Eulogy

Years ago, when this blog was updated almost daily, I've written its last post and kept it locked up in the draft folder - waiting for the day when it would see the light of day (if ever). Well, for all intents and purposes that day has come - this blog is officially over. It has been so for a while; I've just been rather unwilling to  come in to shut down the lights and lock the door. It has to be done, though, and the end of the year is as good a moment as any other. So below, in a manner of a long good-bye, the eulogy written so long ago, with minor edits:

Of all the mementos I've ever created, no one holds much as much power as this very blog. It was the silent board of my life for the last seven years. It was the epilogue of my previous life, and sometimes it even went further back, overlooking moments lost in time and space. It opened windows to the future, or to a possible future that sometimes became present, and sometimes became nothing. It witnessed my downfall. Several times. It watched me raise again. It scared others. It scared myself. Reading today what I've written over the last years would kill me faster than all the cigarrettes I've ever smoked. Writing it today kills me faster than a bullet would. Writing it tomorrow would cast me back into the shadows. But it also gave me life. It gave me life everytime I wrote black words over the white background. It renewed me whenever I saw my inner thoughts being shaped into my own words, into a quote of genious said by someone else, into a song I could never sing myself. I was destroyed and made anew by its mirrored words, by the way it spoke only to myself, no matter in whom I was thinking about. I wrote a while ago that I cannot cry, remembering that in the last ten years I was able to do it only three times - one for happiness, one for despair, one for pure, unbridled wrath. Never for sadness. I was wrong though. I can. Not liquid, salty tears, but drops shaped like words. This space is full of them.

Seven years of people coming into my life. Of people leaving it, some with a trace, others without it. Of change. Of smiles. Of deception. Of cruelty. Of anger. Of lies. Of truths. Of love. Of hate. Of illusions. Of mistakes. Of everything that made my own life during this time, in a way only I can understand completely (if even I can). These pages are perhaps the best autobiography I could ever write of those years. I shared it first with myself, and then with everyone else willing to read it. This blog would now be going into its eight year, and it's time for me to put an end to it. For those of you who came here over the last years, whether I knew you or not, whether you were a friend or a foe, whether you were a regular anonymous watcher or a random passer-by - thank you.

Spaceport

Some moments of our lives are so insignificant we wouldn’t ever think about them again. And yet sometimes they seem to hold a force of their own, an influence that we can’t help noticing. We see their pattern repeated over and over again. We notice it to the point of thinking about it when we find ourselves in a somewhat similar situation. And yet... far too often we can’t help falling for it again, only to see events unfolding before our eyes in the exact same fashion than before. Why did we expect it to be different in the first place? Was there any reason for it to be so? 

We should know better. The lesson was hammered home far too many times.

Lifeless

There was something missing in your eyes - some primeval light, some lifeforce telling that you were actually there. You weren't. Not anymore. Your eyes are now dull and lifeless, unable to gaze or stare, glancing through everything without focus or purpose. They seek nothing no more. They see everyone but recognize no one. They are empty - you are gone, and it's just as if you've left your body behind without shutting down, alive but lifeless.

Undertow

As far as music is concerned, 2012 will be remembered as the year when I finally saw Radiohead in what might as well have been one of the three best gigs I've ever been to in my life. But it will also be remembered as the year when I discovered Warpaint - and they are out-fucking-standing (and cute as hell, too). If there are magical musics, Undertow is definitely among them.

Smoke and mirrors

Semantic games serve no purpose other than deceiving ourselves. They are nothing but smoke and mirrors that fool no one, as everyone readily understands what's truly being said between the lines. In practical terms, there is no difference between lying and omitting the truth, and we know it - everyone knows it. Yet we keep pretending that there's a difference, forcing ourselves to believe in a premise that has no foundation whatsoever, a lie that in the end will provide little to no consolation. 

Mistakes

Our old mistakes always come back to haunt us. Even if we cannot clearly remember their original form - they are bound to be repeated, eventually, and there's little we can do about it.

