∞

TRIP #4

2012-02-09T18:51:00.003+02:00

by jbark

So this is the trip I need help understanding. It floored me. It horrified me to my core - humbled, baffled, obliterated, and scattered me like nothing else has. It made me swear off spice and all other entheo/psychedelics forever...

Now, had I been alone, no big deal. I don’t frighten easily (another classic sign of stupidity), but with my son there I had a revelation: if it came down to it and a bear came charging out of the woods at us, I felt certain that I would run, drawing the beast away to sacrifice myself to save my son . I don’t take this lightly : it was the first time I realized, despite all the philoso-babble to the contrary, that you can indeed commit a truly selfless act. It freaked my selfish little self out. I was terrified (for the first of two times that day as I was to discover later…) - terrified both for my son and by the realization that if a bear did present itself, I would die a grizzly death (pardon the pun…).

First of all, much respect to those who can navigate these deep swampy waters; I for one have no vessel and no oar, and in the absence of a keel to direct the path, I am lost lost lost and fear I shall never be found for there is nowhere to be found and no one to find or do the finding and nothing but this maelstrom, this void that is as empty and vacuous as anything my imagination can behold…

Massive primary coloured letters of sorts – most indecipherable, but at least one a strange permutation of the capital letter E, hurtling toward me without really moving in the chaotic miasma that I am in/that is in me/that is me.

Thrust into the maelstrom and stripped so profoundly of the impression that « I am » and that I exist, that whatever is left of me is thoroughly convinced that all I believed I had experienced, up to now, reveals itself, like a dagger through the heart of the mind, as an elaborate illusion to which I shall never return. Worse than cessation, more painful than the thought of death is the realization that you NEVER WERE… (note : I have, in my clearer moments, accepted my death and have faced it numerous times with other materials, but this, as with my experiences with salvia, was of an order more disturbing, to say the least…)

In the midst of the mess was a chorus : « it’s Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, it’s Saturday » screeching across the vista of my mind, until, sitting up and opening my eyes in a futile attempt to dispel the hell, I realize, seeing the room utterly transformed, that it is me screaming the day of the week – but it’s not me as well. And it’s Sunday. And I am never coming back to know what a day of the week is, because there is NO BACK TO, NO FROM, AND NO TO (let alone the mundanity of a day of a week of some year in some life). (note : I had a similar salvia trip where my field of view was filled with orange monochromatic, puffy and expanding, thick, black-outlined cartoon school buses, and a similar chorus was singing, invitingly, menacingly and with ambivalence all at once in voices that were a dis/harmony of insectoid screeches layered over the clearest of sopranos : « it’s Wednesday, Wednesday, it’s Wednesday Wednesday Wednesday… » ; yes, accompanied with the same sensations described above – IT FELT LIKE THE SAME PLACE. Maybe my mind is not constructed for the use of these substances…)

A loop - endless inexorable recursion… I sit up and then fall back into a cartoon abyss of colours and Saturday Saturday Saturday… Endless eternal indomitable recursion, an irremediable feedback loop (note : curiously I have always maintained that video/audio feedback loops are the face/voice of god…) – consciousness itself ? Am I at the root of the Hofstadter loop? The MandelThought ? The firmware of my mind ? Is this a breakthrough, pure and horrifying ? Have I disabled the illusion, unbuilt the edifice of « consensual reality » to get down to the base, most reptilian and ancient form of simple consciousness – a terrifying self-referential eternal loop of non-being ? or un-being ? the horror…

The universe and our consciousness (common and universal or not) is neither good nor evil nor ambivalent, but rather profoundly indifferent, and as neutral as any void can be. I feel this more than I know it.

Once the most intense of these sensations passed, I am able to open my eyes. There is another dimension visible : height, length, width and the passage of time have newly revealed themselves, but in addition to these co-ordinates is another. I don’t need to tell you it was indescribable, but I will nevertheless do my best with these monkey paws and keystrokes. Like trailers from walls and stairs and in the very air itself, but at once so much more than a simple visual phenomenon, I feel I am glimpsing something new to me, but that has always been there. I feel not unlike a beast who understands up, down, to and fro and has a sudden epiphany that it exists also in a universe of passing moments, conceptualizing past, present and future in an instant through the sudden awakening of a new sense.

I realize I am no more than a raw ego-less nerve of consciousness, subjected to a nonsensical and arbitrary string of luminescent and aural detritus. (Note : I meant during the trip, but the cynic in me supposes this could be applied to everyday living…)

It felt about as spiritual as a kitchen knife excoriation. I can only conclude that the spiritual aspect of this substance lies in the interpretation of the experience - but that contradicts my very understanding of spirituality as something felt not thought. I don’t…

I enjoy challenges, but this seems insurmountable, an unassailable task of back and forth and down down down through a self-perpetuating, Sisyphean recursive loop, like a perpetual motion ride past the far reaches of sanity… Where is the value in this ? What wisdom is to be had that cannot otherwise be gleaned ?

Cresting and lulling waves messing with the fine mesh of mind…

Other Spice journeys stimulated, made me think ; this one ground the thinking apparatus to a precipitous halt. Beyond intellect and beyond description and above all beyond even intuitive comprehension. The ball that rolled didn’t only cease to roll, it first became a cube, then vaulted through and beyond the realm of multi-dimensional polyhedra and became an ineffable 8i5v n 843-tg8i’jiknp2… I can’t even attempt to understand. The only questions that remain are whether it is worth returning to hyperspace (assuming I was there…) and – is…it…dangerous… ?

I don’t want to discredit the advice often given on the nexus to remain calm and not to resist, but to me at this point it is analogous to hitting someone in the head with a bat and telling them not to feel the pain (note : I am sure some zen aficionados out there will have something to say on this subject). I suppose I did resist, but I have no clear idea through what mechanism, ‘cause I did not feel there was an active I to resist with. « I » was obliterated, so if there was resistance and an absence of calm, from whence… ?

If you can’t make sense of something because the word sense no longer applies or signifies, then is there a point, a meaning beyond simply an absence thereof ?

At what cost wisdom ? and is it wisdom if it proves unwise ? There are so many paths to wisdom, and none of them promised or guaranteed – therein lies their beauty and value. But in the balance of things, is the price and the risk involved in certain behaviours, along uncertain paths worth the distant possibility of wisdom ? Someone hit by a truck, paraplegic, learns lessons everyday that no one not confined to a wheelchair and incapable of voluntary movement can learn. There is wisdom here that can be learned nowhere else, but no one in their right mind would throw themselves in front of a truck to gain these insights. There are other paths and other wisdoms ; are we throwing ourselves in front of a truck called spice ? Or am I ? Or is it only me that feels this way ?

Thanks for reading ; sorry for the length. Tough write. Not really in my nature to expose myself like this, nor to ask for help. But I guess that’s spice right?

IS WHAT’S OUT THERE'S WHAT’S IN HERE?

The Heritage

2012-02-09T16:25:00.001+02:00

The Heritage by Martin Grech on Grooveshark

The father to his son,
Says you have to be weak to be strong
You have to be scared to be brave,
You have to know fear to be saved
The son to his father,
Says I'm too scared to be a man
I'm too dumb to be a fool,
Father help me understand
And he says
War war war,
War against your soul
Dig dig dig,
Dig your coffin's hole
Everyone must face their demons
And now the turn is yours
Father what's it all about,
Am I too in to get out
Am I too guilty to be free,
Are the whole world sinners or just me
Son you've got the whole thing wrong,
The road is neither short nor long
The answer's neither white nor black,
And it weighs heavy on your back
Go go go,
Go until you're old
Run run run,
Run to catch your soul
Every man must learn to love his demon,
Your demon's name is yours
War war war,
War against your soul
Dig dig dig,
Dig your coffin's hole
Everyone must face their demons
And now the turn is yours

- Martin Grech

Ясен Гюзелев...

2012-02-06T14:01:00.001+02:00

...за творческата интуиция и световете, в които физиката и философията се срещат: ЦЪК!

яж желязо

2012-02-05T23:17:00.000+02:00

Направи си шейк
От желязо и шоколад
На стружки
Не, по-добре желязо на прах
Изпиваш го и чакаш
Ръждата в кръвта
Докато ръждясаш
Внимавай да не го ядеш
Със свинско
Защото ще остане дълго
Във червата
И всичко това
Защото си вегетарианец

Mantra

2012-02-05T11:49:00.006+02:00

Mantra by Tool on Grooveshark

Тази мантра стана част от мен
Сърцето ми я диша
Душата ми я диша
Цялото ми тяло я диша
Всяка глътка въздух е мантра
Всяка глътка вода е мантра
Всяка лъжица захар е мантра
Всяка целувка е мантра
Всяка прегръдка е мантра
Всяка песен е мантра
Всяка раздяла е мантра
Всеки страх е мантра
Всяка болка е мантра
Всяко съмнение е мантра
Всяка заблуда е мантра
Всяка любов е мантра
Дишай
Издишай
Сърцето ми я сънува
Мрънка си я под носа
Сънувай спокойно, сърце
Дишай спокойно, сърце
Вече ти инжектираха мантра
И нищо не може да те докосне.

There's a little black spot on the sun today...

2012-02-05T10:56:00.004+02:00

King Of Pain by Sting on Grooveshark

Дара: Боли ли те?
Ния: Да.
Дара: Болката е въпрос на избор.
Ния: Значи искам да ме боли?
Дара: Обичаш ли болката?
Ния (смее се): Явно!
Дара: А обичаш ли картини?
Ния: Това какво общо има?
Дара: Обичаш ли картини?
Ния: Много.
Дара: Болката е картина. Опитай се да я задраскаш.
Ния: Това е глупаво.
Дара: Задраскай я.
Ния: Добре.
Дара: Какво виждаш?
Ния: Кръст.
Дара: Ето това е болката. В момента, в който се опиташ да я задраскаш, тя се появява. Цялата тази болка е илюзия. Много по-страшен е страхът от нея. Когато се опиташ да я видиш, тя се появява. Когато се опиташ да я оковеш, се озоваваш с куп железа в сърцето. А ако просто пробваш да пъхнеш пръст в нея, да я хванеш, тя се изпарява. Болката е празно платно, въздух, илюзия. Не я задрасквай. Не я обличай в думи. Не я прави истина.

сърце ала бекет

2012-02-05T09:56:00.001+02:00

умирам
трябва да стана
не мога да стана
ще стана

формална логика

2012-02-05T09:36:00.004+02:00

Страшен е не Животът, а съдържанието му.

на клубче и половин сандвич ;)

2012-02-04T19:38:00.000+02:00

Снежни брегове. По тях пълзи черна боя. Заливат ги черни вълни, които покълват в снега и се просмукват в земята. Черна земя, черни дървета, черни къщи, черни лица, които нямат израз, които ходят всеки ден на работа и светят само в моменти на надежда. Които обичат и стъпват на пръсти, за да не събудят другия, за да не му изкарат ангелите. Всички имаме ангели. Дори демоните са ангели, които ни водят у дома. У дома, където земята не е черна, където дърветата не са черни, където морето не е черно, където хората са цели, където хората са андрогини и се търкалят ведро по слънчевата земя.

парчетата ангели в парчетата хора

2012-02-04T19:37:00.001+02:00

Тялото ми се разгражда в струните на музиката. Тялото ми става на атомни частици, които вие всички вдишвате. Това е тялото ми, което вдишвате. Аз гледам как сте се впили в телата си, как сте се вкопчили в коси, кожи, бедра, носове, които вдишват тела, но не вдишват хора. Вие поемате музиката, която направи тялото ми на прах и после правите други тела на прах с музиката си. Облаци от човешки прах засенчват слънцето като скакалци, които отмъщават за човешката глупост - да си вкопчен в тялото си, в глада си, в жаждата си, в органите си, в себе си, в дъха си, в носа си. Във всички тези парченца, които стъпват тихо по земята, за да не събудят другите, за да не им изкарат ангелите. Парчетата ангели в парчетата хора.

m4

2012-02-03T10:05:00.000+02:00

Womb. Me and my own embryo.

Me: Who are you?
Embryo: I'm a dead bird.
Me: So you've got wings?
Embryo: Yeah, in my head.
Me: So you've got a head?
Embryo: I've got a head with wings.
Me: This is new age mumbo jumbo! This is bullshit.
Embryo: Bullshit is what bullshit does.
Me: What do you do?
Embryo: I laugh, I dance, I sing.
Me: So you're human?
Embryo: No, I'm a dead bird, I told you.
Me: So humans are dead birds?

m3

2012-02-01T09:09:00.001+02:00

Дръж се за себе си
Хвани оголеното си сърце в ръце
Ако не почувстваш нищо
Значи си се научил

m2

2012-02-01T09:00:00.006+02:00

Лъчи разкъсват гърдите ми
Хиляди души излитат
Греят с несветеща светлина
След тях идват гълъбите
Малки и сини - водни
Почти като птичката на Буковски
Заливат и давят душите
Които не знаят, че са риби
Всяка има камък на шията
Който я тегли стремглаво надолу
Докато не й пораснат
Перки, опашка, хриле
Най-после съм у дома

m1

2012-01-31T20:04:00.001+02:00

Лято е
Мирише на липи
У дома мирише на бездомни
Цвета отнасят надалече
Пият липов чай
Повръщат
Мухите се разтварят в билки
Не са за пиене
А за повръщане

fingertips

2012-01-31T12:30:00.003+02:00

Before I can open my all to eager eyes
Everything changes from the oceans to the skies
Perpetual motion sadder place by me
Everything's breathing my air in all of tree

Yet my fingertips
Have a special sound
Yet my fingertips
They go around and round

This comical wisdom
Creeps into my brain
Away of my nerve
And also free of pain

Electrical current
Hallowed be the name
Live my emotions
And vanish all my shame

Yet my fingertips
Have a special sound
Yet my fingertips
Smell of sodden ground

reminder nr. 2

2012-01-30T18:05:00.008+02:00

Space
Space
Space
Space
Awake Awake Awake Awake
Да се научиш да ходиш на ...
Да се научиш да ходиш
Да се научиш да не споделяш
Да се научиш да обичаш себе си
Да се научиш да обичаш
Да се научиш да не си гориш ръката
Да се влюбиш в себе си
This will destroy you
Nothing lasts but nothing is lost
It's all Self teaching Self
Обичам ви

малко бисери

2012-01-30T00:39:00.001+02:00

"Мисля, че тялотo е достатъчно умно, че да не ти позволява такива волности."

"То си е достатъчно трудно човек със собствените си страхове да се справи, камо ли с нечии чужди..."

:D

northern sky

2012-01-27T13:40:00.000+02:00

I never felt magic crazy as this
I never saw moons knew the meaning of the sea
I never held emotion in the palm of my hand
Or felt sweet breezes in the top of a tree
But now you're here
Brighten my northern sky

I've been a long time that I'm waiting
Been a long time that I'm blown
I've been a long time that I've wandered
Through the people I have known
Oh, if you would and you could
Straighten my new mind's eye

Would you love me for my money
Would you love me for my head
Would you love me through the winter
Would you love me ‘til I'm dead
Oh, if you would and you could
Come blow your horn on high

let go

2012-01-27T12:28:00.002+02:00

остави се да създаваш смисли
не се съпротивлявай на съпротивата
в природата няма напрежение
тревата не се мъчи да расте
планетите не се мъчат да се въртят
водата не се мъчи да тече
защо тогава
защо не се оставиш
да бъдеш човек?

(посветено на пешо и хайваната)

the motherfucking truth

2012-01-26T16:48:00.000+02:00

Till a system was formed, which some took advantage of & enslav'd the vulgar by attempting to realize or abstract the mental deities from their objects: thus began Priesthood;
Choosing forms of worship from poetic tales.
And at length they pronounc'd that the Gods had order'd such things.
Thus men forgot that All deities reside in the human breast.

