poem

Day 1721, maze with no entrance.

Day's pictures, Poetry

“Thoughts like silhouettes” is the line that caught my eye whilst looking for a poem for tonight. This one I wrote the 31st of October 2018, Day 952.

A dream like walk home

dark roads an almost clear sky

thoughts like silhouettes.

A silhouette is formed when the object you look at is in contrast with something in the background. Normally this object you look at is covered in darkness and appears black because of this. So if you use this definition then thoughts that are silhouettes appear as black but maybe only because they are covered in darkness.

So your thoughts can appear dark but its not necessary that they are, and they only appears as dark because something bright shines behind it. Is this just another way of telling you that there is light at the end of the tunnel? Something we call in Dutch a “dooddoener”. You could translate it as: a lame cliche or a banality. I think it can mean something more. Your thoughts can be covered in darkness and altered this way. It can appear to be covered in darkness because the memory of a bright past or a bright future you hope for shines in the distance towards you contrasting your current state. You see your current state as a silhouette against those expectations and memories, and as a silhouette you are covered in a veil of darkness and cant see yourself and the real word clearly.

Another way of looking at it, is what we do now. I see the three words and see “a silhouette” of its appearance, but I cant see what meaning is hiding under its cloak of darkness. I think we all have had the experience that you ”feel” what you want to say but you can’t find the word for it. As if you see the answer in front of you like a animal does that knows no words. At most you can point and wave without these words or go off on a ramble hoping you find a way to tell what you see and mean.

And what about the “light source” behind the silhouette, that makes it a silhouette. What shines us in the face when we cant get out of our words and only see the silhouette of what we want to say. Is it the glaring fact that we are fallible creatures? A reminder that we still have to learn things and lack our own light to shine in the darkness?

I don’t know if looking to the world with the help of metaphors is useful, maybe it helps us to find a way out of the maze of our mind. With our thoughts we try to interpret our inner world of wordless emotions and sensations and somewhere in our mind these thoughts get converted to the words we have access to. Everybody through the ages that writes about “what’s happening” has tried to translate these inner movements to words that others can understand and relate to. There have been successes, they even came close, seen from certain perspectives, but I think it will be a playground for many years to come.

 

Day 1720, mirror.

Day's pictures, Poetry

When I look in a mirror I know that I see myself. I know that I see myself, because I looked at myself in the mirror before. But I just realized that I have seen my girlfriend more than myself, time-wise. I couldn’t help it but if I look in the mirror to myself for 5 minutes a day, in a month that will be around 2.5 hours and in my 48 years around 1500 hours or 60 day’s. And five minutes is not much for some but do you really stare at yourself and consciously take in what you see? I maybe do that 5 minutes a month, I definitely see my colleagues more than that in a month, just to see what there faces are telling me, something I never do when I talk to myself.

So we are no stranger to ourselves, face wise. But if I and my girlfriend rob a bank and the police sketch artist ask me to describe the two thieves, I would have a harder time describing myself than my girlfriend I think…something I would like to try out one day, the describing myself, not the robbing a bank… This is all funny, but seriously, I have a hard time looking at myself and get some kind of information out of that, compared to what I get when I look at someone else that I just met. I don’t know if I give away some kind of mental disorder on my part but I think we all see the difference between a serious face, or a face of someone who has seen a lot or a naive face. I can go on but the point is that I don’t see myself like that. One of the reasons is off course that I have only seen myself for the first time when I was to young to realize this fact. I also have a strong opinion about myself, and what my face should portray to first time visitors. My girlfriends face, or that of my mother, have also less secrets than before, and what it tells me now has also changed over the years. But in our daily communication our faces are still a big part of that back and forth, words only tell half the story. It is that part that I miss when I look in the mirror, that active communication with myself. I only have my own thoughts without the help of my face.

I see a stranger

my hairs rise and with my fear

i turn the mirror.

This poem from Day 928 was the inspiration for today’s writing.

It speaks for itself regarding the message I try to tell above. The only thing that I don’t mention is the fear that turns me away from looking to long at myself. For now I can only say that my face in the mirror is motionless and it’s scary to look at, because it comes to close to what I feel deep inside.. Maybe my face is telling me the truth after all.

Day 1719, perpendicular.

