I was sitting in my favorite Bratislava cafe, being irritated by the overflow of tourists that have started making the city theirs and disrupting the tranquil atmosphere I have gotten used to, when I caught myself engrossed in pessimism. My thoughts trailed onto a path, not entirely unfamiliar to me, but a path of which I try to stay clear as much as I can. It is the path that leads to the dead-ends, to the place in myself, and everyone else human (I assume here that all human beings have similar tendencies) where high hopes and aspirations are destroyed, and labelled impossible. I took this path into the inner darkness, and I reside there still.
It seems to me that whatever dreams I have, of whichever nature, will never come true. The dreams, aspirations, and high hopes - regarding the future in every way, the career, the artistic endeavours, the stability, the security, the study, the love-life, the everything, - can not possibly turn out in the manner that I wish. That they never could. It seems perfectly clear to me that the pictures I paint of my future can never be realized in the minutest details I apply to them. Reality will always enforce its ruthless variations, however much I exert myself in the shaping of the ideal.
It is not to say that I will ever give up, I never would, my eyes will continue to be set on the ideal, and it is in that direction that I will ever push forward. But I fear, very much, here in the darkness where I shivering and alone bury my head between my knees, that the ideal will again and again be shattered into sharp pieces of illusion.
Surprisingly pessimistic,
..kH
Saturday, April 23, 2005
Monday, April 18, 2005
Spunky meets Pétya.
After a long day of hyperactivity Spunky returned home, his body having grown quite tired during the day his mind had finally acquired some room to think, and now he was plagued with gloomy thought. As he sat there, his mind racing through the unploughed fields of remembrance and questions unanswered, the shadow of his frown seemed to grow ever larger, eventually swallowing half his face before leaking onto the floor and crawling up the wall in front of him.
The unintelligible echoes in his head, "What is it? Which part? If not this then that, vice versa, back to front.. neither here nor there, yet both..", seemed to weigh on him so that he sank lower and lower into his seat, never reaching a conclusion, one thought disappearing only to be reinstated again from behind another, and together all of them would circle round the scope of his mindscape until he felt madness would begin to seep in.
Perhaps my readers are wondering what it was that had set this merry-go-round in motion in poor little Spunky's head, and before I continue and go into the story of his meeting with Pétya, I am obliged to give a slight explanation for the current state of Spunky's affairs.
My readers must understand that Spunky was not the sort of fellow who painted the black-and-grey of his personal gloom onto the surface of his appearance. He veiled himself in mystery, moulded for himself an appearance that suggested many things, to his friends and acquaintances he always seemed a jovial and cheery sort of fellow, but his truest, and most contemplative self, only emerged to its fullest grandeur in his more personal and private moments. And this was one of those moments. A moment all to himself, accompanied only by the shadows hand-in-hand with the light, and the memory of his recent breakup.
The moment stimulated contemplation on the nature of love, a phenomenon that Spunky, like so many others, thought he knew and comprehended in his own way, but nonetheless continued to appear unfathomable when penetrated to any extent.
"My body, mind and heart seem to decide things for themselves. What am I if not my mind, heart and body, did I choose these men or did sperate parts of me decide this? I dont know, I am pretty lost here. What is love? Which part of you contains it? Does it reside in your body? Your mind? Your heart? Is it the voice? The chains? The curiosity and needs? What is it?" (Author´s note: The inspiration for this account is taken from Spunky´s personal logs, from which this is quoted)
As he had begun to swallow up his whole being by these considerations, he was snatched out of his contemplation by a sudden thud! on the window to his left. He impulsively turned his head to see what had made the noise, and his eyes met the gaze of what seemed to be a stout bat, fluttering to keep itself afloat in the air in front of a greasy mark on the window, most likely from the bat´s collision with the window pane. Having hesitated only for a breath, Spunky jumped up and opened the window to let the strange creature in, and it gratefully fluttered into the warmth of the room, aimlessly at first, but then sat itself on a shelf, catching its breath before it was able to pose courtly and give Spunky miniature suggestions of a smile on its leathery face.