Разходка със завит свят на Хайдегер за забравено зарядно

2012-01-26T13:17:00.003+02:00

Някъде в алтернативна вселена се разхождаме в снега и слушаме унищожителна музика по цял ден всеки ден. Някъде снегът не спира никога и не се трупа върху ни, защото има други физически свойства.
Някъде в алтернативна вселена те срещам на улицата и те целувам.
Някъде държиш косата ми, докато повръщам.
Някъде цигарите правят света прекрасен, но не и ужасен.
Някъде снежинките нямат нужда от изтупване.
Някъде в алтернативна вселена трамваят вече е дошъл или никога няма да дойде.
Някъде всичко това вече се е случило.
А някъде не е.
Някъде ти си прекрасен. А дали наистина си прекрасен? Това никой не знае.
Някъде вратите към невъзможното са бранденбургски и това е добре.
Някъде хората в трамвая са безинтересни.
Някъде светът не става черно-бял, когато музиката спре, защото е впита в умовете ни. Някъде слушалките още не са изобретени. Там музиката унищожава всеки миг. И не боли.
Някъде в алтернативна вселена в трамвая се освобождава място и аз потъвам в Хайдегер.
Да, това някъде е сега.
Някъде всеки миг е "ето-на". Някъде месецът е "ето-на" и зимата е "ето-на", и снегът е "ето-на". Някъде истината е нищо. Това някъде е тук, ето на!
Някъде капките по стъклото са човешки пътища, замръзнали в писателския ум.
Някъде опиянението, което вижда техните пътеки като човешки животи е постоянно.
Някъде спомените от тези животи са "ето-на" и не болят.
Някъде в алтернативна вселена се качвам у дома и отпивам глътка вино, за да спре да ми се повръща.
Някъде не мисля за теб на този балкон.
Някъде всичко вече е станало, става и ще стане. И това унищожава.
И е толкова прекрасно, толкова... освобождаващо.
Някъде в алтернативна вселена зарядното го няма, лаптопа го няма и не живеем в тези черни кутийки.
Някъде, ето на, въображението ражда станали светове.
Някъде нищо не може да те отклони от центъра на равновесието вътре в теб.
If wants and needs divide me then I might as well be gone.
Някъде ме няма.
Някъде не съм машина за създаване на смисли.
Мога ли да си го представя?
Не, дори представянето е лъжа. Дори представянето е лепване на смисъл.
Някъде разумът е строшен на парчета.
Някъде до мен някой стене сладко и ме връща в тялото ми.
Свят момент, идея си нямах колко е свят.
Свят и наблъскан със смисъл, чак до гадене.
Моментът, в който се влюбваш в светия свят.
Някъде това малко момиче не мръзне по пуловер в най-големия сняг.
Някъде в ръцете й няма бебе, увито в хавлия, да фък, хавлия!
Някъде в алтернативна вселена аз се качвам горе и й нося едно от десетте си палта.
Някъде бъркам в джоба си и й давам шепата със стотинки.
Някъде баща й просто й купува едно шибано яке втора употреба за 2 лева!
Някъде аз осъзнавам колко маловажни са псевдофилософските ми терзания.
Някъде тези мисли не ме опияняват, а ме отвръщават.
А някъде истинната свобода е просто "оставяне на съществуващото да бъде".

Andacht - Charles Baudelaire

2012-01-26T02:48:00.000+02:00

Sei weise, Sorge, lass dich nicht erregen
du wolltest Abend, er bricht an, ist da.
Wenn dunkle Schleier sich auf Dächer legen
ist einem Frieden, andren Sorge nah.
Wenn sich die viehisch grobe Menschenmenge
vom Henkersknecht Genuss gepeitscht zum Fest
hin drängt, nur Reue erntet, Narrenzwänge,
gib, Kummer mir die Hand, geh mit nach West
weit weg von hier. Sieh, wie die toten Jahre
im alten Kleid am Himmelssöller hängen,
Bedauern lächelnd aus der See aufsteigt.
Die Sonne stirbt, liegt unter Bogengängen
und hör nur wie als Tuch der Totenbahre
von Ost nach West die tiefe Nacht sich neigt.

напомняне

2012-01-25T11:36:00.000+02:00

(...и пак, на м.)

черупка от морско охлювче
тя ще е моят шамар
обратно в сега
сега сега сега сега
всяка крачка е сега
всяка глътка въздух
всеки удар на барабаните
всяка снежинка
сега сега сега сега
всяко куче
всяко дете на улицата
всяко сърце на улицата
всяка руса мадама
сега сега сега сега
всяка стъпка в снега
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всяка усмивка по телефона
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всяка снежинка
всяко вдишване
всяка дръпка
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всичко е клише,
но важното е, че го чувстваме, нали?

Amplifier - Insider

2012-01-24T13:23:00.002+02:00

The certainty that I am me,
That there is everything that I can see;
That what I percieve is all it appears,
And the belief that I am even here.

It's all in my mind.
Well it's all in my mind.

Into an ocean I am cast, between the past,
And all things that will come to be.
If every choice I make is my own, inside the unknown,
Then how can there be destiny?

Well...
It's all in my mind.
Well it's all in my mind.
And it's all inside.
This is all in my mind.

In every moment I dismiss,
And every metamorphosis.
That from a bud the flowers bloom,
A butterfly from each cocoon.

It's all inside.
Well it's all in your mind.
Then it's all inside.
This is all in your mind.

ревю на tenhi... може би

2012-01-23T15:20:00.004+02:00

Tenhi - Saivo

Лежиш в прегръдката на майка си. Тихо - като в стая от памук. От небето свети сняг и мирише сладко. В далечината отеква пиано - чисто като дете в утробата. Цигулките топлят като ръка, която гали корема. Звънът на китарата осветява пианото. Гласове приспиват човек на смъртния му одър. Пианото все още е далеч - зад мъглата на съня. Меланхолия пристъпва тихо, обидно тихо... Разцъфва във акорди. И през облаци печал се процежда кратко щастие. Валсът на тъжната надежда. Валс с призрак. Да, тук мъртвите могат да танцуват или поне си вярват, че могат. Виолончелото тъче бял пашкул и увива света. Песен по-късно той се ражда и полита като пеперуда в църковни прашинки и лъчите на мъжки хор. Всичко е тленно, дори гласът на оплаквачите, пеещи смирено след ковчега.

9 isa

apc - коста

2012-01-23T01:10:00.002+02:00

Mother, mother
There's too many of you crying
Brother, brother
Far too many of you dying
You know we've got to find a way
To bring some lovin' here today

Father, father
We don't need to escalate
War is not the answer
Only love can conquer hate
You know we've got to find a way
To bring some lovin' here today

Picket lines and picket signs
Don't punish me with brutality
Talk to me, so you can see
What's going on

Father, father
everybody thinks we're wrong
But who are they to judge us
Simply 'cause our hair is long
You know we've got to find a way
To bring understanding here today

Picket lines and picket signs
Don't punish me with brutality
Talk to me
So you can see
What's going on

птиците в сегед

2012-01-22T13:57:00.002+02:00

2212 г. Аз и Зу още работим във вестник, но статиите вече са хиперреални симулации. Пускам си новата статия на Зу за птиците в Сегед през 2102 г. (В Сегед отдавна няма птици, затова статията е толкова интересна.) Та. Пускам си я и се озовавам в града под забраденото с птици небе - в дъжд от курешки. Това ми се струва толкова невероятно, че хуквам към Зу да й кажа колко й е добра статията и я намирам спяща в детска количка на улицата. Будя я, при което статията се разпада. След малко я пускам пак и хиляди оловни гълъби се вливат в мен, сякаш правя секс със Светия дух.
Абе, не е добра тая статия. Птиците в Сегед през 2102 със сигурност не са били такива.

Interview with Duncan Patterson (Alternative 4, Íon, Antimatter, Anathema)

2012-01-21T22:45:00.006+02:00

(c) Pro-Rock Bulgaria

Congratulations on your new album with Alternative 4. Of course, the first question is - why did you pick that name?

DP: Basically I had to find a name for this new band, and Alternative 4 just stood out. At first I was thinking 'oh god I know what this is going to attract' but I also realised that, as well as being a great band name, I could use this opportunity to clear up over a decade of rumours and being asked the same thing time and time again. The more I think of it the more I appreciate the title, its mysterious without being clichéd plus it suits the music, and you have to remember that not everyone on the planet is obsessed with Anathema.

You say that piecing together an album with electric instruments takes a lot of energy you haven't had in more than 10 years. Why is that?

DP: I just didn't feel like it. I was exploring different things and keeping myself interested in my own creations. With the Antimatter thing I really wanted to take that into a really experimental electronic space. That was the original idea when I came up with the whole concept. Then gradually, as Mick got more involved, I realized that he wasn't into going so far in that direction. But at the same time he is a killer songwriter, so I compromised. Then Mick ended up going back to a similar place where I had already spent years, musically. So I started the Íon thing, which was like a musical detox and really cleaned my system out. So I guess that how I ended up getting that energy back. A change is as good as a rest.

The album is very dark and yet strangely peaceful. How did this happen? Does it reflect a certain humility you've found?

DP: This is something that I don't know how to put into words. When I am working on an album, and I find that certain vibe, thats when all the creativity flows out. And with this album it was, as you said, dark and peaceful and I pieced it together like that. The general concept is not a depressive one, but it is dealing with some sinister things that I would like people to think about. And all of this is coming from a peaceful perspective because thats how I am. I'm not an angry young man anymore.

The album get's even darker when you read its lyrical concept. Sheeple blindly following music, media, even religion - lost in an second hand online world. Is reality really so bleak in your eyes, or is this an art grotesque that's supposed to nudge people?

DP: I've just witnessed things gradually getting dumbed-down over the years and a lot of magical things have been devalued, almost intentionally ignored. I came from a music scene where people who were doing something original stood out and were respected. Its almost like people don't want that anymore. I remember people getting into alternative sub-cultures because they didn't want to be told what to wear or listen to. Now the metal scene for example is the perfect example of being told what to listen to. All the media is monopolised by the big labels and theres no room for anything truely independent and innovative. Same goes for the fashion, even in supposedly 'alternative' scenes its all uniformed these days. To be a celebrity on TV these days requires what? A lot of 'famous' people are put on pedestals by people who dont really know why. Its simply because they're on TV and in the gossip magazines. Its like business over talent, style over substance in all areas. Back to the music, the MP3 generation don't know that magical feeling of buying an album on the day it is released. That magic now, to a lot of people, is being the first person to 'leak' the album on the internet. If I can encourage at least a few people to think then I've done something more than just complaining about it in the pub.

"What a difference a name makes", you said about Alternative 4. People were calling you for gigs before even knowing what the music was like. People want information but the most superficial kind, they don't have the time or energy to delve deeper. Just like sheep, don't you think?

DP: Yes thats what happened. It was amazing and perfectly ironic, due to the album concept and everything. For years I was trying to set up small tours for Íon and the closest I got was "Hmm, why dont we do some kind of acoustic Anathema tribute instead" from the promoters. The name Anathema seemed to blind them. Whereas, if I didn't have that link I'm sure it would have been easy enough to book a string of gigs. That association has been a huge obstacle. People have this perception, even some of my close friends that I have worked with, that I have it easy because of the Anathema link and that I don't need any help with my career. But the opposite is true, I need a lot of help to get past this established 'brand name' now which has been the bane of my career for the past decade or more. Hopefully I can do that with this project, because it is facing the subject head-on. And as for superficial information, you only have to look at Facebook for that. We set up the Alternative 4 band page on Facebook and there were tons of people coming on without reading any of the information, thinking it was an Anathema page. Me and Mark were posting to them "please read the info section" to no response. If I merely mention the word Anathema on my music page I'll get 100 'likes' but if I post important news about the new album it doesn't get anywhere near that. At the same time though there are a lot of people that email me and are sincere about music, and respect and understand what I'm trying to do. I guess a lot of people who are attracted to my work are quiet, complative characters. It'd be nice to see a lot more people like that.

"Businessmen and general parasitic people who are like flies around shit at the smell of ‘success’, where peoples general wellbeing is taken out of the equation."
Actually, this is the reason for the Occupy Wallstreet protests. The problem, however, with these protests is that people have no clear demands, nor leadership, and it looks like an emotional but chaotic movement. What can we really do in your opinion?

DP: Theres a buzz about all the 'Occupy this and that' stuff and its cool that its being brought to light. Though there will be a lot of people who are just following (this is a common theme right?). But awareness is being raised about a lot of those subjects and its good to see people rising up and asking questions. I think we just need more of that, more thought and responsibility in general, more questioning and taking control of our lives. And that goes for what we eat, how we deal with doctors and our health, how we choose to earn money, who we vote for, do we actually rest? Many many important things that people don't give a second thought. For years now I have had a big interest in healing. From energy healing to nutritional healing, meditation, juice fasting and things. And I receive criticism for this from friends and even my own family for 'taking all that weird stuff' which is actually vitamins and essential minerals. And every 6 months or so I do a full detox cleanse where I don't eat animal products or drink alcohol. I always find during that time my friends and family trying to make me eat junk food or go out drinking. Every time, its bizarre and I don't know if its a subconscious thing or what. The majority of people are programmed though and maybe theres a fear of change with those people.

"With the owners anxious to get home to upload it onto the internet..."You say that we are on the brink of change but I don't quite believe it. Yes, it's always darkest before the dawn but people are getting more and more addicted to the internet - it's turning into a sickness, and very few are noticing. It's like a virus you cannot escape because you can't function without it. Scientists are actually developing chips that get implanted in your head so you can browse the net with your mind. On the brink of change? Really?

DP: I hope that we are on the brink of a positive change. On one hand I have seen a big shift in spiritual awareness in the last few years yet on the other hand I see people everywhere with Facebook on their phones, ignoring each other is bars and that. There are many positive things about the internet, but you're right about the addiction thing. I spend a lot of time online when I'm not touring or travelling. I do a lot of my work and networking online but I also enjoy just relaxing and keeping in touch with friends from around the world. I need to get out and do things though, I have itchy feet by nature. I remember when I did the Camino de Santiago Compostela a few years ago, and I raised a load of money for charity online. Many people were saying to me "I wish I could do that too" and I was encouraging them just to get up and do it. Obviously some people have families and can't take time off work but a lot would just be sat at home online. After 2 weeks of walking in nature it becomes obvious what we need and what a lot of us are missing. It would be the perfect 'cold turkey' for internet addiction.

I know you're not a fan of major record labels because it is like "somebody else is drawing your way or image in music for you instead of being "free" in creativity which is the way a musician or an artists should do". This idea fits perfectly to the Brink's concepts. Limits in thinking and creativity, selling your music and soul for money and fame... Am I right?

DP: Yes thats correct. I remember when I first founded Antimatter and we had a 3 track demo tape (a cassette!!) one of the major labels were interested. I'd already told Mick that I had no interest in signing to a major label whatsoever, and this was before they suggested that we make one of the girls 'the face of the band' and build everything around her image. There were no girls in the band, it was always just me and Mick, so you can see where I'm coming from with that. Yes, its possible that we could have reap financial rewards from it, but also highly possible that they could have decided not to invest in us after all, after being under contract for years and screwed up our careers. If it was just money and attention that we were looking for we would have tried to make fashionable music for starters. Mick is naturally more 'mainstream' than me because of his musical taste, but even with that he treasures his songs immensely. I'm often criticized for my songs being too long and monotonous, but thats what I do, thats my style. I don't do that by accident whilst trying to write 3 minute catchy pop songs and getting it wrong. And its often metalheads who complain about this, whilst my friends who have not boxed themselves into any particular scene would comment something like 'this sounds like music from a weird film'. Limitations can also apply to people who think they're open-minded. If I was to release a cliché-ridden gothic metal album that lyrically meant fuck all I'm sure it would be appreciated more by those people.

