"memories of long warm summers"

A fresh new set of dreamy soundscapes straight from the mind and soul of Kris Derry. Well done…again :)

 VermillionGaze — Neon Summer

Wishful relativity

The other day at my favorite café: one of the waiters said in a hushed voice “You know what? I got married a week ago” while his face was radiant with pride and joy. “Oh, congratulations!” I exclaimed both in shock and disbelief. Married? But he’s just a kid! What people do with their lives is their business alone and no one else’s but to me that boy looks barely old enough to be in love let alone j ump into marriage. When my friend came I passed the news to her and she wasn’t that surprised. “That boy, as you call him, is probably almost 30.” “No, it can not be! Look at his face-he’s like a child!” So we asked and indeed the guy turned to be 28. “Do the math,” my friend said “we first came here more  than a decade ago, and he was already here.” Really? I mean, really?! Over 10 years now? How come I have no awareness of all that time? I can’t even remember what I was like 10 years ago. The same as today I guess-minus some wrinkles and plus some hope and illusions. Now I am if not happier (which I am not) then at least less easily shaken. I guess breaking the watch doesn’t stop time from running.

Give-and-take

To be a human is to be weak.

When we are weak, we are small; when we forgive other people’s weakness, we are grand-because it is our own flaws we see in other people that we have to forgive and it takes courage to beat your own ego. Forgiving is tough because it goes against our nature and yet, for that very same reason, it is one of the crucial features defining us as humans.

I’m still working on it.

Reversal

One of my closest friends (now that I think of it I regard all my friends as close-the rest are merely acquaintances) asked if I have ever thought about trying some therapy suggesting it should be looked at more as of a professional opinion providing a different point of view rather than help (yeah, it was very considerate of her to put it that way). I myself have considered that many times but I’ve always found good reasons against it. For starters I could only entrust the matters of my soul only to someone who I’d be certain not make the mess in my mind even worse-and such I take it wouldn’t be easy to find. Second, it will take a lot of talking on my side to paint an accurate picture of my life so far-at least the way it looks through my eyes; and that means a lot of time-really a lot Third and not least, I don’t see how I would even consider squandering the money a quality therapy probably costs when I’d much rather give it for charity. Still it is an entertaining idea-to buy me a new friend. Well, at least the purchase part would be a must.

The truth is I’m simply skeptical on the matter. Even the best therapist can not undo the past so such an experiment can end either with forced acceptance or revolved bitterness-and I already have them both. It isn’t a talk with a stranger that would do the job but a brutally open communication with my parents. Now, for that I’d pay. I don’t have to study psychology to know I can not take on a new path without leaving the old one.

Big-hearted

So I had dinner with the girls the other night at a restaurant situated on a small quiet street and though our table was virtually on the sidewalk that only added a certain Mediterranean charm to the scent of the lime-tree sheltering us and the cheerful international chatter coming from the other tables.

As we sat a woman walking her Yorkshire terrier passed us by and, to my great and unpleasant surprise, one of the girls indiscreetly threw out “Now that’s one funny dog!” To me he wasn’t funny; in my eyes he was lovely-just as any other dog would be. However I didn’t get a chance to word my objection because one of the other girls said there were only two breeds she had respect for: the German Shepherd and the Golden Retriever. “Oh, come on”, I said, “you can’t be serious!”  And there was nothing simulated about my disbelief. Over the years of our friendship I became so comfortably accustomed to her high preferences for clothes, shoes, bags, cars etc rubbish that her snobbery is nothing but an amusement to me now but I didn’t know it stretched onto living creatures as well. “Anyway,” I went on “if I am to have a dog again it would be from a shelter or a stray dog I’d take in from the street but it would definitely be a mongrel.” And no one at our table believed me! WTF?! What is so obscene about bringing love and affection into the life of someone unwanted? Do only the Beautiful Ones deserve happiness? That’s not a question but rather a lengthened sigh of resigned disappointment.  

t’s a mystery to me why dogs are so boundlessly and unconditionally fond of people to the extent of sheer idiocy. Stray dogs especially. If a human should go through half the misery they have to put up with that human would end up times and times more beastly in nature than real beasts. A few days ago I saw two characters outside my office building sleeping on the grass. I’m sure even their mothers wouldn’t find them pretty. It was obvious they hadn’t had a day of wine and roses since birth. And yet they were adorable jovial creatures who seemed ecstatic about me petting them. Those five minutes with them were the happiest time I had for the entire week…even month.

