all new, all fresh

i'm one of those silly people who still make new year's resolutions. actually, i make resolutions several times a year, but never really succeed in fulfilling them. it's funny how they're always about the same issues, same things that seem to bother me since ever: becoming more productive and creative, overcoming some emotional bagagge, losing weight, getting a better job, trying harder at school, being truer to myself, living healthier... i guess these are the things most people worry about. does being unable to carry these promises out mean i'm not becoming a better person? i don't really think so. i think it just means i'm aware of my faults and i'm still learning to live with them. would i really be 'happier' if i managed to accomplish any of these things? in my opinion, a much bigger step towards the so-called happiness is being able to forgive myself for not meeting my own expectations. there now. i have spoken. :)

2013. a brand new, fresh, clean set of 365 days for us to fill with ourselves. quite the best new year's gift i could ever imagine.

the sound of music

lately, all my creative energy has been channeled into music and the band. i really can't tell you how sorry i am that i didn't get involved with music before. it amazes me to an extent where i can't really think about anything else, and luckily, i'm surrounded by perspective young musicians who keep on inspiring me. only yesterday, there was a major jam session going on at the place where our band usually practices, and it was so good to see (and hear) all these different people, who don't even necessarily know each other, make music together, communicating with rythms and vibes.

in this confused world, it finally feels right. it feels like the seventies. it feels like we could make a change.

i don't really want to wander away into writing a bunch of spiritually-oriented shit, but i can tell something's going on when the right tune is played.  if you've never played with a band, try it. really, try it :)

hangover

since this blog is organically becoming a personal poetry stash, here's another recent piece.

the hours we have abandoned
before the sun arose this morning
are creeping through the gaps
between our minutes. this time, they decided,
blush-faced and cold-handed,
they will not remain the guards
of what we yesterday called home. no,
they will take their toll on this
pale morning, when we fall out
of our beds like corpses.
the sequenced movement of
past night still echoes in our conscience.
our bodies betrayed us, they
grew old before we noticed
the blood stains on our linen.
now we stare, dead-eyed,
into the white of our windows,
as the hours gently squeeze us,
our mouths dry and our limbs trembling,
and every option of oblivion is
lost.