Resurrection

On Wednesday there was an interesting article on FB: 10 most anticipated 2013 rock albums. It was on my wall because the NIN-army posted it on their wall and they posted it in the first place because the # 1 album is…NIN.

Hmm. And I thought it would never see the light of day. It still hasn’t of course. I’d read here and there TR had said something about a new NIN album but always in terms of “maybe”, “possibly”, “probably” etc. So he was actually serious about it? A new album then. I am excited…I guess; I don’t know. TR is no longer the TR who started NIN. I am no longer the I who fell for NIN. I will love it of course-the new album. But what are the chances it will mean the world for me as the case was with the earlier albums? Last but not least-the question burning my mind is: will he tour? And if he tours but only in USA will I go? I might. I very much might. The thrill of a NIN gig is incomparable and irreplaceable. The thought alone I could once more feel as I felt in 2007 makes me ecstatic. 

Reflux

Yesterday was really wrong. I could use some healing sleep, or even more of it…if only sleep would come. Sleep is peace; peace is good.

Happy endings do exist

As shitty as yesterday was, today started with news so good it made my heart rejoice. On my first visit to the dog shelter just before leaving I went to the bathroom to wash my hands but as I was about to enter I stood stock-still at the threshold. Inside the bathroom there was a cage and in it was a Pit Bull-the most gorgeous Pit Bull I’ve ever seen. Beautiful animal; admirable. But his most distinctive feature was his eyes. I’ve never seen such an intelligent look in any dog’s eyes. His gaze fell upon me as I walked to the sink, washed my hands and walked back. He didn’t let me out of sight for even a second. It is beyond words how much sadness and accusation there were in his eyes. He couldn’t understand why he had to be in a cage; he couldn’t understand why he was unwanted. Later I was told he had been trained for dog fights, that he’s great to humans but a danger to any dog that would come near him. Poor thing. It wasn't his fault but it was he who had to pay. To see him there week after week was heartbreaking for me.

But last week his cage was gone! I had hopes but it slipped my mind to ask where Gladiator was. And today I learnt he wasn’t there because he’s adopted! I’m immensely glad :)

The name Gladiator suits him, doesn’t it? He looks so happy :)

Darkest

The Dark Knight Rises. Ah, I finally saw it yesterday. What can I say? Of all superheroes Batman is my favorite-because he’s only human with no superpowers and there’s nothing supernatural about him. Thus, anyone could be/become Batman. All it takes is enormous will, strength of convictions, unconditional dedication, selflessness and burning faith. It is about vocation so overmastering that it is impossible to be disregarded or crushed by the priority of one’s own selfish wellbeing. Of course I love the character. It’s an epitome of the ultimate virtue the human spirit is capable of: the innate weakness and the boldness to confront and defeat it.   

And the movie is all about that. I love the idea of duality-the way no one (except for Commissioner Gordon perhaps) is who he/she seems to be at first. Every action has its reason; every word comes with a story. . If anything, it teaches that “nothing’s over ‘till it’s over”.  And that surprises are one of the charms of life-they can be hideous but they can be oh so delightful.

Is the human race worth the sacrifice? Despite my doubts, when Batman says it is I trust him.
We all need to believe that good will win at the end. At least I do.

Vibes

I looove this track. No matter the situation, when I listen to it as if I can dance my way out of whatever mess I’m in.

Memento

It’s Wednesday but I’m not behind my desk at the office. I took a few days off. And this morning, as I felt like doing nothing even remotely resembling any sort of work, I browsed through my photo albums. There are no recent pictures in them-with the digital camera printing pictures became irrelevant. One of the albums is full of Vincent’s photos exclusively. He looks happy-and I hope he really was, I hope he had a good time under my care. Another album holds pictures of me taken by a former colleague-a man with a pitiful collection of oddities but very good with his Canon; I even like myself on those pictures. Well, they were taken a decade ago. As one of my present colleagues put it “You were quite a catch in those days”. Err, thank you? I suppose I had some potential but it was a potential for being someone I knew was not the real me. By now I could’ve been already married and divorced (even back then kids were out of the question). It’s not that I have that many regrets but I am sorry I didn’t use my youth more wisely-it’s a chance I’ll never be given again. Of course I knew it wouldn’t last forever but I guess I thought it would last longer.  

Idleness…I enjoy it. It gives my mind the freedom to roam until it finds peace. And once that peace gets boring I might be even glad to return to the hustle and bustle of other people’s imaginary worlds. 

Softly

It’s really frustrating to have that feeling of something wonderful in progress but to be yet unable to actually see any of it. Impatience is now what could make the difference between a bad day and a bad life. I should not succumb to the obvious for the obvious has never been trustworthy for me. Am I just being stupid to rely on the hidden and to aim at the invisible? Could be but then again what is reason good for without a heart to breathe life into it?

