Musings on a winter day:

So after I was gone from the face of the planet for about two months, I thought I should show my big, bright smile around here again. Since my last post I entered the new year, I passed all my exams, I read a few books, dreamed about white skin and cold hands, started the second semester of my second year, laughed, cried, got pissed off and on the same note I went through all the human emotions.

Right now I am sitting in my dorm room, perched up on my upstairs bed, looking at my room mate as she is warming up a cup of tea. I am a little bored right now, wasting time doing absolutely nothing, looking around myself and realising that life is more or less a complete waste of time.

I just feel everything passing by me, nothing is different, nothing is happening, while I just sit here. I have this mental image of a figure standing completely still, while the whole world is moving all around it, at an alert pace. Maybe in a way it is important to just take a break from all the things around you and analyse, think, perceive the world as it really is, while everything around you is in a blur of speed and agitation.

In all honesty, I like this rhythm of my life, at a slow controlled pace, taking it all in. This is me in a weird way of looking at things, but I don’t mind. While with a goal set I am fast and driven, alert and just a little hectic, without one, everything around me just seems to slow down, from my heartbeat to my breathing, to the people passing me by on the street, to the water running in the sink.

Tick tack, tick tack...

[photo: gorjuss Art - Suzanne Woolcott, 'Driftwood' ]

My imagination has gotten the better of me, probably because of sleep deprivation. Honestly, during vacations I usually turn my internal clock upside down. For a simple explanation, let’s just say that I indulge myself during this time of the year by watching movies non-stop, cooking and intensive holiday cleaning (the last one does not enter the above mentioned category of indulgence). This also means going to sleep at around 5 am and waking up around 11 or 12 the next day. I am like this for the entire 2 weeks of Christmas vacation since, probably, high-school.

So, of course, the madness that my subconscious has become, has also brought into focus one of my long obsessions regarding sleep. For a while, I have thought sleep as a complete waste of time or, better said, a weakness in the human body. We all know that 8 hours of sleep per night are essential for a healthy lifestyle. A study demonstrated that cognitive performance declines with fewer than 8 hours of sleep.

All of this led to me imagining a world where rest was not needed. That would imply that out of the 24 hours in a day, we would not be ‘wasting’ at least 8 of them doing ‘nothing’. In the ever-moving society that we inhabit, work takes at least 8 hours per day, but of course, considering the fact that big companies and multinationals have a very competitive working environment, employees are forced, in a way, to do everything they can to get ahead of their rivals, that also meaning working overtime. Successful people usually work up to 11 or 12 hours in a day. In a world where sleep is not needed, I have an inkling suspicion that no one would actually increase the percentage of free time in a day, but rather the work hours put in at the office.

The thing is that in my utopian little world, everyone works in a multinational or a big company. If you can not sense the sarcasm, let me make it clear: I am ironic. Maybe there are persons that are going to take advantage of all of this, maybe factory people that will be happy to get out, to spend more time with their families, to have hobbies, to enjoy life. That is, if nobody will increase the number of work hours.

I have to consider poverty also. When you sleep, you tend to forget about everything, about the hard life that is waiting outside of your dreams, about the hunger in your stomach, about the pains in your body. You sleep more with the intention to numb your senses, to dull everything to a simple ache. Without even the notion of sleep, reality would literally devour you, with all its hardships.

Another aspect that I should examine when eliminating the need for sleep, is the lack of dreams, or even nightmares. People dream to let their subconscious analyse whatever happened during the day, and prepare them for the next one, at the same time. Without rest, the subliminal will, of course, just have to work at the same time with the conscious part of our brain, in order to take the amount of time it needs to analyse everything. But dreams would disappear. No more staying in bed just imagining what could be, hopping for a better future; there would be no more nightmares for the troubled minds, no more sleepless nights for those with a heavy mind. In a way I would be eliminating our conscience, because when you keep busy, you tend to not have enough time to stop and think everything through, to consider the consequences of your actions. All of us would require a Jiminy Cricket of our own. Joke aside, where would our society be, in such a world?

There are so many aspects that should be analyzed in such a situation, but this is not an essay, it is just a post, with a lot of economic influences, for which college is to be blamed.

[photo: www.photobucket.com, Kurt Halsey Frederiksen]

‘It’s been 9 months, 14 days and 3 hours since I have been stuck in this place. In this wonderful place where life is simply pulled out of me bit by bit, where my soul is broken into a million pieces, leaving me haunted and empty. I can hear patrolling outside, heavy steps hitting the muddy ground. Rain has been coming down in gallons for the past few days, it is sad and wet, while even time seems to have stopped altogether… seconds into hours, hours into days and days into weeks. This year is the longest of my life, this year is my entire life, because there is no future beyond it and I can’t remember a past before it. Have I ever lived in another time and in another place?!

I don’t remember anymore. I go outside. The cigarette in my hand in tattered and ruined, but I smoke it anyway. It is the only one I have left. The smoke is filling my lungs, killing me little by little, but not fast enough for my liking. I am sitting in the door, trying to avoid the rain. I crush what is left of my fag in the mud bellow my feet. My boots are almost broken, the water is sipping through the holes in the sole and my socks are getting dirtier. Hmm … I don’t care anymore, if it’s cold or warm it is the same to me. I take a few more steps outside; my face now invaded by a thousand small drops of water. It’s cold and clean. I can feel for a split second once again, a difference from everything else around me at this point. It’s gone. It left as soon as it came. But that, I want that back, the ability to feel, the ability to understand things around me once again.

