leiju - living, enjoying and simply being

Can achievement truly turn the sweet taste of trial into the bitter dumbness of done?

Once upon a time, barely a few days ago, my inner self was filled with the tingle of a future full of promise. Tonight, that space has been replaced by an old stale smell, the one that comes to live there where dead-end turns keep each other company.
The tears of effort that beat fruit have been turned to anxious memories of the illusion of potentiality, the fantasy of importance and the dream of advancement. The rip that had set itself as the promise of growth, evolution and perhaps even progress has been bandaged by the dawning memory of immutability.

Why do I keep churning the present?

We are the only specie able to negate our instincts.
We are also entering an era when religion, and beliefs, must enter the realm of rational argumentation rather than simple emotional stimuli.

This human animal I represent, fascinates me.
How intriguing to be able to consider oneself separated from the self. I often wonder whether we are the only animal able - or even willing! - to detach ourselves from our experience of the world. I become so consumed with my interpretation of events that they lose all meaning. From stimuli that could potentially affect my response, events happening outside my mind become so abstracted and loaded with internal questioning that they appear to have no effect.

So, who am I?
The person whom others perceive through their personal filters and subjective observations? Or the one that inhabits a mind within an apparently detached body, seemingly immobile in the face of targeted stimuli?
Or am I simple flesh too consumed with itself to allow a space for all that which spans outside of itself?

It's been too long since Descartes successfully formulated the basis to all western comprehension of the self: I think, therefore I am. I say too long because it seems no one has come along since to add that something that would allow us to step beyond such a self contained line of thought.

I do not like answering the question 'who are you' as I am unable to articulate - or even conceive of - a definition of my self. Yet I have been defined as having "a very strong sense of self."

What does that mean?

And in other terms... an FPIF take with Noam Chomsky.

Wow.

One moment my internal self is buried under a pile of emotional turmoil, past wounds hurrying around the re-torn cut as zombies around fresh flesh. Some minutes pass, I find a comfortable nest to sit in and write, and POOF, all of it is gone. The internal hurricane of chaos is gone, it has vanished, returned to the skies and left nothing but a still and bare landscape filled with a void and cruel sensation of Peace.

Neat.

I often use writing to clear out my head. I guess it's my internal chaos seeking some sort of arrangement in the form of words laid out on a page, no matter how virtual the latter might be. Recently, however, it seems that just settling down to write does the trick, leaving me gasping for the material that was spiralling in my head just a few seconds before.

I'm not quite sure yet, whether I like this or not.
I do most certainly enjoy the Peace that seems to wrap itself like a Gore-Tex membrane around my mind, yet I also recognise the pleasure I suck out of the emotional turmoil that leaks through.

My Life is boringly useless, yet I act as if it mattered.
I write, as if it changed anything.
I think, as if someone else was listening.
I Love, as if someone could comprehend.
I choose, as if it made any difference at all.

In reality none of it matters. At all.
My Life will be only as great as I make it out to be, for myself.
Those I know and come to spend Time with will vanish, just as I will, sooner or later.
My words, my actions, will have made no difference, even if some will choose to believe that some words and some actions matter more than others. In reality, nothing has any meaning beyond the one we choose to grant to whatever it is we are talking about.

We are on a small ball, lost in the middle (or side) of a vast endlessness we are unable to even truly capture in our wildest imagination. Whether we exist, or not, makes no difference in the greater scheme of things. For there is no greater scheme. We just are. That's it. That's all there is to any of anything.

I am God, just as You are, because I create my own Life, just as You do. I forge meaning there where none was to be found before, because that is what I compulsively do, human that I am. I fabricate stories and create intricate webs of emotions there where only atoms rule according to their own rules.

And it is truly Beautiful, no matter how meaningless.
Despite the burps of passion and emotional turmoil, despite the doubt and the desire to feel worthy of breathing the air I do, despite the endless internal as well as external changes that sway my Life, it is truly Beautiful, all this that is.


It is through the meaning I bestow upon my Life that my behaviour is influenced. It is through meaning that action spurs. These metaphysical questions are not merely a waste of time, but help define how I perceive the world and how I am to exist within it. It is through our perception, or attribution, of meaning that we choose to act or not to act - or define the quality of our in/action - in any given circumstance.

What is the meaning of your Life?
- or in other words, why do You do all that You do and leave undone all that, which You don't do?

Isn't it amazing how fleeting human emotions seem to be?
It's almost as if they went with the wind, from South to North, East to West, hot to cold, kind to cruel, and then round again.

Or is this a specificity of mine?
I doubt it.
But it could be.
It could be that I am unstable, easily swayed, rootless and unable to find stability in anything else but that hidden yet unconditional Love, there where I find refuge whenever my human Heart suffers too much.
It could also be that I have learned such tight and unbreakable patterns that they override my very volition to enjoy a quiet internal Life.