"Thank you, ever so kind of you. Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Pyotr Pétrovich, bodhisattva of caves and treetops, however you can call me Pétya. Please, sit down, I am here only to assist you in your troubles, please, by all means, make yourself quite comfortable." Spunky regarded the strange creature inquiringly, but as its offer seemed genuine he slowly made his way back to his seat after closing the window, and sat.
"Where do you come from?" he asked. "From the skies covering earth patches such as Romania and Russia, Eastern-Europe basically." "And are you, well, what I mean to ask is, are you for real? Well obviously, but, I mean.. Okay, so you are a bat?" "Indeed, further questions?" "Vampire bat?" "Well, I used to be, but I became a vegan. So, fruit bat." "Because of your figure?" "Pardon me, I did not quite catch that?" "I mean to ask, well, did you switch from blood, high in cholesterol, to fruit, because of your figure?" "To be perfectly honest with you I used to be quite slender before I switched to fruit, now, as you see, I am plump as a plum, but that quite compliments my character I feel." And thus, connection was struck between them. Spunky could not help but feel that this strange little creature, this Pétya, was pure of heart and had come to meet him with good intentions. He relaxed, and became receptive to whatever it was Pétya had come to tell him.
"Let me begin by explaining to you what brought me here. I am a bodhisattva, I flutter above the suffering and seek understanding of their troubles, and of what causes suffering. My intention is to seize every opportunity to relieve suffering, if my understanding of it allows me the appurtenance, and in your case I believe I may have a thing or two to add, which you then freely can draw into your considerations, or discard, at your own convenience." Spunky´s eyes enlarged, his mouth slightly opened, and Pétya´s harmonious little voice managed to appease his troubled mind. "The vibes of your chords of thought reached my protruding ears as you strummed them, and I know full well your considerations, and how they trouble you. Let me attempt to add the following minor chord to the muddled composition. . ." And thus Pétya began a monologue which touched on all of Spunky´s considerations, and then strayed beyond the notion of love to the notion of humanity and the universal wholeness of one and all. I will spare my readers the monstrosity of Pétya´s discourse, and include here only the conclusion of his speech.
"It is therefore the separation, in your case the separation of your being into parts, as it is individuals´ separation from each other, and humanity´s separation from the larger universe, that is the source of great unnecessary suffering.
"Now that you have activated different parts of your being in your affectionate endeavours, in your quest for the fulfillment of love, you will need to combine their energies, and find a way to love as a whole. With every bit of you, every precious little bit, for how can you offer merely isolated passions to your lovers, and then expect to meet their needs as entities, as complete beings, as well as your own? Link your head to your heart and screw yourself together, be all that you are, and experience the power of such completion in its entirety, - with your entirety." Spunky was speechless for a minute, but then he howled, "This as absurd! I am sitting here, seemingly, for how can I be sure?, being lectured to by a bat about how to conduct my personal affairs. This is ridiculous, who put me in this position?" Pétya grinned in amusement. "The author of this account, to be sure, he has put us both in this absurd position for his own pleasure, he´s a queer fellow," ("aren´t we all," thought Spunky) "but he means well, he always does." "Well, I am not sitting here like this, I want out.. let me out!" (Author´s note: I most certainly will not. You are the stimulator for this account, and so you are trapped in it)
"Don´t get upset," said Pétya reassuringly, "I have finished what I came here for, and I shall go. But remember, separation can be a great evil.. and a sneaky devil. Too many of us engage in it in so many ways. The author of this account, for example, by writing the account he separates himself from it, and the ideas presented in it. He writes it and leaves it, denounces responsibility for it, believing people should only approach it individually and make what they will of it. The readers of this account, in turn, will only read it and then amusingly separate themselves from its content, declaring it to be a mere work of fiction for the reader´s and the author´s pleasure. If the content has any relation to their lives they will only secretly harbor its influence on them.
