Wednesday, October 19, 2005


Here's a post I've been writing for the last several weeks. writing some sentences, here and there, collecting an mixing time segments. finally i managed to edit them into a whole post but it was deleted here somhow and i collected it again, so i hope it's okay...

'm walking along the street with Milky, my female dog and playing "The Picture of Dorian Grey" (audio book) by Oscar Wilde, smiling to myself when i stumble upon one of Wilde's witty and beautiful language pearls. he is truly a master of words.
earlier today i was invited to a family dinner at my aunt. i couldn't avoid my urge to unite that audio book universe with my boring existence. all along the dinner i looked at people attending the dinner, describing them to myself in my head, in that special way people are described in the book. especially at those fancy dinners Dorian grey used to attend. nevertheless, i couldn't arm myself with that cynical and ruthless way Oscar Wilde (or lord Henry) so perfectly describe people. i took an active part of the conversation, dropping pearls and sentences as though they written by lord Henry himself (again, minus the cynical seasonings).

overall, going to those dinners is somehow okay, though i rather be somewhere else. i guess it's a state of mind I'm in lately. suddenly, beyond the corner i see some people i recognize. they were old friends, whom i left so hastily back in the end of junior high, at the brink of puberty and pain. a man makes a move in his life. good moves make a short glory, but bad moves stick on you for a lifetime. this false move will accompany me through the lonesome high school days.
naturally, i was quite surprised. i would rather avoid this meeting. it's too painful, to see that I'm all alone and they have each other, and that i ran away and took friendship like these for granted. the first word that came out of my mouth was "all of you", like it was an ambush planned by my past. we started the casual "Hi, Bye" conversation. they asked and i said all is well, and then said i should be going. and so i left them.i felt humiliated, as though i haven't managed to get better, to show I've changed and I'm better. i failed to lose weight or show any significance of change. i felt small, fat, alone, childish, stupid. all those emotions came back to me. all the way walking in a laid back and satisfied way, as though to convince myself and perhaps them if they watched, that everything is okay. curving my lips to a forced and crocked smile, posing on an overall expression and body language of a happy and laid back man, with no worries.
a few minutes ago i was enjoying myself and smiling, but now my smile is fake, my skin is shivering as though I'm frozen, and my ears heavy and deaf. i turned the mp3 player off, walking with my dog to other routes to avoid meeting them again, and opening my eyes, should i spot this group at the end of a street.
later i came back home. i really love walking with my dog. that way i can really enjoy being in nature and alone and with her, away from the confinement of my house.

i played a wonderful movie on the DVD called "Finding Neverland" and i enjoyed it so much.Milky is sleeping besides my legs on the couch stool. i caress her and hug her, and then i kiss her on her Little brown head. i shed tears when i watched that movie, again and again. it has parts that are like my life. in similarity to the movie, people call me detached and a "floater". i float with my mind to fantastic realms because reality isn't that interesting sometimes.
i feel as lucky to be aware of that sensitive side and learning to live with it and be proud of it. there's a blooming bud inside of me, and he takes much time, but slowly its blooming and i understand more about myself. i feel exited and very emotional when i see signs that talk to my innocence, my childhood. it could be a teddy bear or a legend or a lost children's poem from the past. it makes me emotional. i feel exited and very emotional when i see something that talks to me in a pure emotional way.

i recently remembered one poem from my childhood, and was stunned to it's similarity to my present status and the my lost ability to enjoy parties. it's called "Be'arugat Hagina" ("in the Garden's Flowerbed') by one of Israel's most respected poets, Chaim Nachman Bialik. i made a rough translation of that poem that was a part of my childhood:

In the Garden's Flowerbed, around the barrel,
a Cabbage and a cauliflower were about to dance.
the beetroot saw this, and so he joined
with him came Ms. tomato,
and joy grew!

(rough translation i said)

only the poor pea stood aside
leaned on his cane and never made a move
"how can cheer, how can i dance,
and all of my pods, they are all empty..

(I'll never make it as a translator, but i think you got the general idea)

lately, i had a dream where i changed a design of a certain feature inside a train. i was discussing ( in that dream) what is the best way to design that element and it changed in front of my eyes as i was inventing new ideas. one of the design was pretty similar to a lobby, designed by Antonio Gaudy.
I love his works, he's a real genius. i saw a TV program about him a day after that dream. funny, isn't it?
although he was very religious, and maybe because religion is a strong thing, i can just feel his life in his creation. he really embeds emotion into his works... those parts, where i can feel the strong emotions coming of any art, and triggering a deep emotional response in me. i understand what the artist "talked"about, or at least i understand what i feel, because an art piece can trigger different emotions and interpretations in different viewers, social conceptions, and time.


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