Who knows.

What I find most fascinating is my ability to turn cold. It's almost as if I had some internal switch that allowed me, thanks to even very little argumentation, to completely switch off from any feelings of care. They do creep back up after a while, after such a cold operation, yet usually in a much less potent format. There is a smooth detachment that appears, as a safe rift between my sense of Self and the raw emotions. It's a good detachment, as it allows for more sane relationships with those I care for, yet I still wonder where this all comes from.

Why do I have such raw and ravaging emotions bubbling beneath my skin?
How come I have such a hard time with closeness, when at the same time I would like to give myself wholly to whomever would desire me?
Do other people experience such a clear separation between knee-jerk and raw emotions and their attempt at appearing sane to the outside world?

At times I'm peaceful and collected, feeling almost unreachable, as if all these emotions were only far away cries from beyond the horizon. Then there are times when each word that hits my sensorial system can either make or break me, like a scalpel about to either save me or sabotage me.
What is it that pushes me over the edge from one side to the other?

When I give myself a lot of time to meditate or otherwise do physical activities (dancing around like a nut-case alone in my apartment does count), I usually manage to remain at Peace, and whatever whomever might toss my way barely even scratches the surface. It would then seem only reasonable to realise that when I fail to take care of my mental silence or physical activity, that I become engulfed in the passion of human emotions, but it is not so simple. It's as if there was a part in me that thinks the quiet and detached bliss is boring. So boring in fact that this part of me is happy to sabotage the internal harmony and Peace I have sometimes spent quite a while to get to.

But this continuous back and forth is starting to wear me out.
I'd like to swing and stay in that place of quiet detachment.

I have had the most amazing Life I can possibly imagine. I have seen so much, more than I would have ever dreamt of seeing; I have experienced so much, more than I could have ever dared to hope for; I have felt such a vast array of emotions, I don't know what could possibly left to be felt...

Life is Beautiful.
No matter the ugliness and destruction we, humans, are so busy spewing around, Life is Beautiful, truly.
And my Life has been, and still is, simply amazing.

I have only pure gratitude in my Heart for all that I have seen, experienced and felt during these 26 years.

Yet there obviously is something I still long for.
Why else would I still play such painful games with myself?
What do I still seek?
Clarity for all those things that still make no sense? Do I still yearn for some hardship? Perhaps I still yearn to learn how to remain detached, no matter the external stimuli?

Uncharted maps and change rock my boat more than workable answers pulled out of another's head.

The beauty in Life is the incessant potentiality for change. You can be a million different opinions about one single thing throughout the course of your Life. Even though we are unable to know for sure, is there any other creature upon the fine crust of this Planet that can constantly reinvent itself, like humans have the potential to?

I like the certainty of uncertainty, the fact that the only thing that never changes is the constancy of change, or at least its illusion. I would hate to be sure about something, to reach a conclusion about anything before the time of my death. Happiness is not the goal, happiness lies in the journey, in the fleeting moment, in the evasive nature of Life, in the bounty of points of views.

While some thrive on the attempt to keep up permanence, I dance in the Joy of change.

We come and exist. A space of pure thought. Our reality is only a fragment of our imagination. A space between things, we compose our reality by creating differences, by negating, by saying what something is not and how it is different from yet another particle of what we perceive.

Does the world exist without us, does it continue existing once we die?
What if, what if You are not real?
What if, what if I am alone?
What if it is all an Illusion, an intricate construction of my mind?

What if I wake up from this human dream and realise these are just layers of a deeper veil of polarity within a space and time continuum? What if my real Being is something totally different? What if I spend my time taking myself way too seriously, worrying about all that is, when none of it really is?

One day, I will die.
That day, and that day only, all will vanish.

My mind will be gone.
Or will it?

Perhaps it will simply melt into a different continuum, one I cannot perceive whilst I am stuck in this body. Perhaps it will simply stop and my molecules will regain their freedom and become one once again with their surrounding?

How do You undoubt things that You have learned to doubt?
How do You manage to bring Peace there where there are raging questions that just will not accept to be answered?
How do You find stability, and a footing to stand on, in absolute and pure uncertainty?

Why would any of that even be necessary?

I guess it belongs to the order of the day. When You are desperately trying to live without feeling attached to anything but still suffer from the whims of your internally unsatisfied doubts and needs. But why abandon oneself to those whims?
Because if I shut them out, I shut my screaming Heart into a cold-room.

Is it possible to Love without a needy Heart?
Can one bypass human attachment without letting the Heart bleed dry?