Do you still think that labels will become obsolete with the expansion of internet?

DP: I think there will always be people who want an actual product. I know some labels are dealing more with merchandise these days and they are very busy with it, so people are still buying stuff. Vinyl editions seem to be getting more popular now, maybe a novelty for the younger people who missed out the first time around. Whatever happens I will never go 100% digital, even if it means I have to write a book with each album.

What inspired "The Dumbing Down"? And is it correlating with Anathema's Destiny? There is Polish in the track - what is the woman saying, why did you pick Polish? Are the women grieving over Destiny's death?

DP: The Dumbing Down is split into three sections. i. The Travesty Waltz. ii. Steakknife's Theme. and iii. Silent Approval. Part 1 is just a play on words about 'destiny is dead' making no sense. Its a tongue-in-cheek retort to something aimed at me long ago. The Polish factor in part 2 is based on something that I witnessed in Poland a few years ago. Two obsessive fangirls chasing after a musician friend of mine, and they ended up turning on me for giving them sensible advice (to basically leave him alone and have some self-respect). I used a similar theme to Destiny because of the last lyric on part 1. Again theres a dark humour about it. Part 3 is the morse code piece 'Committed to ignorance, you let the lying dogs sleep', which is a play on words.

There is Morse code in the track. Could you tell me what it says?

DP: Committed to ignorance, you let the lying dogs sleep.

Please explain the two song titles - Automata and Autonoma.

DP: I used Automata in the mechanical sense, people following without thinking. And Autonoma is the passage into becoming autonomous, independent and de-programmed, so to speak. Thats why it's a long monotonous piece of music with a pleasant climax. It requires a bit of thought to understand and feel it, which I know will go over a lot of peoples heads. But I'm not going to dumb-down my creations to cater for ignorance.

Did you travel to Australia to record the guitars and vocals with Mark Kelson?

DP: Yes I flew to Melbourne for the vocals and guitars. I had to anyway, as I played a lot of the guitar on the album. But I couldn't have recorded any other way than to be in the studio with Mark and go through all the parts. We worked really well together, Mark is a great sound engineer as well as a singer/guitarist. I'm proud of the way he approached this album because he is a writer himself and I know it won't have been easy to sing someone elses words in someone elses style when he is used to his own natural way. He did great and he knows what the album is all about. He has been making music for a long time and has witnessed similar things that I have.

What feedback have you gotten from the people you've given The Brink? Have Vincent and Danny heard it?

DP: Most of the reviews have been positive and a lot of people from the old times have written to me and told me they felt nostalgic after listening to it. I like that. The only negative ones have been the journalists writing that I'm "taking ideas from Anathema". Which, again, is perfect irony because they were all my ideas in the first place. In fact the musical shift from death metal to the Alternative 4 album was more or less down to me. I don't think Vinny or Danny have heard it yet but Vinny has been helping me to promote the tour online and stuff. I'll pass them copies whenever I see them next.

What's your dearest memory of the time with Anathema, and the most terrible one?

DP: I think it has to be the first European tour that we did in 1994. We were headlining with At The Gates and Cradle Of Filth supporting. It was wild, like a bus full of juvenile delinquents with a free bar every night. We were all young and (mostly) irresponsible. The most terrible one was the disrespect that I felt at the time that I was quitting the band. I had just written the majority of the 2 albums that made people stand up and take notice of the band, yet there was only really Danny who appreciated that. Well he had no problem giving me the credit for it. We were surrounded by some horrible parasitic people at that time and I just felt so hard done by.

And with Antimatter?

DP: With Antimatter it was the Lights Out album and the tour that followed it. The gig in Istanbul was magic and people were singing along to all of the songs, even from Lights Out that hadn't been released there. That was a great night, and a huge contrast to Greece where they were just shouting out requests for Anathema songs. The low point, again, was when I quit the project. Mick wasn't happy with the way things were going, and I was doing all of the work so I didn't feel that my efforts were valued. Its difficult when stuff like that happens between good friends. It was sad to walk away from a project that I built up, but in the long run it was great for me to get away from it all and 'cleanse' like I mentioned before. That ended up becoming the point in my life where I made a huge spiritual shift and shed away an awful lot of negativity, both internal and external.

What are your favorite Antimatter songs?

DP: Of my own compositions its Flowers & Reality Clash. From Mick its Psalms & The Art Of A Soft Landing.

What's going on with ÍON? Do you plan any new releases?

DP: I will work on the third album when the time is right. Its a concept about 'the travellers rest', generally touching on the need to refresh and recharge. Expect a lot of drawn-out ambient passages. I'm looking forward to getting into this when I'm ready.

What do you remember from your last visit to Bulgaria? There are legends being spread that you forgot your jacket with all your credit cards, then a guy sent it to you...

DP: Ah Ivo! Good man, he invited us back to his house to drink gallons of red wine and I mistakenly put his jacket on when I was leaving. It wasn't till I woke up on a train to Serbia that I realised I had left my jacket, phone, and credit cards at his place. He kindly send it back to me though, and I returned his. Bulgaria can get wild can't it? And, for all of my talents, saying 'no' to a party isnt one of them.

You have so many great projects, and yet people still introduce you as "that guy from Anathema". Does this annoy you?

DP: Yeah, as I said before it has been the bane of my career. I could write 'Revolver' now and people would still do the same. I have considered releasing music under a pseudonym and I may well do it in the future. At least for the 'social experiment' aspect.

Why did you leave Anathema?

DP: It was something that was on the cards for years. I was carrying the band, both musically and in every other sense. The guys got very lazy after Darren went and I was left to deal with everything. Danny went through a difficult period in his life around the time of Eternity and I stood up and took the musical reigns while he wasn't so creative. Thats how I ended up writing lyrics on his tracks, as he didn't have the energy or motivation at that time. I was always living in the hope that the guys would start to take more responsibility, but it never happened. Then around the time of Alternative 4 we were having big problems between us. A lot of it was a lack of communication, which we were all guilty of. And there were problems between all three of us, not just me versus Danny, which seems to be the accepted version of the tale. As I said earlier, we were surrounded by real parasitic people who were giving each of us their own 'advice' to basically play us off against each other and take advantage of whoever ended up leaving or being fired. We were very close to splitting up and then a family tragedy struck for the brothers. It was then that I put it all into perspective and told Danny and Vinny to sort out their differences and continue the band, and I decided to pursue another project. That was a pure gesture from me out of goodwill and decency. I'm glad I came away with my head held high. But after that I was shit on from a great height. I was stopped from making music, silenced in the press, and lied about and defamed in big magazines. I had my royalties stopped (illegally) and I was in a dark place for a while. I didn't deserve that at all. Then a couple of years later I bumped into Danny in a club and he helped fix a lot of the problems. He made sure that I got paid again and apologised for the band making me the scapegoat for their own chaos and guilt. I also bumped into someone who was close to Vinny at the time who told me "WE didn't mean to hurt you, WE had to do what was best for the bands image after you left". She used the word "WE" which confirmed that she was involved in influencing a lot of that shit. And I wont even mention the name of the guy who unsuccessfully replaced me. He was the ringleader and his departure coincided with me being friends with the guys again. Well, that was no coincidence. Anyway, neither of these people had anything to do with our music or the band. But they managed to force their way in. There were many of those kinds of people around us like vultures. We were young though, and still learning about all this. And the important thing is that we sorted it out long ago and we get along better than ever.

Do you ever regret it?

DP: Not at all, but if I was ever in that position again I would never allow people to defame me like that. There would be legal action for sure.

If you had stayed, do you think Anathema would've changed their sound so drastically?

DP: Well one of the things we were discussing was the use of instrumentation. I wanted to write more piano-based stuff and bring in a female vocalist, use more ambient sounds etc. While they wanted to be more guitar based and heavy, as they famously said during the Judgement interviews. Its funny the way things turn out.

A lot of people say that Anathema has become Danny's solo project, and its only subject is his spiritual path. People want him to give more space to the other members so that subjects can be more diverse. You say Danny is a great composer but actually John and Vincent are brilliant too. Don't you think they should compose more?

DP: I think thats unfair for people to say that about Danny, because without him they would have struggled to write even one album since I quit the band. John and Vinny have their moments but Danny is by far the creative force in that band. It took seven years for their last album to be released, it would surely have taken longer if Danny had have sat back and waited for the others to write anything. At the same time though, I was in the studio with them at their last session and Vinny worked for three days solid on the synth sounds and production side of things. So his work ethic is a million times what it used to be, though composing is a different matter. Its not something that can be forced and not everyone has the ability.

Do you like the positive energy in Anathema's music today? Isn't it too poppy?

DP: I really like their last album. There have been some great tracks on previous albums, but none of them were complete 'albums' to me. WHBWH is a solid album from start to finish. Its not something I would create, or a style that I would be into playing, but it is purely them. It sounds like them and they haven't be afraid of the critics while creating it. That really shines through on the album too, along with all the positive lyrics. Fear should never play a part in creating art.

Danny stopped drinking and smoking 6 years ago - have you ever thought of following his example? Or do you think suffering is what makes good music?

DP: I don't smoke and I take care of what I eat. I also sorted out my unhealthy habits a while ago. Drinking is not a problem for me, it doesn't put me in a dark place nor do I have an addictive personality. I can take it or leave it. But some people can't and I respect Danny for taking responsibility and steering clear of alcohol, especially when you consider that he is surrounded by it a lot of the time. I think when suffering shows through in music its us, the listeners, who relate to it and have that feeling that we're not alone in difficult times. For example I love The Boatmans Call by Nick Cave, which was written during a break-up. I can relate to that and thats why it is special for me. Theres also plenty of good music that doesn't really mean anything, but I cant imagine getting close to something like that, other than for nostalgic reasons if it reminds you of a certain time/place/person.

Everyone knows that Anathema wouldn't be what it is without you. What do you think makes the old Anathema albums so special that people still keep missing them, and want this time back?

DP: I don't think many people know what I did for the band, at least the new wave of 'fanatics' as a lot of it was hushed up at the time of my departure. I was also written out of the band biography by their record label a long time ago. But its true that a lot of people miss the old albums. I think that we did something special back then with the use of melodies and dynamics and so. Also the lyrics were very honest and direct so people related to it. A change of instrumentation is difficult for some people to perceive, and also the whole 'metal' thing. I have had quite a few people telling me things like "I wish you were still in the band, so they would be heavy again and not trying to sound like Pink Floyd", and I feel funny trying to explain to them that it was my fault. I wanted to sound like Pink Floyd , I introduced the guys to Pink Floyd, and I didn't write a metal track since A Dying Wish (which is also very Floydian).

You say that when you were in Anathema some of the demos turned better than the final versions. Which ones?

DP: The stuff that we demo'd for the Eternity album really. They weren't sonically better but had a much better feel to them. We didn't record that album very well and allowed too much instrumentation to go on. Me and Danny should have taken more control over things but he was having a hard time at that point, and I'd never been in that position before as the principal songwriter. So I didn't know how to keep things in order without coming across as a musical dictator or something. Though by the time Alternative 4 came around I had little room to compromise and I kept everything tight and minimal.

I've always been intrigued by the cover of Alternative 4 by Anathema. What is this creature? An astronaut? An angel? What is reflected in the space suit?

DP: It is actually a religious statue that was scanned into a computer. Then used a space helmet visor from one of the moon landing shots. I went to Tim Spears house, the guy who did the artwork, and it took us about an hour to do. I had a few different ideas for the cover but this was the one. As most of the album is about trust, I wanted to use a sinister, thought-provoking image. I was reading a book called Alternative 3 which is about colonising the moon and also touches on the moon landing pics being fake and that. I combined that with religious imagery and came up with that cover. I remember that Music For Nations didn't like the cover, and originally removed the wings and tried to change the 'alternative 4' font, because they thought it didn't fit. I was stubborn though and made sure that they fixed it. They also changed some of the lyrics and punctuation which I had originally typed into their computer in their office. Crazy stuff!

"I remember a night from my past when I was stabbed in the back" - is there a real story behind those lyrics?

DP: Theres a real story behind all of my lyrics. Most of that album is about trust and betrayal, and this was one of those moments.

The end of the song Alternative 4 always makes me laugh - why did you choose this weird accent? And how did German fans react when they first heard it - the holocaust is a very painful subject to them.

DP: We were laughing too, it was intentionally humorous for us and Vinny is a great impersonator. We wanted to make it sound like 1930s style or something. As for the use of the word holocaust, it has nothing to do with Germany or the 2nd World War. I was actually referring to Armageddon. I really don't see how people could connect that song to the nazi atrocities. It wouldn't make sense at all.

Do you have any idea why Les Smith left Anathema?

DP: I do actually, but its not my place to say. Les worked a lot for the band, though more in a managerial role than a musical one. He should be respected for that, as a lot of things just wouldn't have happened if he hadn't been there to sort them out.

Both you and Danny want to do soundtracks. What is so special about cinematic music? Which movie would you make a soundtrack for?

DP: I'm not actually a big fan of movies but I love the audio/visual thing. I'd love to do the soundtrack for my own movie. I actually have an interesting plot for a film that I don't think would work as well in book format. And I have been asking some film students that I know, for years, about working on something together. It will come when the time is right. Its a great concept and a very positive message.

What are your top 5 most personal albums?

DP: Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - The Boatmans Call
Lisa Gerrard & Patrick Cassidy - Immortal Memory
The Beatles - Help
Pink Floyd - The Wall
Pink Floyd - The Final Cut

Where do you feel at home?

DP: Ireland is where I have felt more at peace than anywhere else. Liverpool will always be home though. Recently I have taken time to get in touch with old school friends in Liverpool and reflected on times that I didn't give attention to till now. It has been comforting in a way.

After all this years - is it so, so, so terrifying to lose control?

DP: I don't know now, it has been a long long time. But it is unnerving to see my friends losing it, which has happened a few times recently. Thats where my healing research comes in useful.

So are we or aren't we just a moment in time?

DP: We are actually, in this human form, which is what I was writing about. Though destiny can't die, and freedom is not only a hallucination ;)

Is everything energy? :P

DP: It must be. I'm not arguing with Einstein, or that woman who wrote The Secret.

If the doors of perception were cleansed, would every thing appear to men infinite?

DP: Love and magic

Love / One

2012-01-21T21:37:00.004+02:00

Действие n

Тъмно. На стената е облегнато голямо огледало. Ния и Дара влизат. Сядат на пода една срещу друга.

Дара (чуди се дали да каже): ...отчаяното желание да споделиш халюцинацията си със света...
Ния: Няма как, душичке.
Дара: Ето това е трагичното.
Ния: Защо да е трагично? Виж го от друга перспектива. Това му е забавното. Играта на различните халюцинации.
Дара: Но... но, то е толкова красиво, Ниичка, искам всички да го видят! Хахахаха, искам всички да ме прочетат!
Ния: Ама всеки си има едно такова красиво в душата - няма нужда да им показваш своето.
Дара: Ама ти си в моето, Ниичка, ти си вътре.
Ния (усмихва се): Не ме товари с тази отговорност, Дара. Не ми давай тези крила.
Дара (плаче): Ама те... те не тежат, душичке!
Ния: Защо тогава ми ги даваш?
Дара (смее се): Хахаха, лети сама, а?
Ния (усмихва се лукаво и поглежда към огледалото): Яяяя! Я-я-я-я-яяяя!
Дара: Не, не, не, не!
Дара: Хаааа!
Дара: Дали сме луди?
Дара: А не, бе! Прибрахме се вкъщи след работа, изгасихме лампите и седнахме прегърнати пред огледалото.