Day's pictures, Poetry

If you believe the American/Hollywood culture there are such groups as Italian, Irish, Colombian, Japanese and many more American flavors. They’re portrait as quite distinct from your “normal” Americans. I get this fascination with focusing on the differences, but I hope that people understand that we are for 95% the same in our behavior, in similar situations. I don’t know if it is 95%, that’s a guess.

I am Dutch, and I have some ways of doing things that I have seen more among other people that lived around me in the Netherlands. They say that those are “typical” Dutch behaviors so I pay more attention to them and as a consequence of that attention, I see them more, ignoring the majority that lacks them. I do the same, but in reverse, here in Norway where I live now. They told me, and I read it in books that Norwegians are I some behaviors different than a typical Dutch person. I noticed that they are less organized and more individualistic at work. I worked in different places throughout the country and and I see the similarities. I think we really approach work and organizing differently but focusing on this, and blowing it out of proportion, I might have forgotten that there are many more things we do the same.

I have an anecdote regarding the Dutch and, in this case, the Norwegians. I thought that I came up with this idea but not so long ago I read it also in a book, so I think that “my idea” is somewhat of an exaggeration, but you never know. It goes like this: In the Netherlands we have to build dikes to keep out the water. The one thing that is unique about a dike compared is that everybody that lives behind the dike needs to take care of his or her part of the dike. If one fail’s, everybody is doomed. During the centuries we (the people living in the river delta where later the Netherlands was established) learned to work together and come up with systems to insure the safety of everybody. You can imagine that a thousand farmers in Norway can more or less do what they want at there farm without it effecting there neighbors to much. I think that this anecdote can explain how a behavior slowly grows and gets past on to each following generation. But, for the last 150 years or so you can put the people that take care of the “dike” systems in the Netherlands in a few buses. I have admired the dikes and waterworks in the Netherlands but I never put a shovel in the ground to help, the closest I came was electing the new boss of the departments that maintains it all. So at best I have some lingering “organizing” meme* in me.

The poem that inspired me today was from Day 922

perpendicular

my thoughts and the soil I left

high above I fly.

I read it and thought: my thoughts about my heritage and behavior are not based on a broader understanding of the country and culture I am from. My thoughts comprise at most the place of my footprint, they go “perpendicular” up and that’s my knowledge, and from there I “fly” away

* “According to Dawkins, “the meme exemplified another self-replicating unit with potential significance in explaining human behavior and cultural evolution.“ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meme#Dawkins

Day 1718, upwards downhill.

Day's pictures, Poetry

From Day 911

I float slowly down

then I unexpectedly

have nowhere to go.

I realize that my Haiku’s from this period are often about getting stuck in life. My inspiration for the poems normally start with the picture, in this case its a hippopotamus seen from the side through glass , the big beast slowly floats down till its hit the ground. The poem describes the situation the only difference is that its written from my point of…feeling.

But I think about life, read books about it, live it. If you do that with some critical thinking then life will appear as a slow road downhill till the end, its just the way it is. You can sugarcoat it what you want but after your eighteenth birthday you physically decay slowly and the spring in your mind gets stiffer and stiffer. What I want to say is that having thought about life going nowhere is not necessary a reflection on what’s going on at the moment in your life.

I don’t like to complain that I am on a downhill trajectory, when we are always going down. Maybe you think you are going upwards at some points in your life, but with enough distance you will see that your still going down. I assure you, I am still a positive guy, just realistic. Why do I think then that this is a healthy way of looking at life, you might ask. I think that a part of being human is feeling, even if it is deep inside, that life is pointless. To combat this realization we humans created all kinds of ideas and stories that assure us that life is not useless. The problem is that people don’t like to be reminded of the origin of these stories and would happily kill the person that tells a different story or none. Life is more clearer without all these illusions stuffed in your head, this is one advantage of excepting you are going downhill and slowly getting there.

The funny thing Is, now that I am approaching my fiftieth birthday (still a kid according to my 75 year old colleagues) is that I still dare to take big steps in life, but no longer out of innocence and lack of respect for the consequences, but because I know that I will always find solid ground…when I land downhill.

Day 1717, to do or not to do.