I know there's a trick.
I know it, because I've passed this Life quiz before.
I know it, because I've been there.
I know it, because I've pondered about it before, before realising that my mind is the only thing holding me back. It's pure logic that fails to support me, but rather, like a bamboo scaffolding, pretends to stand on its own, when in reality it's leaning on something far bigger than itself.

Oh Fuck!

It's like roller-coaster again. There's moments of intense Joy, moments of intense pain, moments of just plain Nothing.
It's funny to notice that I have come so far back from where I had managed to get myself to, barely two years ago. It was the trip to Asia last year that made me retreat into some sort of a shell filled with waves of insanity.

One moment I feel like a child, completely taken over by her emotions, barely able to think coherently about anything, barely able to contain herself and the amount of everything that pours in and out of her Self. Then a sudden shift, within seconds, when I calm down, come back down to a more rational Self, a more quiet version of who I am, the grown up persona. I smile, discreetly, wondering why I become so emotional and what needs of mine still hasn't been fully understood and/or fulfilled; what stage of infancy have I remained stuck to.
And ka-pow! Then enters the serene me, the Peaceful, Loving me, detached from this world, floating on a spiritual plane of pure Existence and Love. I smile, laugh even, at the little human being that fights and fights and tries to keep herself miserable and in doubt, for some greater human cause - such as the eternal need for valuable doubt and human growth.

Ah, the three characters of I.

The three parts sometimes interlock in internal battles of logic. The problem with this being that all three agree upon most issues internally, but deal with external issues rather differently. The fundamental core issue all three are unanimous on is that without such a diversity of experiences, Life can become quite fucking boring.

While the first self (the overly emotional one) is a painful I to be encapsulated in, she serves a great human experience, filled with all those emotions people sing, paint and write about. I have recently come to understand a great variety of art and feelings, that had previously eluded me, thanks to the presence of the jolly weeping Julia.
She does get onto my nerves after a while though.

The second part of me is quite cold and calculating. She doesn't seem to always experience feelings of any sort. Only pure rationale to feed her bones. But this I is a bridge over from the first to the third version of this human Self that I experience. It's thanks to her that I have reached amazing insights into a superbly vast array of issues - ranging from economics to enlightenment.

The third me IS.

The trouble at the moment is that the three parts do not always quite manifest themselves as clearly as I would like them to. Sometimes I say, or write, things believing I am acting from a rational or spiritual centre of myself when in reality it's a needy and uncertain Julia that carries the action forth. This puts me in embarrassing situations. And fills me with discomfort and somewhat disturbing pain.

Barely two years ago, I had managed to bring the three parts much closer together and nearer to harmony. All three managed to cohabit and not fight so much. I had more clarity within my Head, Heart and Soul. Now it's a shackles or mix and unmatch. In a way, I miss the Serenity that came with that state... but now I am enthused by the amount of ideas that bubble within me. I'm quite certain I won't get much done of all those ideas that envelope my brain, blood pump and cells, but I still enjoy the feeling of enthusiasm this internal chaos is bringing forth.

"Are You happy?" You asked, one night, as we randomly browsed the paths that crisscross Helsinki. How could I possibly answer? My mouth went numb, my mind overloaded with questions as to what You were really asking and whether I could ever find a truthful answer to that question.

"Yes... and no," I hesitated, as if all of Life could be explained in three simple words unfairly juxtaposed in a sentence unworthy of such a qualification.

What is happiness? How could You quantify what happiness is? Is there a universal formula that would allow people to determine whether they are happy or not? How can any person truly answer such a subjective question and still truthfully convey their internal state of happiness to another Being that is wrapped up in their own subjective measures of everything?

How are You?
You can answer by adjectives, adverbs, verbs, nouns, titles, whatever. An open question that leaves room for whatever the other person might feel like saying at that very Moment.

Are You Julia? - yes.
Are You sad? - I would like to think I'm not. But sometimes I do feel sadness.
Are You funny? - some people think I am. Others consider me pathetic.
Are You alive? - yes, I would like to think I am.
Are You sociable? - to a certain degree, yes.

Are You happy?

There are so many things we are, or are not, that can be defined through other people's perception of, and reactions as to, who we are. But when it comes to happiness...

Another night, You asked me again. This time I wanted to know how You defined happiness, but You refused to quantify it with other words. What do You really want to know?

How are You?
We ask each other such a mundane question day in, day out, yet do we really even stop to listen to each other? Do we even expect other people to really answer the question? Do we just go about throwing random questions across the rooms we cross so that we may feel like we are part of the society we so dearly long to belong to? Do we really ever take the time to care?

Are You Happy?

