Monday, June 7, 2010

Coincidences

Some time ago, I've opened up to and got disappointed by a person who felt OK with opening up to and got disappointed by another person. Neither me nor that person have seen it coming.

My best friend has a microwave oven called "Candy". So do all the kitchens inside a few dormitories my faculty owns.

I went driving the other day and, when I was driving past the church entrance, The God that failed burst out of the speakers inside the car. Funny, considering my background :-).

While on my way home, I've found out that Never enough is Never enough indeed. Two different perspectives, on a shuffled playlist, with zero manual intervention, out of a few hundred songs...

That's about it on this topic for today. I don't consider they have any significance whatsoever.
"In the end we're all just chalk lines on the concrete, Drawn only to be washed away."

Cheers!

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Emotional dyslexia

I guess that's what we tend to see so often out there, around us, today. We get pounded with "what do you like? what do you get pleasure out of?" and whatnot? so... we become emotionally blind to those in front of us. Should the way each of us transposes their feelings into actions, attitudes and vibrations (be it word, be it touch or simple gestures) be considered a form of written communication, most of those I know are practically dyslexic.

What concerns me most, however, is that a lot of the same folks I know gradually develop a more and more potent form of alexia... like... when someone breaks your trust and turns the one you were into a defiled form of your own self? And then you hear people "no, you can't feel something, anything just like that, for anyone!" - then, I wonder, how the fuck can one plummet from a decent person into a cold hearted humanoid? I mean... if that's possible - and we all know it is, since we've seen it with our own eyes, most likely - why isn't the opposite allowed to happen? Ah, no, wait... it takes time to build, right... :-) It takes mere instants to obliterate, however.

All those days we spend waiting won't come back, just as the title song claims, for time is no boomerang to turn tail and run back into our arms. Would've been nice, though. :-)

Is it perfection or vanity to be able to lie to ourselves and talk ourselves into whatever we feel like becoming? I don't know and I don't really care... or that's what I'm trying to talk myself into. I can barely spot a few glimpses of success, however.