upside down

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It rains out of this heart,

and little pieces, fall and fall and fall

into and endless black hole pool

The stars can’t do nothing but observe

and like the moon can be upside down,

heart has a different view on the world now,

and flips upside down,

opens the gate

and floods

piece by piece

by piece.

 

Waiting at a stop where nothing comes.

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Waiting. Waiting at a stop, but a stop for what? Nothing is coming. No train. No bus. No subway. Nothing. Grass is growing, because nobody ever walks here. Empty trash bin. Forgotten stop. Nothing ever happens. This is the world of stuck. The world of emptiness. The world of apathy. I want to move. I want to change. And all I do is wait at a stop where nothing ever comes. I need to move myself. Why can’t I move myself? Why do the days pass by and nothing happens? Why can’t I get myself to change. Why don’t I dare to act? Is it about dare? Why do I don’t act? I want a better life. Yet, I don’t do anything. I wait. I look into a future, but I don’t act for getting closer. et cetera. et cetera. et cetera.

Planetary Nebula

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/a6/NGC_6326_by_Hubble_Space_Telescope.jpghttp://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/a6/NGC_6326_by_Hubble_Space_Telescope.jpg

This is what happens when a star –much like our sun- dies. It’s a * Planetary Nebula* seen on its side from earth. Sadly, we can’t fly around it; It’s too far away and far too big.

If we could fly around it though, you would discover that this thing has the shape of a Big Fat Donut. When a star dies, it swells up to a huge size and throws away its outermost layers. The huge cloud you see here, is that thrown away stuff. Right in the middle lies the remaining core of the dying star. The core is hefty enough to illuminate the whole spectacle. It looks like an aggressive explosion, and that’s exactly what is it.

But it is so huge, that you wouldn’t see any movement in it, even if you kept staring for the rest of your life.

 

(the text (nor is the picture) isn’t originally mine, I found a piece of paper where it was printed on. I have no idea who wrote it or where it exactly  comes from, but I thought it is beautiful)

Can’t wait for you to come

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It’s coming close, counting down the days

I can see myself, driving to the airport, standing at the airport, waiting for you.
I can see you coming out of the plane, waiting for your luggage, stepping through the door

I can imagine me, the thoughts in my head, the feelings in my heart                                       I can imagine you, the smile on your face, the look in your eyes. I can see you , I can see me.

And I can’t wait untill you are here.

 

 

In_visible

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So many people, but too many to see me.

Though I’m there, and I’m here, or something in between

not really where I want to be.

out of nothing attacks of fear,

and as being blind and being able to see.

and everything is a mess, and everything is clear.

 

Heartbeat – beating, beating – feeling the movements too well

I am here, but frozen, – turned into a statue

And I feel paralysed for a while, but there is no way I can tell

the world around is sometimes so frightening

that I feel trapped inside a spell.

Autumn storm

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Since a couple of days, the weather really suits autumn; storm, lots of rain. Outside it’s dark and grey with streets covered in the yellowbrownorange sea of colored leaves. I’m lying in my bed and look out of the window; the branches of this pine tree are waving  and a few minutes ago a little bird was hopping through the tree, perhaps looking for a shelter.

I read some pages of the book “South of the border, west of the sun” by Haruki Murakami. A book I’ve read before, like all the works of Murakami, but it has been a while and this is the perfect situation for reading his books.

“But I didn’t understand then. That I could hurt somebody so badly she would never recover. That a person can, just by living, damage another human being beyond repair’.

(random quote from what I read today)

Last week, I found out that one friend had died. I remember the phonecall. Remember how I shaked for two hours. All the other things, that happened. A week has passed now, and what has changed and what has happened more? After the funeral, I went home again and that’s where I still am. I rarely left the house, just for groceries actually. Yesterdaymorning and this morning I went out for a walk through the stormy weather and the rain. No one around, everyone seems to want to stay inside – perfect. I’m happy that I have a good jacket for circumstances like this.

Last few days I also talked a lot with i-love-very-much-far-away-friend. I still cannot believe the impact she has and had on me. That –even if it seems far away and almost invisible right now, because it’s too long and too far away from me- I felt happiness. After a long time of emptiness. It is still hard to understand, but I’m happy she is part of the world. And now? I’m sitting here in the eye of a storm. Trapped. Inside a tornado, and you have no idea where it goes and you can’t step out of it. You can see the dreams flying around you, but they fly too far and high and fast to grasp. How do you know what the moment is to step into this tornado? I live, in the eye of a storm. Sitting and waiting, seeing and observing, but never going on the ride ittself. That is what is wrong with me. Waiting for movement, but I need to make the movement myself.