Cast no shadow

It's not that I have forgotten those memories. It's simply that I no longer care to remember them. They have fled beyond hope or sorrow; let them be there, and stay there, where they cannot cast a shadow. 

Love will tear us apart

Lady Winter

May. By now Spring should be all over the place, and yet this year Lady Winter seems bent in taking the time that was denied to her during the proper cold months. And the rain pours, and the wind blows, and the cold creeps everywhere; and she laughs in contempt.

Music doesn't really get any better than this

(I know this blog has been rather neglected lately, but it will get back on track. Eventually)

Shortcomings

I just wish I could pull out money from out of nowhere the same way I can pull out patience out of nowhere. I'd be filthy rich then, and wouldn't need that much patience to deal with some people I could simply chose not to see.

Unfortunately, patience is (seemingly) a virtue and wealth is (seemingly) a sin. This state of affairs has to be the work of some messed-up god, definitely - otherwise, we can only assume that being all-wise and all-powerful has its shortcomings too.

Backstabbing

We always come up with excuses for those we care about, and we do it to the point of being blind. We cannot conceive that those who profess their love and loyalty for us could betray us, but the history of backstabbing was written by the closest friends, not by the fiercest foes. Caesar explains. 

Mortar

Some people do never learn. They keep calling for truth, the same truth that slaps then in the face whenever they find it. They can never handle it. Yet they demand it, as if they had any right to it. As if they were entitled to it. They don't understand that the mortar that helds social life together is lies, not truth. No one likes the wise guy - people crave delusions and white lies, to the point when they cannot live without them anymore. Truth? Let out the truth and see how long it takes for us to return to barbarism.

Lenses

We are never the same. I do not find this odd at all; as each person sees us through his or her own set of lenses, we are often colored by their own expectations - and, like it or not, most often than not we put up an act for their benefit. We can be quiet and thoughtful with someone while being rather outgoing with someone else, while never for one moment we stop being ourselves. Not that there's anything wrong with it; it's just that depending on the lenses, the question "who am I?" might bring and endless stream of different answers.

The wrecking ball

Nowadays, and in some circles, responsability is not about being accountable for something, whether it turns out to be a success or a failure. It is merely about dropping the ball as soon as possibly, and readily put the blame on the one who picks it up.

Coherency

Eventually we will all forget all that we used to say and do, so that we can finally say and do exactly what we criticized others for saying and doing. For all intents and purposes, coherency is not a human trait - it belongs to the Gods alone. We mortals sometimes aspire to it, but are so easily led astray - either by gravity or by our own nature (or by both combined).

The downward spiral

The problem is not that we have our own issues. They are there all right - we can't get rid of them by magically snapping our fingers or wishing them away. The problem begins when we start using our own unresolved issues as an excuse for each of our character flaws and personal failures. At that point, there's little to no incentive to fix things up - as long as we have issues, we have excuses - and the downward spiral inevitably looms ahead.

This is usually the moment when friendship is defined by a slap in the face and a "snap out of it" shout, but as far as I am concerned - and as sorry as I am - that's not my duty anymore.

Chains

There is no point in complaining that we are not free when we were the ones binding ourselves to the ground, in a delusional - or desperate - attempt to hold what we could never keep. We were the ones who forged the chains and bound them to the rock face - how exactly can we expect to be free after that?

Strangers

I wonder why the people who are supposed to know us better than anyone else sometimes act as if they don't know us at all.

Escape velocity

As my mind blanked out into oblivion it let out a word. A single word. It was meaningless; for all intents and purposes, it was nothing but a word. There was no thought sustaining it, no idea giving it shape, no meaning to define it. And yet it was uttered in the wrongest moment of all, and as soon as it was out it reached escape velocity and went beyond all possible control. That was a long time ago; and yet, as of today that single, unintended word still robs me of my spontaneity, still keeps my mind from blanking out into oblivion again, still prevents me from letting myself go. Since that word was uttered, there is a part of me that has never slept; always awake, always aware, it has kept watch restlessly, guarding my mind from itself.