Gross National Happiness.
What a strike of genius! The former Bhutanese king hit the world on the head and laughed out loud at the face of our ever-so important capitalism, as he decided not to invest in the country's Gross National Product, but rather GN Happiness. He defined it through rather simple questions that relied on people's ability to quantify their subjective experiences relating to their lives, as lived within a given society and its rules. Thanks to, or perhaps because of this, the King decided to remove the country's only traffic lights. The cold red, orange and green were replaced by a traffic policeman, and the GNH took a leap upwards.

I'd probably experience a lot more of happiness, if I were able to live in a world where leaders took time to care about the world's GNH rather than GNP. I'd probably experience more happiness, if people expressed more compassion towards each other. I'd probably experience more happiness, if we were more honest to one another, if our lives were ruled by Love rather than money, if our future was not as important as the present, if humans learned to open up and become aware of themselves as well as others, if homo sapiens took time to listen and not only preach, if this Earth turned to the beat of our Hearts and not only to the crack of our logic.

Am I happy?

When I dance around in my apartment, in the fading golden sunlight - yes, I am.
When I sing out aloud in the car to old Finnish pop-songs - yes, I am.
When I look into the eyes of children - yes, I am.
When I say whatever is on my mind without being afraid - yes, I am.
When I feel understood - yes, I am.
When my mind expands by learning new thoughts, points of views - yes, I am.
When I sleep - yes, I am.
When I abandon myself to words - yes, I am.
When I remember all the Moments that took me to unmapped lands - yes, I am.
When I hug You - yes, I am.

Am I happy?

Do I need to be? How could I box myself as being happy? Would I want to be?
I am filled with Joy, just as I am filled with questions and doubts.
I am filled with Love, just as I am filled with fear and an uncanny unwillingness to let go of past traumas.
I am filled with Peace, just as I am filled with all the world's wars, fights, murders, rapes, injustices, pain and suffering.

I am happy, just as I am unhappy.

Ask me once more, and You might perhaps understand my hesitation a bit better, as I attempt to explain the whole world in three simple words unfairly juxtaposed in a sentence unworthy of such a qualification.

It's like a piece of a puzzle that I thought had been lost, or never even there, but that has appeared, right here, in front of me. A piece I thought I would have to go searching for through mountains, valleys and rivers, across seas, oceans and deserts. A piece that has laid dormant, just waiting for me to grow enough to be able to recognize it and embrace its existence.

It feels as if though that part of me that had grown silently sad at the thought of never being able to fully share who I am with anyone who could ever really comprehend, was finally proven wrong, and released from its own prison. Suddenly I feel like I belong somewhere on this Earth, that there are people who feel like friends, no matter how often I have the possibility to see them or even talk to them; their presence on this Earth is enough of a comfort for me.

Suddenly there are more than just those I have grown accustomed to, those that I dearly Love yet cannot fully feel myself with. Suddenly there is a place on this Earth where I feel at home, no matter how rarely I get to visit. Suddenly I feel comfortable being alive on this Earth, comfortable sharing my discomfort and doubts.

Perhaps I had already learned to be part of Finland before we left, and before my entire existence shifted to a whole different world of culture, beliefs, social rules. I thought I could never be fully Finnish, nor completely anything else either. I have always felt lonely with my strange beliefs, morals and patterns of behavior. I have always felt out of place, out of the very system that keeps us humans stuck together within sub-groups, regional packs and national borders.

And suddenly, a few days ago, I felt myself blossom within, waking up from a long hibernation, fully awake, aware and happy in that winter darkness that wraps its freezing arms around Finland for months every year.

Helsinki has changed.
People have grown out of their cocoon.
Finland is embracing its new identity that, perhaps, was simply laying dormant all these years, waiting for the right moment to bloom.

And now I miss it.
I miss its songs, its culture, its people, its weather, food, ideas, utopias.

Perhaps, just perhaps, one day I will choose to return to the land I was born in.
Perhaps, just perhaps, I will return to that place I left only to be able to better find it - my home.

I haven't had Internet, let alone a landline, for already some while. It's fun to notice how much simpler the world gets once there's no source of news flowing into your daily space. I have no TV - I cut the cord to the only one I ever possessed about seven years ago - and the Internet is usually my only streamline to whatever might be going on in the world. I receive no newspapers, no magazines, and I only listen to the radio when in the car.

It seems, to me, that our lives have become entangled to the rest of the world through our constant access to information and news. Our lives have transformed from simple local experiences to truly international existences filled with images of celebrities as well as starving children in "third world" countries. We swap effortlessly - sometimes way too easily - from one topic to the next, used to the news format that juxtaposes extreme suffering and violence with 5-day weather forecasts.

So, amidst my serene and cut-off existence, between the quiet walls of my apartment, I was shocked to learn that violence was exploding in India. Bombs, murders, fires, all of that and more. Hundreds of injured and up to 100 dead. All that, while I was quietly minding my own business, laughing out loud and dancing around as the sun set my apartment alight with golden and orange hues, as it set, as it does every night.