Strained

The work week that just passed-it was overwhelming beyond my strength and I guess I bent. At no other time I have cherished each minute of freedom more than I do today and yet I’m incapable of enjoying it. I have already less than a couple of days left to set up myself straight and go on smiling. But right now I wonder what the point of it all is for that all looks blank from where I stand. Why being a downright human has to be such a burden? I wish someone would bother to explain to me where the moral in that is.

Dark compelling

In a magazine there was an article on the art of loving yourself-because by giving yourself a good care you become more content and thus more willing to spread that content onto less fortunate people; the domino effect that has to start from within etc. Anyway, one of the exercises listed in the article was to think of a childhood hero. “Oh”, I said, “that’s easy-Darth Vader!” (I’m not kidding-that was not only the first but as well the only name on my list.) OK, now step 2: What did you like about that childhood hero? “He’s Darth Vader-do I need to say more?” On to step 3: What did you learn from him/her? “Err, that jet black latex looks deadly cool?”

I first saw Star Wars when I was at the impressionable age of 10. Over the considerable amount of years between then and now my preferences on almost any topic of life (and death for that matter) changed drastically and in some cases-dramatically. But I still stand in awe of the Dark Lord just as my 10-year old version did back then in the dim movie theatre. Once a child-always a child I guess and though that often (way too often) backfires I'm glad I haven't lost that faculty of getting childlike fascinated.

Presidential

Ok, I admit-Abraham Lincoln hunting down vampires sounds even more preposterous than the idea of a nazi camp on the dark side of the Moon (err, on second thought maybe not-very few things can top that; anyway). But the trailer is absolutely stunning and I can only keep my fingers crossed that the movie will be worth at least the half of my anticipations. What can I do-I’m such a sucker for vampire movies and this one looks really promising:

Fairy

One of the things I love the most about fairy tales (besides the happy ending that is always guaranteed…well, almost always) is the feeling of closure. There are no sequels when it comes to fairy tales. Evil gets crushed once and for all; it doesn’t retreat to hide in a secluded place far from everyone’s eyes to accumulate power so it could rise again to come back with a vengeance sometime later. It all ends there and happy times come never to leave again. Sure, that never happens…but I don’t see why that should stop me from dreaming about it. The virtue of truth is in inverse proportion to the harm it does. In other words-truth is often blindly and selfishly overrated.

I just saw “Snow White and the Huntsman” and I’m still thrilled :)

Covered

Oh, that is so great-not to give a damn that is. It’s that “no expectations=no suffering” changeover of mind at work...finally Dullness doesn’t seem that bad of an option right now. I’m no queen anyway so it’s a welcome change to lose the drama as well. I’m sure there will be a price to be paid for those moments of quietness but, as I said, it feels good not to give a damn. And why should I? Worries will come in one form or another anyway-to sadden me, to piss me off or to prove to me I’m still alive. Things never change-only my attitude does. 

Repelled

I will never donate even a nickel to any charity organization raising funds to help humans.

An hour ago the Animal Rescue center posted another urgent plea for money-this time to save a dog that got splashed with acid by some freak. I had no choice but to donate-for the second time this week but I had to if i were to sleep at all at night. And I’m furious, literally blind with rage. What is that “human” being that does such a thing!? Why does that…thing, that monster have the right to breathe at all?! Everything happens for a reason some say? FUCK THAT! Nothing can ever excuse violence and suffering, nothing. 
I know people in general suck; I just wish I wasn’t reminded so often of it.