No matter how much pain is inflicted on me, I can’t sense it after so much time, even in the shower I don’t feel anything anymore. I am dead on the inside. My body has stopped responding to the life around it.

I re-enter the room I just vacated. It is damp and the smell of mould is invading my senses. The bed in the corner is wet and the mattress is ruined, while the sprints are digging into my back every time I sit on it. Pointless.

I put the gun on the wooden table. I trace the cold metal with my forefinger. Fascinating. To be able to feel again, to be able to hold her and love her once more. What more could I wish for?!’

From outside the barrack two men sitting for a smoke away from the pouring rain hear a gun shot.
Pity…

[photo: Angel, Falling : Final by *GwenGothIllustration, www.deviantart.com]

Things going through my mind at the moment: Frank Sinatra ‘Singing in the rain’; a boy buying two Coca-Cola cans just to reach higher for the Pepsi button; rainbows and rolling stones; 250,000 bouncing balls going down a San Francisco hill; my grandmother’s tired voice in the telephone; mountain trips; French seminars; International Trade essays; autumn leaves; kisses under a cherry tree; 22:01… 22:02; tea and hookahs; heartbeats; bad grapes; wet long hair; cold shivers; spoiled apples; the crashing of a wave on a deserted beach; double beds; carefree summers; lime tea with lemon; hot chocolate; warm cheese sandwiches; cold hands; one month; three months; white tulips, anniversaries; snow; fog; ice; freshly baked bread; warm rooms; novels; glasses; oil lamps; candles; ; bubble baths; puppies; black cats; good luck charms...

Are you tired yet of the labyrinth that my mind is?!...
I am...
[photo: weheartit.com/user/astronautas]

Lukewarm water, noisy faucets, dirty sinks and rusty tubs;
Old pluming, dusty shelves, stained windows and broken wood,
All of this and then some more are around me, feeling sore.
Live and breathe, try as I might, anywhere and everywhere
Only bees are still alright.
Close my eyes, shut off my senses, kill my mind
Automatize.
Feel the sorrow, cry the pain; sense the mud, experiment.
Draw the curtains, turn off the light,
So I can just feel alright.
Heavy eyelids, shivering limbs, warm tears; and trembling lips;
Dry hands and chipped, short nails; messy, curly, chestnut hair,
All of this and then some more are part of me, I’m feeling sore.

[photo: www.revolutionapparel.deviantart.com/]

On a rainy day, two people are walking hand-in-hand down an alley, all wet and cold. They are there, in the middle of this storm, but nothing can make them walk any faster, hurry them along or destroy their rhythm. If the sun was shining and the wind was blowing steadily on a beautiful spring day, they would have maintained this same pace, because no matter what, they are on a walk.

Five streets away, a little beggar girl is trying with all her might to hide a small stray cat in the folds of her ripped sweater. She is sitting at a corner of an isolated street, between cardboards and pieces of old clothes, where the water can’t get so easily, wanting to be as far away from the rain as possible. That corner is her home, or at least has been for the last 3 weeks. She is lonely and scared, but not for herself, because she knows that she can handle anything, but for the little life in her hands, that is shivering strongly, or maybe they are her shivers.

On another narrow street, not even 50 meters from the little girl, an old woman is on her hands and knees in the ever rising water. On the pavement, in front of her are bits and pieces of old papers and materials. She is trying to gather them all back in the wooden box in her hand. But everything is pointless; the water is soaking them fast, blurring the writhing and ruining the soft materials. The moment she picks up one of the black and white photos, the paper in her trembling wrinkled hand disintegrates, and the image is lost forever. The smiling faces, the happy memories are all fading now, with the water washing all over them. The tears in her eyes mingle with the raindrops, while she tries pointlessly to pick everything up.

Two alleys down the road, an old man is struggling to get away from the pouring rain. He can’t walk without his cane, which now, because of the wet pavement, is even harder to use. He is sick, so very sick, and pneumonia would be deadly for his weakening body. But he knows that no matter how fast he will try, his house is much too far away. He forgot to take his pills an hour ago, and now he is here, caught in the storm. He is continuously repeating in his mind that he has to take his medicine as soon as he gets home; but he will forget again, and because he is now soaked to the bones, his neighbor will have to call the doctor again tonight, one last time.

On a rainy day…

[photo: www/flickr.com/photos/greenka2000/1651247515/ ]

Autumn is back, it's raining and it's sad...
But even so, I can think of a million things that are enjoyable and nice, sweet and fun, relaxing altogether, even tough fall is here:
... coffee stains, chocolate fingerprints, warm milk, the smell of old books, dried flowers from last summer, old photographs in silver frames, the perfume of lit candles in the window, heavy drapes, warm blankets, classic old movies, comfy sweaters, layers of clothing, knitted socks, funny hats and big old scarfs, classical music, fluffy teddy bears, colorful leaves, the rain outside, the warmth inside, messy puddles, gray clouds, rainy days, the warmth of his hand in yours, papers, pens and pencils, inkpots and ink stains, the cat purring, the dog curling at your feet, cold hands and even colder lips, gloves that keep you warm, arms that keep you safe, scary pumpkins, family dinners, the first snow, the last leaf, bare trees, the fire in the stove, three course meals; and last but not least, good friends and even the best of friends to keep you company...
So no, I am not sad that autumn is here...

[photo: www.flickr.com/photos/_brilho-de-conta/360534666/]