What an age, our dear information age! There is so much to know, so much to boggle our mind with, so much to distract us, so much to wear us down and make our lives seem unnecessarily pitiful, so much to wash our brains with, be it these or those ideologies - usually the most fanatic ones (i.e. rampant consumerism) are the easiest to digest and adapt to, or so it seems. Yet pick any one single "civilized" person from a "developed" country and drop them into, say, the middle of Mongolia or Iceland and you will see them wither away and probably die.

In an age where knowledge seems key, we have forgotten the basics needed to survive: how to orient ourselves, how to find food, water, shelter, how to manage extreme landscapes or weather changes, how to handle not knowing all of what's on today's RSS news feed. Or perhaps more precisely, how to handle living without the illusion of the security net we have so carefully crafted ourselves, thanks to our cities, running water and plentiful supermarkets, jobs, families et al.

For a long time I dreamed of forming some sort of terrorist group that would kidnap leaders and place them in desert landscapes (with a slight personal preference for Iceland, due to the abundance of fresh water) for a certain number of days. An elite team of people would then supervise them, making sure they would not get into too much trouble, and at the same time would record all of what they would get up to.

We are so pampered in our developed cities that we don't even know what leadership is about anymore. It used to be about being able to manage a pack, about being able to make decisions that would profit the whole, rather than just a few. By being able to show extremely good survival skills, one could lead groups of people out of trouble and hence insure the survival of the specie. Nowadays leadership seems to be determined by one's ability to back-stab and lie, neither of which qualities has ever been much of a help to any group of beings.

In my silent desires for a better world, I hoped that we, humans, could get back to the values that have left us monopolizing out ever-shrinking Planet. And I just happened to fantasize about our dear political leaders being forced to a wake up call imposed upon them only by Nature and their own decisions. But alas, I don't think I'll ever pull such an organization together. It would take highly skilled and loyal people, loads of planning and even more discretion.

As I sit in my quiet apartment, cut-off from the world, I realize that I've left my mind to dream of a better world again. Strange to be aware of the fact that what would make my world a better place, would probably be considered fanaticism by most of my fellow humans - especially those happy to quietly consume and wither away, while they shoot up on news that serve no greater purpose than to immobilize their patterns of thinking and emotional responses to whatever might seem like external threats.

Luckily, however, I don't feel alone anymore.
Nowadays I just feel blessed to know the beautiful people I know.

I Love You.
Thank You for Being.

Yum yum yuminess :)

Found this while scrolling through past entries and their comments :D
We are indeed a truly strange bunch of monkeys...

I wonder what makes people fall in Love?
Is it something your significant other did? Something they said?
Or is it simply who they are? ... But how do You define who someone is? Is it the traits of their personality? Their actions? And what part of this do we take into account when letting our emotions run rampant?

A long time ago, I took a hard line when I decided to espouse an existentialist point of view about Life. What drew me most to it was the power it gives the subjective human experience of the Self. We choose our existence and our experience thereof. It leaves us face to face with the total and absolute responsibility as to who we decide to be and act as in our lifetime, as well as what we decide to believe in, think about, and, most controversially, feel.

I was psyched out, as psyched out as one could be, when I realized that my Life became much more intense once I started living out according to this existential philosophy. If I did not want to do something, instead of letting myself wallow in excuses my weak self had forged, I did exactly that. Shortly thereafter, I enjoyed a great excess of energy and will to do whatever I set my mind to.

What I also enjoyed a lot, and the term most students in the class had a hard time with, was the concept of mauvaise foi. I actually made it one of the main pillars of my presentation.

I guess we all take on somewhat of a main theme in our lives, whether consciously or not, and deal with it throughout our short existence. The theme can change, of course, as we are not immutable pieces of furniture but, rather, a multitude of experiences hung together on a string so often called self. Who I am today is disturbingly different from who I used to be 10 years - or minutes - ago (while also remaining exactly the same). And each one of these experiences of the self, in each Now, has the chance to choose as it pleases when it comes to what I do, say, how I act or feel. Of course there are a number of variables that enter into the game, but I'll try to keep the whole picture as simple as possible to boil out a fundamental question that is now twittering in my mind.

And the theme that runs rampant in my mind, and that seems to color my view of the world, is bad faith - mauvaise foi, or also called self-deception. It is something that pokes me in the eye when I watch people interact. It's something that drives me up the wall, internally, as I listen to people complain about the situations they find themselves in. It's that signal that flickers on and off within my mind whenever I notice that I feel forced to act in one or the other way about my Life. It's what seems to have started to dictate my relationships and my eagerness to either keep or break distance from people.
It's something that most people like to call honesty.