It's calling / killing me.
And in my darkest moment, fetal and weeping
The moon tells me a secret - my confidant
As full and bright as I am
This light is not my own and
A million light reflections pass over me

Взехте ми небето

2012-01-21T21:33:00.003+02:00

Небето те изяжда
Не небето над NY
Oнова, сивото, огромното
Над Берлин
Където ангелите не са руси и високи
А човеци
Глупави маймуни
Не знаят ли тези ангели
Че Раят има достатъчно,
че да ни погълне

Защото с Aurica бяхме деца заедно и откривахме света, без да се познаваме - пишехме си писма на немски в продължение на 4 години - тя в сивия Берлин, аз в пролетна София - всяка вечер по 13 страници, на лунна светлина и планинска сянка и после тя не пожела да се срещне с мен в Берлин. Прати ми тази снимка.
Направи ме човека, който съм и не пожела да се видим. Въпреки че трябваше да се пазим една друга от порастване. Както и да е, простих й. Не мога да не я обичам. Тя е моят ангел.

Историята е епична. Писмата са изгубени. И ме е толкова страх да посегна към нея, защото не искам да се упражнявам върху нея, разбираш ли? Искам да я напиша съвършено.

Всичко е самовнушение

2012-01-21T21:00:00.003+02:00

(Тъмна стая. Само по тавана се разливат светли езици в извънземни форми.)

Дара: Не съм го събудила, нали?
Ния: Не. Той не спи.
Дара: Не спи ли?
Ния: Не, разбира се. Ти губила ли си някога близък човек?
Дара: Не.
Ния: И да спиш, пак е болка. Видях как майка ми загуби своята майка... и беше непоносимо.
Дара (започва да пише): Проблемът е, че всичко, което напиша, изчезва!
Ния: Ама ти нищо не си написала!
Дара: Написала съм.
Ния: Не си!
Дара: Не, ето, написала съм, тук трябва да пише: „Виждам.”
Ния: Нищо не пише. Пиши!
(Дара пише.)
Ния: Дара, химикалката ти не пише! Да ти донеса ли друга? Да ти донеса ли молив? Молив по-добре...
(Носи молив)
Дара (пише):
„Майка ти е умряла и това оцветява пътя ми / му. Нямам право да мисля за това. Нямам право да пиша това. Дали е емпатия? Или егоизъм? Къде са границите, където двете се сливат? Думите изгряват на листа като в картина на Anathema. Всъщност това е първото, което ти споделих. Колко различен беше тогава, колко безсмислен и неопръскан със символна кръв. После дойде и си играеше с обицата ми и това пак беше лишено от смисъл. Но вече не е. Защото майка ти е умряла и аз чувствам това...”
(Започва да плаче. Никой не реагира. След минута хваща молива и отново започва да пише. Смях.)
Ясен: OK, back to normal now… Поплака си, но трябва да се пише. Чшшт, чшшт, чшшт...
(Смях.)
Дара: Звучим ли вече като в албум на Porcupine Tree?
(Мълчание.)
Дара: Всъщност няма откъде да се върнеш, защото...
Ясен: Защото си си у дома?
Дара: Защото си си у дома. Смъртта го направи красив. Ето. Всичко е самовнушение. Само че някои самовнушения са по-внушителни от другите. Като във „Фермата”. Трябва да му го напиша!
(Взима телефона.)
Ния: Не! Дара, дай ми телефона! Не, не, не. (Взима телефона) Ако бях на негово място бих прибегнала до физическо насилие!
Дара: Добре, мамо... Не си много добра майка.
Ясен: Е, нали отглеждате дете – вие трябва да знаете какво е да си майка...
Дара: Точно това е! Не знаеш. Дават ти едно парче месо в ръцете и ти казват: „Оправяй се!”
Ния: Дават ти една черна кутия и не знаеш какво се случва. Пъхаш вътре някакви жакове и пробваш, експериментираш кое ще подейства...
Дара: Искат от теб да ръководиш живота на някого, при положение че дори не знаеш как да ръководиш своя!
Ния: Кой иска?
Дара: Животът иска.
Ния: Животът иска да ръководиш живота?
Дара: Да, както ние водим Ана за ръка...
(Мълчание)
Дара: Всъщност, Ния... Въпросът е, че това, което има значение за мен, няма никакво значение за него.
Ния: Остави го. Той е във своето си нещо. Няма как да влезеш в него, няма как да построиш мост към него. Той е сам.
Дара: Защо трябва да е сам?
Ясен: Абе, остави човека на мира!
Ния: Не можеш да му помогнеш.
(Мълчание)
Дара: Това е големият спор... Дали е или не е сам...
Ясен: Имам ли шанс да си хапна от тая манджа?
Ния: Моля те.
Дара: Ръката ми е много странна. Сякаш не е моя, сякаш е пластмасова...
Ния: Я я размърдай.
(Дара раздвижва пръсти. Смее се.)
Ния: Ти ли я движиш?
Дара: Не.
Ния: Кой я движи?
Дара: Ти. От ръката ми тръгват безцветни нишки към теб.
Ния: Хммм... Дали мога да те накарам да направиш каквото искам?
Дара: Опитай.
Ния: Мммм.
Дара: Ния!
Ния: Ама не исках това!
(Смях.)
Дара (гледа към Ясен): Пръстите му имат очи..
Ясен: Слагала ли си патладжан или бамя вътре?
(Смях.)
Дара: Аз пиша с ръката, която вижда...
Ясен: Тя не е ли моя?
Дара: Твоята ръка е моя. Ния ръководи ръката, която има очи... Забелязали ли сте колко е красиво това горе? (Гледа към светлините)
Ясен: Да, това горе си говорих няколко пъти с него. Дори го рисувах.
Дара (пише): Дори го излъгах...
Ния: Не го е излъгал, рисувал го е.
Дара: Не, той каза, че го е излъгал!
Ния: Рисувал го е, спри да пишеш – сега лъжеш, като пишеш.
Дара (пише):
„Виждам как дишаш. Виждам как гръдта ти се движи нагоре-надолу като клонка живот. Всичко е разпиляно и ти го събираш бавно и методично към светлината. Страх те е да останеш насаме със себе си, искаш всичко да документираш. Страх те е да влезеш в себе си, където никой не пише, където другите не пишат, прекалено светло е, извънземно е. Извън земята. Това е, което искам да ти кажа цяла вечер. Ние сме извънземни, защото сме били пръст, на пръст сме станали и сме били извънземни помежду. Без земя, без майка, без пръст под краката.”
(Ясен става. Дара става и го прегръща. Прегръдките са космически. Сливаш се.)
Ясен: Как хубаво стъпи на краката ми.
Дара: Така стъпвам на краката на Ния, така стъпвах на краката на Румен, така стъпвах на майка си на краката, защото няма как да стъпваш сам и после стъпките ти се впиват в чуждите и винаги животът ти е в нечии стъпки.
(Мълчание.)
Дара: Ния, това е проблемът. Че ние пишем някакви лични неща, които засягат други хора... И когато ги пишем, ги засягаме...
Ния (смее се): Лично?
Дара: Да.
Ния: Вие всъщност се страхувате от собствената си душа. И бягате от нея чрез други хора...
Ясен: Те пишат за себе си.
Дара: Не, ние сме другите. Разделението е самовнушение... Ния, дай ми телефона.
Ния: Това е толкова нагло. Да му напишеш, че да скърби по майка си е самовнушение. Ти наистина не обичаш майка си.
Дара: Не.
(Затваря очи и потъва. Пише наум.)
„Всичко свърши. Край. Затваряме кепенците. Шоуто свърши. Прибираме парчетата живот, в които крещи светлина... които ни гъделичкат, докато спим и пропукват съня. Всичко това е такава поза. Не мога да те разбера, докато не си представя своята майка умряла. Всичко притъмнява, притъмнява, притъмнява... Все по-тъмно. Всичко спира. Сгъвам се на точица. Вътре в земята. Гади ми се.”
Дара: Ния... Не мога да си представя, че някога съм била в утробата й.

godspeed

2012-01-20T01:21:00.001+02:00

...infinity sweeping and falling away from you in all directions a dream you keep having where you are falling slowly or fast there is no bottom never has been or will be you will never land...

...all radial sound waves eminate from machine's busted heart like thin, infinite pink lasers or else sometimes like mile high cloud of bees or burred ton sinking...

...Babylonian Triangle of Captivity (are lights, triggered motion detectors activate nine grid sweep by roboticised surrveilance cameras and rapid deployment of cranky armed response team, fluorescent lights buzzing you are really very hungry and the buzzing parts puts this pain in your skull like geothermic plates scraping against each other, you are having a bad day you cannot see what he is typing into his computer but the thing beeps twice when he enters your name)...

...signal source = heart rusted machine blown, tubes ruined, torn gears, jury rigged wiring is faulty; shoots sparks (blue), smoke (black), flames (white) and buzzes uncontrollably...

...the things we endure, soon they are distant bad memories: we spent the last of our money on taxicabs + beer, stayed up all night hatching plans...

...tape loop so long it was rocketed thru atmosphere by wigged-out soviet cosmonaut - one edge rapped around a distant japanese weather satellite, other edge mounted on junked ¼ inch tape machine with misaligned heads; spinning satellite acts as a captain, tape loop moved over heads of tape machine at speed of satellites orbit x speed of earths orbit; playback is sporadic, tape loop so long it will take three lifetimes to hear its entirety...

[Regret] F#

[Fear] ∞

[Desire] A#

[Hope] ∞

1. continuous self-doubt...

3. inescapable police car/anxiety continuum

a. lack of money, resources... (helplessness)

Interview with Katatonia

2012-01-19T15:00:00.004+02:00

How do you combine creativity with fatherhood and touring? Do you need discipline to pull it off or is inspiration something that cannot be forced?

Anders: Well, it depends on what I compare with. It's definitely not like in the past where I wrote all the album's music effortlessly by myself and honestly I don't know if I ever will be in that situation again. These days I rarely get the time to write at all, I'm always busy and that doesn't really leave a lot of room for motivation. These recent years, or especially 2007 and 2008 was probably the worst creative period I ever had. I wanna change that around now, so I'm trying to keep some guitars close at hand around the home, to be reminded and to have the opportunity to grab one when the inspiration shows up. I also have a small homestudio setup that allows me to write and record all my ideas, but the power has very rarely been on. Hopefully this will change too. I don't want to force myself, but I probably need to, if something is gonna come out of me at all. I need a big kick in the ass and a few more hours on the clock!

Jonas: This is something I have chosen. It works fine. Sure, I'm away for a long time occasionally but I also spend more time with my kids when I'm home since I have free time then.

Jonas, what kind of music do your sons like?

Jonas: I have two sons, one is eight and one is two. Both of them seems to like music very much, right now it's Eurovision kind of hit songs that are popular.

Do you sit down to compose music or do you wait for inspiration?

Jonas: It differs from time to time. Sometimes the best idea in the world just comes without warning and sometimes I have to sit around playing guitar all day to find something ever so small that is worth working further on...

Night Is The New Day really surprised me because it’s the most harmonious and homogeneous record you’ve ever made. It’s a huge leap. How did this happen? Does it reflect your maturity as people in real life?

Jonas: I guess so, I haven't really thought about it. We get different sources of inspiration all the time. Stagnation is not an option.

When you listen to the album, does it take you to any particular place or time?

Jonas: Well, just the room where I was struggling with the songwriting. Unfortunately, I'd like them to resemble a much more beautiful place. But I think it is not for me, but the listener!

When and where do you write lyrics?

Jonas: Usually I collect parts, things I write when I'm home. Then I finish everything in the studio.

Do you do a lot of re-writing? Is editing your own lyrics hard?

Jonas: Loads of re-writing! It's kind of hard but I know that it will be worth it in the end!

How do you find the balance between simplicity and cliches?
Jonas: Im not sure I have found the balance, haha. But I hope that I have an inner censorship that prevents me from using at least the worst cliches.

You’ve said that the bird in Unfurl represents death – is this song about addiction or letting go?

Jonas: Could be both actually.

Were there any direct experiences that inspired Deliberation?

Jonas: Not really, just a lot of serious thoughts boiled down to something quite abstract.

Are you excited about touring with Opeth in the States? What do you think of Heritage?

Jonas: I think the album is great. It is the kind of music Opeth have been leading up to since their beginning. I am really looking forward to the US tour. Fantastic times are going to be had.

What do you think of Mike’s sense of humor?

Jonas: Well, he is a funny guy. Personally I think the music of Opeth is more serious and live shows would be more in line with the bands outlook if he didn't want to be the new Jerry Seinfeld all the time. But he knows my opinion on this and apparently he doesn't give a shit. Haha.

We know you like Jeff Buckley and Radiohead, what other non-metal bands inspire you?

Jonas: Sun Kil Moon, Red House Painters, Talk Talk, Massive Attack... and much more.

What are your top 5 albums? (No exact order)
Jonas: Right now... Sun Kil Moon - Admiral Fell Promises, Tool - Aenima, Morbid Angel - Blessed are the sick, Red House Painters - Ocean Beach.

Anders: It's easier to point out top artists, or top songs, but top albums... That's just too hard! I guess the most personal top album of all time to me would be The Cure's 'Disintegration', so I'll leave it at that.

Anders, what’s in rotation on your mp3 player right now? Have you discovered any cutting edge bands lately?

Anders: I've been cranking Morbid Angel's 'Illud Divinum Insanus' a lot for obvious reasons. The new Autopsy record as well! Other artists on rotation would be Sun Kil Moon, Rebecka Karijord, Fair To Midland, Lisa Miskovsky, Whitesnake... I keep my playlist very mixed and versatile, so there's always something for each mood and situation.

Is there a band you can’t stand and why?

Anders: Oh how much time do we got here haha! The first one that comes to mind is Godsmack! They do a great job at being terrible to both my ears and eyes.

What’s the song that describes your mood right now?

Jonas: Lars Danielsson - Berlin.

Anders: Any tune about sleep, getting way too little of that these days. i need a nap right now!

I think every Katatonia fan has one nagging question: what’s up with the EPs? :) Do you put your best songs on your EPs on purpose? Are they a reward for tru fans?
Anders: They are! I think ep’s are great collector items! The editions are usually really small and limited and there’s only space enough for a couple of songs, so you can promote maybe a main single off the album and then put some remixes and/or unreleased songs on there that just makes it really special to own. For some reason the songs we decided to put on our EP's have become fan favorites, but it's not intentionally, it's just some odd tradition that seem to repeat itself.

Do you have any Easter eggs (hidden messages) in your albums that no one has discovered?

Anders: There's been a few enigmas about the artwork on a few albums with some symbols and some text that people raised their eyebrows over. Nothing we planned on revealing or commenting on though. We like to keep things obscure.

When you write songs is there a moment when the songs start writing themselves?

Anders: Yeah usually that happens when you're really caught in the flow and reach the creative peak. It's a lovely feeling when you have the "luxury" to even trash ideas and sift through lots of left over material instead of waiting around for any material to even appear. Everything we write goes through a filter process, or even a couple of them, so we're very hard on ourselves. Every piece of the song has to be there for a reason and talk to us, so once we connect, the stream is steady.

What about Travis Smith – what’s your collaboration with him like? You obviously inspire him, but does he inspire you? How did you pick the cover of Night Is The New Day?

Anders: Yeah we've been working together for 11 years now and he's done every Katatonia album artwork since then. It's always intriguing working closely with Trav because we spin off each other's ideas. It's like walking a ladder, where I might get stuck he knows how to take another step and vice versa. I think we're a great team. We're actually working together right now on the new artwork for our upcoming DVD.

What’s the weirdest dream you have ever had? Are there any songs you’ve dreamed of?

Jonas: I usually don't remember my dreams, and the weird ones I remember are too complicated to tell, haha. I can use parts of interesting dreams in lyrics but it's not very common.

Anders: I kinda have bizzarre dreams every night. They're reminiscent of weird and hard to get David Lynch movies and mostly out of context. Sometimes I wish I could record these dreams and watch it again when you wake up, sometimes I don't!

Does Katatonia have a therapeutic effect for you? As Anders put it in an interview: "channeling the negativity" out of your system?

