"To the impartial eye, the world not only seems an unlikely one-off phenomenon, but a constant strain on reason. If reason exists, that is, if a neutral reason exists. So speaks the voice from within. So speaks Joker's voice." - Jostein Gaarder

Monday, June 18, 2007

The Good Times

I haven't written a word for a long time, June almost passed, and for the second year i don't have the drive to congratulate this blog for its anniversary.

I've been thinking a lot, I've been feasting on what everyone else has been writing, I've been listening to music excessively, and again thinking a lot.

Abu Fares asked me to write about the good times, and I promised myself to do that, or at least to stop writing about the bad times, for a while...

Amongst all the violence surrounding us, all the violence we inflict on others, we inflict on ourselves... Amongst all the beating we serve ourselves for every slip up in life, for every word that might've got out wrong, all the self-consciousness, and my own.
Amongst a lot, a lot of depressions, middle aged men handing you flyers to half naked women that says 70 minutes for ¥25000, the loud voices coming out of everywhere telling you to buy this and buy that, even your teachers yelling that a period always comes after a sentence, never before.

There are these random moments of serenity, or honesty, you can call it happiness.

They never last enough for me to write about them, only enough for me to savor them.

Sitting on a random bench, in a random park, watching random people walk by.

Being able to deliver a thought, without repeating what you say in every possible syntax.

Drowning yourself completely in the world of a book, when you become that Kafka on The Shore.

Dancing the night away, dancing with every part of you, with every drop of sweat.

And, enjoying a cigarette and a cold bear after a long friday, listening to the few voices of people sitting on that one red couch, and watching the bar tender having his usual Jack Daniel's, with Tom Waits' vinyl playing in the background...

There are many things one can think about in these moments, many feelings that will escape you any other day...

And those were the days of roses, poetry and prose
And Martha all I had was you and all you had was me.
There was no tomorrows, we'd packed away our sorrows
And we saved them for a rainy day.

And I remember quiet evenings trembling close to you...
Tom Waits - Martha

1 Comments:

Blogger abufares said...

Here we go. It's the little pleasures that count.
Thank you for remembering my advise and great to know that you, I and everyone are able to steal those precious moments.

June 19, 2007 6:52 PM

 

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