Thursday, April 19, 2012

Time was my playground


When i was a kid, on my way to school, i always pictured myself walking through a deep forest. The buildings weren't actually buildings... They were high oak trees, where the wind whistled through their complex branches, almost like calling my name in a very unique sound. 
It took me like 15 to 20 minutes to get into school, but for me, the time would actually stop. I wasn't there. A body perhaps, knowing it's way like in an automatic control... but the "ME" wasn't there. It was in that forest. 


I liked to play alone. It wouldn't bother me. I wasn't a lonely child, i just appreciated the solitude of the day. Actually i was always in company of imaginary friends. Yes... i had a bunch of those. They would grab my hand and lead me to that deep forest. I wasn't afraid. I was at home. We would talk and talk, and it seamed to me we talked for hours. In reality it only took that 15/20 minutes... but time for me didn't had the same dimension that it has now in my day-life... time wasn't real. I wasn't slave of it. I would play with Time like it was a playground. 

- Me


Tolstoy to his fiancée


November 2, 1856

"I already love in you your beauty, but I am only beginning to love in you that which is eternal and ever precious - your heart, your soul. Beauty one could get to know and fall in love with in one hour and cease to love it as speedily; but the soul one must learn to know. Believe me, nothing on earth is given without labour, even love, the most beautiful and natural of feelings."

- Count Leo Tolstoy, Russian writer, to Valeria Arsenev, his fiancée. 

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Artavazd Pelechian - Inhabitants 1970


A Masterpiece from the director Artavazd Pelechian. This documentary is more than just a movie... it's a statement! It's so profound it's meaning that i don't have actually words to describe what i feel while watching it... It's darkly beautiful!


Saturday, March 24, 2012

I Have A Rendezvous With Death


I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air—
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.
 
 
It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath—
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.


God knows 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where Love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear...
But I've a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous. 
 
- Alan Seeger