iivahn
iivahn: philosophy, poetry, and the inbetween
(a digital drawer for thoughts)
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Text
the game
He insults her
thinking
she gets too many compliments
.
Little does he know
there’s only one voice she hears
and it hurts
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please take one
first her father got a piece
then a girl
then a boy
.
she was the free candy
at the front desk
she let everybody grab a piece
of her
and
suck
or
bite
until
there was no
free candy left
and
no one
could walk up to her
any more
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awake at 4:37 a.m.
I will be open
try to be honest
give it all I got
for as long as I can
because
even in this
dreadful
pandora’s box of a life
somewhere
deep inside
is a
lonely
white
dove
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how to avoid becoming an alcoholic by 23--written by a 23 y/o to a 23 y/o
Step one is
of course
to pour yourself a cold one
preferable a fresh 12oz
of mid-priced beer
.
Next
throw away all the empty bottles next to your bed
your desk
and by the windowsill
there is a fine line between collection and fetish
only you see, no one else
.
Lastly
with appearances in order
get to work on learning
3
good
cocktails
an expensive taste is a moderate taste
.
Now
take a look around
and see the improvement you’ve made
feel good
drink on
and tell em you are in control
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impression from a second story window
Around 5:45
As today turned into yesterday
The whites
of the buildings
turned pink
like eyes
that cry
during sunsets
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PORTUGUESE--
Tomara
Que você volte depressa
Que você não se despeça
Nunca mais do meu carinho
E chore, se arrependa
E pense muito
Que é melhor se sofrer junto
Que viver feliz sozinho
Tomara
Que a tristeza te convença
Que a saudade não compensa
E que a ausência não dá paz
E o verdadeiro amor de quem se ama
Tece a mesma antiga trama
Que não se desfaz
E a coisa mais divina
Que há no mundo
É viver cada segundo
Como nunca mais
.....
SPANISH--
Ojalá
Que vuelvas deprisa
Que no te despidas
Nunca más de mi cariño
Y llores, te arrepientas
Y pienses mucho
Que es mejor sufrir acompañado
Que vivir feliz en soledad
Ojalá
Que la tristeza te convenza
De que la morriña no compensa
Y de que la ausencia no da paz
Y el verdadero amor de los que se aman
Teje la misma antigua trama
Que no se deshace
Y la cosa más divina
Que hay en el mundo
Es vivir cada segundo
Como nunca jamás
Vinicius De Moraes
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note2: a page left open
You are on a bus headed into the mountains. The road is well-paved and there are many clean cars driving along side. You wonder how many dams have been constructed and you try to count them (instead of focusing on the tunnels). You ask your self, "How long before I get bored? How long before I grow old?" You get a chill up between your breasts. Maybe it means something: So much to see, too much to miss on this one way road. "Is it too late to be an engineer? Is it too late to say I'm sorry?" Hoping things fall into place is like jumping off a bridge--we're all doing it. But, nah, you'd rather go with the flow, surfer style, cherry picking those good waves, floating over the bad ones, taking it one at a time. It isn't that it's easy. You can't fall into chill, you got to set it yourself. That itch in your pants, maybe that means something too. Throwing your body around, making a paper plane out of your body, letting the summer winds blow you, sounds fun, no? You'd much rather squeeze some running water, cool springtime nostalgia. "Who's scratching my head? Who's using it?" It's hard to listen with a pair of headphones in your ear. It's also hard to breathe with a cheap sandwich in your mouth. Worst of all, you've grown near-sighted with digital constipation, eyes never focusing passed your computer monitor. It's bright outside and you can't adjust the setting. But I guess that's what bedroom blinds are for--for your eyes. "Who says shadow puppets aren't fun?" If you read you'd know. If you dance you'd feel. Mash it. Ah Ah Uh Uh Ooh. Baby, this is where life stops making sense, at the halfway mark--at the 2 & 3 in a 4/4. You've got two choices at any one point: repeat or breakdown. The first is safe--that's why it gets you nowhere. The second is dangerous--that's why it's fun. All in all, bob and weave between the two, shit's cool. So long as the repeat ends where you started and the breakdown produces catharsis in the end.
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Deja vu
I know for a fact
I've lived this
moment before
.
Every time I read this sentence
I know it's been read,
being read,
and about to be read again.
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note1
The lie we've bought is that "Safety comes at a cost and that cost is Freedom." The truth, however, is that Freedom and Safety aren't in opposition. No. The people who limit your expression, who shoot at you, who lie to you, are the enemy. They are the opposition to us and our values. Being free is being safe. And being safe is being free.
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Here
You're exactly where you need to be
.
Heroes stood where you stand, wore those same torn hiking boots
and
rode the same bus to the same place
.
The self-doubt you have, they had
The love they had, you have
So what's the difference?
You're scared and they never were?
You're lazy and they always overcame?
.
The only difference is the time, HA!
And in that you're better, faster, smarter
.
Climb up their frozen shoulders and swan dive
into the future
Presence is Golden
You're Present
And
Exactly where you need to be.
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Quiz
Can you honestly say you've helped another person?
Honestly?
When's the last time you've done a hand stand?
What's the longest you've gone on making love?
When's the last time you counted with your fingers?
Your toes?
How do you recycle?
How do you recycle?
What's the first song you ever sang outloud?
Waffles or pancakes?
Who's one person you'd give a kidney to?
What's your favorite dance?
