cum te cheama?

cunosti numele pe care ti l-au dat,
nu cunosti numele pe care-l ai

–jose saramago

A change of seasons

I remember a time
My frail, virgin mind
Watched the crimson sunrise
Imagined what it might find
Life was filled with wonder
I felt the warm wind blow
I must explore the boundaries
Transcend the depth of winter’s snow

Innocence caressing me
I never felt so young before
There was so much life in me
Still I longed to search for more

But those days are gone now
Changed like a leaf on a tree
Blown away forever
Into the cool autumn breeze
The snow has now fallen
And my sun’s not so bright
I struggle to hold on
With the last of my might

In my den of inequity
Viciousness and subtlety
Struggle to ease the pain
Struggle to find the same

Ignorance surrounding me
I’ve never been so filled with fear
All my life’s been drained from me
The end is drawing near…

[III. Carpe Diem]

„Carpe diem
Seize the day”

I’ll always remember
The chill of November
The news of the fall
The sounds in the hall
The clock on the wall
Ticking away
„Seize the Day”
I heard him say
Life will not always be this way
Look around
Hear the sounds
Cherish your life
While you’re still around

(„Gather ye rosebuds while ye may)
(Old Time is still a-flying;)
(And this same flower that smiles today)
(Tomorrow will be dying”)

We can learn
From the past
But those days
Are gone
We can hope
For the future
But there might not be one

The words stuck in my mind
Alive from what I’ve learned
I have to seize the day
To home I returned

Preparing for her flight
I held with all my might
Fearing my deepest fright
She walked into the night
She turned for one last look
She looked me in the eye
I said, „I Love You…
Good-bye”

(„It’s the most awful thing you’ll ever hear”)
(„If you’re lying to me…”)
(„Oh, you dearly love her”)
(„…just have to leave…)
(All our lives”)
(„Seize the day!”)
(„Something happened”)
(„Gather ye rosebuds while ye may”)
(„She was killed”)

[IV. The Darkest Of Winters]

[Instrumental]

[V. Another World]

So far or so it seems
All is lost
With nothing fulfilled
Off the pages and the
T.V. screen
Another world
Where nothing’s true

Tripping through
The life fantastic
Lose a step
And never get up
Left alone
With a cold blank stare
I feel like giving up

I was blinded by a paradise
Utopia high in the sky
A dream that only drowned me
Deep in sorrow, wondering why

Oh come let us adore him
Abuse and then ignore him
No matter what
Don’t let him be
Let’s feed upon his misery
Then string him up for all the world to see

I’m sick of all
Your hypocrites
Holding me at bay
And I don’t need
Your sympathy
To get me through the day

Seasons change and so can I
Hold on Boy
No time to cry
Untie these strings
I’m climbing down
I won’t let them push me away

Oh come let us adore him
Abuse and then ignore him
No matter what
Don’t let him be
Let’s feed upon
His misery
Now it’s time for them
To deal with me

[VI. The Inevitable Summer]

[Instrumental]

[VII. The Crimson Sunset]

I’m much wiser now
A lifetime of memories
Run through my head
They taught me how
For better or worse
Alive or dead
I realize
There’s no turning back
Life goes on
The offbeaten track

I sit down with my son
Set to see the Crimson Sunset
(Gather ye rosebuds while ye may)
Many years have come and gone
I’ve lived my life, but now must move on
(Gather ye rosebuds while ye may)
He’s my only one
Now that my time has come
Now that my life is done
We look into the sun
„Seize the day
And don’t you cry
Now it’s time
To say good-bye
Even though
I’ll be gone
I will live on
Live on”

Muzică

 

 

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„We are boys and girls

Of the new world treading young.

We just want to find something.

We just want to lose control

of our thoughts… of our thoughts….”

Avalon

 

imdb

Cu ușile închise

 

INES: (se uita la el fară frică, dar cu o mare mirare): Ha! (Pauză.) Stai, am înțeles, știu de ce ne-au strîns laolaltă.

GARCIN: Ia seama la ce vei spune.

INES: O sa vedeți ce simplu e. Simplu ca bună ziua. Nu există tortură fizică, nu-i așa? Si totuși, sîntem în iad. Și nu urmează să mai vină nimeni. Nimeni. Vom rămîne împreună pînă la capat. Asa e? În fond mai lipsește totuși cineva: călaul.

GARCIN (cu glas scăzut): Știu prea bine.

