Passing

Ah
Pic from the wall in St Getrudis, ibiza.

In Odessa.
Somehow might be difficult. Relationships.
But I’m clear. What happens happens.

Lovely place shamtambala, and lovely people. Specially yesterday we talked a lot with Grisha.
Mainly on these days when she’s been at crimea quest I’ve been watching Big Bang Theory. I enjoy it.
Other one that I watched with her is Parks and Recreation, good as well.

Days have been sunny, but today is cloudy and cold. Cold.

She is coming tomorrow and maybe nothing changes.

In all honesty nothing much has changed in my life when I look back all these years I’ve written this. Places change, people change, but my patterns stay the same. Although now, I’ve noticed that maybe some of them are slowly changing as well… Actually my patterns have changed all the time, not drastically but little enough.

Yesterday got a string on a guitar, played a little. Dicipline.

Watched appleseed, anime, entertaining, but bit silly and subs were not up the date.

Why i write?
I do not know.

Something that I said yesterday and have said before. You see, even though we are so clearly individuals it’s so difficult to realise that. But everything is individual. That’s why nothing is holy but everything is precious. Because this computer is just a thing, so old I would like to replace it with new thing, yet, it is this computer, it’s not some other. It precious. Maybe someone can make a copy, so that you could not know the difference, but there is a difference. And then when we talk about living things. A pine is a pine, it’s just like all the other pines around it, yet, it is that pine, none other, it might seem as replaceable but it is not, it is what it is, nothing else, nothing can replace it. If it’s used by some action, maybe some other can replace it in this action. But it can’t replace it, as such.
Again this is what Giorgio Agamben writes in this book (read it) I’ve mentioned so many times.
Nothing is replaceable.

We think that there is choices, chances, possibilities. And in a way there is, but, all of them are imaginary. I got this from Katja’s and Asaf class on ibiza spring jam. We were walking in curves, and then Asaf asked us to imagine the straight line that we could walk, but we stay walking in curves. Exactly. The straight line is imaginary, in time and in space, I can always think that I had a choice to walk the straight line and thus I would be in a different space on this time, but it is still imaginary. I am where I am, and I can’t know where I will be until I am there. At the same time this imaginary chance, or other, makes my choice and my place clearer, I am here,I am not there, I am here because, I’m not there because.
On one discussion my friend was talking about models of life, you know, family vs, travelling steady job vs. little bit everything etc. We can think that IF I would have chosen that it would lead me to this “model” but the models are imaginary. We can take 4 middle class family with 2 children and look at their daily life for a while, yes there probably is lot of similarities, but it is not the same, similarities doesn’t make it the same. It’s our lack of concentration and detail and a need to “grasp it” that makes them the same. And actually if we look little further, all human life is pretty much the same. Yet, everything is individual. No one else is here right now, countryside close to Odessa, in a cool little room writing this text on a computer that lies on a yellow bag. It is singularity. Single moment in time and space. It exist because all the others exists. It is the same moment, it is the same space. How do you divide the space?

Yet, I keep comparing me, the abstract me (dancer, male, old, finnish, whatnot) to all other adjectives I see other peple having and I am not understanding that I have no other choice except to be this individual right here. I’m not sure about the future, but future is imaginary as the past. I have no other choice right now, yet I have choice everytime. To write, to stop writing, to close the lid, to go out, to think, to… yet, I am writing.
“thinking” about this makes my head hurt, slightly.

In Kiev festival, I was in Yaniv’s class almost sleeping (lovely class btw, I took some stuff from there) and feeling frustrated because I can see the flower, just like now, I can see it, it’s so close, I feel the closeness of it, but I can’t really feel it. Not yet.I can’t actualise it.

Yesterday, or was it the day before, sitting, I felt my heart beat so strong. Sometimes really going through the whole of me.
I am alive, living is me, but I can’t actualise it.
Or maybe I can, I love poetry, and music and arts. Because they can actualise it.

Sometimes when I really just watch something, anything, all things stop, but it can’t go on for long, my eyes get tired, sleepy. Something is trying to stop something. Give up.