Day's pictures, Poetry

There are moments in your life that you have to make a decision. Easy ones like: do I eat pizza or pasta? Or a moderate one like: do I buy the red or black car? And the harder ones like a divorce or quitting a job. All these decisions come on our paths and they can be exciting but the are not exciting. They are just the mundane events that are part of everybody’s life, and though they can be thrilling and/or devastating, nonetheless they are not special as in, out of the ordinary.

I like the events that are out of the ordinary, or maybe better said: events that grind against the boundary of what is possible when they pass you by in the far distance. An example: a friend tells you about his uncle that lives in a far away land, that uncle is looking for someone for his company, its a job you can do, but are not qualified for, but because of your connection you might get it. You might get it if you go for it. You have to move to a whole different continent, live in another culture and work in a field you don’t know. The whole idea is so far from you, literally and figuratively, but also a possibility and a decision away. If you don’t take the decision, life will go on, but you will always remember the feeling of what it would be like, living that other life.

I think that everybody can come up with an example for themselves. It can just be a dream that one day comes really close, a decision away “close”…what do you do.

The inspiration for this thought came from the haiku I wrote on Day 907.

An empty blue chair

a distant view passes by

I slowly decide.

Do I sit in the blue chair, or do I make my first step towards a new view that is passing by.

Day 1716, diamond and coal.

Day's pictures, Poetry

Sometimes your past, or more specifically the plans from your past, come speeding towards you faster than you go forwards. This can happen suddenly, when you open a dust covered box from the attic, or power on your old Nokia phone from 2002 and look at the call history. Old plans, memories and wishes cling to us, hidden from sight, ready to appear uninvited.

These unwelcome or forgotten parts of your past horizons are often a byproduct of some sort of transformation. Your relation ended in tears which are dried up and forgotten by now, but the breakup made you move and because of that you found a job that changed your life, and horizon.

The pasts that follow you have many facets. And like a diamond they are hardened by the pressure of time, forgetfulness and bias. The different sides of your past memories are also sharply divided, a tragic loss can be cut next to a new hope.

But no matter what, your past made you who you are know, and should be admired like you admire a diamond. Don’t forget that your past might be ugly like a lump of coal, but without that peace of coal and some pressure you will never shine like a…

My inspiration for today came from the poem that belonged to Day 901.

Rime and horizon

facets of transformation

speeding behind you.

I like the word rime. Your past can be frosty and no matter what, you always look forwards to a horizon, even if you go backwards. But rime is also old English for rhyme. I used the facets and diamond analogy above but you might as well use rhyme or poetry as an analogy for your past. In your head your past can be ugly but for your own sake you make it rhyme so you can remember it more fondly.

Day 1715, fall out of.

Day's pictures, Poetry

Like we do, words can also mean something else if they are surrounded by other companions. It is far from polite to say everything you want in someone’s face. I can’t imagine a society, now or in the past, where that would be appropriate. You don’t tell your new boss that he’s a lying peace of… you wait with that till your home, with another companion, or when your quit or know and respect each other. Strangers might curse at each other, but a stranger with who you have to build a relation should not be told the (your) truth when you just met. We all know this truth, or call it “normal behavior”, even if we don’t follow it or have some kind of (mild) sociopathic behavior.

So what we say depends on where and with who we are. If you follow the ideas of Darwin and his evolution theory, you can imagine that a person that constantly tells what he thinks of others will quickly be thrown out of the group, and thus has a hard time procreating. Its a little simple the way I tell it but our social behavior has a link with our success in evolving. Some behaviors are more attractive and beneficial than others. Can you imagine that the strongest male still would mate exclusively with all the females in the group, that behavior died off early in our evolution, though its echo might still be seen in some of us.

With our words and where they are, or how they are interpreted, we have an easier time understanding the rules though there might still be some evolution involved.

In the poem that I chose for today (Day 893) I used a word you can read in different ways and so change the interpretation of the poem.

Remains after fall

a relic of dignity

prosaic delight.

The picture that accompanied this haiku can probably be guessed. When its fall (autumn is the more formal name for this part of the year) the majestic flower slowly dies and that can make you reminisce about summer. But we can also reminisce about our, or someone else’s fall. Like falling from grace or favor. Your dignity can be bruised after you “fall from your high horse” and many will take delight in that.

