of God

To love people and not love a person

Grief

How does one distinguish between howling and wailing?

Parting ways

You are a person, with views and ways
But your heart - oh! your heart! -
It is something different.
To obey or linger in decay

by the river

How I got to antiquity

I stopped reading Barry to read Rawls; I stopped reading Rawls to read Locke, Rousseau and Kant; I stopped reading Locke to read Descartes; I stopped reading Rousseau to read Aristotle; I stopped reading Kant, to read Hume and Espinoza; I stopped reading Aristotle to read Plato; I stopped reading Plato to read Parmenides and Heraclitus; to this day I am still reading Heraclitus.

The importance of words

She was in my class / She looked at me, repeatedly / Lower lip biten /One day, slowly to me came / Saying: Would you like to stud' me?/Time stopped, space whirled, people laughed / Others bloomed, she blushed/ Gave her no time to flee: / Yes, I would like to study/ With thee.

Feed me

I like to study

Experience

A person can only be destroyed from within

at a theatre

Fuck Variations

Early Morning Fuck

Ah!, I love the smell of a fuck in the morning

There is nothing quite like an unexpected fuck

In the end, fuck is just a word: it's our minds that do it.

Wander

Lost, life and love,
Once:
Never again, the fear.

Blogger

Dawn&Gloom: to flag or to unflag?

Name a poem

Alice Oswald Dart Woods Etc

Anew

The Mysterious Mr. Quinn I would like to see on film.
And Mr. Satterthwaite also.

Well directed, please.

Y

not?

Reasoning

For someone who loves people so much it is amazing how much I need solitude

For someone who needs solitude so much it is amazing how much I love people

all; but one

I am losing sight of people. I can only see Zöe.

Terceira Island

Befriended

I am imune to evil. For I live in its depths.

Dark Side

To intimately know the vices and the flaws and to contain them; and one day: not to. But to release them, let them free.

Lisbon

Fiction

I have no time to be real

I only know how to look up

don't know how I got here, don't know where to go

somewhere, Stockholm

Silence

to master speed is truly to to know what life is

Every beginning is poetry

I am the bird of inoccence that floats in the air, so bright And yet I am dark as dusk and gloomy as the night But the night might be clear and great like the ones we see in dreams It is in those nights we go with fate through its torturous streams Could I be a silent bird and still speak the words of dawn Indeed I could if I stand the night and at sunrise am not gone Much meaning would that have fulfilled with a secret symbol That we must unveil to find a pass so nimble, like the dawn itself For I find meaning certain and clear - to me a bird so mere That the night is my only house and the dawn, her daughter, my lovely spouse

at a diner