Jonas: Yes sometimes it's a real relief to immerse into the world of creativity and forget about all the bollocks in the real world.

Anders: Yes that would be fair to say. I'm pretty sure I would be a quite introspective, socially withdrawn and negative person if I didn't have Katatonia cause I wouldn't know any other rewarding method to release the demons. I think it's a very delicate thing, a very sensitive decision to have all your own emotional and uncomfortable states of mind as the direct source and also fuel for creating music/art. But this is what we chose a long time ago and thus who we are.

You speak of the void your music creates and your lyrics have phrases like “I am nothing”, “dark night of the soul”, “repeating cycle of light/no light” which remind me of Eastern philosophy – non-duality and enlightenment teachings. Are you interested in them, and do you think this void mental state is actually liberating?

Jonas: I would love to look further into a philosophy like that because it would work well with me. But I definitely don't have the enthusiasm to study... Void mental state is good sometimes.

Do you still think that labels will become obsolete with the expansion of internet? A lot of big bands like Radiohead and NIN sell their new records directly online which makes it much easier to support them.

Anders: I think record labels are a dying breed. Technology is advancing fast and much of the record label industry don't keep up and they're not just one step after, they're far behind! If or when the artist gets the sole control and power to promote themselves and the finances to allow them to fund their own touring, a record label would be the last thing they'd need in the equation, but we're not quite there yet.

Everyone has a ridiculous dream they haven’t fulfilled yet. What’s yours?

Jonas: I want to have my own house with an escalator leading down to my own subway station in the basement. It's something I have dreamt about for many years.

Anders: You know what, that would be go sharkdiving! Getting down the ocean face to face with a great white been a dream ever since I was a kid. I need to make that happen!

gy!be - static

2012-01-19T11:57:00.000+02:00

...and so the path through the great corridors
these are corridors unto his perfection
that is which the prophet and the oarman summoned has penetrated
that through this great sea of blackness
that i penetrated through these corridors
and i went through that last segment
where i went through these dark serpentines
i passed through that corridor
where they sat
where they are
and when you penetrate to the most high god
you will believe you are mad
you will believe you've gone insane
but i tell you if you follow the secret window
and you die to the ego nature
you will penetrate this darkness
oh yes there's many a man or woman
that's been put in the insane asylum
when this has happened to them
and they're sitting there today, people think they're insane
but they saw something that's real
and they see it when they're on drugs
the only thing is they see it
not through the light of god, and the way i show you
i show you to see it through the light of god
and the understanding of god
because when you see the face of god you will die
and there will be nothing left of you
except the god-man, the god-woman
the heavenly man, the heavenly woman
the heavenly child
there will be terror under this day of night
there will be a song of jubilee waiting for your king
there will be nothing you will be looking for in this world
except for your god
this is all a dream
a dream in death

and so i went through that window
and the tower of hell and the great serpentines of the highest order
and i went through that when i showed you chart
the question is asked and learned and someone who....

waking life

2012-01-17T11:44:00.000+02:00

The term "lucid dreaming" refers to dreaming while knowing that you are dreaming. The "lucid" part refers to the clarity of consciousness rather than the vividness of the dream.

Usually lucidity brings with it some degree of control over the course of the dream. How much control is possible varies from dream to dream and from dreamer to dreamer. Practice can apparently contribute to the ability to exert control over dream events. At the least, lucid dreamers can choose how they wish to respond to the events of the dream. For example, you can decide to face up to a frightening dream figure, knowing it cannot harm you, rather than to try to avoid the danger as you naturally would if you did not know it was a dream. Even this amount of control can transform the dream experience from one in which you are the helpless victim of frequently terrifying, frustrating, or maddening experiences to one in which you can dismiss for a while the cares and concerns of waking life. On the other hand, some people are able to achieve a level of mastery in their lucid dreaming where they can create any world, live any fantasy, and experience anything they can imagine.

Knowing you are dreaming simply allows you to direct the dream along constructive or positive lines, like you direct your thoughts when you are awake.

2012-01-15T14:01:00.002+02:00

- Що да не бъдеш щастлив с някоя жена, бе тати?
- Защото... тя говори.

:)

2012-01-15T10:42:00.002+02:00

And it's my job to be embittered and constantly proving the mystery

all the love

2012-01-13T21:18:00.000+02:00

We fear the things
We do not understand

The powers

Of good
And evil

Of the world

The past
The future

The promises

The folly
Of those who died

For nothing

Leaving their wives
And their children

For love

The only thing
That makes us human

Теологията на въображението в творчеството на Уилям Блейк

2012-01-12T13:47:00.003+02:00

– Исус - рече той - той е единственият Бог.

Но след това добави:

– Както и аз, както и ти.[1]

Така младият журналист Хенри Краб Робинсън предава част от разговора си с поета и художника Уилям Блейк. Това е типично за Уилям Блейк изказване – кратко и ясно, почти афористично, но въпреки всичко двусмислено. Интерпретацията на вярванията на Уилям Блейк винаги е била нелека задача, но може да започнем с разбирането му за „Христос” като символ на човешката способност за въображение. Думите му към Краб Робинсън говорят, че той не само е вярвал, че божествената същност на Исус Христос съществува редом с всеки човешки индивид, но и че истинският спасител на човечеството е въображението.

Блейк има предвид една много специфична форма на „въображение” – форма, която съдържа нашето съвременно тълкуване, но обхваща и идеята за онази област на ума, която днес наричаме подсъзнание. Според Блейк Исус е ключът на нашата култура към предсъзнателната енергия на въображението:

I know of no other Christianity and no other gospel, than the liberty both of body and mind to exercise the divine arts of Imagination. Imagination, the real and eternal world of which this vegetable universe is but a faint shadow, and in which we shall live in our eternal or imaginative bodies when these vegetable, mortal bodies are no more. The apostles knew of no other gospel.[2]

Дистанцираното разчитане на дълбоките кодове на религията присъства в цялото творчество на Уилям Блейк. Впечатляваща е способността му да се абстрахира критически от тогавашните религиозни и философски институции. Той съумява да анализира състоянието на въображението в умствената среда, в която е роден, по истински радикален и обективен начин. В много отношения Блейк изпреварва времето си. Явно му липсват определени изрази относно структурите на ума – лексика, която се развива осемдесет, сто години по-късно. За да се справи с тази липса, Блейк изобретява собствени понятия. Той дава множество имена на различни умствени енергии и способности. Тези енергии биват персонифицирани в отделни индивиди, обитаващи града наречен Голгонуза – Градът на въображението. Донякъде може да се каже, че Блейк е ранен психолог, тъй като интересите му са насочени главно към умствените феномени, чиято колективна форма движи събитията в историята.

Имайки предвид психологическия контекст, не би било неоснователно да заключим, че Уилям Блейк смята религията за човешко творение. За него творчеството възниква от дейността на „Поетическия Гений” – олицетворение на човешкото въображение:

Principle 2nd: As all men are alike in outward form, so (and with the same infinite variety) all are alike in the Poetic Genius.

Principle 5th: The Religions of all Nations are derived from each Nation’s different reception of the Poetic Genius, which is everywhere called the Spirit of Prophecy.

Principle 6th: The Jewish and Christian Testaments are an original derivation from the Poetic Genius; this is necessary from the confined nature of bodily sensation.

Principle 7th: As all men are alike (though infinitely various) so all Religions etc., as all similars, have one source. The true Man is the source, he being the Poetic Genius.[3]

Вярванията на Блейк преминават от пантеизъм („everything on earth is the word of God & in its essence is God”[4]) през хуманизъм („God only Acts & Is, in existing beings or Men”[5]) в хуманистичен пантеизъм („Thus men forgot that аll deities reside in the human breast”[6]). Или както казва Исус в Jerusalem: “I am in you and you in me, mutual in love divine”; “Within your bosoms I reside, and you reside in me”[7]. Блейк често описва божествената енергия като нещо, което съществува едновременно във и извън човешкия ум: „Man is All Imagination. God is Man & exists in us & we in him”[8]; „God is within, & without! he is even in the depths of Hell!”[9]. Във въображението Бог и човек стават неразличими. Божественото и човешкото въображение не са две отделни сили, а една. За Блейк тази сила е сакралната природа на реалността: „Every thing possible to be believ'd is an image of truth”; „How do you know but ev'ry Bird that cuts the airy way, is an immense world of delight, clos'd by your senses five?”.

Може да се каже, че по един или друг начин Блейк е вярвал, че вселената (или поне вселената, която познаваме) се съдържа в човешкия ум. Това включва не само цялата доктринална структура на установената религия, но и образа или идеята за Бог. Следователно е логично да предположим, че Блейк е бил противник на разпространената по негово време деистична идея за Бога като далечна и външна сила. Според деизма Бог е отдалечен не само в пространствено, но и във времево отношение – след създаването на вселената, Той се оттегля и повече не взема участие в потока на събитията. Деизмът също така твърди, че единственото духовно измерение на вселената е в същността на този далечен Бог, определяйки настоящия свят като напълно материален и оставяйки всичко сакрално в далечното минало. Блейк, напротив, смята, че сакралното време е „сега” или по-точно „винаги” (и материалното и духовното са неразделно свързани „завинаги”).

Може също да предположим, че психологизмът му обуславя аисторичните му, антиреалистични възгледи за християнството. Макар да смята Исус Христос за историческа личност, Блейк всъщност го възприема като живата сила в ума на индивида. Той възприема Библията като код на психологичната действителност, от който може да извлече примери за всички умствени състояния на човека. За него възкресението е събитие, което може да се случи в живота на всеки човек, когато въображението се освободи от оковите на закона на разума. Множеството образи на невъзнесения Христос в творчеството на Блейк символизират именно въображението, поробено от Закона на църквата. Също така Страшният съд може да бъде възприет не като единично събитие в края на времената, а като психологично събитие, което често се повтаря в течение на времето, както и възникването на новия рай и на новата земя (ако човек постигне себепознание).

Възможно е да предположим, че когато Блейк използва думата „Рай”, той всъщност говори за пространствата на ума – пространства, които, разбира се, съдържат и „Ада”. Този „Ад” е изворът на нашите енергии и креативни импулси:

Good is the passive that obeys Reason. Evil is the active springing from Energy.

Good is Heaven. Evil is Hell.[10]

В този смисъл Богът на нашия свят днес е Богът на Разума, който е откраднал част от Рая, отцепил я е и е „паднал” (възвисил се, както бихме казали днес) в света на Аза и съзнанието. В една от илюстрациите си към „Книгата на Йов” (Plate 11), Блейк изобразява как Йов открива, че Богът, който е почитал, е измама и всъщност е Сатаната. Това е Богът на Разума – Уризен („your reason”, „Ur-reason” или „horizon”) – законодателят, Богът на отмъстителната правда, Йехова. Блейк презира новата възхвалявана „Епоха на Разума”, която се формира около него през 19-ти век. За него творческото въображение е главният принцип на човешкото съществуване, докато разумът посредничи между въображението и външния свят, подобно на егото, което посредничи между желанията и Аза. Но религията е узурпирала естествената роля на разума и нейната роля по-скоро е да потиска и контролира, отколкото да дава „форма” на „идеята”. Когато външните нравствени закони и разумът се налагат върху човешката творческа природа, се получават противоречия. Блейк изтъква християнската догма като източник на подобни противоречия и нарича свещените закони „грешки” в „The Voice of the Devil”:

All Bibles or sacred codes have been the causes of the following Errors:

1. That Man has two real existing principles Viz: a Body & a Soul.

2. That Energy, call'd Evil, is alone from the Body, & that Reason, call'd Good, is alone from the Soul.

3. That God will torment Man in Eternity for following his Energies.

But the following Contraries to these are True:

1. Man has no Body distinct from his Soul for that call'd Body is a portion of Soul discern'd by the five Senses, the chief inlets of Soul in this age

2. Energy is the only life and is from the Body and Reason is the bound or outward circumference of Energy.

3. Energy is Eternal Delight.[11]

Блейк противопоставя енергията на разума: „Without Contraries is no progression. Attraction and Repulsion, Reason and Energy, Love and Hate, are necessary to Human existence”[12]. Следователно можем да заключим, че за Блейк въображението е енергия, въплътена във форма. Когато разумът отрича валидността на интуитивното познание или когато нравственото подчинение бива подхранвано за сметка на волята, енергията или въображението, творческото взаимодействие на противоположностите бива прекъснато и човек се отчуждава от себе си. „Пословиците от Ада” изобразяват пасивността и угнетеността на въображението от религията: "Prisons are built with stones of Law, Brothels with bricks of Religion"; "He who desires but acts not, breeds pestilence"[13].

Блейк създава цял кръг от митологични фигури, които олицетворяват неговите принципи. Такъв е Лос (Сол (слънце) на обратно[14]), който е реципрочен на Исус Христос. Лос е абсолютната еманация на креативната енергия, той заявява: „I must Create a System, or be enslav'd by another Man's. I will not Reason & Compare: my business is to Create”[15]. Блейк вероятно се отъждествява с фигурата на своя герой - Лос-Исус, но не бива да забравяме, че всички герои на неговия психологически мит са аспекти на самия човек. Лос символизира човека-демиург, който създава вечната вселена. Той е носителят на Urthona (Earth Owner) в падналия свят – един от четирите фундаментални аспекта на индивида: въображение (Urthona), разум (Urizen), емоции (Luvah) и тяло (Tharmas). Изгряващите съзвездия, танцуващите насекоми, планинските дървета и бурите са синове на Лос, те са Виденията от Вечността. Според Блейк природата е проекция на човека, всички нейни форми са човешки. За него всички неща са вечни и извират от Божествената човешкост.[16] Светът на въображението и светът на Божествената вечност са едно. Всичко е част от божественото тяло на Спасителя, който е истинският извор на вечността – човешкото въображение:

This world of Imagination is the world of Eternity; it is the divine bosom into which we shall all go after the death of the vegetable body. This World of Imagination is Infinite and Eternal, whereas the world of Generation, or Vegetation, is Finite & Temporal. There Exist in that Eternal World the Permanent Realities of Every Thing which we see reflected in this Vegetable Glass of Nature. All Things are comprehended in their Eternal Forms in the divine body of the Savior, the True Vine of Eternity, the Human Imagination, who appear'd to Me as Coming to Judgment among his Saints & throwing off the Temporal that the Eternal might be Establish'd; around him were seen the Images of Existence according to a certain order Suited to my Imaginative Eye as follows...[17]

Неразбран и отхвърлен от съвременниците си, днес Уилям Блейк е смятан за един от националните пророци на Англия. Блейк трябва да бъде разбиран като главна фигура на нашето време, в което потискащите материалистични догми трябва да отстъпят място на Епохата на Въображението. Защото само чрез въображение можем да оформим света около себе си и да бъдем спасени. Това е пътят, посочен от Христос, който олицетворява най-висшата форма на въображение. За да следваме Исус на въображението трябва да се противопоставим на разумния, механичен и безплоден начин на живот.

ЛИТЕРАТУРА

Bentley, G. E. Jr. Blake Books. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1977.

Blake, William. Selected Poetry. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996.

Blake, William. The Complete Poetry and Prose of William Blake. New York: Doubleday, 1988.

Blake, William. The Marriage of Heaven and Hell. The Alchemy Website. URL: http://www.levity.com/alchemy/blake_ma.html; посетена на 06.02.2008 г.

Damon, S. Foster. A Blake Dictonary: The Ideas and Symbols of William Blake.

Hanover: U P of New England, 1988.

Paley, Morton D. Energy and the Imagination. A Study of the Development of Blake's. Thought. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1970.

Robinson, Crabb. Nineteenth-century Accounts of William Blake. Gainesville: Scholar's Facsimiles and Reprints, l970.

[1] Crabb Robinson, Nineteenth-century Accounts of William Blake, 65.