INES: Ei bine, au realizat o economie de personal. Asta-i tot. Clienții fac serviciul ei însisi, ca în restaurantele cu autoservire.

ESTELLE: Ce vrei sa spui?

INES: Călaul este fiecare dintre noi pentru ceilalti doi.

……….

ESTELLE: Ah, da, pe dinăuntru… Tot ce se petrece în capete este atît de vag, mă adoarme. (Pauză.) în camera mea sînt șase oglinzi mari. Le văd. Le văd. Dar ele nu mă vad pe mine. Se oglindesc în ele divanul, covorul, fereastra… ce goală e o oglindă în care nu sînt eu. Cînd stăteam de vorbă cu cineva, mă aranjam totdeauna să stau în asa fel ca sa mă pot privi în oglindă. Vorbeam și mă vedeam vorbind. Mă vedeam cum mă vedeau oamenii, asta mă ținea trează. (Cu deznădejde.) Rujul meu! Sînt sigură că m-am mînjit. Oricum, nu pot sa stau fară oglindă o veșnicie.

………..

INES: Hai, hai, sînt o oglinda de prins ciocîrlii, te-am prins, ciocîrlia mea mica! Nu e nici o pată. Nici cea mai mică urmă. Vezi? Dacă oglinda se apuca să minta? Sau dacă aș închide ochii, dacă aș refuza să te privesc, ce-ai face cu toată frumusetea ta? Nu-ti fie frica, trebuie să te privesc, ochii mei vor rămîne larg deschiși. Și o sa fiu draguță cu tine, draguță de tot. Dar ai sa-mi spui: tu.

………..

INES: Am sa-ți spun mai tîrziu. Eu însă sînt rautacioasă, asta înseamnă ca am nevoie de suferința celorlalți ca sa exist. Ca o faclie. O făclie în inimi. Cînd sînt singură, mă sting. Timp de șase luni, am ars în inima ei, am facut-o scrum. Intr-o noapte s-a sculat, s-a dus sa deschida robinetele de gaz fara ca eu să banuiesc, și apoi s-a culcat la loc lîngă mine. Asta e.

………

INES: Ah, să uiți. Ce copilarie! îți simt prezența pînă-n măduva oaselor. Tăcerea dumitale îmi tipă în urechi. Poți să-ți coși buzele, poți să-ti tai limba, parcă asta o sa te împiedice să mai exiști? Și-ți vei putea opri gîndurile? Le aud, fac tic-tac ca un deșteptător, și știu că și dumneata le auzi pe ale mele. Oricît te-ai înfunda într-un colț de canapea, ești peste tot. Sunetele îmi parvin mînjite, pentru ca le-ai auzit pe parcurs. Mi-ai furat pînă și fața: dumneata o cunoști, iar eu n-o mai cunosc. Și ea? Ea? Mi-ai furat-o dumneata: daca eram sin­gure, crezi c-ar îndrăzni sa se poarte cu mine asa cum se poartă? Nu, nu: ia-ți mîinile de pe față, n-am să te las asa, nu, n-am sa te las în pace: ar fi prea comod. Ai sta acolo insensibil, cufundat în dumneata însuti ca un Buda, iar eu aș simți chiar și cu ochii închiși că ea îti dedică toate micile zgomote ale vieții ei, pînă și foșnetul rochiei, si că-ți trimite zîmbete pe care nu le vezi… Nu așa! Vreau să-mi aleg infer­nul; vreau să vă privesc cu ochii deschiși și să lupt cu fața descoperită.

……….

„GARCIN: Bronzul… (îl mîngîie.) Iata, a venit momentul. Bronzul e aici, îl contemplu si înteleg ca sînt în infern. Va spun ca totul a fost prevazut. Au prevazut c-o sa stau în fata acestui camin, apasîndu-mi mîna pe acest bronz si toate privirile astea pe mine. Toate privirile astea care rod… (Se întoarce brusc.) Cum! sînteti numai doua? Va cre­deam mult mai numeroase. (Rîde.) Va sa zica asta e infer­nul. N-as fi crezut niciodata… Va aduceti aminte: pucioasa, rugul, smoala… Ah, ce mai gluma. Nu-i nevoie de flacari si de smoala, infernul sînt ceilalti oameni.”

……….

Fragmente din piesa de teatru Cu ușile închise, de J.P. Sartre

 

 

 

 

Un bec aprins nu lumineaza. Un bec aprins face doar lumina.