"And so, will we be able to abandon this destructive tendency? Let us begin somewhere, you can try it out in your personal affairs, accomplish loving as a whole and encouraging your lover to do the same, merge together as two entireties and form a larger entity through the combination of your affectionate powers for the sake of a greater good, a larger entirety. I leave you now, be happy for your sake and everyone´s." And Pétya took off. Fluttering heavily, as before, aimlessly at first, but suddenly stopped mid-air, landed on a table and turned to Spunky again.
"Kindly open the window, please?" And Spunky did.
(Author´s note: It seems to me that either Pyotr Pétrovich took inspiration from my entry on February 2, 2005, where I addressed the notion of the perfect couple , for the delivery of his message, or that I must share some of his philosophy with him without having ever met him myself)
Conceived by,
..kH
After a long day of hyperactivity Spunky returned home, his body having grown quite tired during the day his mind had finally acquired some room to think, and now he was plagued with gloomy thought. As he sat there, his mind racing through the unploughed fields of remembrance and questions unanswered, the shadow of his frown seemed to grow ever larger, eventually swallowing half his face before leaking onto the floor and crawling up the wall in front of him.
The unintelligible echoes in his head, "What is it? Which part? If not this then that, vice versa, back to front.. neither here nor there, yet both..", seemed to weigh on him so that he sank lower and lower into his seat, never reaching a conclusion, one thought disappearing only to be reinstated again from behind another, and together all of them would circle round the scope of his mindscape until he felt madness would begin to seep in.
Perhaps my readers are wondering what it was that had set this merry-go-round in motion in poor little Spunky's head, and before I continue and go into the story of his meeting with Pétya, I am obliged to give a slight explanation for the current state of Spunky's affairs.
My readers must understand that Spunky was not the sort of fellow who painted the black-and-grey of his personal gloom onto the surface of his appearance. He veiled himself in mystery, moulded for himself an appearance that suggested many things, to his friends and acquaintances he always seemed a jovial and cheery sort of fellow, but his truest, and most contemplative self, only emerged to its fullest grandeur in his more personal and private moments. And this was one of those moments. A moment all to himself, accompanied only by the shadows hand-in-hand with the light, and the memory of his recent breakup.
The moment stimulated contemplation on the nature of love, a phenomenon that Spunky, like so many others, thought he knew and comprehended in his own way, but nonetheless continued to appear unfathomable when penetrated to any extent.
"My body, mind and heart seem to decide things for themselves. What am I if not my mind, heart and body, did I choose these men or did sperate parts of me decide this? I dont know, I am pretty lost here. What is love? Which part of you contains it? Does it reside in your body? Your mind? Your heart? Is it the voice? The chains? The curiosity and needs? What is it?" (Author´s note: The inspiration for this account is taken from Spunky´s personal logs, from which this is quoted)
As he had begun to swallow up his whole being by these considerations, he was snatched out of his contemplation by a sudden thud! on the window to his left. He impulsively turned his head to see what had made the noise, and his eyes met the gaze of what seemed to be a stout bat, fluttering to keep itself afloat in the air in front of a greasy mark on the window, most likely from the bat´s collision with the window pane. Having hesitated only for a breath, Spunky jumped up and opened the window to let the strange creature in, and it gratefully fluttered into the warmth of the room, aimlessly at first, but then sat itself on a shelf, catching its breath before it was able to pose courtly and give Spunky miniature suggestions of a smile on its leathery face.
"Thank you, ever so kind of you. Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Pyotr Pétrovich, bodhisattva of caves and treetops, however you can call me Pétya. Please, sit down, I am here only to assist you in your troubles, please, by all means, make yourself quite comfortable." Spunky regarded the strange creature inquiringly, but as its offer seemed genuine he slowly made his way back to his seat after closing the window, and sat.