[2] William Blake, Jerusalem: To the Christians. The Complete Poetry and Prose of William Blake, 231.

[3] William Blake, All Religions are One. The Complete Poetry and Prose of William Blake, 1.

[4] G. E. Bentley Jr., From the annotations to Johann Caspar Lavater’s Aphorisms on Man, Blake Books, 690.

[5] William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, pl. 16, The Alchemy Website, URL: http://www.levity.com/alchemy/blake_ma.html; посетена на 06.02.2008 г.

[6] Пак там, pl. 11.

[7] William Blake, Jerusalem: The Emanation of the Giant Albion, The Complete Poetry and Prose of William Blake, 146.

[8] William Blake, From the annotations to Bishop Berkeley's Siris, Selected Poetry, 264.

[9] William Blake, Jerusalem: The Emanation of the Giant Albion, The Complete Poetry and Prose of William Blake, 155.

[10] William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, pl. 3, The Alchemy Website, URL: http://www.levity.com/alchemy/blake_ma.html; посетена на 06.02.2008 г.

[11] William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, pl. 4, The Alchemy Website, URL: http://www.levity.com/alchemy/blake_ma.html; посетена на 06.02.2008 г.

[12] William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, pl. 3, The Alchemy Website, URL: http://www.levity.com/alchemy/blake_ma.html; посетена на 06.02.2008 г.

[13] Пак там, pl. 7-10

[14] Обратното писане е от особено значение за Блейк. Той издълбава своите метални плочки с обърнат текст, който напечатан излиза нормално. Обикновено обърнатият текст е послание от Вечните и Безсмъртните в митологията на Блейк.

[15] William Blake, Jerusalem: The Emanation of the Giant Albion, The Complete Poetry and Prose of William Blake, 153.

[16] Samuel Damon, A Blake Dictionary: The Ideas and Symbols of William Blake, 129.

[17] William Blake, A Vision of The Last Judgment, The Complete Poetry and Prose of William Blake, 555.

The string theorists were scammed!

2012-01-12T10:03:00.001+02:00

String theorists: We've got the Standard Model, and it works great, but it doesn't include gravity, and it doesn't explain lots of other stuff, like why all the elementary particles have the masses they do. We need a new, broader theory.

Nature: Here's a great new theory I can sell you. It combines quantum field theory and gravity, and there's only one adjustable parameter in it, so all you have to do is find the right value of that parameter, and the Standard Model will pop right out.

String theorists: We'll take it.

String theorists (some time later): Wait a minute, Nature, our new theory won't fit into our driveway. String theory has ten dimensions, and our driveway only has four.

Nature: I can sell you a Calabi-Yau manifold. These are really neat gadgets, and they'll fold up string theory into four dimensions, no problem.

String theorists: We'll take one of those as well, please.

Nature: Happy to help.

String theorists (some time later): Wait a minute, Nature, there's too many different ways to fold our Calabi-Yao manifold up. And it keeps trying to come unfolded. And string theory is only compatible with a negative cosmological constant, and we own a positive one.

Nature: No problem. Just let me tie this Calabi-Yao manifold up with some strings and branes, and maybe a little duct tape, and you'll be all set.

String theorists: But our beautiful new theory is so ugly now!

Nature: Ah! But the Anthropic Principle says that all the best theories are ugly.

String theorists: It does?

Nature: It does. And once you make it the fashion to be ugly, you'll ensure that other theories will never beat you in beauty contests.

String theorists: Hooray! Hooray! Look at our beautiful new theory.

By Peter W. Shor

ha

2012-01-12T09:15:00.000+02:00

"Who can say which is really true when we are merely building imaginary constructs in the first place?" - Rob Bryanton, квантов физик

LP :)

2012-01-11T19:22:00.001+02:00

The neoplatonic philosopher Plotinus conceived of the cosmos as a vast spinning disc. A godlike being would see that nothing really changes, but the human perspective, which only sees one part of the cosmos, conveys the impression that things are in constant flux. Old vinyl records illustrate this principle. The LP disk is the cosmos seen by the philosopher.

2012-01-10T18:37:00.001+02:00

If you see the Buddha on the road, kill him.

phew

2012-01-09T18:52:00.003+02:00

I choose curious agnosticism.

Оставете Бог да си почине

2012-01-09T10:58:00.002+02:00

Всяка мисъл е вселена
Оставете света да си почине
Спрете да създавате вселени
Нека бъде Неделя
Нека Бог си почине

2012-01-09T10:28:00.002+02:00

Да, това е Теорията на всичко, Ясене. Защото винаги е вярна. Защото никога не е вярна. :) Това я прави непобедима.

Ctrl + Alt + Del

2012-01-09T03:02:00.003+02:00

Контрол Алтернатива Триене

Изтриване на алтернативата / Контрол на Алтренативата

Най-добрите психонавти са тези, които осъзнават, че тяхната истина е просто едно "какво ако", алтернативна рамка. Да го еба в пъзела Удивителен
Задраскахме точката. Остана само векторът.

Бог е субект и обект в едно.

2012-01-09T02:58:00.002+02:00

Ако Исус срещне Исус,
дали би правил секс с него?

Нищо / Зло

2012-01-09T02:56:00.001+02:00

Всички сме в трипа. И в истинския живот, и в матрицата. Когато Лодкарят осъзнае, че Сизиф осъзнава, че Исус осъзнава, че Кришна осъзнава, че аз осъзнавам, че всичко е добро, тогава ще...

2012-01-09T02:53:00.000+02:00

Светнах като крушка
Всичко разбирам
Всичко виждам
Всичко чувам
Всичко знам
Аз съм Бог
Но Бог е мъртъв.

2012-01-09T02:49:00.002+02:00

Звездата на любовта
Се колебае
Се люлее
От люлката до гроба
до люлката до гроба
до люлката до гроба
from the cradle to enslave
В ковчега грее звезда
Без сателити
Звездата на любовта

2012-01-09T02:45:00.004+02:00

Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре Вътре
Вън

2012-01-08T22:57:00.009+02:00

‎"Абе, нещо много арт това пътуване..." Хахахахахаххаха!

2012-01-08T12:32:00.000+02:00

Исус х 2
Лице
Пътят

what if's

2012-01-07T18:44:00.001+02:00

The best explorers are people who realise that even the truths they see are not "truths", but new models, new "what if's?", alternative frames.
- Douglas Rushkoff

Йоан Кръстител

2012-01-07T15:22:00.002+02:00

aubrey beardsley

Kurt Vonnegut - Breakfast for Champions

2012-01-07T14:32:00.000+02:00

Kilgore Trout took a leak in the men's room of the New York City movie house. (...) There was a message written in pencil on the tiles by the roller towel. This was it:

Trout plundered his pockets for a pen or pencil. He had an answer to the question. But he had nothing to write with, not even a burnt match. So he left the question unanswered, but here is what he would have written, if he had found anything to write with:

To be
the eyes

and ears
and conscience
of the Creator of the Universe,
you fool.

***

What was the apple which Eve and Adam ate? It was the Creator of the Universe. And so on. Symbols can be so beautiful, sometimes.

Rebekka Guðleifsdóttir - Eve
http://www.rebekkagudleifs.com/

2012-01-07T06:30:00.006+02:00

Сърби ме гърлото
Сърбят ме гласните струни
Искам да изкашлям истината
Но не мога
Сърби ме кожата
Впивам нокти
И потъват
Лудите наричат това лудост
Будните наричат това ад
Искам да кажа нещо
Но гласът ми се губи
В жужене на кошер
В свистене на люлка
Истината не е истина
Илюзията се вижда с илюзия
Свалям думи от себе си
Както се свалят дрехи
Както се свалят тела
Но какво ще стане
Ако сваля очите си?

"I've been mad for fucking years, absolutely years, been over the edge for yonks, been working me buns off for bands..."

"I've always been mad, I know I've been mad, like the
most of us...very hard to explain why you're mad, even if you're not mad..."

2012-01-07T04:18:00.001+02:00

the universe is hostile, so impersonal...

2012-01-07T03:25:00.003+02:00

тъмнината / тишината е важна
целувка
мая се смее и се завърта: jista kista
дете: нали цигулката е същата като тефтера като листа като химикалката, напиши сега: целувка, просто махарана за ядки

ahahaha

2012-01-06T23:49:00.004+02:00

"If God dropped acid, would He see people?"

- Steven Wright

epiphany

2012-01-06T16:05:00.002+02:00

Frothing at the mouth, the south wind shaking him like a reed, the Baptist was shouting, “Repent! Repent! The day of the Lord has come! Roll on the ground, bite the dust, howl! The Lord of Hosts has said: ‘On this day I shall command the sun to set at noon; I shall crush the horns of the new moon and spill darkness over heaven and earth. I shall reverse your laughter, turn it into tears, and your songs into lamentation. I shall blow, and all your finery—hands, feet, noses, ears, hair — will fall to the ground.’ ”
Judas strode forward and took Jesus by the arm. “Do you hear? Do you hear? Look! that’s how the Messiah speaks! He is the Messiah!”
“No, Judas, my brother,” Jesus answered; “he who holds the ax and opens the way for the Messiah speaks in that way, but the Messiah does not.” He bent down, broke off a sharp green leaf and passed it between his teeth.
“He who opens the way is the Messiah,” the redbeard growled. He pushed Jesus in order to make him emerge from the reeds and show himself.
“Move ahead; let him see you,” he ordered. “He will judge.”
Jesus came out into the sunlight, took two hesitating steps, stumbled, and stopped, his eyes glued to the prophet. His whole soul had become a gaze which explored the prophet, ran over his reed-like legs and up to his fiery head and then still higher, to the full invisible stature. The Baptist’s back was turned. He felt the vehement stare ransacking his entire body, grew angry, swung completely around and half closed his two round, hawk-like eyes in order to see better. Who was this silent, motionless young man dressed all in white and staring at him? Somewhere, sometime, he had seen him. Where? When? He struggled in agony to remember. Could it have been in a dream? He often dreamed about men dressed similarly all in white. They never talked to him but simply stared and waved their hands as if greeting him or saying goodbye. Then the cock of the dawn would crow and they would turn into light and disappear.
Suddenly the Baptist, still looking at him, cried out. He remembered: one day at exactly noon he had lain down on the bank of the river and taken out the Prophet Isaiah, written on a goatskin. All at once stones, water, people, reeds and river vanished; the air filled with fires, trumpets and wings, the words of the prophet opened like doors, and the Messiah stepped forth. He remembered that he was dressed all in white, thin, gnawed by the sun, barefooted and, like this man, he held a green leaf between his teeth!
The ascetic’s eyes filled with joy and fear. He tumbled down from his rock and approached, stretching forth his gnarled neck.
“Who are you? Who?” he asked, his terrible voice trembling.
“Don’t you know me?” said Jesus, advancing one more step. His own voice was trembling: he knew that his fate depended on the Baptist’s reply.
It’s him, him, the Baptist was thinking. His heart thumped furiously and he could not, dared not, decide. Once more he stretched forward his neck: “Who are you?” he asked again.
“Haven’t you read the Scriptures?” Jesus answered in a voice sweet yet complaining, as though he were scolding him. “Haven’t you read the prophets?
What does Isaiah say? Forerunner, don’t you remember?”
“Is it you, you?” whispered the ascetic. He put his hands on Jesus’ shoulders and examined his eyes.
“I have come ...” Jesus said hesitatingly, then stopped, unable to breathe, unable to continue. It was as if he were putting forth his foot and searching to see whether or not he could take a further step without falling down.
The savage prophet leaned on top of him and examined him silently. He wondered if he had ever heard the wonderful, terrifying words which had escaped Jesus’ lips.
“I have come ...” the son of Mary repeated, so softly that not even Judas, who was on the alert behind them with cocked ear, could hear. This time the prophet gave a start. He had understood.
“What?” he said, and the hairs of his head stood on end.
A crow passed over them and uttered a hoarse cry like that of a drowning man who was mocking something, or laughing. The Baptist became angry. He bent over to pick up a stone to throw at the bird. The crow had flown away, but he continued to look for it, rejoicing in the passage of time—for in this way his mind gradually grew calm. ... Rising, he said tranquilly, “Welcome.” He looked at him, but there was no love in his eyes.
Jesus’ heart shook. Were his ears jangling or was it true that the prophet had bid him welcome? If true, how astonishing, how joyful, how frightening!
The Baptist glanced around him, swept his eyes over the river Jordan, the reeds, and the people who, kneeling in the mud, were openly confessing their sins. He hurriedly embraced his kingdom and bid it farewell. Then he turned to Jesus. “Now I can depart.”
“Not yet, Forerunner. First you must baptize me.” Jesus’ voice had become sure, decisive.
“I? You are the one who must baptize me, Lord.”
“Don’t talk so loud. They might hear us. My hour has not yet come. Let us go!”
Judas was straining his ears to hear, but he made out only a murmur, a joyous, dancing murmur as though from the union of two streams of running water.
The crowd which had assembled on the shore made way. Who was this pilgrim who, having thrown off his white robe, was clothed in sunlight? Who was this man who, without confessing his sins, entered the water with such nobility and assurance?
The Baptist in the lead, they both thrust their way into the blue stream. The Baptist climbed onto a rock which jutted out above the face of the water. Jesus stood next to him on the sandy river bed, the water embracing his body up to the chin.
The moment the Baptist lifted his hand to pour water over Jesus’ face and to pronounce the blessing, the people cried out. The flow of the Jordan had abruptly ceased. Schools of multicolored fish floated up from every direction, circled Jesus and began to dance, folding and unfolding their fins and shaking their tails, and a shaggy elf in the form of a simple old man entwined with seaweed rose up from the bottom of the river, leaned against the reeds, and with mouth agape and eyes popping from joy and fear, stared at all that was going on in front of him.
The people, viewing such wonders, were stricken dumb. Many fell face down on the shore to hide their eyes. Others shivered in the violent heat. One, seeing the old man emerge from the deep all covered with mud, shouted, “The Spirit of the Jordan!” and fainted.
The Baptist filled a deep shell and with trembling hand began to pour water over Jesus’ face. “The servant of God is baptized ...” he began. But he stopped: he did not know what name to give.
He turned to ask Jesus; but just as everyone, stretched on tiptoe, expected to hear the name, wings were heard to descend from the heavens and a white-feathered bird—was it a bird, or one of Jehovah’s Seraphim?—darted forward and balanced itself on the head of the baptized. It remained motionless for several moments, then suddenly circled three times above him. Three wreaths of light glowed in the air and the bird uttered a cry as though proclaiming a hidden name, a name never heard before. The heavens seemed to be answering the Baptist’s mute question.
The people’s ears buzzed, their minds reeled. There were words together with the beating of wings. The voice of God? The voice of the bird? It was a strange miracle. ... Jesus tensed his whole body, trying to hear. He had a presentiment that here was his true name, but he could not distinguish what it was. All he heard weremany waves breaking within him, many wings, and great, bitter words. He raised his eyes. The bird had already bounded toward the summit of the heavens and become light within the light.
The Baptist, whose years in the desert and in cruel solitude had enabled him to master the language of God, was the only one who understood. Today is baptized, he whispered to himself, trembling, the servant of God, the son of God, the Hope of mankind!
He signaled the waters of the Jordan to resume their flow. The sacrament was over.

The Last Temptation of Christ
- Nikos Kazantzakis

...

2012-01-06T15:09:00.003+02:00

we are eternal
all this pain is an illusion

записки

2012-01-06T13:52:00.002+02:00

- Искам да си татуирам знака на безкрайността някъде.
- Къде?
- Ами, някъде, където аз да го виждам, а другите - не.
- От вътрешната страна на клепачите?

