Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl

I miss the beach and the ocean and the quiet mornings and the solitary world and the emptiness and the silence and the stillness and dawn

Kamikaze on the Loop

I got a car. How does it feel? Like everything right now, nothing.

I got my first B. I knew I will start slipping eventually and I knew a class will take the hit. I spoke about it to my therapist and she said: " What if it happens? It's not the end of the world!" She's right, it's not the end of the world. It's nothing really, just plain nothing, just empty worrying and anxiety.

Friends are coming all the way from the other side of the Atlantic. It doesn't feel like anything, but I can't act like it for a plan that finally came to a fruition.

Here is the thing about this whole time:

When Eminem put out Revival, I didn't like it. Neither the beats nor the lyrics. It just tsk tsk... Plus, Beyonce ? Really? Ed Sheeran? Seriously dude? Please add Justin Timberlake to this combo and I'm done...

But then again, every artist has to have that little black sheep. I still have appreciation for Revival, just no love. When my homies, fans as well if not hardcore fans, were berating the album, I defended Eminem's choices and argued my appreciation of certain tracks.

Then, Kamikaze dropped out and I liked few songs and connected with one or two, gave me goosebumps and ignited my replay tendencies. And that was it.

In my quest to trying to connect back to things I used to like, I can't seem to connect back with much. But I was listening to Kamikaze while trying to work out and I just started crying in the gym. It's not even the lyrics or thematics or the beats. It's just the emotion, the pain inside god damn. I exhausted the tears and the pain inside.

I am still listening over and over again to Kamikaze as of now, I never want to forget that. I can't believe how much it just makes sense irrespective of content and beats. That one is tough.

Hell, I am even relistening to Revival and his track with Beyonce hit me hard.

                               

Looks like it's me and good ol Marshall for this reinveted but not quite phase.

Being human is getting too hard good grief.

In Praise of the Shadows Re-read

Lemmings jumping off the cliffs

Speaking of childhood is bringing up some forgotten memories.

I remember watching this in the end of a VHS of a disney movie, and I remember being contemplative, and people around me chocked and pained.

I remember that instinctual acceptance I had and could neither explain nor bother explaining or investigating.

And thinking about it now, forcing myself to put it into words and share it, I said it was a wholesome "horror" of nature, another manifestation of things beyond our understanding (for now) and proof enough we will always witness things beyond our understanding anyway.

In these times, I either remember Nausicaa or Major Kusanagi. That's the part where I am no longer taken seriously. It took time but I came to understand the open and proud disdain many have for fiction and/or animation: They don't think it holds intellectual substance.

Catalyzing ideas is not the property of one endeavor, it is the byproduct of the observer and some of the soul and woven purity the creator may leave within.

Between Nausicaa who would have accepted this phenomenon and believe in the wisdom of Nature without any proof, and Major Kusanagi who would have been reminded of the limitations of our given perceptions in the present physicality and means of acquisition and interaction we have, I find myself wondering whether I am torn between two dichotomies or able to rally them both. Perhaps together they can lead to an instinctual learning path that can perhaps unfold more understanding, and better means to understand Nature and what's around us. Perhaps if both tenets were held in a healthy balance within the mind, the observer aware of them as tenets instead of dogmas, able to listen to both and many more and respect the mental process and apply it without getting defined by it, perhaps then...

But what do I know? I'm just a fan of two drawn fictional characters

80s ambience bottled up in the perfect song

 Cheers to the generations that got out and had it easier and harder and it was alright, alright, alright

The Promised Land

Why do we stay in the cradle?
Why do we provide suffering to our little heart?
Our star did not leave us, did not leave us
Our star did not leave us, did not leave us
The pulse of veins flowing in the earth
Faint, faint pulse
Heart leading to death
And the weak life return to the planet
Is it necessary to sacrifice the soul?
Why do we stay in the cradle?
Why do we beg for mercy?
In the fatal earth?

J'ai vu dans l'oeil de l'animal

J'ai vu dans l'oeil de l'animal
La vie paisible qui dure
Le calme impartial
De l'imperturbable nature
La bete connait la peur
Mais aussitot, elle avance
Et sur son champ d'abondance
Broute une presence
Qui n'a pas le gout d'ailleurs

Daiky, named Soccos before on this blog, is gone.
She died, my poor puppy, in a miserable way, in sad sad circumstances.
And now all that is left of her is our memories of her, and the short time I got to share with her in her infancy.
My goodness, I lost pets along the years but I don't seem to get used to the pain. It just sublimates into something else.
And this time, the weight is almost unbearable given the additional people tangled in this mourning. My two friends, both never through such a loss, both in a different country, both in such radically different emotional spaces and with radically different emotional responses. And both in this with their first for-legged companion, the first one any of them truly had, the first one they have as a couple, the one companion for one half when the other half is in another country.
I feel the sorrow deeply for them, their sense of loss is unbearable, the darkness is mighty and I can't do anything. I just witness, I just listen, I say something when I have to. But I can't do anything.

In my mind, there is a voice that speaks of how life is, how there is never a good time to get acquainted with it, and how privileged they were up until really and not really spared or doing things the right way to avoid such hardships. That voice speaks of the utter normality of death, the normality of little tragedies in the life of the average human, the maturity one has to develop facing their own mortality and that of those they love, the necessity of such lessons, the importance of looking through the pain and not reacting to it. That voice speaks of Gom Jabbar and trials of authentic humanity and humanitarian crisis and the call for actions and the sublimation of pain into something healthy and hopeful and... and... and...

But this voice doesn't take the wheel. This voice doesn't come out in conversations.

On one hand, these friends are nowhere near ready to have such conversations, even less right now. We will not be moving away from blaming everything around us for Daiky's death anytime soon.

On the other hand, I am feeling small and in a dark pit within myself in these days and I can't for the life of me help myself, I don't know how I could be of assistance or what I can give right now. I can barely hold it together for my own self. I listen, I take in the pain, I try my best to say something, to check, to find some solace for them. But inside, I see how hollow I am and I wonder what I am giving possibly, unless it is equally hollow, with no substance, just like the food I have been having steadily these days.

And studies don't stop or get any easier, and work commitments won't give me a break for some random non time framed BS. So I just get a hold of myself as much as I can.

Daiky sweet sweet girl, my baby puppy, you were a wonderful companion for the few months we got to be together in Casablanca. You opened doors for two people within them they didn't know they had. You allowed me to witness so much beauty unravel thanks to you, to be with you in hard times, in great times. In times of growth and intelligence, in times of compassion and complicity, you were there with me sweet sweet girl. I can't stop giving water to the dead and I don't know how I can come out of this one, so please look kindly upon us and grant us strength and might over the pain, that we sublimate it into something more merciful of us.

Please Daiky.