Words are funny, I looked up the word fall and there are many ways you can interpret and use this word, maybe the word fall is THE equivalent for the word human.

Day 1714, behind.

Day's pictures, Poetry

I like Jean-Paul Sartre’s existentialism, you are responsible for your own deeds and the door is wide open. It was, and is of course a bold thought, and he refined it later in life as I understood. But in a sense, he is right. If you have to do something and it will cost you your life if you don’t, you can choose death. You can walk away from a bad relation or job, just walk away. It is simple, it sounds simple but it is also, almost impossible. A great harm or bad relation feels often more secure than an unknown future or a known future you don’t want.

Sartre came up with many of his thoughts during the second world war in occupied France. He probably knows more about the ultimate sacrifice than we do, even if it is just through stories from close friends. Would you save someone else’s life if it meant your own death? It is a choice you have according to Sartre, there is no denying in that.

Another example, more relatable for most of us. Keeping a job you don’t like but the bill’s keep on coming and you and the people that rely on you need to eat and want a roof over their heads. There is no physical force, that I can think of, that keeps you from walking away from it all. And people do of course, and we tend to shame those people.

We feel responsible, have morals and values. You just don’t do that, but you could. And Sartre was right in this sense, and you might expect that your wife or husband can take responsibility for there own life if you suddenly disappear, but what about your kids or a sick mother that lives with you?

We have the ultimate freedom to go away or choose death, but is it honest to expect this from us?

The Haiku that inspired me was from Day 889

Behind no bars

leaning on the open door

and staring outside.

The picture that was the inspiration of this poem was of a chicken in its coop, but the door was also open, as always. Footnote: this particular chicken was eaten by an…well…a sort of eagle. We saw it all happen while sitting on our couch…poor thing…maybe it was her own choice…

 

Day 1713, curious.

Day's pictures, Poetry

When I was young(er) I opened up the toys that I had, curious as I was for what was inside, and how it worked. Later in life I became “the toy”, and was curious how I worked, inside. When I was young I also had the habit of opening up other’s toys, and later their minds…not appreciated, in both cases, I can tell you.

I sometimes wonder if a character trait like curiosity is something you learn or inherit. I think that most of it is inherited, and if you are lucky that a trait like that, sticks its little head just above the rest of your traits and gets encouraged, it will blossom. It can also be suppressed by your surrounding and later, when you grow up, no one will ever know of it.

But can you learn to be curious? If you can, then no one has ever found out how you do that. Imagine if more people where curious and wondered: why do I have this specific opinion and not another? Would the world not be a better other place?

I think that a lot of people have at least a little bit of curiosity left in them from there childhood. Maybe the soil is not so barren that a little rain could sprout some lingering seeds. But there is a big change that the barren soil has a big foundation and walls build on it, that keeps the outside world at bay, and the gathered believes safely inside. I guess we first need a jackhammer.

The haiku that inspired my little writing of today was from Day 883.

I spread my fingers

trying to touch entirety

its hidden rhythm.

Day 1712, games we play.

Day's pictures, Poetry

I have this video game I like to play, its called HOI4 or Hearts of iron 4 for the noobs among you. Its a war simulation game where you spend a lot of time preparing before the action starts. I like this part, preparing, organizing, planning and I always tell myself that if the wars start I keep this meticulous organizing going on. But soon the haze of war takes over and I make some general plans and press the go button, feeling sad by the waste and eager for a result.

The poem I wrote on Day 876 of my project goes about this feeling.

Grey sky surrounding

the wind propels you forwards

leaving you behind.

If you see the picture that belongs to this poem you understand why I wrote it like I did. One of my goals when writing these poems is to also describe the picture, sometimes quite literally.

My take on it now:

Sometimes we can be so focused on a task, day, or part of our life that we feel driven by an external force. We work, we do, we go and when its time, we look back in wonder…what just happened? You where left behind, and the world lived you, til you circle back around and see yourself watching, from behind.

Have a good Sunday (or Monday).

Day 1711, holding on.