A venit iarna. Afara miroase a iarna. In casa miroase focul in soba. Timpul nu mai trece, sta in loc. E un moment de stagnare totala. Nimic nu se misca, nimic nu doarme. Totul e treaz. Pomii stau si asista la peisajul nocturn. Fiecare priveste din alt unghi. Impreuna ar putea crea o fotografie panoramica.  Si totusi nimeni nu face nimic. Nimic nu face nimeni. E un inceput de ger. Daca pica ceva din cer, e numai pentru ca ceva pica, nu pentru ca cineva ar face ca ceva sa pice. Peisajul asta se intinde peste tot, chiar daca este local. Nu are importanta. Importanta e mintea care crede ca peisajul se intinde peste tot.  Mai sunt si amintiri, si ganduri care se intreaba la ce folosesc amintirile pe care nu le uiti toata viata. Mai sunt si pisici care dorm si viseaza oameni care fac lucruri pe care nu le inteleg. Si cainii tot la fel viseaza. Mai sunt si frunzele cazute din pomi care in curand vor disparea asa cum dispar (se ascund) toate. Si chiar daca ele dispar, asta nu inseamna ca nu sunt incremenite intr-un moment aparent vesnic, de neuitat, intr-un moment care continua fara sa se miste.  Dispar fara sa faca nimic. Nimic nu canta, nimeni nu mai doreste nimic. E  frumos. E de ajuns. Daca cineva sau ceva s-ar gandi la frumusetea din jur, timpul ar porni si totul si-ar relua cursul firesc din fiecare zi. Asa ca incerc sa nu o fac. Un bec aprins nu lumineaza. Un bec aprins face doar lumina. Soarele pe cer lumineaza. Luna lumineaza noaptea. Luna uneori isi ia lumina din noapte. Noptile cele mai negre sunt noptile a caror lumina a fost furata in toatalitate. Focul se stinge daca nu e hranit.

A venit iarna. Si continua sa vina. Si chiar daca vine continuu, e inghetata ca o statuie. Sta si se uita si totusi nu face nimic.

E de ajuns. In liniste totul e iluminat. Si crengile copacilor inteleg linistea.

Ca sa intelegi linistea nu trebuie sa taci si nici sa-i faci pe altii sa taca.

Linistea e totul. Altcineva ar zice ca si iubirea e totul si ca totul se misca nebuneste pentru ca nimeni nu stie sa iubeasca. Altcineva ar zice ca nimic nu merita mentionat, tot ce se mentioneaza e mai anonim decat tacerea. Nu stiu. Indiferent de pareri, totul e incorporat intr-o gheata destul de groasa ca sa nu poata fi sparta asa usor. Si ce daca. Nu e nimic rau in asta. A fi frig nu e mai rau decat a fi cald. Sau frigul este prost inteles. Frigul e, uneori, asa de calduros incat se teme sa nu se topeasca de rusine. O rusine inghetata. O rusine care sta si nu se manifesta in nici un fel, existand, in acelasi timp.

O idee gre…ta: tot ce sta nu exista.

O idee: totul sta, fara sa isi dea seama. Miscarea e o iluzie.

Nimic nu e iluzie. Orice exista. Difera doar ……………………………………………………………………..

 