***

питаш ли ме кво ми е
ти поне срещаш хора
а аз разбирам, че съм глупав
сам

***

Д.: по-страшно няма да стане. само същото. но там вече колко има да си дълбаеш. и после какъв ефект ще има на нормалния ти живот, не се знае.
Я.: оня нормален живот, дето викаше, че не бил истински? :)
Д.: [огромна усмивка]

***

Аз съм отговорът на въпроса.

Lethe

2012-01-05T17:29:00.001+02:00

All else consumed by a holy cloud of forgetting
Build this man by the way attained
Go forth into the warm waters, brother,
Happy is he, healthy is he among the
pulled out and pulled apart.
He sat with them, but not in vain.
He sat among the ones long-dead,
A feast, a store, a partner, love;
Encourage him in all his ways
To help him to forget the time of disengagement;
Calling power down upon the hour,
Scouring the sea for word and need,
The broken healer, wounded lasts;
Prays the skies to shut the rain and
Makes them shower down again.
A sign that he's there. A friend.
Skilled to these degrees.

FO

2012-01-05T16:30:00.004+02:00

They [my children] are so similar
Only kind of
Meaningless
Devoid of the underground
The foundation of their personalities
Without their individualities

So
Why do I cry? Because of their tear drops falling
That's the psychedelia of the mind that reels and strikes down
The size of someone else's ego spilling so much
And it's sooo much energy flowing from this
That I am losing myself
In
Everything that urges me
In
Everything that urges me

H2O

2012-01-05T15:40:00.005+02:00

Kripke argued in Naming and Necessity, a name does not secure its reference via any process of description fitting. Rather, a name determines its reference via a historical-causal link tracing back to the process of naming. And thus, Kripke thinks that name does not have sense, or, at least, does not have sense which is rich enough to play the reference-determining role. Moreover, name, in Kripke's view, is a rigid designator, which refers to the same object in all possible worlds. Following this line of thought, Kripke suggests that all the scientific identity statement like "Water is H2O" is also a necessary statement, i.e. true in all possible worlds. Kripke thinks that this is a phenomenon that the descriptivist cannot explain.
And, as also proposed by Hilary Putnam and Kripke himself, Kripke's view on name can also be applied to the reference of natural kind term. The kind of theory of reference that is advocated by Kripke and Putnam is called the direct reference theory.
However, Chalmers disagrees with Kripke, and all the direct reference theorists in general. He thinks that there are two kinds of intension of a natural kind term, a stance which is now called two dimensionalism. For example, the words, "Water is H2O" are taken to express two distinct propositions, often referred to as a primary intension and a secondary intension, which together compose its meaning.
The primary intension of a word or sentence is its sense, i.e., is the idea or method by which we find its referent. The primary intension of "water" might be a description, such as watery stuff. The thing picked out by the primary intension of "water" could have been otherwise. For example, on some other world where the inhabitants take "water" to mean watery stuff, but where the chemical make-up of watery stuff is not H2O, it is not the case that water is H2O for that world.
The secondary intension of "water" is whatever thing "water" happens to pick out in this world, whatever that world happens to be. So if we assign "water" the primary intension watery stuff then the secondary intension of "water" is H2O, since H2O is watery stuff in this world. The secondary intension of "water" in our world is H2O, and is H2O in every world because unlike watery stuff it is impossible for H2O to be other than H2O. When considered according to its secondary intension, water means H2O in every world. Via this secondary intension, Chalmers proposes a way to explain the necessity of the identity statement on one hand, and reserve the role of intension/sense in determining the reference, in the other hand.

2012-01-05T15:20:00.003+02:00

Oooh
Can you hear me now?
Can you hear me now?
Can you hear me now?
Can you hear me now?
Am I coming through?
Am I coming through?
Is this sweet and pure and true?

Devil came by this morning,
Said he had
Something to show me
I was looking like I've never seen a face before
Here we go now, let's slide into the open door

Pictures and things that I've done before
Circling around me,
Out here on the floor
I'm dreaming this and I'm dreaming that
Regretting nothing
Think about that

I'm seeing waves breaking form to my horizon
Yeah I'm shining
I'm seeing waves breaking form to my horizon
Lord, I'm shining

Are you hearing me?
Like I'm hearing you?
Are you hearing me?
Like I'm hearing you?

You know I almost lost my mind
I can't explain
Where I've been
You know I almost lost my mind
I can't explain
Where I've been
You know I almost lost my mind
I couldn't explain
What I've seen

but now i think i see the light

lend me your hand
lend me your hand
lend me your hand

I'm seeing waves breaking forms to my horizon
Yeah I'm shining
I'm seeing waves breaking forms to my horizon, lord
I'm shining yeah
Are you hearing me?
Like I'm hearing you?
Are you hearing me?
Like I'm hearing you?

I'm happy now i'm too late
To find that the images are fading away

You know I almost lost my mind
I can't explain
Where I've been
You know I almost lost my mind
I couldn't explain
The things I've seen
But now I think I see the light
Now I think I see the light

Lend me your hand
Lend me your hand

I'm seeing waves breaking form to my horizon
Yeah I'm shining
I'm seeing waves breaking form to my horizon, lord
I'm shining

You know I almost lost my mind
But now I'm home, and I'm free

Did I pass the acid test?

You'd better go to bed now

Did i pass the acid test?
Did I pass the acid test?

antiphon

2012-01-05T15:05:00.004+02:00

An antiphon (Greek ἀντίφωνον, ἀντί "opposite" + φωνή "voice") in Christian music and ritual, is a "responsory" by a choir or congregation, usually in Gregorian chant, to a psalm or other text in a religious service or musical work.
This gives rise to the general term 'antiphony', which may be used for any call and response style of singing such as the kirtan and the sea shanty. Particularly, any piece of music performed by two semi-independent choirs in interaction, often singing alternate musical phrases, is known as 'antiphonal'. Antiphonal psalmody is the singing or musical playing of psalms by alternating groups of performers.

now

2012-01-05T13:23:00.001+02:00

виждам хиляди неща. ХИЛЯДИ. виждам снежинки, прашинки, лъчи. oрнаменти. спирали. и ми се повръща. не ми се яде. сутринта се събудих. и първата мисъл беше: КОЛКО ми е добре. обичам те, мая. толкова красиви имена имаме. теодора и мая. не искам да спра да виждам. но какво искам и какво не ще се смени много пъти. peace.

the truth

2012-01-05T12:15:00.004+02:00

Without Contraries is no progression. Attraction and Repulsion, Reason and Energy, Love and Hate, are necessary to Human existence.
From these contraries spring what the religious call Good & Evil. Good is the passive that obeys Reason. Evil is the active springing from Energy.

1. Man has no Body distinct from his Soul for that call'd Body is a portion of Soul discern'd by the five Senses, the chief inlets of Soul in this age
2. Energy is the only life and is from the Body and Reason is the bound or outward circumference of Energy.
3 Energy is Eternal Delight.

- Blake

записки

2012-01-05T11:54:00.003+02:00

1. Какво са въпросите и отговорите? Пак разходка по символа на безкрайността. И какво се ражда от тях - опозициите, които в един миг се свързват? В точката на сливане се ражда абстракцията - СМИСЪЛА, яснотата.

2. Какво е Е-то? Думите сочат към предмет. Вoдата Е H2O. Е-то е стрелка. Какво е стрелката? Вектор, вълна. Същото като мисълта, като светлината, като това, от което сме направени. Т.е. ние сме вълни, ние сме светлина и съществуване.

∞

2012-01-05T09:46:00.002+02:00

TO SWING ON THE SPIRAL OF OUR DIVINITY AND STILL BE A HUMAN.

choirs of the eye

2012-01-04T23:14:00.004+02:00

"Were the eye not sunny,
It could never behold the sun;
If the power of the mind were not in matter,
How could matter disturb the mind." - goethe

гита

2012-01-04T14:04:00.001+02:00

it's time now
my time now
give me my
give me my
wings

всеки си има своя гита. моята гита е tool.

2012-01-04T04:34:00.009+02:00

любовта е страх
тъмното е светло
топлото е студено
вчера е утре
жената е мъж
животът е смърт
аз съм ти
а всъщост сме е-то.

и негативтното не е негативно!

Saint, n. A dead sinner revised and edited.

Marshal Villeroi, who in his youth had known St. Francis de Sales, said, on hearing him called saint: 'I am delighted to hear that Monsieur de Sales is a saint. He was fond of saying indelicate things, and used to cheat at cards. In other respects he was a perfect gentleman, though a fool.' [Ambrose Bierce, "Devil's Dictionary," 1911]

Светецът е прокълнат да е свързан. Със светлината.

И какво е първото нещо, което иска ангелът, като стане човек? Кафе.

When we first came here,
We were cold and we were clear,
With no colours on our skin,
We were light and paper-thin.

And when we first came here,
We were cold and we were clear,
With no colours on our skin,
'Till you let the spectrum in.

Say my name,
And every colour illuminates,
We are shining,
And we'll never be afraid again.

Say my name!
As every colour illuminates!
We are shining!
And we'll never be afraid again!
Say my name!
As every colour illuminates!
We are shining!
And we'll never be afraid again!

And when we come for you,
We'll be dressed up all in blue,
With the ocean in our arms,
Kissing eyes and kissing palms.

And when it's time to pray,
We'll be dressed up all in grey,
With metal on our tongues,
And silver in our lungs.

Say my name!
As every colour illuminates!
We are shining!
And we'll never be afraid again!

And when we come back we'll be dressed in black!
And you'll scream our names aloud!
And we won't eat and we won't sleep!
We'll drag bodies from their graves!

2012-01-04T03:03:00.003+02:00

Какъв ти тук Бог? Това не е Бог, това е реалността.

2012-01-04T02:46:00.003+02:00

защо са им аватарите?

лоша работа

2012-01-04T01:48:00.006+02:00

Обичам
те
е
грешно
но
грешката
е
вярна
всички
грехове
са
опростени
и
какво виждаш
сега разбираш
защо трябва да се пише
защо трябва да се твори
защо не трябва да се пише
защо не трябва да се твори
сега разбираш
какво виждаш
змия
захапала
опашката си
и теодора
разплакана
рисуваща отчаяно
безкрайности
по пода
които пробиват пода
минават през музиката
и се връщат в обичам те
обичам те, мамо

но човек се пита дали не трябва... да не смущава съня на другите.

2012-01-03T22:19:00.004+02:00

Отчаяното желание да споделиш собствената си халюцинация със света.................

2012-01-03T13:04:00.002+02:00

няма кон, на който да можеш да избягаш от себе си

:)

2012-01-03T09:34:00.001+02:00

As full and bright as I am
This light is not my own and
A million light reflections pass over me

Its source is bright and endless
She resuscitates the hopeless
Without her, we are lifeless satellites drifting

between times

2012-01-03T04:03:00.000+02:00

Listen, my love;
Sometimes I've never known silence of this kind
The silence of stars
Higher than we've ever flown
Carry me over between times.
In your red room on quilted blankets
Laying awake in the low light.
Nothing, I know, can ever be more than now
Gather me up here, between times.

Say for me now that you mean to wait for me
Say for me now that you'll still be here tomorrow.

But all time is now, and time can do nothing else
Awaken your body beneath mine.
I may get it wrong
And maybe I'll get it right
Warm and unclose me between times.

And all that I have is all that I've ever known
Carry me over
Between times
Between times.

самсара

2012-01-03T03:16:00.009+02:00

Наежва се и се разперва като глухарче, чиито пухчета при вглеждане са остри като стъкло и бодат отвътре. Растат бавно, докато не се разпръснат с изящен замах навън. Пробиват си път през кожата, на забавен кадър, покрити с тъмни капки кръв. Боли. Да, боли. Всичко е кристално ясно и нищо не е наред. Искам да ги изплюя, всички глухарчета, но те се загнездват в гърдите ми и си палят огньове. Няма дъжд, който да ги изгаси, няма сняг, който да ги стопи. Колкото и да плача, колкото и да се въртя с разперени ръце в дъжда, колкото и да спя, те са там, тлеят, разплават се, пробиват дупки в листа. Дупки в езика, дупки в дупките. Дупки от вчера и утре в това, което е. Губя се в тях, плувам в алисините реки, но глухарчетата продължават да танцуват около огньовете, да ги поглъщат и да се разперват в мен с тлеещи върхове. Няма музика, която да ги утоли, няма приятел, който да ги утеши. Знам. Знам, че ги няма, но те са там. Опитвам се да ги унищожа чрез гледане, но те са невидими. Само осезаеми. Може би... Може би трябва да им позволя да ме оголят отвътре, да ме изгорят като роклята на Медея, за да стана на факла. На танцуваща звезда. На хаос преди хаоса. Думи, думи, думи... как беше, те са всичко, което имам, а борбата е загубена, когато имаш само тях, за да опишеш нетях. Странно как празното ядро е пълно с Меланхолия - синя и неподвижна... само за малко. Там, където животът и смъртта са опозиции без да застрашават душата, защото тя е неизгасима като снега и нетопима като огъня. Където "две" е точно толкова безсмъртно колкото единството, което съставя Простотата на числата. Но ако "две" е душата, кое е единството? Кое е Простотата? Истината е най-простото нещо, което не може да се редуцира повече. Едно. Малкатa монада - the loneliest number. Да, мили ми атинянино, душата е обратното на единството (или обратно), но едно не може да дойде при две, така че няма как Мъдростта да дойде при човека. Там се ходи само с колесницата, там се ходи само на крилете на идеите, които се разпадат при човешки допир. Няма как да видиш изгасналия огън, няма как да потопиш крака в Нищото, без да се разпаднеш. Или крилете, или ти. И тъй като продължава да боли, очевидно се държиш за "ти". Лунните лъчи, по които ходиш тихо с вярно куче до себе си, са достъпни само за Идиота, светлината не е за теб. За теб - само покой. Мир с глухарчетата. Мир с Империята на стъклените бодли. Мир с Алисините реки. Мир с танцуващите супернови. С желанието да бъдеш свръх. Без този мир отразената светлина става от лъчи на ореол, който се плъзга надолу, за да те удуши. Краят на знанието е просто стъпка по тротоара, не по-различна от прескачането на фуга между плочките. Но когато започнеш да прескачаш фуги, за да стигнеш края на знанието, си в плен на екзистенциалния комунизъм. Shоо shоо little Tollies! Самсара до края на света, няма да избягаш, колкото и да скачаш извън спиралата. Тя е навсякъде, тя е вплетена във въздуха с конци от звезден прах и ДНК, които вдишваме, които кашляме, които изплюваме при неочакван удар в стомаха. Тъмносиня неделна болка в стомаха. Ударът винаги идва отвътре, но не оставя следи като краче по гладката повърхност на майчин корем. Лек е като шепот и боли като страха от амниоцентеза. Какво да я правя цялата тази тишина? Ще си я инжектирам и ще гледам как се движи в ектоплазмата, как се вие под кожата ми като червей, как стига до глухарчетата, които пищят без глас. Как се спуска като проклятие над тях и ги стрива на хиляди стъклени трески. Имплозия на всичко телесно, която сънувам, че сънувам. Стъкълцата поникват в червените полета. Мая се завърта в обратната посока и горящият кръг става на антифон - тих дъжд, който обладава прозореца, за да го превърне в най-красивото пеещо стъкло, което познава. Но чупливата планета продължава да изпълва ласото и не е ясно дали това е тъжно, вцепеняващо или вълнуващо. Само че в моя сън тя не идва. Тя е в капана на вечното завръщане към едни и същи конфликти, които създават едни и същи драми. Малка смърт всеки път е по-добре от разпване на глухарчето. Можеш ли да кажеш не на живота? Дори и да знаеш, че Самсара е безкраен огнен кръг, който се върти и върти... можеш ли да кажеш "Не"? Да спреш кръга и да слезеш. Да го оставиш да се върти сам. Дали въобще ще се върти без теб? Дали ще продължи да диша в птици, морета, деца и планети? Как да слезеш, като знаеш, че без теб ще угаснат? Дори да има десетки твои копия, пишещи същите думи на същата музика в същия момент. Слизането... е в момента, в който спреш да пишеш.

prayer

2012-01-03T00:52:00.001+02:00

I must crucify the ego before it's far too late
I pray the light lifts me out
Before I pine away.