Day's pictures, Poetry

While leaning in my chair, looking at the poem I chose for today I wondered what this is good for. Not all of this, but writing in an abstract way about life, instead of writing about more practical things. I started a book about Wittgenstein and he goes deep and abstract. Talking about the meaning of the word and, and how we use languish. It is interesting, for some people at least, they publish books about him so I guess there is a market. I don’t know why it is useful that people study these subjects, I tell myself that it is like some kind of higher math, useless for our daily lives, but if you drive a car or take a flight somewhere you better thank the people that took the time to understand this hocus-pocus math and use that knowledge when they designed our cars or that airplane. Somewhere in our daily lives Wittgenstein’s ideas benefit us, though we never might know how.

The little poem/haiku I chose today, once again tells about our fruitless quest for meaning and destination. Don’t get me wrong, I think life is great but I can honestly not think of a time in my life that I thought that it led to something. For the longest time I thought that that was normal and the reason for why I am curious. How can you be curious if you already know where you are going? But sometimes I wish I could crawl into someones head that has figured it all out, just to feel what that’s like, it tickles my curiosity.

Day 857

Holding on to tight

On a narrow path nowhere

protecting a clue.

I see that I had two letters capitalized, with no period at the end of the sentence, and one with but no capitalized letter at the beginning. I guess my dyslexia screwed with me again. That why I, for the longest time now, start with a capitalized word at the beginning of a poem and nothing at the end. Patterns are my glasses, if it comes to writing.

“Holding on to tight” and “protecting a clue” point to the people that see a…point and goal in life and who hold those two like they are something precious. But there anxious tread and secrecy shows that they hold something that is hollow and can break easily, and they don’t want others to see that.

The middle sentence speaks for itself in this context.

And now a quote from Wittgenstein that fits with what I have written today. (and please read about him or his books, quotes are so often out of context)

“Nothing is so difficult as not deceiving oneself.”

and

“Not how the world is, but that it is, is the mystery.”

Day 1710, internal.

Day's pictures, Poetry

The next poem that spoke to me was not because I liked it particular but because it was once again about reality, or the world we are aware of, and how we mold it to our needs. Remember, the nerves that connect to our eyes leave a blind spot, we miss a part of the picture when it is send to the brain, but that brain combines the two pictures of both our eyes and “makes up” the information that is missing.

That is a more physical reason why our senses are not a hundred per cent accurate or trustworthy. But our mind can play more tricks on us like cognitive dissonance or a lack of critical thinking. I was also listening to a book about stoicism, and specifically Seneca. One of the ideas of stoicism is that you should not let the outside world be responsible for your happiness, don’t think that money, a big house or (in ancient Greases case) many slaves will make you happy, because it can be taken away from you. Find a spot in yourself as the source of your happiness and than it doesn’t matter where you are or what you have or loose.

I like the last sentence of the poem I chose for today: “the world stops out there”. Your world stops outside of you, or said in an other way, the way you see the world is constructed (subconsciously) by you, and can resemble reality but it most definitely does not do that all the time. You construct a world internally, your eyes are corrected internally and your cognitive dissonance, phobia’s, upbringing and other ideas are part of the way you look, see and think about the world and yourself, they are part of the internal construct that determines how you see the world.

I like what the stoics are saying, and I think that it is useful to…aim for the idea that happiness should be found internally. But I also believe that the way we look from this internal platform to the world is marked by all the scars of our past and the way we are as humans. So in this mess we have to try to find a place where we can safely store our happiness. I am not finished with these two.

The poem is from Day 826:

Towards the outside of my awareness.

The transition is veiled.

Reality and imagery are tangled.

The world stops out there.

And one from Seneca:

If you really want to escape the things that harass you, what you’re needing is not to be in a different place but to be a different person.

Day 1709, looking down.

Day's pictures, Poetry

What is reality? Or, what is your reality? The favourite question asked at philosophers kindergarten before nap time. There is enough written about that question and its in my opinion enough to know that what you touch, feel, see and smell is real for you, even if you can’t know that your reality is the same for an other. We know that if people have healthy eyes, that are made after natures specifications, we will interpret the same wavelength of light as red. What we don’t know is what someone sees if they have some kind of defect in their eyes or “process” centre in the brain. So in general we know what most people see as red is the same as we see it but there are exceptions.

Scientifically we understand what light waves are and which molecules are in a specific oder. We humans also react in similar situation, like fear or joy the same, we thus can assume that we experience the same sensations similar. It is off course not so important for our daily lives to wonder about these questions, but what if you try to understand what someone feels or experiences when grief, loss, love, anger or any other emotion or state of mind is involved. There are no light waves or molecules involved in these experiences. We might see where they light up on a brain scan but that tells you little about…what they do to you.