Language?
Mole on your body?
Who do you keep facebook stalking?
What do you call the overlap over two extremes?
Are you going to Heaven?
How many more days before you say "I'm happy?"
Do you need one, two, or more hands to count how many things you take for granted?
On a scale of one to ten, how far are we from perfect?
Would you hug a stranger?
Oh, yea?
When's the last time you did?
Do you make eye contact when you ask for something?
If I stuck out my hungry hand, would you grab it?
If I asked you to help me save the world, would you?
Is there a question you couldn't answer honestly?
Honestly?
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Your Petals
You're still a budding flower
Your petals are lush red
and your thorns make me bleed
I like it
You make me bleed red like
Your petals
.
You're still a budding flower
A tall, centerfold flower
Not as pretty as those other flowers
But you're better
And I bet you taste better
It must be the water
.
You're still a budding flower
I know because my friend the Bumble Bee likes you too much
I've seen the way he looks at you,
tries to touch you
and you like it too, I know, It's ok because
The air blows downwind for us
.
You're still a budding flower
Your petals are lush red
And your thorns make me bleed
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The Old Town Square (A excerpt/ramble from ‘The Summer Abroad’)
We stepped outside and were blinded by the light. It shone in splashes. Jin, Ryan, Charlie, Rick, Alex and I wandered aimlessly through town, taking pictures, taking pisses and ending up at the old town square. We hardly recognized it. It was empty. It was like the enlightened mind, no crowds, no noise, only serenity and a rising sun behind old black buildings. Now we could allow thoughts to enter, people to enter, give them undivided attention, will, love, understanding. Charlie walked up to the center of the square, closed his eyes and started doing t’ai chi. Jin, Ryan, Alex and I sat down and lost ourselves in the silver lining of the buildings. Rick, on the other hand, saw a Frisbee land next to him. Another group of post-clubbers were tossing it around. They had their dress shirts untucked and slacks cuffed thick. Rick played with them. It was beautiful to see strangers throw a piece of plastic around. The blond, bearded street performer from the other day sat down with us. He was wearing metal chain and black leather, and had come to the town square to prepare for his daily performance. “You guys want to buy some weed?�� he asked. We all looked at each other. “Nah, but thank you.” He looked sad.
“Well,” he said, “want to smoke some weed with me anyway?”
“Sure.”
He rolled up a couple of jays and we passed them around. It was 7 AM. We ruled that town square, we ran it, we ran on it, we sat on it, we breathed its air. Only urgency or responsibility could break the bliss.
“We better head out if we’re going to catch the train,” I told Rick—he’d caught the Frisbee close to our circle. He looked down at his watch.
“I looked it up. There’s another train leaving at 10. We can take that one.”
He tossed the Frisbee back to his new friends while we finished off the jay and wished there wasn’t such a thing as time, but of course it’s here and of course we left, starting back up at the hostel—where one by one, our once strong crew disbanded.
“You should come to Singapore,” Jin said. “We have really good psy-trance festivals.” He disappeared.
“I’m going to bed,” Ryan said. I told him, “It was good meeting you.” We nodded to one another and parted ways.
Charlie said, “I’m glad we hung out,” then gave us each a tight hug.
“Charlie,” I said, right before leaving. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“How do you travel alone, what’s some advice for me?”
“Be adventurous,” he said, just before skipping along to his bed where I’m sure he slept a solid 12 hours.
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Bruised Peach
You were like a bruised peach
With your red hair
Dyed
On fire
Spilling knots and candy canes
Over your pale-faced canvas
.
I couldn’t help but take a bite
You looked so good
And plump
And tasty
So many white hairs
So many bruises
Such a spill
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Dear friend of a friend,
You are on my mind
And
Have been on my mind
But will never again be on my mind
.
Because between us, things don’t stand still
.
Between us, a mirage exists
It’s only a few blocks long
And
An apology wide
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top ten percent
You were right about to kiss me, it was obvious
Back at that party, it’d been obvious too
You had never talked to me so much, given me the light of day as much
And by now everyone knew it
Everyone knew I had been crushing on you hard
Every time I brought you up to my roommates
I mentioned your big eyes
Your long eye lashes, while
My roommates mentioned you had no soul
But I didn’t care
At that party, neither
Why you drove me and my roommates home was strange, true
Maybe you were jealous your not-yet-roommate had just made out with my then-roommate
Who knows?
All I know is that, them in the bed of your truck, and me in the passenger seat
meant something
And when we, you, whatever, dropped them off we were going to talk
And we did talk
And then, it got quiet
I saw you staring at my lips
And then you saw me staring at yours
The car was off, but your eye lashes looked like they were air conditioned
Clean
Brushed
Moving
“Why are you so sexy?” you asked
Before we dove in, over the centerboard
And gave each other that first kiss, that last kiss
I never got why you kissed me that night
You never kissed me again
You went off and started dating my then-roommate right after
Nine out of ten guys would have agreed with me
Would have agreed that you were very, very pretty
And very, very worth fighting for
But you never went for us nine out of ten guys
You always went for that one out of ten guys
The one who didn’t like you
Maybe you thought it was special to go for the top 10%
Only, it ended up, they were the bottom 10%
But, then again, so were you.
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"Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning acts of initiative (and creation) there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plan: that the moment one definitely commits oneself then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never have otherwise occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance which no one could have dreamt would come one's way. Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now."
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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