I write because I’m terrified of forgetting. Because everything that happens to us – every experience, every emotion – and even things that don’t, things that just passes through our minds for mere moments, it will all sink into nothingness. Become a piece of the past, and the past itself is something that doesn’t exist. It did, but not anymore. And when I write, it’s like I chain those moments to reality. I think writers should be called heroes because they save.
At the moment
I do not precisely love the place I’m in right now and find myself elsewhere in my mind, not just up in the clouds with my dreams and ideas, but somewhere else as in I like the future better than I like now. It’s a trap, and I know that, because future is just another name for the now that is to come and by hiding further into the future I’ll never reach it, sometimes I just have to remind myself that there’s always a purpose for me being right where I am now, and perhaps tomorrow I’ll be somewhere else.
Moleskine journal
Words and dictatorship
Media is king and we’re its peasants, master the internet and you master the world. Since perhaps ten years back. The world is changing, and it’s no longer the authors that control it. And perhaps we’re free in a way, it’s no longer the few people rich enough to afford books that know things, but we all have information and news at our fingertips. I thought about my friend with dyslexia and how she finds so much joy in being able to master the internet with photos and paintings. She doesn’t need words to say how she feels. But then I thought about her difficulties in school. Or when it comes to reading music, it still affects her in a lot of areas in her life.
And I realized that we’ve only changed the way we use our words, not how much they own us. Today, every person with a blog is a writer and we share our lives and feelings on social media without pause, we just usually don’t care as much about how we say it and how we use our words as an art form to express ourselves. Instead they’re a necessary mean that is about what we say and do, instead of how we say it. The art of the written word has been pushed away into the dark corners of the internet. And the art of the spoken word is in many ways since long forgotten.
Or has it just moved into a quiet dictatorship? If you master your words well, and for that you can be a rapper as well as a poet, you can have the world under your feet without people even noticing that it’s you they’re listening to.
Even though the dusty old poetry books are a source of magic, the source of the art of every single written and spoken word, rests within all of us. Anyone who cares about getting their point across, or want to be able to tell a story in a way that will make people laugh, have their hope in mastering talking. Anyone who wants their essays to be the very best, who want to blog with a voice that people listens to, have their hope in mastering writing. And anyone who wants to be able to ask the right questions by sorting through the 90% bullshit in every conversation and get to the core of what actually matters, have their hope in understanding what words are, how we use them and how other people use them.
The word is dead when the world shuts up.
Sunshine in the rain
I like it when the weather is feeling slightly confused.
Gift
Look at this beautiful scarf my friend got me from Vietnam.
I forgot my heart
Sometimes I get so wrapped up in things I want to do and feel like doing and don’t feel like doing and kinda have to anyway, that I forget to stop thinking. I forget to feel life, and start to experience it simply with my mind. And then I’m suddenly shaken alive, God wakes my soul up, and so I go back to feeling. I feel everything and it’s like having an additional sense. Or bigger than that, like the way I normally go around, thinking about stuff and experiencing them with all my senses, is fine. But what a poor way to live. And when I go back to happiness that warms my heart and tears that wrecks it, it’s like all my senses had lost their meaning until now when my heart feels what it knows so it can believe it.
Moleskine drawings
I recently fell for the peer pressure and bought myself a moleskine notebook. I never quite got why they were so special, but then stumbled upon great things about them on the internet and when I found out they were used by people like Hemingway, Van Gogh and Picasso I couldn’t quite resist. So anyway, I thought I was gonna post a few images of what I’ve created in mine so far.
Early spring
The air is crispy fresh and that’s what I’ve missed the most. Also, today I saw the first.. Hepatica I think it’s called in english? And dear friends, to me that flower is the banner of spring, it means winter is beaten.
^Chilling watching some Pretty little liars, relatively unrelated to the rest of the post but randomness is my motto.
Let me breathe
The world is collapsing in on me, suffocating me and pressing me down, collapsing me in on myself. I spend too much time in the presence of only my own simple being, and my latest theory, the one that I came up with on the bus on my way home, is that it’s ruining me. It’s breaking me because it’s making my world smaller. I realized that I haven’t been out of the house without reason for a long time. I make my way to school, I make my way to the bus and back from the bus and a few times every day I go out to my house, since I live in a little cabin in our backyard. And every time I go there, I take a few seconds to just stand in our garden and look up at the clouded sky. And I never realized that I need more of that, it’s droplets when I crave rivers.
Today it’s hate-weather, the type that makes my friends sigh, but I suddenly realized the freedom of it. The sky is clouded but the spring is closing in and the days aren’t as dark anymore. Small drops of rain are falling from the sky, but it’s fresh. And I suddenly realized that I need a freaking walk. I need to leave my headphones at home and just walk through the forest. And I realized that I like this weather because the world feels so empty. Empty, yet open. I need to go outside of all the things we humans have built for ourselves and I need to make the world feel like mine and let nature feel like I belong to it. I need to breathe.
eirians 