Lanark

„…Thank you, I don’t smoke,” said Lanark, cooling a little. A while later Lanark said, „Would you tell me exactly what the creature is?” „A conspiracy which owns and manipulates everything for profit.” „Are you talking about the wealthy?” „Yes, but not the wealthy in coins and banknotes–that sort of wealth is only coloured beads to keep the makers servile. The owners and manipulators have smarter ways of banking energy. They pay themselves with time: time to think and plan, time to examine necessity from a distance.” An old man leaning on a stick and a dark young man with a turban entered and stood talking quietly by the pillar. Grant’s loud voice had been even and passionless, but suddenly he said, „What I hate most is their conceit. Their institute breaks whole populations into winners and losers and calls itself culture. Their council destroys every way of life which doesn’t bring them a profit and calls itself government. They pretend culture and government are supremely independent powers when they are nothing but gloves on the hands of Volstat and Quantum, Cortexin and Algolagnics. And they really think they are the foundation. They believe their greed holds up the continents. They don’t call it greed, of course, they call it profit, or (among themselves, where they don’t need to fool anyone) killings. They’re sure that only their profit allows people to make and eat things.” „Maybe that’s true.” „Yes, because they make it true. But it isn’t necessary. Old men remember when the makers unexpectedly produced enough for everyone. No crop failed, no mine was exhausted, no machinery broke down, but the creature dumped mountains of food in the ocean because the hungry couldn’t pay a profitable price for it, and the shoemaker’s children went shoeless because their father had made too many shoes. And the makers accepted this as though it was an earthquake! They refused to see they could make what they needed for each other and to hell with profit. They would have seen in the end, they would have had to see, if the council had not gone to war.” „How did that help?” „As the creature couldn’t stay rich by selling necessary things to the folk who made them it sold destructive things to the council. Then the war started and the destructive things were used to wreck the necessary things. The creature profited by replacing both.” „Who did the council fight?” „It split in two and fought itself.” „That’s suicide!” „No, ordinary behaviour. The efficient half eats the less efficient half and grows stronger. War is just a violent way of doing what half the people do calmly in peacetime: using the other half for food, heat, machinery and sexual pleasure. Man is the pie that bakes and eats himself, and the recipe is separation.” „I refuse to believe men kill each other just to make their enemies rich.” „How can men recognize their real enemies when their family, schools and work teach them to struggle with each other and to believe law and decency come from the teachers?” „My son won’t be taught that,” said Lanark firmly. „You have a son?” „Not yet.” The chapterhouse had filled with chattering groups and Ritchie-Smollet moved among them collecting signatures in a book. There were many young people in bright clothing, old eccentric men in tweeds and a large confusion of in-between people. Lanark decided that if this was the new government of Unthank he was not impressed. Their manners were shrill and vehement or languid and bored. Some had the mark of the council on their brow but nobody displayed the calm, well-contained strength of men like Monboddo, Ozenfant and Munro. Lanark said, „Could you tell me about this committee?” „I’m getting round to it. The war ended with the creature and its organs more dominant than ever. Naturally there was a lot of damage to repair, but that only took half our time and energy. If industry and government had been commanding us for the common good (as they pretend to do), the continents would have become gardens, gardens of space and light where everyone had time to care for their lovers, children and neighbours without crowding and tormenting them. But these vast bodies only cooperate to kill or crush. Once again the council began feeding the creature by splitting the world in two and preparing a war. But it ran into unexpected trouble–” „Stop! You’re simplifying,” said Lanark. „You talk as if all government was one thing, but there are many kinds of government, and some are crueller than others.” „Oh, yes,” said Grant, nodding. „An organization which encloses a globe must split into departments. But you’re a very ordinary victim of council advertising if you think the world is neatly split between good governments and bad.” „What was the council’s unexpected trouble?” „The creature supplied it with such vast new weapons that a few of them could poison the world. Most folk are dour and uncomplaining about their own deaths, but the death of their children depresses them. The council tried to pretend the new weapons weren’t weapons at all but homes where everyone could live safely, but for all that an air of protest spread even to the council corridors. Many who had never dreamed of governing themselves began complaining loudly. This committee is made of complainers.” „Has complaint done any good?” „Some, perhaps. The creature still puts time and energy into vast weapons and sells them to the council, but recent wars have been fought with smaller weapons and kept to the less industrial continents. Meanwhile the creature has invented peaceful ways of taking our time and energy. It employs us to make essential things badly, so they decay fast and have to be replaced. It bribes the council to destroy cheap things which don’t bring it a profit and replaces them with new expensive things which do. It pays us to make useless things and employs scientists, doctors and artists to persuade us that these are essential…”

Alasdair Gray – Lanark. A Life in Four Books

Povestea sovietelor

 

Documentarul întreg, pe jurnaltv.ro

„For his in-depth survey of Soviet crimes against humanity, including Soviet cooperation with the Third Reich, Latvian director Edvins Snore was burned in effigy by Neo-Soviet Russians. It is an ominous badge of honor.

Soviet Story acts as an effective corrective to the popular notion that the Communist experiment only turned horrific when Stalin ascended to power. The film documents orders mandating mass executions, estimated in the tens of millions, originating with the father of the revolution, Lenin. Still, it is devilishly difficult to outdo Stalin’s sheer capacity for terror. For instance, the deliberate use of famine to pacify Ukraine is explained here in chilling detail. In a crime against humanity largely ignored by the West, seven million Ukrainians were intentionally starved in the cordoned Republic, as foodstuffs were confiscated at gunpoint by the Red Army.

