Friday, July 27, 2007


I think too much. Whenever a feeling strikes me, I cannot but hold it... my childish hands dissect it like the not-so-nice boys in your class used to dissect flies and insects. I see every little thing this feeling is made up of and name it... I throw myself into analyzing and baptizing with the indulgence of a 21th century Diderot/Linneaus-wannabe... But whatever I call them, feelings are just feelings.

No name I make up could ever make the feelings stay or go. The feelings don't listen to my home made Harry Potter spells but lingerson... We all know it: the only answer to feelings, especially those of insecurity, is human company. The warmth of another body, and the scent of another another human being breathing next to you. A hand through your hair, or a cup of hot chocolate prepared by these same very hands.

Nothing else will ever help, but I keep on giving names and labelling what I see. It's an act of control of course... and not very buddhist at all. And when I long too much for that hand in my hair I show the world all these names I've made up. If they don't understand... who am I to blame them?


Evert said...

A long life with working with people with all kinds of problems, have taught me, that if you take up your thoughts and try to discover, maybe with help of your own lyrics or music, you will reach a level of harmony and reconciliation.
Ingen kom så hel och ren till lyckans vardagssal
som den som var med sig själv allen i skakande kval wrote Dan(iel) Andersson.
Have a good time and develop your existential thoughts!

Anonymous said...

Thinking too much, or feeling too much is what i have always thought was my curse..However, who would i be without them? The perspective of a superficial existence terrifies me even more.And when someone's words makes me feel not so lonely, i feel almost happy..