I found an other poem from the past that spoke to me, it is from the 23 of June 2018, Day 822.

Pull

Reality fades

caught by egos gravity

a depressed black hole.

If you try to understand what someone is experiencing who is, for instance, depressed you can only do that by delving in your own experiences. And then you have to assume that we use the same word for the same kind of experiences. People can “feel” depressed but you can also “be” depressed. You feel depressed when you breakup with someone but if your brain forget to mix the right chemicals you can be depressed without any direct influences from the outside world. Are these two comparable? There are also combinations of these two, and they can probably influence each other. We can also use words like down, heavy, somber or dark to describe the feeling of being depressed but these are all subjective to.

We humans have realized that it is difficult to share these feeling in any meaningful way with each other for thousands of years. We talk to friends or a therapist, who can fix us enough so we can go again for a while, but do we really learn something? I think that art comes the closest to give you a feeling that your not the only one with these feelings of depression or loss. You have music, paintings, books, poetry, movies and other art forms that all in their own right can make you feel recognized.

I am to modest to say that I am any good in writing poems, but it is also therapeutically for myself to write about my experiences.

I’ve been depressed, mainly because of brain chemistry that went rogue at a time when things where going fine. The way I perceived the world was that it slowly changed, my “reality faded”. Things that where valuable before suddenly lost that value, so to speak. My reality as in the school I went to and the girlfriend I had where still the same as before but they where no longer recognized as important, they faded to the background in my mind, for no apparent reason to me.

“Caught by egos gravity” You have to look at the picture that belongs to that day to understand why I used these words (its not the picture you see above this post but the one from post Day 822) I can only interpret this line now like: Your ego, or that nagging little red devil on your shoulder, is telling you that its all wrong what you do, he had such high hopes and you slowly start to doubt yourself. The unbalance between the life you live and the life your ambitious ego wants create a “black hole” where time stands still when you get pulled in…because that’s, what you want when your depressed.

Day 1708, in the corner.

Day's pictures, Poetry

As a grown-up you can still play, I like to play the game where in I regularly look into myself and see what all these years living in an other country do to me. Sounds boring? It probably is for a lot of people, but it is something I like to do. I like to look in the mirror at other things to, but since I live in Norway now for fourteen year, this seems to be and interesting angle.

I had several reasons why I wanted to move to an other country, and why I went to Norway. The main reason is different depending on who I talk to. One of my problems was that my future was not there, and I don’t mean there as in there in the Netherlands but it was just not there. Up to that point I did things that came on my path, the Marines, studying, learning a trade stuff like that. But around the age of…34…Jezus Ch… did I wo(a)ndered around that long? Well anyway, I guess it took me that long to realize that I never have taken it serious what to to with my life. The problem is that thinking like that doesn’t really fit with my philosophy. Moving to Norway looked like a big plan into the future, but honestly it was just a way out, it was after all a big plan.

The other important reason for why I left was my discontent with the Dutch society at that moment. I’ve seen some thing and lived in poor countries where life is much harder than the life I have ever led. For the same reason why I think about living for so many years in an other country I also think about why…why where those people in Cambodia seemingly more exited by the new prospects they had, coming from a place where there is nothing and probably never will be. Compared to all the complaining and specifically the hatred towards other people and strangers. So afraid of the future and the things they might loose or never get. I just didn’t know what to do with the knowledge that one in five people I met on the street or within the group of people I knew, voted for a party that, if it where 1932 Germany, would lead them at the road to the concentration camps.

And I know that things will probably not go that way, but if you study history and try to look and understand how politics was perceived in those day’s, you will find that many normal people had understandable reasons for why they voted, for instance, for the Nazis not knowing that they slowly went along with the more extremist standpoint that where preached louder and louder. Even if no one in Holland wants to be a Nazi or will become one in the foreseeable future, the fact that you hop on the yrain that might lead that way is alarming enough for me. That’s why I also left to Norway, to escape the confrontation with these people, who were sometimes my friends and or colleagues.

Why did I Thought about this today? Two reasons. First I found this Haiku from Day 811.