The other theme I seem to be stuck with is that of Love. Not so much the romantic kind of love, as that one usually goes straight down the hall of fame of gloriously well tended bad faith, but the Unconditional kind - the one that hurts, because it's both terrifyingly honest and generous at the same time.

Now, I know that a great deal of people will choose to enter relationships, and stay in them, for sakes that are perfectly reasonable - secure shelter, guaranteed offspring, potential wealth, sense of safety, and whatever else You may need. However, those are, for me, not true cases of Love. For me - and I am not trying to pass judgement on people, rather just exploring argumentation - that is, at best, romantic love, or perhaps even simply forcing oneself to become used to a particular situation in order to remain sane and seemingly comfortable. I am not surprised that a lot of people will settle for even just about ok relationships, if the potential level of comfort or sense of security (that often comes from patterns learned from childhood and not always necessarily beneficial to the growth of any given individual) seems to be guaranteed - if there is a sense of stability in the current situation. This is not what I am wondering about.

What I truly question, and what still shuts my mind is: why do people fall in Love?

While my logical self cannot fathom the true concept of Unconditional Love, my Heart has a very particular feel to it and is, in all honesty, quite well acquainted with it. The same teacher that opened my eyes to existentialism also told me one day that I "should hurry up and have babies. You have too much Love to give! You are going to suffocate and drive away people around yourself." His voice still echoes in my ears when I seem to burst with Love when with people, forcing me to withhold the impulses I have to hug and kiss so many of those around me. It's also his voice that reminds me to stop throwing myself at those I have deep feelings for, for it seems that I have developed a slight fear of repulsion due to inadvertent extroversion of my Love. I try to contain myself in order to not spill over and overwhelm those I care for.

What fascinates me is why people feel Love for me, even though, on many occasions, I share very little of myself. In fact, sometimes I have shared so little of myself that I have been told that I have a heart of stone and that I am emotionally autistic. Yet, it is often those that know the least about me, that seem to profess the greatest and most bizarrely devout Love towards who I am. But what does that mean? Who do these people really feel love towards? And what kind of love is it? And what drives so many to tell me that I am unusual? And why? Or is it simply a strange mix of childhood issues that seems to spring up and manifest itself as a myriad of emotions people interpret as love?

I seem, however, to have come to understand a fundamental part of what makes me feel in Love with another Being. It has taken years, but the basis of it is starting to clear out and become palpable.

In a world where I am myself lost in all the connotations and terms we all use without great care; in a world where I find it hard to settle down onto any defined definition of anything; in a world where the certainty of uncertainty is one of the only constants; in a world where there are as many Truths as there are people, there is one thing that will make me go wild and weak: if You can understand me. It's not just about understanding the silly word games I play and the conceptual tongue twisters I like to indulge in, but being able to follow as well as precede and expand my inner world of thought. Not only that, but also understand the Love I feel, share and so often lose myself in, and the freedom that comes along with it.

... and then, there are some that do all of the above, and even more.
And that's when it becomes frightening.
That's when the socially constructed myths that keep our dysfunctional societies running start to fight against the endless space of deep and quiet Love that inhabits me.
That's when the logical part of my brain starts wondering what makes people fall in Love...

I have taken up many projects in my Life, and fulfilled only those that were academically required. This, in my opinion, makes me a total failure. I have started a few books and decided to leave them at their fourth, 15th or even 30th page, just because I felt there was no point in me trying to pretend I was being interesting anymore.

I have had many artistic and even business projects bubble and boil deep within me, keeping me up for nights or weeks, yet have, until now, failed to make any of them become reality. I suspect the mix of scepticism and need for project oriented partners is what has largely kept me at this stage. It seems that I do not want to need other people yet at the same time I know that I do need them if I am to ever get anything done. An annoying trait of mine that serves no purpose other than annoy me.

I have been thinking of pouring my attention into a more intimate and private matter as of late. I would like to let myself get closer to parts of me I have been very good at dodging. Maybe this return to past experiences will turn into something more consistent than any body of writing I have done until now, but considering that I am actually writing about it on this public forum, it's more than pretty damn sure that I'll never get to anything of the sort. It would be nice if I could finally get myself to sit down and actually finish something I start.

I was thinking of delving into past relationships, because that's where it is easy to spot a lot of things that truly matter. Or at least, I like to think that when we interact with people, we bring about parts of ourselves that make up who we are. When we are confined to solitude, especially within our own minds, we can come up with a million different truths as to who we think we are, yet open yourself up to someone and You will see yourself flourish, or falter, in totally unexpected ways...

