the rules of attraction are never simple, unless the mind simplifies things and realises not only what is right but what is definitely wrong for the body.
I was an unattractive girl once, attracted to handsome men with cold hearts, attracted to the beauty of the day and the cruelty of the night. a pain and pleasure kind of swirl, the deep well of unconformity, the place of no belonging. the place of no love. the place of freedom, really.
then, I developed into an attractive woman, attracted to safe men with low expectations, attracted to admirers, to the long and certain path to boredom and affection. it was cosy, but it gave no pleasure. no pain, really. too ordinary, to be honest.
the rules of attraction shifted each time I wanted different. I never wanted more. it was the less ordinary that was exiting, fantasizing fantasies that were already fulfilled, done that, being there, and it was so good that I wanted different. a collector of twisted dreams.
I disobeyed the rules of attraction every single time, and was attracted always to the most inadequate, the less available, or the simply dull.
and it was fun!
a vast collection of failed relationships to prove I was never going to meet love or connection.
but recently my fantasies are following a strange unknown path....
it's not the hardcore or the unfitting any more, it's not the nice and easy, it's not the collection of experiences, it's not the thirst for failure and the longing for physical and emotional pain. it's different. it's not even a power struggle - a turn on, or a mind game - another turn on.
it feels like....dunno. I am not admiring or admired any more.
it's something that has to do with pure pleasure.
whatever that is.
Monday, 21 February 2011
Saturday, 5 February 2011
the infinite well
some thoughts on desperate love...
once born with a small, almost invisible hole in the heart, you are bound to see it enlarge during the living years.
unless you manage and figure out the nature and disposition of the small hole, one day you will wake up with a hole in the shape of a well, and the depth of forever.
the well feels shallow if untouched. if you don't notice it's presence, it only resembles a tiny gap in space.
but if somehow its presence is uncomfortable and annoying, you might choose to fill it up. it's in the heart, so it will require emotion. any kind of emotion will do. love, preferably, but greed will do just fine, for unless you are trained to distinguishing feelings, at first, they might appear the same.
but once the well is filled up, it never truly fills.once a little hole, now becomes a slightly larger hole that requires more love, for the one you just poured in, vanished at its bottomless end. more love, more affection, more sex, more affirmation. more clinging to the loved ones, more suffocation, more demands. you end up fearing you cannot even be left alone, without someone in the room. without someone in your life. the well is too demanding to be faced. so you reach out for more love, even more affection, more sex, more affirmation. but the well is still hungry, the black hole in your heart makes everything disappear, after devouring all possible feeling, it is still dissatisfied.
friends and lovers become distant, as the well makes new demands, and since love and affection can no longer be at hand, other feelings must be fed to it, for it cannot stop devouring, and when left unfed it screams and howls at night. you can't give it love any more, but you discover that it does devour resentment and spite just as well as previous emotion. you then try to feed it hatred and aversion, and it responds, but needs more, it can never be satisfied.
tired and sleepless, you try your last shot, and pour fear in the well. then everything turns to motion. fear fills the well, seems like it found its bottom finally, but once you reached fear as a self-fulfilling emotion, you cannot stop pouring it down the well, until it overflows and floods the entire existence.
once you had a little hole in the heart that simply was your connection to the universe, sort of a plug to ground universal energy. but you believed it to be a flaw in the system, and thought it should be filled up, for you despised flaws as well as systems.
once you were a flawed being... now, what have you really become...
once born with a small, almost invisible hole in the heart, you are bound to see it enlarge during the living years.
unless you manage and figure out the nature and disposition of the small hole, one day you will wake up with a hole in the shape of a well, and the depth of forever.
the well feels shallow if untouched. if you don't notice it's presence, it only resembles a tiny gap in space.
but if somehow its presence is uncomfortable and annoying, you might choose to fill it up. it's in the heart, so it will require emotion. any kind of emotion will do. love, preferably, but greed will do just fine, for unless you are trained to distinguishing feelings, at first, they might appear the same.
but once the well is filled up, it never truly fills.once a little hole, now becomes a slightly larger hole that requires more love, for the one you just poured in, vanished at its bottomless end. more love, more affection, more sex, more affirmation. more clinging to the loved ones, more suffocation, more demands. you end up fearing you cannot even be left alone, without someone in the room. without someone in your life. the well is too demanding to be faced. so you reach out for more love, even more affection, more sex, more affirmation. but the well is still hungry, the black hole in your heart makes everything disappear, after devouring all possible feeling, it is still dissatisfied.
tired and sleepless, you try your last shot, and pour fear in the well. then everything turns to motion. fear fills the well, seems like it found its bottom finally, but once you reached fear as a self-fulfilling emotion, you cannot stop pouring it down the well, until it overflows and floods the entire existence.
once you had a little hole in the heart that simply was your connection to the universe, sort of a plug to ground universal energy. but you believed it to be a flaw in the system, and thought it should be filled up, for you despised flaws as well as systems.
once you were a flawed being... now, what have you really become...
