26/12/2012
i, too, i ................. !!!
~
added: 27/12/2012
if i am sad, often, i come to the state of desiring to be un-sad. out of it. over it. behind it. in front of it. no, totally out of it.
and when i actually attempt to reach it,
i doubt myself if i was even any sad before.
hmmm
ice-cream is sweeet
so why do i bother !
23/12/2012
19/12/2012
" Co le toi da co rat nhieu, rat nhieu nhung can bep nhu the. Trong tim minh, hoac trong thuc tai. Hoac o mot noi rat xa ma toi se toi. Can bep chi co mot minh toi, hay co rat nhieu nguoi nua, hay chi co hai nguoi. Chac chan, toi se co rat nhieu, o tat ca nhung noi ma toi song. "
(Kitchen - Banana Yoshimoto)
12/12/2012
11/12/2012
09/12/2012
08/12/2012
I was reading a Chiharo Shiota's book yesterday afternoon.
Something about her written emotions
really touched me
p.33
-
After the performance I always wash my body.
Dirt upon dirt is everywhere. I try to wash myself, but it does not become
better. Or I am already clean, but something stayed. [...] I have
the impression that my body is abandoning me. It is not an answer or a question
about death; only my body is in a condition to accept anything. Even death.
When I look at the blue sky or the ocean, I am overwhelmed by the same emotion.
It is similar to the emotion after finishing a performance. Something I cannot wash away… I still do not
know what it is.
Something about her written emotions
really touched me
p.33
-
p.65
-
[...]
-
[...]
Diaspora
– you know already what that means. Originally, in Greek, it meant “to disperse
seeds”. It was a designation for the expelled Jews, and later came to be used
for people who have a shared cultural heritage but have been forced to leave
their native country and are now living in different places without the
possibility of returning. These people
are scattered to the four winds, only certain that their bodies cannot be snatched
away from them.
p. 79
-
-
It seems
to me that there is no way back, no matter where I go.
I feel
there is something common between the silence of the burnt piano and the
silence on my way home, and that this is deeply hidden in my heart.
The
threads are interwoven into each other. Get entangled. Are torn apart. And
disentangle themselves. It is like a mirror of feeling.
p. 131
-
[...]
p. 131
-
[...]
Days
later, the wind carried the smell of the extinguished fire over to us. I then
felt, every time I smelled it, that the smoke made me lose my voice.
This
happened twenty years ago. I always carry this silence with me. Deep in my
heart. When I try to express it, I lack the necessary words. But the silence
lasts. The more I think about it, the stronger it gets. The piano loses its
voice, the painter does not paint any more, the musician stops making music.
They lose
their function, but not their beauty. They even become more beautiful.
My true
word has no sound.
02/12/2012
Actions like ritualistic shaking or repeating a specific sound in the form of a mantra or chant are known ways of approaching or achieving altered states, of releasing individuals into an ego-less, trance-like zone in which there is no sense of time and where sense of self is so diffused that it ceases to be self and becomes all.
(Extract from "Nothing"- edited by Graham Gussin & Ele Carpenter)
28/11/2012
Ystd.
Yesterday early morning, I had a dream.
There was a spider, big, he must have been bigger than the size of a frying pan. Non-hairy,
Weaving his net, medium grey ; the "threads" looked, to me, like long and sturdy chains of liquorice candy. And it was a "he" spider, haha, really I have no idea why i just intrinsically knew that the spider is male.
Then he dropped to the floor; few things happened that I think not necessary to recall here. I struggled for quite a while to catch him and eventually, (heroically?), managed to actually killed him by dropping a spiral nonspecific object.
It was not scary to me, in any sense of scariness. but the dream has been struck in my head quite noticeably yesterday - especially, about the state of him -- weaving his mildly sensual grey-ish liquorice strings.
-
Almost felt I could reach and bite and eat and chew and taste those peculiar candy threads above me.
24/11/2012
23/11/2012
21/11/2012
09/11/2012
i am
really moody
today..
so
instead of
wasting the whole day for no good 'seasoning'
now
midnight
i read some John Cage's.
" Searching (outloud) for a way to read. Changing frequency. Going up and then going down: going to extremes. [...] A new breadth for each new event. Any event that follows a space is a new event. Making music by reading outloud. To read. To breathe. IV: equation between letters and silence. Making language saying nothing at all. What's in mind is to stay up all night reading. "
mass storage
mold
mold
mend
u melt
i melt
but we can't
- together
.
.
daylight i enjoy
so why sleep-talk ?
05/11/2012
03/11/2012
sometimes - urges of forcing myself to be emotionally distant. to detach all sentiments for, say, an object, a situation, a happening, people, whatever is melting me inside. to balance my imbalance, that - my weakest point - weekness of losing control over emotional fluctuation.
detachment is almost as important as getting attached.
when you get closer to someone, also need to have the tinge sense of knowing how to not get close to that someone at the same time. so you won't absorb too much. or won't get wet.
close-ness gets scary sometimes.
..
ya, maybe.
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