“HAD I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”

He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven

I shouldn’t have deleted “Equilibrium”.

Tender-ish

Yesterday I had another magical experience at the dog shelter. There’s this female dog-quite small, plain in looks but very adorable. I don’t know what has happened to her before she got to the shelter but it must have been dreadful. Her neck is completely naked-there’s no fur on it, just bare skin. I suppose she has been kept on a tight leash for years. Poor thing. She has a very sunny disposition but the moment you put a leash on her neck and she completely freaks out. She pulls back in attempts to break free, she chokes-it’s simply not possible to walk her in a calm manner as the other dogs. One of the regular volunteers said she’s always been like that and that sadly she shows no improvement. And that is why yesterday he gave her to me. “See if you can do something with her.” I picked her up, fondled her, talked to her, told her how beautiful she was, how lovely she was. I carried her in my arms for some 30-40 m and put her on the ground. I made sure the leash around her neck was loose and invited her to walk. And she did! She walked so confidently as if she was competing in a dog show. Now and then we had to stop for an encouraging word and a caress and after that she’d walk again effortlessly. We made 3 rounds and she was perfect. One of the volunteers said “I don’t believe my eyes. What you did with her is a miracle.” That felt good; really good.

Radiant

For me spending Saturday at the dog shelter is, among other things, very inspiring (I once tried going there both weekend days and it was a disaster-the exhaustion was so brutal that I got my sleep disrupted for a week; I chose Saturday so I could have Sunday to recover; plus, I like the Saturday group better). It is inspiring because… Lately my faith in human race is, let’s say, weakened. I see too much violence and aggression and malice, and almost zero tolerance, sympathy and concern. Black prevails, white is scarce. But at the dog shelter I meet people who definitely still have something good inside, people who still care and are considerate and kind. I see how they communicate with the dogs and it is moving. And I know not all is lost. 

For the sake of

Yesterday I was told a bit of informal psychology-that cat persons need to give love while dog persons need to be given love. I’m both a cat and a dog person. Lucky me.

It’s Saturday-the dog shelter day. In an hour I’ll be heading for it where with certainty I will give and will be given plenty of love (and fur and dirt on my clothes but who cares?). I guess I am lucky after all.

Those moments of fragility

Pop ballads are not my cup of tea but sometimes a song like that one comes my way breaking me into pieces. I’m only human after all. And sometimes I need to be just that-human: vulnerable, weak, confused.

Settled

Give away, give away. The more I give the less I think about myself. And that’s good. I might even beat my ego eventually. That sounds somewhat like an oxymoron doesn’t it? And I will keep just enough of it to never let anyone tell me what I should do with my life. It’s mine to throw it away the way I think is right.  

Touched

I spent my Saturday at the dog shelter-yes, again. That was my 5^th visit. I suppose at some point I’ll stop counting. Wasn’t I supposed to develop some resistance by now? But then again if I ever do I’d be really worried. It was again physically overly demanding-there isn’t a muscle in my body that doesn’t hurt. But yesterday was very stressful in an emotional way as well. I was given that young dog-quite small, with orange fur and golden eyes. He looked sad. I was told he had attitude problems, that he’s known to bite and that it was a good idea if I didn’t touch him. I was just about to take him outside when a rain began. And it felt so hard that I had to remain inside for some 15 minutes. Not to touch the dog I’m in charge of? Yeah, right. I sat on the floor and pulled him closer. I ran my hand down his back and I started to talk to him in a caressing voice. A couple of minutes later he was in my lap with his head on my shoulder; I was hugging him and he was hugging me back-cheek to cheek until it stopped raining. Then we went out and he behaved perfectly, constantly turning his head to look me in the eyes. We made 3 rounds and when it was time to return him in his cage as if he knew because as I kneeled he tried to crawl into my lap again-I had to take him in my arms and he snuggled his head up to mine. It was heartbreaking.  

And in the puppy section I saw that black and white puppy that looked exactly as Vincent did when he was brought to me. I cried, of course.

Heart-melting indeed

the story

In a haze

I’m OK; I just need a good sleep, that’s all. Damn fool moon…I hope.

Presentiment

Mornings are chillier, and so are the evenings. Summer is still here but I already miss it. I will miss its frivolity that makes worries lighter and troubles easier. In summer life simply seems less real.

Watchful

To be all-forgiving is a very delicate balancing act because it borders with indifference.  You have to mind the proportion so that you wouldn’t cross the line.  I guess that’s a skill one masters with time.

Scattered

My horoscope for the day urges me to be selfish for a change and see about myself exclusively. Yeah, right. As if that’s something you deliberately make up your mind about. One has to do what is right-isn’t it how it always should be? Uh, I keep forgetting about the optional nature of “should”. But we are as our choices are, right? As if words matter…as if anything matters. It feels so empty to feel that way.