"Where do you come from?" he asked. "From the skies covering earth patches such as Romania and Russia, Eastern-Europe basically." "And are you, well, what I mean to ask is, are you for real? Well obviously, but, I mean.. Okay, so you are a bat?" "Indeed, further questions?" "Vampire bat?" "Well, I used to be, but I became a vegan. So, fruit bat." "Because of your figure?" "Pardon me, I did not quite catch that?" "I mean to ask, well, did you switch from blood, high in cholesterol, to fruit, because of your figure?" "To be perfectly honest with you I used to be quite slender before I switched to fruit, now, as you see, I am plump as a plum, but that quite compliments my character I feel." And thus, connection was struck between them. Spunky could not help but feel that this strange little creature, this Pétya, was pure of heart and had come to meet him with good intentions. He relaxed, and became receptive to whatever it was Pétya had come to tell him.
"Let me begin by explaining to you what brought me here. I am a bodhisattva, I flutter above the suffering and seek understanding of their troubles, and of what causes suffering. My intention is to seize every opportunity to relieve suffering, if my understanding of it allows me the appurtenance, and in your case I believe I may have a thing or two to add, which you then freely can draw into your considerations, or discard, at your own convenience." Spunky´s eyes enlarged, his mouth slightly opened, and Pétya´s harmonious little voice managed to appease his troubled mind. "The vibes of your chords of thought reached my protruding ears as you strummed them, and I know full well your considerations, and how they trouble you. Let me attempt to add the following minor chord to the muddled composition. . ." And thus Pétya began a monologue which touched on all of Spunky´s considerations, and then strayed beyond the notion of love to the notion of humanity and the universal wholeness of one and all. I will spare my readers the monstrosity of Pétya´s discourse, and include here only the conclusion of his speech.
"It is therefore the separation, in your case the separation of your being into parts, as it is individuals´ separation from each other, and humanity´s separation from the larger universe, that is the source of great unnecessary suffering.
"Now that you have activated different parts of your being in your affectionate endeavours, in your quest for the fulfillment of love, you will need to combine their energies, and find a way to love as a whole. With every bit of you, every precious little bit, for how can you offer merely isolated passions to your lovers, and then expect to meet their needs as entities, as complete beings, as well as your own? Link your head to your heart and screw yourself together, be all that you are, and experience the power of such completion in its entirety, - with your entirety." Spunky was speechless for a minute, but then he howled, "This as absurd! I am sitting here, seemingly, for how can I be sure?, being lectured to by a bat about how to conduct my personal affairs. This is ridiculous, who put me in this position?" Pétya grinned in amusement. "The author of this account, to be sure, he has put us both in this absurd position for his own pleasure, he´s a queer fellow," ("aren´t we all," thought Spunky) "but he means well, he always does." "Well, I am not sitting here like this, I want out.. let me out!" (Author´s note: I most certainly will not. You are the stimulator for this account, and so you are trapped in it)
"Don´t get upset," said Pétya reassuringly, "I have finished what I came here for, and I shall go. But remember, separation can be a great evil.. and a sneaky devil. Too many of us engage in it in so many ways. The author of this account, for example, by writing the account he separates himself from it, and the ideas presented in it. He writes it and leaves it, denounces responsibility for it, believing people should only approach it individually and make what they will of it. The readers of this account, in turn, will only read it and then amusingly separate themselves from its content, declaring it to be a mere work of fiction for the reader´s and the author´s pleasure. If the content has any relation to their lives they will only secretly harbor its influence on them.
"And so, will we be able to abandon this destructive tendency? Let us begin somewhere, you can try it out in your personal affairs, accomplish loving as a whole and encouraging your lover to do the same, merge together as two entireties and form a larger entity through the combination of your affectionate powers for the sake of a greater good, a larger entirety. I leave you now, be happy for your sake and everyone´s." And Pétya took off. Fluttering heavily, as before, aimlessly at first, but suddenly stopped mid-air, landed on a table and turned to Spunky again.
"Kindly open the window, please?" And Spunky did.
(Author´s note: It seems to me that either Pyotr Pétrovich took inspiration from my entry on February 2, 2005, where I addressed the notion of the perfect couple , for the delivery of his message, or that I must share some of his philosophy with him without having ever met him myself)
Conceived by,
..kH
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