I've been wondering whether I should concentrate on one single relationship or whether a collection would be a better option. If it were the latter, then parts of it would read something like this:

You asked me whether knowing that we would never see again would take the Moment away from me. I knew that any answer I could give You was the wrong one. I hesitated for a long time. I didn't want to answer, because I knew that You had already decided, and that any answer I would give You would only serve to justify your decision.

You would choose to never see me again.

Despite the unbelievable wonder of the situation, You had already chosen that this would be it, that You would never let it become anything else. You would rather see that Moment remain as Perfect as any Moment could ever be, rather than let it slip into just another relationship, no matter how extraordinary.

Or perhaps You feared, as I did, that this extraordinary would turn ordinary with time. Like a beautiful new clock, proudly hung on the wall for all to see, that, after years of service, would come to be ignored and taken for granted, even though it stood the test of time.

As You walked out of the door, I could not even bring myself to cry.
I had already felt the poison of my resignation to your decision enter me as I lay next to You, trying to force myself to answer your question.

It hurt, like not many things or Moments or words ever have. Like a metallic flow of pain deep inside each cavity of my Being. I was giving up because I knew fighting for a potential us would automatically force me to fight myself as well.

How can two people so desirous to be understood turn down the very person that understands them?

It's complete bullshit. Both of us are so busy keeping ourselves from being happy. Neither of us wants to surrender to the desire to not be alone because it makes us feel weak and vulnerable. It frightens me to think that someone could make me feel so good. It frightens me because it makes me feel dependent and I know what that brings: pain, anger, jealousy.

There are no words for the comfort and sheer goodness I felt, last night, with You. Not only as we lay in bed, huddled together in a hug that was more intimate than any portion of intercourse I have ever experienced, but from the very Moment we met. It felt as if I'd always known You.

You talked about yourself, but it was just a front to keep me away from what was really going on inside You. Perhaps it's your way of keeping up a barrier: being open and intimate about what is going on in your head, to keep people from getting too close to your Heart. I know I certainly do that when I write. I t keeps me from talking to people. It gives me the illusion of sorting things out when in reality I am simply fulfilling my need for conversation by supplying a chain of words to a non responsive audience. I do get feedback, but it's not really human. It's just words on a screen.

I could scream and shout and tell You that I Love You, but it would be of no help. I can turn a cold shoulder and pretend You do not exist anymore, besides for that Moment we perhaps shared at some random point in time and space. I might simply silently hold You dear in my Heart for now on until my death, quietly wishing I could have consumed my passion for You more than countless times. No matter what I do, it will be to no avail. You have marked me, as I feared You would, that night, when I lied to You.

You said I had given You more than anyone else ever had, in your entire Life. You said that I had granted You the illusion of not being alone. I cried, muffling my tears onto the pillow, feeling You had hit the nail on its head. You had voiced out exactly how I felt as we spent time together, and as I let You penetrate my mind and soul.

Each part of your Being, each part of who You are, each inch of your skin feels and smells exactly like what I have always dreamt of. You seem like an impossible composition of all those things I secretly wish for. You came into my Life and solidified as something I had never dared to hope, yet had always been on the lookout for. You gave me a Moment that felt like blissful eternity, free of all weight, free of all pain, and endlessly harmonious.

But You gave me something different as well. You gave me a weight to carry. A desire that I will live to never see fulfilled.

You did not rob me of the Moment we spent together, but rather, You robbed me of my Heart. And I doubt I ever want it back.

Hello, Chicago.

If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible, who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time, who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

It's the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen, by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different, that their voices could be that difference.

It's the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled. Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been just a collection of individuals or a collection of red states and blue states.

We are, and always will be, the United States of America.

It's the answer that led those who've been told for so long by so many to be cynical and fearful and doubtful about what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.

It's been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this date in this election at this defining moment change has come to America.

A little bit earlier this evening, I received an extraordinarily gracious call from Sen. McCain.

Sen. McCain fought long and hard in this campaign. And he's fought even longer and harder for the country that he loves. He has endured sacrifices for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine. We are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selfless leader.

I congratulate him; I congratulate Gov. Palin for all that they've achieved. And I look forward to working with them to renew this nation's promise in the months ahead.

I want to thank my partner in this journey, a man who campaigned from his heart, and spoke for the men and women he grew up with on the streets of Scranton and rode with on the train home to Delaware, the vice president-elect of the United States, Joe Biden.

And I would not be standing here tonight without the unyielding support of my best friend for the last 16 years the rock of our family, the love of my life, the nation's next first lady Michelle Obama.

Sasha and Malia I love you both more than you can imagine. And you have earned the new puppy that's coming with us to the new White House.

And while she's no longer with us, I know my grandmother's watching, along with the family that made me who I am. I miss them tonight. I know that my debt to them is beyond measure.

To my sister Maya, my sister Alma, all my other brothers and sisters, thank you so much for all the support that you've given me. I am grateful to them.