The heart of Soviet Story explores the close ideological similarities and barbaric collusion between the Soviet Socialists of Stalin and the National Socialists of Hitler. There is an eerie sequence juxtaposing thematically similar propaganda posters from both regimes, side-by-side on-screen. Even more damning are the documents Snore uncovers establishing close links between the SS and the Soviet NKVD (the precursor to the KGB), discussing among other issues, the „Jewish Question.” They did not just talk—they carved up Poland between themselves, and at Stalin’s prompting, staked their claims to the rest of Europe.

Soviet Story is most devastating when discussing the ways in which the more advanced Soviet killing machine served as the inspiration and model for the Holocaust. According former Soviet intelligence officer Viktor Suvorov: „A delegation of German Gestapo and SS came to the Soviet Union to learn how to build concentration camps.” Snore has produced a chilling indictment of the Soviet experience with socialism. He calls some very convincing witnesses, including Bukovsky, and the eloquent Cambridge historians Norman Davies and George Watson. As evidence, he produces some shocking archival film and documents. However, as the film makes clear, none of those who did (and still do) the Soviet dirty work has ever faced justice for their crimes. All told, Snore has produced a passionate but thoroughly reasoned case against the Soviet regime.” – Trevor Johnes/imdb

Listen up – there’s no war that will end all wars.

Man is a genius when he is dreaming.

Akira Kurosawa

Myths are public dreams, dreams are private myths.

Joseph Campbell

Only in our dreams are we free. The rest of the time we need wages.

Terry Pratchett

The best way to make your dreams come true is to wake up.

Paul Valery

Exista vise simbolice, vise care simbolizeaza realitatea. Sau exista realitati simbolice, realitati care simbolizeaza vise.

Haruki Murakami

If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking.

Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.

Haruki Murakami, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

It’s like Tolstoy said. Happiness is an allegory, unhappiness a story.

Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

Listen up – there’s no war that will end all wars.

Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it.

Haruki Murakami, Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman: 24 Stories

Silence, I discover, is something you can actually hear.

Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

The most important thing we learn at school is the fact that the most important things can’t be learned at school.

Haruki Murakami, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

I’m not so weird to me.

Haruki Murakami

It is not true that people stop pursuing dreams because they grow old, they grow old because they stop pursuing dreams.

Gabriel Garcia Marquez

You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.

Friedrich Nietzsche

We do not belong to those who only get their thought from books, or at the prompting of books, – it is our custom to think in the open air, walking, leaping, climbing, or dancing on lonesome mountains by preference, or close to the sea, where even the paths become thoughtful.

Friedrich Nietzsche

I have 
 seen the 
 future and
  it doesn't work.
                                   -- Robert Fulford

 

Eckhart Tolle

“The primary cause of unhappiness is never the situation but your thoughts about it.”

“Give up defining yourself – to yourself or to others. You won’t die. You will come to life. And don’t be concerned with how others define you. When they define you, they are limiting themselves, so it’s their problem. Whenever you interact with people, don’t be there primarily as a function or a role, but as the field of conscious Presence. You can only lose something that you have, but you cannot lose something that you are.”

“Life is the dancer and you are the dance.”

“Whatever you fight, you strengthen, and what you resist, persists.”

“Accept – then act. Whatever the present moment contains, accept it as if you had chosen it. Always work with it, not against it.”

“Humanity is now faced with a stark choice: Evolve or die. … If the structures of the human mind remain unchanged, we will always end up re-creating the same world, the same evils, the same dysfunction.”

“…the past gives you an identity and the future holds the promise of salvation, of fulfillment in whaterver form. Both are illusions.”

“Man made God in his own image…”

“Don’t Seek Happiness. If you seek it, you won’t find it, because seeking is the antithesis of happiness”

“Any action is often better than no action, especially if you have been stuck in an unhappy situation for a long time. If it is a mistake, at least you learn something, in which case it’s no longer a mistake. If you remain stuck, you learn nothing.”

“The greatest achievement of humanity is not its works of art, science, or technology, but the recognition of its own dysfunction.”

“Each person’s life – each lifeform,
in fact – represents a world, a
unique way in which the universe experiences itself.”

“When faced with a radical crisis, when the old way of being in the world, of interacting with each other and with the realm of nature doesn’t work anymore, when survival is threatened by seemingly insurmountable problems, an individual life-form – or a species – will either die or become extinct or rise above the limitations of its condition through an evolutionary leap.”