Monday, 31 January 2011
I know how Voldy felt
some thoughts on obsession....
when one decides to split their soul, to accommodate or hide a fear or a desire, this second fragment of the soul, that uncomfortable forbidden feeling, what can it possibly contain? and how powerful or needy can it become?
the second fragment hides into the great castle of fear, in limbo, silently waiting, starving because it's disconnected from the source, cut off from the self and the conscious, lurks in the dark. and waits. it waits for some blood to run into its cold vessel. it waits and longs for love.
when the split soul individual will fall in love, love will fill up the entire soul.
when love will cease, the first, conscious part will grieve, and move on. the second fragment though, can not let love get away. for once, it was so happy to contain such a strange, such an overwhelming sensation, it was too happily absorbed into the warm feeling of finally being connected to the source, that it cannot let go. it will not let go. it will resist losing what is already gone, it will survive in denial.
when the loved one becomes another face in the crowd for the conscious part, when oblivion wipes out the touch and the caress and the affection and the pain, the second fragment will transform into the image of the loved one. the split second part will live again with a new face, with a new name inside the soul, will recall and replay the life,dreams and aspirations of the generator of love. it will become the voice of the loved one inside the head, it will blossom and expand and slowly affect the conscious part and the entire self with the image of a living dream, of a life that is no longer alive, of a feeling of the incomplete, of eternal starvation, and repetition and deceit. the split soul will live a parallel life of the real individual and of a faded photograph.
and furthermore, when the photograph gets completely worn out, and the sweet face of the loved one appears terribly disfigured, the second fragment will wake up, all drained up and confused and starving. it will wake up into deceit, it will wonder what the f*ck has been really going on all these years...eventually it will turn into the conscious self, and depending on its disposition, it will either demand explanations, or devour the entire soul.
splitting the soul is creating an imaginary space within actual space. a fascinating space, really. but when that space is used to accommodate the trash of human condition, it can become highly dangerous, especially if it becomes the vacuum of a love that the conscious self does not have the guts to experience.
when one decides to split their soul, to accommodate or hide a fear or a desire, this second fragment of the soul, that uncomfortable forbidden feeling, what can it possibly contain? and how powerful or needy can it become?
the second fragment hides into the great castle of fear, in limbo, silently waiting, starving because it's disconnected from the source, cut off from the self and the conscious, lurks in the dark. and waits. it waits for some blood to run into its cold vessel. it waits and longs for love.
when the split soul individual will fall in love, love will fill up the entire soul.
when love will cease, the first, conscious part will grieve, and move on. the second fragment though, can not let love get away. for once, it was so happy to contain such a strange, such an overwhelming sensation, it was too happily absorbed into the warm feeling of finally being connected to the source, that it cannot let go. it will not let go. it will resist losing what is already gone, it will survive in denial.
when the loved one becomes another face in the crowd for the conscious part, when oblivion wipes out the touch and the caress and the affection and the pain, the second fragment will transform into the image of the loved one. the split second part will live again with a new face, with a new name inside the soul, will recall and replay the life,dreams and aspirations of the generator of love. it will become the voice of the loved one inside the head, it will blossom and expand and slowly affect the conscious part and the entire self with the image of a living dream, of a life that is no longer alive, of a feeling of the incomplete, of eternal starvation, and repetition and deceit. the split soul will live a parallel life of the real individual and of a faded photograph.
and furthermore, when the photograph gets completely worn out, and the sweet face of the loved one appears terribly disfigured, the second fragment will wake up, all drained up and confused and starving. it will wake up into deceit, it will wonder what the f*ck has been really going on all these years...eventually it will turn into the conscious self, and depending on its disposition, it will either demand explanations, or devour the entire soul.
splitting the soul is creating an imaginary space within actual space. a fascinating space, really. but when that space is used to accommodate the trash of human condition, it can become highly dangerous, especially if it becomes the vacuum of a love that the conscious self does not have the guts to experience.
Sunday, 30 January 2011
soundcheck
sunday night, decided to finally expose thoughts and fads.
let me see how this little thing works first....
ciao
let me see how this little thing works first....
ciao
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