---

This song relates to the psychological interpretation that every human has ideal materialistic desires that has to fill the void. This specific song conquers the barrier of the psyche when we will finally give up everything to not gain anything at all, but instead acknowledge the benefits of how to appreciate. The Ego regularly has a behavioral appearance of jealousy and guilt built behind the subconsciousness. We must first learn to cope with loss and reassemble our psyche to fit our desires.

Душите са обладани от ангели

2012-01-02T23:31:00.002+02:00

(Агонио сладка)

Тази година се очертава лоша
(по-лоша от предишната)
за бездомните бесове.

"Една душа, една душа,
най-неуютната даже душа...
Нека бъде душата на поет,
нека бъде душа на свиня...
Нека не бъде цяла душа,
нека е само ъгълче от душа."

Няма.

Сля се зимата с пролетта.
Гинат бездомните бесове.

- Константин Павлов

high on life

2012-01-02T18:44:00.003+02:00

Mass in B minor BWV 232: XXII. Sanctus: Sanctus by Johann Sebastian Bach on Grooveshark

Sanctus by John Eliot Gardiner: English Baroque Soloists, Monteverdi Choir on Grooveshark

f*cking brilliant!

2012-01-02T16:19:00.001+02:00

Sarah labors under the same misconception everyone does. She believes, in the broadest sense, that something is wrong and that she can make it right. What that something is, what’s wrong with it, and how it can be fixed all differ from person to person, but the general pattern is always the same: The truth, though, is that nothing is really wrong. Nothing is ever wrong and nothing can be wrong. It’s not even wrong to believe that something is wrong. Wrong is simply not possible. As Alexander Pope wrote, “One truth is clear, whatever is, is right.” Wrongness is in the eye of the beholder and nowhere else.

The perception of wrongness, however, is absolutely critical to the perpetuation of the human drama, right up there with the illusion of separateness and the certainty of free will. Drama requires conflict; no conflict, no drama. If something isn’t wrong, then nothing needs to be made right, which would mean that nothing needs to be done. Heights need not be scaled nor depths plumbed. Wealth and power need not be acquired. Future generations need not be spawned. Art need not be created, nor skyscrapers erected. Wars need not be fought. Religions and philosophies need not be devised. Teeth need not be flossed.

“The belief that something is wrong is the fire under the ass of humanity,” is how I explain it to Sarah.

Of course, wrongness isn’t entirely imagined. A certain amount of rightness and wrongness is hardwired into the human machine. Hunger is wrong, eating is right; celibacy is wrong, seed-sowing is right; pain is wrong, pleasure is right, and so on. But those are all biological directives, enforceable only within the context of the physical organism, violations resulting in progressively worsening discomfort and possibly death.

Where, then, does wrongness reside outside of our physical organism? And the obvious answer is; nowhere. But if this whole existence thing is to have any dramatic element to keep it interesting, it needs conflict, and so an artificial wrongness must be inserted into the mix: Fear.

Fear of the hollow core. Fear of the black hole within. Fear of non-being.

Fear of no-self.

The fear of no-self is the mother of all fears, the one upon which all others are based. No fear is so small or petty that the fear of no-self isn’t at its heart. All fear is ultimately fear of no-self.

“And what is enlightenment,” I ask Sarah, “but a swan dive into the abyss of no-self?”

She doesn’t answer.

Fear, regardless of what face it wears, is the engine that drives humans as individuals and humanity as a species. Simply put, humans are fear-based creatures. It may be tempting to say that we are equal parts rational and emotional, balanced between left and right brain, but it’s not true. We are primarily emotional and our ruling emotion is fear.

“Fun, huh?” I ask Sarah, who’s looking a bit woozy by this point.

Spiritual Enlightenment: The Damnedest Thing
By Jed McKenna

:)

2012-01-02T10:56:00.002+02:00

Constant overstimulation numbs me
but I would not want
You any other way.

ангелите са в отпуска

2012-01-01T18:54:00.006+02:00

Ангелите в софийските трамваи са в отпуска. Празни погледи, в които отдавна не дебне спасение. Дядо с Моисеева брада, огромни ръкавици за електрожен (така трябва да е изглеждала дядовата ръкавичка), качулка, която не топли (защо все я намества?), чанта от стара дамаска (би отивала на някой хипстър), панталони на едри кръпки с бял конец (най-големите бодове, които съм виждала) и толкова кални обувки (трябва да има градина). Държи ръцете си прегърнати, както когато умираш от студ, бърка си в очите с работническите ръкавици. Може да ти каже истината за всичко, но знае, че няма смисъл.
Зад него друг дядо - като излязал от Елинпелинов разказ - с кожух и калпак: "Ааайде, да се приготвяме... да слизаме."
Писателят трябва да обича своите герои. А може би ние сме техните ангели?

Новогодишно (A.)

2012-01-01T11:52:00.000+02:00

Новогодишно - A.

очарованието ми не е от твоите черти
чертите ти не забелязвам
но само щом захапя твоите черти
чертите на света изтривам

както хубавата музика захапва
и прехапвам свойта плът за да се слеем
така захапвайки те бих се слял със теб
и от рамото ни музика ще свири

заплетени в едно ще знаем
отговора на въпроса вечен
как се утолява жаждата когато
музиката и любовта не стигат -

хапеш още

Годината на думите

2011-12-31T23:37:00.003+02:00

(Вдъхновено от М.)

Първият час на 2011 започна с “Обичам те”.
От другата страна на океана.
(От нули и единици.)
Едно измислено “Обичам те”, родено от страхове и липси, което постепенно стана истинско. Толкова истинско, че само няколко минути разговор бяха равни на часове foreplay. Защото “на Теодора й става от думи”.

Да, 2011 е годината на думите. И на щастието от думите. На радостта от ексхибиционизма, когато изнасилваш езика пред някого и това му харесва. (И даже го разбира.)

Това е годината, в която се разбрахме да се разбираме. В която се заливахме с ведра символна кръв и се къпахме голи в банята… в синьо! (Ей, много скъпа тая синя боя, бе!)

Годината, в която се катерихме по ядосани планини и се питахме как може да не се обичаме, като се обичаме. Годината на пликчетата в мокрите обувки.

Годината на споделената несподеленост. На несподелената споделеност. На несиметричните и симетричните намерения. На чистите и криминалните намерения.

Годината, в която си намерих място в поне пет сърца. В която видях ръце с очи, меланхолични нишки, мокро суши, алтернативни онлайн светове с наши виртуални
двойници, ярки глупости, джинджифилени човечета в пазарски колички и чш, чш, чш! Годината, в която непознати хора ме държаха да не излетя като балон, докато плача през смях 4 часа. Годината на тези хора, които обикнах до горест.

Годината, в която намерих своя ангел. Който е човек от плът и кръв, но просто е решил да живее без вина. (И да обича страха.)

Годината, в която разбрах, че има нещо свръхестествено в онези, който обичат същия пол (не че не си го знаех).

Годината на секс без любов, секс без секс, секс с полулюбов, любов без секс и нужда да запълниш черната дупка с нещо, нещо, нещо…

Годината на Нут И Лу, в която четеш стихове в лицето на някого, но не отговаряш на смс-и и мейли.

Годината на сезонното разомагьосване и омагьосване. Вълшебните нощи отново са вълшебни, но без цялото това напрежение. Годината на цикличната депресия между приятели, която съвпада като цикъл при съквартирантки. На безмерната обич – губенето в прегръдки, целувките по бузите, среднощните разходки за пица и бульоните, когато имаш температура.

Годината, в която ИМА кой да ти донесе хляб, когато си болен. Годината на пърформанса! Halt mal, Negro! Krebspolizei! Годината на гротескните списъци и пиянските изцепки, когато си убеден, че не си пиян.

Годината на насилственото доверие. Годината, в която трябваше да интервюирам целия свят. Годината на Сократ, в която въпросите са много по-важни от отговорите.

Годината на тениските. На кашата и картончетата в коледни картички. На свиренето на китара с тракане на клавиатура за фон. На държането за ръце по тениска на Pagan Poetry.

Годината, в която за пръв път намерих Дом, в който детските прегръдки значеха повече от обвиненията в лошо майчинство. В която вярата в себе си беше вяра в детето ми; в която всички луди бяха отцепени в стаята с прожекционния апарат, където мен ме няма. Няма ме!

Годината на “Пази се”, “Не се пази”, “Пази се от пазенето” и “Спри да се пазиш.” Годината на неспрялостта, най-гнусното унижение, гаврата с емпатията и счупването на жалкометъра.

Годината на добрата литература и сексуалното удивoлствие от нея. Годината на вдъхновените лийдове и заглавията, които намигат точно на трима души.

Годината на ОБЕДНАТА РАЗГОВОРКА! На общите чатове и възможността да си говориш с някого в 4 различни прозореца. На меча и лъскането гол, на изчервяването и смеенето в шепа, на изолацията чрез слушалки и на преченето, за Бога, преченето! Годината на Баба М и Ф, на недоклатените скумрии и лелките на 25. На ФИБИ и дъха на бъчва. На Банана и Точака! На сандвичите с домат и кашкавал (или с яйце и сирене!). На кафето сутрин пред електрическото табло. На закъснението! Годината, в която обикнах Пино, без да съм пила Пино.

Годината на Starbucks! И на приятелството с хора, по-свежи от Tall Mocha Frappuccino.

Годината на Facebook и на споделянето на неща, от които си мислим, че сме направени. На откриването на музиката в секса и на секса в музиката. Триене трябва да има, при ambient-a просто шибаш въздуха!

Годината на Opeth и Мastodon и религиозното шейсетарско събиране да чуеш някой албум за пръв път. Годината на тоновете новооткрита чрез тях музика. Годината на ASIWYFA и FLORENCE! Годината, в която лириките отново имат жизненоважно значение. В която се будиш с песни в главата. В която животът на улицата без слушалки е агония.

Годината на сърцата, които се ронят като пъзел. (И все пак последното зрънце си намира мида, в която да се увие в спален чувал от черна слюда.) Годината на истеричното пеене на глас по улицата и свалките след секс.

Годината на самотата и сприятеляването с нея. На безплодното усилие да обичаш без нужда и порок. На пропуснатите пътешествия на стоп. На post-rock-a!

На тениските пред The Box и вдъхновението в него. На стъклените топчета, които 4 реда хора поглъщат. И които после Зу едвам чете.

Годината на страха. На страха от страха. На полууспешните опити да приемем телата си и себе си такива, каквито сме. На вражеското отбранение на правото да бъдем себе си.

На плача в берлинското метро, на върха на Berliner Dom, на вглеждането в лица на Unter den Linden, на Вим Вендерс и на тихото благоговение пред HU. Fucking HU! Четири години го гледах това HU в мейла ти и ти не пожела, просто не пожела… Годината, в която любовта е зад бодлива тел. Зад страха от любов, страха от загуба, страха от разочарование, страха да те видят такъв какъвто си. Телта на невярата. Годината на искащите да вярват.

als das kind kind war...
(c) Aurica Voss

н

2011-12-31T11:26:00.001+02:00

д: според мен тук става дума за секс.
н: ахаа, ти пак се опитваш да разбереш какво е искал да каже авторът. нали знаеш какво ни набиваха в главите в училище: той каквото е имал да каже, го е казал!
д: "умрях в теб, с всяка нова смърт, с всеки дъх, който поемах за теб." това е секс - кой е моментът, в който умираш в някого?
н: моментът, в който умираш в някого... е моментът, в който умираш в някого.

две и единайсета (мáртин)

2011-12-31T09:59:00.000+02:00

две и единайсета

беше двайсет и втората ми година
беше кофти, но беше и кеф ти
беше доказателство, че адел е права: the people i’ve met are the wonders of my world
беше брутална
беше размествания и пренасяния, и дом след дом

беше бири
беше издаването на втора книга в моето семейство

беше раздяла с поредната скучна образователна институция
беше опит за съвместно съжителство и за съжителство
беше много театър и още повече ър
беше един от най-интересните, драматични и забавни сезони засега
беше сфуматовски септември
беше много други неща, случки, хора и моменти, които не помня

беше софия, бургас, стара загора, на село.. хм, май не съм пътувал особено
беше година, в която писах и бях влюбен. и това е достатъчно.

м.

a stranger

2011-12-28T19:52:00.003+02:00

Cast the calming apple
Up and over satellites
To draw out the timid wild one
To convince you it's all right

And I listen for the whisper
Of your sweet insanity
While I formulate denials
Of your effect on me

You're a stranger
So what do I care?
You vanish today
Not the first time I hear
All the lies

What am I to do with all this silence?

Shy away, shy away phantom
Run away, terrified child
Won't you move away
Fuckin' tornado
I'm better off without you
Tearin' my will down

careful, careful...

2011-12-28T18:33:00.001+02:00

How so carelessly, we twist and turn the perfect dream
No promises made
The source of the pain, day after day
But remember I told you to be careful
No promises made
It wont ever stop no, no promises made
I died in you - Crossed the line for you
With each new death
With every breath I took for you
What I wouldn't do

всичко (дори солипсизмът) е за добро

2011-12-28T02:31:00.000+02:00

Then I heard someone reading out of a book of Anaxagoras, as he told us, and saying that Mind was the disposer and cause of all: and I was delighted with this notion of the (first) cause,—indeed it gave me a sort of comfort to think that Mind was the cause of all things, and I said to myself, If this be so,—if Mind is the orderer, it will have all in order, and put every single thing in the place that is best for it. And I argued that if anyone desired to find out the cause of the generation or existence of anything, he must find out what state of being or doing or suffering was best for that thing, and therefore a man had only to consider the best for himself and others and then he would also know the worse, since the same science comprehended both.
- Plato

Хвърчащите хора - Валери Петров

2011-12-21T23:10:00.000+02:00

Те не идат от Космоса, те родени са тук,
но сърцата им просто са по-кристални от звук,
и виж, ето ги - литват над балкони с пране,
над калта, над сгурията в двора
и добре, че се срещат единици поне
от рода на хвърчащите хора.
А ний бутаме някакси и жени ни влекат,
а ний пием коняка си в битов някакъв кът
и говорим за глупости, важно вирейки нос
или с израз на мъдра умора
и изобщо - стараем се да не става въпрос
за рода на хвърчащите хора.
И е верно, че те не са от реалния свят,
не се срещат на тениса, нямат собствен 'Фиат'.
Но защо ли тогава нещо тук ни боли,
щом ги видим да литват в простора -
да не би да ни спомнят, че и ний сме били
от рода на хвърчащите хора?

Florence - Bedroom Hymns

2011-12-20T01:20:00.018+02:00

Все тая тук ли ще падна или там
Ще построим олтара си тук
Направи ме своята Мария
Вече съм на колене

Исус на върха на дъха ти
Вдишах Го с моя
Изплюти признания
Недовършено, божествено

Това е плътта Му, това - любовта Му
Какви користни молитви и няма насита

Да, няма насита

Разлети остри сълзи, за теб го направих
Разлети на път към олтара, черно и синьо
Най-сладка покорност, отпивам от теб
Виното, жените и спалните химни

Това е плътта Му, това - любовта Му
Какви користни молитви и няма насита

Не съм тук за опрощение
Намерих си старо решение
Не съм тук за опрощение
Намерих си старо решение

Това е плътта Му, това - любовта Му
Какви користни молитви и няма насита

Няма насита.
Няма насита.
Няма насита.

поезия и не-поезия (кох)

2011-12-20T00:57:00.002+02:00

Две и две четири.

е не-поезия.

Поезия е

Две и две
са по-скоро синьо.

- Кенет Кох