Looking back I don't really like my first post now, but as it was the only thing I could write over the last days I'll leave it where it is. Maybe I'll even post what I feel at a given moment more often. We'll see.
Today I want to post what should have been my first post. My mood as I'm writing this differs somewhat from when I wrote my first draft of this post so it may read a little bit whacky. The inherent message however is the same, so please bear with me.
I'm not going to share my story here, not because I do not want to but rather because it is nothing special considering the bigger picture and because it is not important to me. If you want to read a sad story pick up a book or a newspaper. There's many of us and more are joining the ranks every day.
My life has taught me that the world isn't fair and that people aren't nice. True, just as there are exceptions to every rule there are in fact some nice people out there and sometimes for some people everything turns out alright. Not for me though and not for too many others.
The things I've been through may define me but by and large I have the feeling that my life isn't defined by me. Then again, maybe it is and I just don't try hard enough. Free will is a topic for another day tho, today I just want to present how my life feels most of the time and I couldn't verbalize it better than someone else already did. I hope you enjoy a piece of poetry...
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
- Hamlet, act three, scene one; by William Shakespeare
To think that those words have been written 400 years ago boggles my mind sometimes and calms me at other times. Some days when I feel particularly disconnected from mankind, words like these remind me that others feel as I do. It doesn't even matter that Shakespeare died 400 years ago because to know that another human being can feel like I do is enough to make me feel a bit less anxious.
Music performs a similar task in my life and what I'm listening to always has to resonate with how I feel at a given moment. Somehow art calms my somewhat stormy emotional landscape but then again, maybe that's what it's supposed to do.
When I feel down and blue there are two songs that I particularly enjoy listening to. "Lonely Day" - by System of a Down and Limp Bizkit's cover of "Behind Blue Eyes" (youtube has good versions of either).
I'm listening to the latter song at the moment and am going to leave you with this piece of music. I need a smoke. cya