The land behind me

a haze waning in the past

clearing the future.

Secondly, I listened by accident to the radio today and I understand that a certain party is getting bigger here in Norway that I might not like. I purposelessly don’t integrate here in Norway insofar the politics go. I am helped by the fact that most Norwegians don’t talk about, in the Netherlands everybody does…well almost.

I don’t know why I have such a problem with it. Most people I know condemn these parties and devastating ideologies, but somehow they don’t feel the urge to migrate to an other country. I have asked them how they do it but I have never gotten a satisfying answer. I guess my kindergarten teacher was right, I asked way to mush questions, I had to stand in the corner…and don’t look at the group.

Day 1707, Unknown known.

Day's pictures, Poetry

Do you ever want to go back to a time in your past where you now think you were happier? I have that, but I don’t know if I were happier, that’s such a fleeting concept. I just like to go back to a time where I was more naive than I am now. Before, I regularly was amazed after reading a book or a talk with an interesting stranger, and that still happens, but it’s no longer twice a month but twice a year.

In my personal live I wouldn’t mind going back to the time where I was 19 and just joined the Dutch Marines, where the world opened up to me. Meeting my physical boundaries and crossing the real one by working in totally different cultures around the world. I preferably go back with the knowledge I have now but I guess that will spoil the fun. But still, it would be interesting walking in your own shadow.

The Haiku I found today (Day 802) was only written a couple of day later than the one from yesterday. I don’t know if it is any good in the world of poetry but that’s not why I write them. I write them in an attempt to reshuffle my thought and print out the results on a daily basis, brain exercise.

Going.

Retreating backwards

where the lights once were shining

to the unknown known.

Being nostalgic, every now and than, is something most people don’t escape from. We bring with us memories and where they land on the scale of truthfulness doesn’t matter, they are there and ours. Often you go back to your memories to share them with others or with the people that where there. Or you want to recall a name or place or you go there unwillingly when you see a picture or meet an old friend. But you can also “Retreat(ing) backwards” in a way to escape your current predicaments. All these examples do also count for couples, groups of people or whole countries. And there the retreat backwards can be seen in politics where people praise (“where the lights ones were shining “), lets say, the fifties. The like to think that the people where nice back than, the neighbors white and the lawns trimmed every weekend, and where kids die of polio, gays where prosecuted and asbestos was sawn in the shad for your new roof.

We tend to believe our own memories, even if you have studied the brain, psychology or are just interested in the subject. It is hard to believe that your own memories, most of the time, have little to do with what really happened, specially your ow role in these events. That’s why I call it the “to the unknown known” in the haiku.

We know our past but we also don’t.

Day 1706, judgement.

Day's pictures, Poetry

When your dark mood leaves you, you say goodbye, and till soon. You know that your dark moods come around to greet you again. You call it a dark mood because you remember the result from its last visit. If you are in your first dark mood or depression you don’t name it, you just feel shit.

It depends on your culture, family and friend how you name your moods. For me a dark mood is like being depressed or you feel down. You also fall in love for the first time and labeling that feeling can vary also from culture to culture. But no matter what, the first time is purer than the ones that come afterwards. It just wells up in you, unannounced and pushes you down or up the roller-coaster. And ones you’ve been down that track a couple of times you know where the bends are and the sudden drops. You probably even recognize the entrance of that particular ride when you see it in the distances on your path.

Surge

From darkness recess

wild colors surge and explode

to drown it all out.

But in this Haiku from Day 799 the word recess not only mean vacation, but also alcove or corner. Your mood is not only coming back from vacation but “wild colors surge and explode” also from its hiding place. Not all people that have a jolly disposition have a dark layer, and not all grumpy people are telling secretly jokes at home, but some people grow colorful flowers out of their dark soil and let the sun force its roots to go deeper into the darkness of that same soil.

The reason why some people are not satisfied with there mood and feel that they have to contrast it is unknown to me. It has probably something to do with your temperament, maybe you are curious or easily bored and that compels you “to drown it all out”. To go look for the sun, paint something colorful or tell a joke to outshine your dark mood.

But no matter what, you see the world in a different, harsher light when it is dark inside, for on that moment you can not see yourself inside and thus, see the world without you and your judgement’s.