And to my campaign manager, David Plouffe, the unsung hero of this campaign, who built the best -- the best political campaign, I think, in the history of the United States of America.

To my chief strategist David Axelrod who's been a partner with me every step of the way.

To the best campaign team ever assembled in the history of politics you made this happen, and I am forever grateful for what you've sacrificed to get it done.

But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to. It belongs to you. It belongs to you.

I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didn't start with much money or many endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington. It began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston. It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give $5 and $10 and $20 to the cause.

It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation's apathy who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep.

It drew strength from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on doors of perfect strangers, and from the millions of Americans who volunteered and organized and proved that more than two centuries later a government of the people, by the people, and for the people has not perished from the Earth.

This is your victory.

And I know you didn't do this just to win an election. And I know you didn't do it for me.

You did it because you understand the enormity of the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the challenges that tomorrow will bring are the greatest of our lifetime -- two wars, a planet in peril, the worst financial crisis in a century.

Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking up in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives for us.

There are mothers and fathers who will lie awake after the children fall asleep and wonder how they'll make the mortgage or pay their doctors' bills or save enough for their child's college education.

There's new energy to harness, new jobs to be created, new schools to build, and threats to meet, alliances to repair.

The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even in one term. But, America, I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there.

I promise you, we as a people will get there.

There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won't agree with every decision or policy I make as president. And we know the government can't solve every problem.

But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And, above all, I will ask you to join in the work of remaking this nation, the only way it's been done in America for 221 years -- block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand.

What began 21 months ago in the depths of winter cannot end on this autumn night.

This victory alone is not the change we seek. It is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were.

It can't happen without you, without a new spirit of service, a new spirit of sacrifice.

So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism, of responsibility, where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves but each other.

Let us remember that, if this financial crisis taught us anything, it's that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers.

In this country, we rise or fall as one nation, as one people. Let's resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long.

Let's remember that it was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House, a party founded on the values of self-reliance and individual liberty and national unity.

Those are values that we all share. And while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress.

As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, we are not enemies but friends. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.

And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn, I may not have won your vote tonight, but I hear your voices. I need your help. And I will be your president, too.

And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces, to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of the world, our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand.

To those -- to those who would tear the world down: We will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security: We support you. And to all those who have wondered if America's beacon still burns as bright: Tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity and unyielding hope.

That's the true genius of America: that America can change. Our union can be perfected. What we've already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.

This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that's on my mind tonight's about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. She's a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election except for one thing: Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.

She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldn't vote for two reasons -- because she was a woman and because of the color of her skin.

And tonight, I think about all that she's seen throughout her century in America -- the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can't, and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes we can.

At a time when women's voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes we can.

When there was despair in the dust bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs, a new sense of common purpose. Yes we can.

When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes we can.

She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma, and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that "We Shall Overcome." Yes we can.

A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination.

And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change.

Yes we can.

America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves -- if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?

This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment.

This is our time, to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth, that, out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope. And where we are met with cynicism and doubts and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes, we can.

Thank you. God bless you. And may God bless the United States of America.

This is the transcript of President Barack Obama's victory speech...

It is way too early - or too late, depending on what time zone you are taking into account - yet the thought of Obama actually winning, of actually becoming the next president is... beyond words.

It's a bit like Lordi winning the Eurovision Song Contest - except that this time around it's not just about opening a new direction for the cheesiest of bimbo-run song contests, but actually this could be the beginning of a new era, the end of a spiralling free-fall towards Hell on Earth.

The sheer Joy and positive energy of Hope that seem to carry the crowds gathered around the central park in Chicago, send tears to my eyes. Could it be that we are finally moving forward, as a specie?

How amazing... How utterly mad it is, that in a country that proclaims itself as the greatest on Earth and as the defender of freedom and democracy, it can take up to 4 hours (or more!) to cast a vote...

It seems that the system itself is working against the basic tenets of democracy. Due to the very mechanism of the voting system many will be discouraged and some incapacitated from the essential rule of democracy: that all eligible people have the right to vote. By putting barriers - such as controlling the flow of voters and making overseas voting extremely complicated - and removing traceability - by enforcing electronic voting machines (owned by which company?) - the United States government hampers the basic process of democracy within its nation's borders.

... and still the government in question allows itself to stampede upon sovereign nations, claiming to be the bringer of freedom and democracy. Yeah, don't do as I do, just do as I say, right?


And for those that haven't thought of it: I sincerely wish that the US of A would open voting to all members of the human race. After all, who runs the White House pretty much determines the future of this Planet. Would You like to donate your vote? I'm sure many around this globe would be willing to buy your voice... especially those stuck under the rule of the US army in Iraq and Afghanistan.