– feeds your head
I am a writer. But I am also a dyslexic. And if you have read some of the previous post here, you may have noticed that. And yes, I love spell check programs, but they don’t catch everything. (Spell check program. Isn’t that a fantastic name by the way? A program that makes sure that your magic is correct.)
So, writing and dyslexia. Strange combination one might think. And in a way I suppose it is, but at the same time I think my dyslexia has actually made language and writing even dearer to me. The fact that I had really had to struggle for it and never took it for granted made me realize just how valuable it is. Because learning how to read didn’t come easy to me. I was not one of those kids who just pick it up on their own. For me it was a fight. But I wanted it so badly that there was never even a question about the outcome. I entered that fight to win. And I did. I finally conquered the art of written communication and there hasn’t been a day since that I haven’t cherished and celebrated that victory. Read more of this post
Being a writer words and language and books and the act of writing itself are of course a few of the things closes to my heart in this world. They are my weapons of choice so to speak. How I make sense of everything. But music is equally important. And in a way it fills a similar function. Music helps me get grounded. And by that I don’t mean that music keeps my mind settled in any way, it doesn’t tie me down, quite the opposite. Music liberates my thoughts and my emotions. It helps me through life. And as dramatic as that may sound, it’s actually true. I can give a list of albums that has been the soundtrack of my life for certain periods. Albums that I honestly think were instrumental in keeping what can arguably be referred to as my sanity. Without these records I really don’t know how I could have pulled through. And in some cases it took me years before I could listen to them again. I talked about this with a friend of mine, about how music can get so intimately connected and intertwined with your memories that you just can’t listen to certain records anymore. They are somehow tainted with the past. A past you don’t want to relive. He threw all those records away. He went into the woods and screaming at the top of his lungs he hurled them into the dark of the forest. I can fully understand this act. I can understand the cathartic effect of doing something like that. But I could never do it. Never. I need to keep all these tainted records. I need to have them with me. And it’s not because I want to dwell in the misery that they recreate, it’s because I am so immensely grateful to the people who made them. Their art guided me through a certain time in my life, helped me pull through to the other side, back to firm ground, so how could I ever throw that art away? I am not a religious person, but for me that would be blasphemy. And I also know that there will come a day when I can listen to that record without the pain. When I can once again really listen to the music and appreciate all those qualities that drew me to it in the first place. Because I still love these records. I just can’t listen to them. Read more of this post
I know it’s easy to see synchronicities where there actually might not be any, but still. I was making a cup of tea and with this particular tea every teabag comes with some words of supposedly eastern wisdom. And even before I looked I just knew that today’s words of wisdom were going to be a slap in the face. And so it was: “The head has to bow to the heart.” Oh yeah fuck me. Because obviously that’s precisely what I have been obsessing about for the past days – why the heart just can’t seem to get with the program. Why the heart just refuses to listen to any type of logical arguments. And if I was a different person I might have seen this act of universal face slapping as a sign and settled in on the realization that “oh my god it is true” but seeing as I am in fact me, I saw it as an incitement to dig deeper. I almost always do. I just don’t buy it. “The head has to bow to the heart.” Bite me, that’s bullshit. Even the heart has to have a reason and a reason can be found out. A reason can be understood. And there is a reason for everything. The heart is no exception. Those alleged words of wisdom is just another way of saying that you shouldn’t think too much about some things. Read more of this post
This whole life long monogamy thing, it’s a pretty new invention. This whole couples and romantic love thing. And I am wondering if it’s not just a way to keep us passive, occupied. A way to hold us back. We are fed with the dream of that perfect partner that will make your life complete. It’s all up to you to make it work. Love as the one salvation. The one and only thing that will make your life complete. The main theme of your life. And somehow it seems a bit like a hype. Unsubstantiated. Don’t get me wrong; I have nothing against love per se. I like I love. Love is a good thing. I love. It’s not about that. I just wonder if we may not have a very warped and twisted idea of what love actually is. This whole idea of romantic love. What does it actually mean? “And they lived happily ever after.” Did they? And just what the hell did they do while they were doing that? The two become one, and then what? And even more important, what happens before that? Is it all just about that one long search for the perfect partner? Is that the whole purpose? And what if you don’t find that perfect someone? What then? Does that mean you failed? Read more of this post
There are a lot of puzzling phenomena in this world. One of the more puzzling ones is nationalism: The idea that you can somehow acquire value by-proxy, without actually having to do anything actively. Passive superiority. Just because I happened to be born in this particular country I am intrinsically better than everyone who wasn’t. Seriously, how can anyone be arrogant enough to actually believe that? How pitiful are you? How mind bogglingly stupid? “I am proud to be [insert any of the hundreds of artificially constructed nation concepts here].” Why? What possible reason could you have to be proud over the fact that you happened to be born within a certain artificially constructed geographical area? Exactly how did you contribute to this random event? It’s stupid on so many levels. Not only because of the total randomness of the whole event, but also because of the simple reason that the concept of nations is a pure construction. They are not predetermined. They exist only because we have constructed them through our language and our actions. We have defined their borders and their meaning and it is an ongoing process. Constantly evolving with borders being redefined over and over again. And it’s a process not driven by a desire to better the world, but as a means to ensure the prosperity of one group at the expense of others. Us against them. It’s the tribe blown way out of proportion and taken far beyond the boundaries of the absurd. Taken to the level of idiocy. Read more of this post
A while back I saw Slipknot live. The venue wasn’t very good, nor was the actual concert, but this is not a concert review. And on a side note, I actually don’t think I would be able to write a concert review in the normal sense. Unlike a lot of people I know, I can’t remember the set list after a concert. I am not even sure of what songs were played, let alone in what order, even if it is a concert with a band whose entire body of work I know. I wouldn’t even be able to do it at gunpoint. My brain just doesn’t register the music that way. But what my brain did register was an event that took place at that particular concert.
At one point Corey Taylor, the singer, asks the audience to squat down. And everyone does. Everyone is squatting down on the floor and Corey is cheering them on up from the stage. I am just standing there. Looking at the bizarre event taking place in front of me. And I remember thinking “are they insane?” Read more of this post
I have been thinking a lot about blame lately. Casting blame. People seem to have a very strong need for doing that. Finding a scapegoat. If something goes wrong, when terrible things happen, there has to be someone to blame.
I first got to thinking about this through something that happened to a friend of mine. A terrible, tragic thing happened and hence there was a need for a scapegoat. There just had to be someone to blame for it all, because people cannot simply accept that yes, sometimes very bad things happen and it’s not always possible to find that one person whose fault it is. So blame was cast. And this is what made me think. Read more of this post
jc.tryps 