great expectations

I've taken all my exams, music, sports, tpe, tp, physics-chemistry, maths, french, philosophy, spanish, german, biology. ARGH, now I am waiting and waiting. I went to mamady keita's concert last night, it was NICE, enjoyable, I also went swimming in darn ugly weather in the morning, and ran, had pizza and octopus, watched beach volleyball in BERLIN and got into trouble for not having any place to stay at in london. I bought my inter-rail ticket i must admit it was more than exhilarating. I like ex- words. Discovered Josh Ritter, he's awsome. Started The Dream of Scipio and La Princesse de Cleves and an Economy Dictionnary . I am planning on cooking some little herbs pastry, should be good, but i'm missing the fresh spinach leaves. My contacts still haven't made their way from whereever-it-is-they-were-fabricated to MY EYES, so i'm wearing daily remplacements which suck. I went to the highschool party wanna be prom thing, it was really not too sparkly. PORTUGAL won over England and France got kicked out of the Euro 2004. I will go tomorrow to see how harry became a tree. ALRIGHTY, it's getting late and I am on my way to BED , although at this instant it is more than suffering under the weight of about a million things including a towel, bundles and heaps of clothes, and teddys, i DID have the presomption of wanting to clean my room today but it turned out pretty messy an entreprise. I had delicious cherrys and a nectarine yummy! I love summer fruits.

Lux fuit

La desdichada, stella (berlioz) melancolis, dur. Er hat mir gesagt: black bat , and is eden elle yacht?

somewhere around february 2004, i must catch up the lost time *a la recherche du temps perdu cf Proust*

Dear other,

I'm ever so sorry for having been indolent and so slothful in my writing for the past few months. I have been in most astir, both mentally and physically, and not once did I truly take a day off . I'm loving every second of my temporary-and-unfortunately-close-to-termination stay in life. I guess I will write more "expansively" another time. SO let's stick to the factual: *one more outburst of heartfelt emotion: I'm thrilled * I am most definitely and terminally IN LOVE. Deep love, which from the insides of my unrelenting passion emerges and rises. Where is the brink? What really matters? How and when and Why and Who is the link? A little composition of mine I just came up with, surely Love will alleviate all pain, cure and heal me baby I cannot venture into the dark alleys of this heartbeat (cf Joseph Conrad, the beating drum and Marlowe's confusion), but the horror, the horror is truly bright and stings at my soul, I love him so, him, an other other but not any other , the one other of others, oder…I like when he speaks I love to hear his voice * yet well I know that music has a far more pleasing sound. Stop it shaky you're deviating my original though of ethers' heights of perfection and divine bliss * He is my feeling of being alive. As my crazy mind craves for air, his breath is like the tender dropping of a doll's precious lids, easing the pain and so soothing. I have made it.

december 2003, reminiscence of a past existence or essence?

