Tuesday, September 28, 2010

people and stories and chances and nudges

everyone should have a shot at telling stories. everyone should be given a camera and be told: tell us a story. a real story. a story that haunts them before they go to bed, or even in their dreams, maybe even just one scene that they keep on seeing in their mind over and over again or something that is absolutely ineffable and can never be captured on camera and yet finds its way there in the most sublime form.

people's stories would be something worth sharing. they'd be about penguins, or sand, or wind, or misunderstood feelings, broken bicycles, binoculars, riding on trams, kissing boys, teddy bear guards, dinosaurs, powdered sugar, cigarettes, hair standing-up, fire breathing dragons, adventures, car racing, heroes, making love or all of those together. or neither. people's stories would have so much magic.

everyone should have a chance to tell a story and be given a nudge to go along with it. chances and nudges make beautiful music together.
you might think we all do, we all get a shot. but you know better.

Friday, September 24, 2010

a clockwork ding dang dong

i was in the middle of a dream when, suddenly, a voice inside my head said "it's time to wake up". i opened my eyes that very second afterwards and looked at the clock. who would interrupt my dreams like that i dont know, but this voice did it at exactly 8 am. exactly. not to mention that i had actually forgotten to set my alarm the night before.

weird. but thanks, i guess.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

na-ti-o franta, ca ti-am dres-o

scriu la nervi cum nu am mai scris de mult. dar sunt niste nervi intarziati. zilele trecute am primit o scrisoare de la comitetul de administratie din bloc care ne informa ca NU e voie sa fumam pe scari, nici macar la geam, inclusiv pe scara din spate, supranumita scara de incendiu. cum nu fumam in casa si geamul de pe scara din spate era deopotriva locul si momentul meu de liniste, vestea m-a intristat, dar nu atat cat m-a enervat. 

si de ce: insa asta, individa asta, al carei nume nu-l cunosc si a carei fata n-am vazut-o inca, ne-a scris o scrisoare!! adica a observat, a cantarit sau nu, apoi si-a asezat fundul plictisit la calculator si a redactat o scrisoare pe care trimis-o firmei de avocati care gestioneaza chestiile legale in bloc (!!) si care, la randul lor, au pus o secretara bine platita sa ne scrie ca nu e voie sa fumam pe scara, med venlig hilsen, a lipit plicul si l-a pus la posta pe adresa noastra. (!!!!)

fumatul ca fumatul. replica aia cu "nu imi place ca nimeni sa puna conditii dependentelor mele" mai are putin si expira. dar sa ne trimita scrisoare? cand putea sa vina la usa, sa urce un etaj si sa vina la usa, sa ciocane, sa zica cine e, sa zica nu mai fuma, bai fata, la noi pe scara din spate, de-aia si de-aia, si eu sa zic imi pare rau, regret, mi scuuuusi, hai sa gasim o cale de mijloc, si ea sa zica nu e, si eu sa insist, si poate sa gasim o cale de mijloc sau sa nu gasim nimic, nicio cale de mijloc, oricum, am vorbit, am fost umpic mai mult oameni azi. ce bine a fost. 

si creierul meu reptilian zice: daneza proasta!

iar in capul meu natang, cred ca sub creierul asta reptilian mai am un creier si mai retrograd, de sunca! fie, de slana, un creier de slana caruia ii place sa fie afumat pentru ca am coborat cinci etaje ca sa fumez singura tigara pe ziua de azi. 

ma rog. i need the exercise. whichever i go for.

(photo via francoise nielly whom i loooooove!)


i wish it was story telling time.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

a nose arose as cause

i was watching this movie today and i'm mostly mentioning this cause it opens up the stage for another thing or the thing really worth mentioning (that i had this whole little cinema all to myself and it was awesome).

now that that's out of the way, i can tell you about my discovery (which is connected to the movie because i got it while watching it): the perfect bodyguards should have immense, extraordinarily big noses so that when they speak in their little microphones hanging on their chests no one can lip-read what secrets they're saying, as their noses would be covering their mouths. ok, if they had a double degree and were also ventriloquists, then the nose would not be necessary.

BUT! this could revolutionize the industry of bodyguards globally and maybe even trigger an increase in sales of groucho marx masks (for those less nose-gifted aspiring bodyguards). and then all the bodyguards would be wearing these masks, kind of like a unifying thing, a little tribute to groucho and also to make themselves unrecognizable. it's genius! i'm glad i thought of it. i really am.

Friday, September 10, 2010

roses are red, violets are blue, you're not a conversationalist but i'll still pick you

i've just had a cross-gender revelation. i was looking at this guy and thinking what you are probably thinking, as well. or the opposite, if you are into that. (not that it's really easy to imagine him naked, that came with the next wave of surprise.)

and then it hit me! girls appear so very often to be like this guy: pretty, silly, cute, sexy little creatures. so, for a brief moment of spooky lucidity/hallucination, i had what i think was the perception that a guy, a regular old fashion joe, who might or might not have cocoa before he goes to bed, but likes at least football or sumo or hong kong phooey, is likely to have related to a pretty, silly, cute, sexy girl. therefore, ever so often.

in the words of happy bunny, it would be something along the lines of "it's cute how stupid you are." where stupid doesn't really matter at all, cause you're not talking, you're looking, it's just a word, it's not even a word, what is it?, and even if you were talking, you'd still be looking, and that never implies hearing.

so i drew two conclusions.

one, we're really all the same.
two, girls are really the majority in this "same" business.

Tuesday, September 07, 2010

leonardo dicaprio and a portuguese murder

might be the intense last few days, the new beginnings, the bad hair days, or the newfoundflu, but i had the damnest dream. it obviously had leonardo dicaprio in it, which i stopped dreaming about around two years after the sinking of the titanic on the big screen, which is almost 10 years ago. (!!!) it also had a portuguese murder. which was a debut in my dreamworld.

so i was in leo's house, doing something, business related, can't say what cause i don't remember, possibly delivering a newspaper cause i've been thinking a lot about that lately. and then i gathered guts and no wits and talked to him and he was really nice and then gave me an autograph. (if i were to interpret this i'd say i'm gonna get a job soon.)

the second dream, which i'm not sure was really the second, was happening in this dodgy neighborhood somewhere in portugal, where a man and woman were having a fight, and me and some people were just passing by, being somewhat touristy. and then it happened - the man ran after the woman and he stabbed her and she fell in a big hole. (and if i were to interpret this i'd be really sad for the rest of the day.)

story teller al rescante!

(that guy is not brian andreas. and he's not a pope, either. maybe evil kenevil's archenemy, called good barbiegood. but no, he's actually a ski sailor. seriously. in st moritz of '38. and he has nothing to do with anything here. except that he looks like he's at the rescue.)

"You're the strangest person I ever met, she said & I said you too & we decided we'd know each other a long time." 
(ok, this one is brian andreas)

Wednesday, September 01, 2010

today, in pictures

Handen vol met ijsjes / Holding to many ice creams

so i started school. and this picture is how i feel about it. pac pac.