Otros:
If the Egyptians strongly believed the flooding of the Nile River to be the yearly coming of the god Hapi *happy?what a pun i'm sure those historians have a blast coming up with english translations for egyptian names;)*, and rejoiced of this life-giving inundation which yearly fertilised their crops, my flood is unfortunately very unlike theirs and I oscillate between blessing my chance or cursing my! My flood is spiritual, no that sounds diminishing, it is empowering and it titillates me in a most unerotic manner. It is abundance of thoughts and ideas, platon's cherished Ideas and all the phantoms of Zarathoustra although my love says I cannot understand that GOD is dead . Of course such turmoil is derisory and the outcome of my lament may and is INTENDED to seem ridicule, but none the less. I suppose we weave links of an affectionate nature with many more elements of our "environment" than me imagine. If we model our "Sphere of existence" ( argh, one of my biggest struggle yet: being able to extirpate the full sense of my intelectual roaming and, through carefully chosen words, grasp the intensity of THOUGHT. I'm not satisfied by this formulation, i could have simply said "surroundings" but that is much too simplistic and not fancy enough to merit my consideration *how arrogant i can be!* even though "Shpere of influence" is flawed also as it is too close to the type of vocabulary numerous pepople in perdition tend to use in what usually turns out to be aborted attempts to put across spurious mysitc messages. I recently read a book about all these sectarian GROups which are more powerful than i ever could have imagined, it was purely Terrifying. But here : She then: How you digress! Cf: conversation galante by ts eliot) My original point was to state that if we model our "Sphere of existence" to our own image, more or less consciously, then it must come as no surprise that what is our substitute for the equivalent of an animal " Territory of Dominance, or Ruling Perimeter " gains importance on an emotional level.
and although this seems a very long while ago *i like to think i have grown and became something of a responsible person, though i know i will never be able to part with that very childish side of me who takes immense pleasure in simple things, is content of almost nothing just as i can easily be saddened* I remember also the great joy i felt in conversing with you in my mind maybe because I thought you could understand me, and felt protected by that HUGE reality distance which made a true encounter unthinkable. However, with my newly gained experience, i know i am VERY lucky to have found you , since here (deux amours batirent deux cités: l'amour de dieu jusqu'au mépris de soi fit la cité céleste, l'amour de soi jusqu'au mépris de Dieu fit la cité terrestre, cf saint augustin) *and I am of course alluding to the latter of both cities* (What a pity the french have no word for ambas, both). almost everyone i meet can't seem to live up to my usual aspirations to GREATER things. I dont look down on people who enjoy partying and drinking , and i dont sunk low when sometimes i join them, but somehow i can't be satisfied to know people define themselves by such activities. I ask "so, what are you like? or, What do you LIKe? trivial as they seem, those questions are really tricky, but i sort of expect people to say more than just "um, i like to go clubbing and pubbing *ever heard of such a sad "ing" word ? they Make touring pubs a true time consuming and honorable Project* or i like to drink with my mates and meet pretty girls" HA. OKAY, well i love reading and experimenting, and dancing and looking for traces of beauty or striving to reach a form of imperfect perfection, or thinking very deeply about LIFE/GOD/LOVE knowing how foolish it is , or i like playing games a 16 year old should maybe, no, most probably NOT play, or making music and realizing how frightening the resemblance with maths is, or just talking endlessly , or despairing in the face of my failure to BE, then forget my sorrows as I discover a hidden force in me, taking the dangerous introspection of my soul to its limits, drawing parallels between phenomenons in general and seeking unexistent MEANINGs, etc...
As you can no doubt tell by the size of this confession, my mind is boiling more than ever, i lack an audience. Not really, i just wish i could talk more, with interestingly different people or confront my opinions with others. So forgive me if i just blab away idly. i just finished " an instance of the fingerpost " by iain pears which i truly liked. Happy new year.

Transmutation often occrus, here's my communication with the one I lost or never found, the OTHER

À l'autre , *petite révérance* (desperate if you ask them, fascinating by me)
I lived in CAMBRIDGE UK, went to kindergarden there. my dad attended the trinity's physics courses , he is all about "dynamique complexe des fluides blabla". Kraftwerk, ach ja, sie machen interessante Musik, haben sie nicht "trans euro -expresS" geschrieben (electro-popsih with a broken voice and that rolling train lullaby). Als ich nur elf war und kaum von Leben wußte, entschied ich , jemand zu werden. Ein einzige Bild will mich nicht allein lassen: ich bin müde und lege in Bett . Ganz plötzlich, habe ich dem Eindruck, daß ich in Unbegrenztheit fliege, und, im Augenblick , finde mich auf einem hellen Rot, Bluts befleckten und verschobenen Lage. Ich zögere nicht und begann es alle zu lecken. Dann, öffne ich meine Augen und höre eine scheltende Melodie in meinem linken Ohr. Intrigierend. *me gusta el castellano mucho más que todas las otras idiomas porque me sale tan fácil, auncuando no lo hablo en casa ni siquiera con amigos, pero como no sé si comprendes o no, he escrito tambien en aléman, auch wenn mein deutsch schrecklich ist. *
franz ferdinand sounds too familiar , sorry to break it to you but i live in **********, its right next to germany *5 minutes from my house walking*, and in this town, i found out, at least i think tat the heavens are trying me and constantly test my ability to make up rational explanations to strange EVENTS. I AM, most often awe-struck. Le vertige et l' angoisse de la liberté, too easy an answer to me, id like to think it's all like doug adams said in the preface to the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy : that little girl found an answer to LIFE, okay so then a terrible, stupid accident happened and she just DIED. but at least she could look truth in the face, a halo of amazing splendour, and it was purposefully destroyèd . most philosophying, including sartres, feels like running on one of those work out carpet rollers thingies, such frustration and pointlessness: c'est du sur-place mental. Hum..... your tasty question puzzles me (l'autre m'a demandé si je pouvais m'imaginer le gout de rien) i know it's quite common to eat things that have no taste and stimulate none of your labial detectors nor your palate's (for a vibrantly perfectly-matching-that-description food try American cheese), but tasting of nothing is something i can't imagine. Nature abhors vacuum' etc, i doubt you would be conscious of it even if you did happen to stumble upon the TASTE of NOTHING, nothing is like nothing i KNOW. hum, clumsy, nothingness is what life isn't. OKay so death is part of life but i find defining EXTREMELY difficult, opposities make one, cold wouldn't be cold if it wasn't for heat....ad infinitum. it's like in maths, un raisonnement par l'absurde... how can somthing be TRUE because something else is absurd. A gentle ripple on a calm surface, hope everlasting, TIME. Like as the waves make way towards the pebbled shore, so do our minutes hasten to their end. shaky. I saw some parts of shoa, a 9 hour long movie/documentary by lanzman, truly moving. I saw a movie by francis ford coppola called peggy sue got married and I just realised how life is a self recreating deluge of change, an instant ago everything from language/fashion/music/ to landscapes/faces/art was different ...how determinist of me to say that I am scared of getting lost in a chain reaction initiated by something wrong. I wish I could create a moving wooden deck, blinded by lights, at the end of which an illusion of sea like tranquility would take you over. Otro sueno : Cuando era niña un día, el primero en el que mis padres me dejaron nadar sola, me fue tan lejos que casi no veia la costa, y estoy segura de que sintío a humpback whale, la véio eso si que lo puedo jurar, pero si me tocó, no sé...tal vez fuera una illusion de mi mente fertil de joven... nunca lo confesé a nadiem estas el primero. Claro que es estupido decirte eso, pero me gustas mucho, aun cuando a penas te conozco , incarnas lo que siempre quizé ser: artista.. J'aurais voulu etre un ARTIIIIIIISTE . watching brel (absence of logical link) perform is like being hopelessly devoted to you. The other. Berlin is great, from my love's experience. maybe not as great as london, *i was in london not long ago, where do YOU LIve?* maybe not as great as the swiss mountains in summer, maybe not as great as a lost island off the shore of california, maybe less intimate than a whole in the sand i once dug up for 2 hours just to fit in a embryo position in it another dream, for sure less frantic thank tokyo or beijing, less clean than reikjavik , BETTER than paris for sure, less HOT than barcelona , less beautiful than lisbon, more german than hamburg, richer than that little village near new dehli i stayed in once dreaming again, etc.. what moves me is incongruous beauty sprung from the unexcpected rise to life of certain words/images/collages. late at night i think about death and my heart stops beating, i sweat fear and my eyes stay open even though i am sound asleep. then joan baez haunts me "sweet sir galahad" here's to the dawn of their days...and from another song the executioners head is always well hidden.i sample sounds during the day and somehow at night it all comes back to me. it's hard to make it, i feel ostracized and struggle to control my hidden pearls and serpents. And is this you? Don't say maybe. Do you know about LOVE? or is that just young infatuation?
(I need to learn)∞