The funeral

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Sometimes we have to say goodbye to someone,
sometimes very unexpected – it’s painful,
it’s a part of life – if we want or not.

and with experiences and the lessons we learn,
these things change something in our mind,                                                                   make us realize – what really really matters.
but it doesn’t leave the pain behind

Sometimes, the world stands still.                                                                                           While the world around you is moving and moving;                                                               you’re standing in the middle of a movie where                                                                     no one notices you, it just continues, and doesn’t wait.

You’re like the station of the subway; where everyone starts and departs,                        And where subways stop and go,                                                                                        while you are standing still, are frozen forever                                                                    And you miss the things, before you know

There are always these dark clouds
and there is always the sun.                                                                                               Somewhere, there should be ‘the middle’  – and you have to try to find it,                              because before you know,  the end could possibly have begun.

Yesterday, I went to the funeral. Somehow it was less hard than in the morgue (for me). This was also my first Islamic funeral ever, so I wasn’t sure how it would go exactly or what to expect. There was a delay of almost an hour, since it took longer with the rituals in the mosque (this part was private, I wasn’t there) so I waited on the cementary.

The rain poured down from the sky, and I was standing aside along the driveway of the cementary, under big chestnut trees.  I saw the line of cars coming, and the cars stopped on the driveway. They carried the coffin out, and here the sun started to shine. People carried the coffin to the grave. It started raining again. The most women weared headscarfs, first it made me feel a bit uneasy, because I never thought of the possible need of one. (Also I don’t have one.) But luckily, no one seemed to make a problem of it , and there were a few more women without headscarfs. This part went quite quickly. They took her out of the coffin, because Islamic funerals- they don’t bury people in coffins, but they cover the body in some white sheets, and bury it that way. This part was a bit weird for me to see, because you could easily see the shape of the body. She was covered with sand, there were some prayers, and we were asked to leave – only the family could stay for longer. The whole thing together was maybe 10 or 15 minutes, not longer.

I walked away with all kinds of thoughts inside my head. Then I went to my city-friend’s house, which is very close to the cementary, and stayed there for a couple of hours. We talked, and ate a bit, the first thing I could eat that day. A bit later at one side of the sky there were dark clouds, on the other side the sun, and in the middle a rainbow.

It’s still weird. And I still don’t know how I feel, or what to think. It’s just weird.

When life stops, and life goes on.

Today, I went to my friend in the city. Picked up some groceries on the way so I could cook for her. Then we talked about the loss of our friend. Another friend of her joined as well. After some time we discussed about going to the morgue or not, because someone close to the person who died, said we could go,we decided to go. My friend was scared to go, but as the funeral is tomorrow (it’s an Islamitic funeral – that’s why it’s so fast) this was the last opportunity to see her. Also the morgue where she is/was, is not even a ten minutes walk from my friend’s house.

We walked there, and it was a very weird walk for me. I had a very weird feeling in my stomach, and with every step I took, I thought: I’m one step closer to the place where she is lying now. It was weird. When we came at the morgue, we arrived at the same time with some other people, who came for another person there. They were first, so we had to wait in the waiting room. The morgue wasn’t at all what it looks like in movies; I was a bit afraid it would look like that, but it was not. While sitting and waiting, I was shaking again and I felt terrible.

From the other people I could hear what they said and saw what happened – they lost someone who died the morning of this day with an accident at work. And the person who worked at the morgue, gave them all the stuf of this person; his carkeys, phone, all sealed, his helmet, workclothes………it was really weird and impressive for me to see this somehow. In the back of my head I was thinking: how would it be like when this would be someone close to me? I couldn’t get these thoughts out of my head. They seemed so calm to me, though some of them cried now and then, but they seemed so calm to me. I would probably have crashed down really badly.

After some waiting, the employee took her body out of the fridge (or however you call that – but I guess it’s some kind of fridge) and prepared the room. I wasn’t sure if I should go in the room to see her or not. But I did. When they opened the door, my friend and her other friend went first. First I saw a hospital bed with a white blanket. Then I stepped in the room, and there she lay; in a blue shirt (the one they use for surgeries), half under a white blanket in this hospital bed.

I didn’t stay long in that room. Tears coming up, I watched at her for a minute or so and suddenly I had the feeling I needed to go out of the room. I left. My friend stayed for 5 or 10 more minutes. I can’t exactly remember the time frame. Tears came, and I walked around in the waiting room, trying to calm myself down. The other people where still there, with all the stuff of the other person who died.

After a while, when my friend came out, and we walked home. It was weird. When she was lying there, (I didn’t dare to touch her, I just watched), I was like, get up, stand up, just press a button and walk again. Weird thoughts of course, but it was hard to grasp, but death is just weird to me.

While walking home, I felt really irritated with this other friend who came. She was (at least to me, but maybe my level of tolerance was lower?) non-stop talking about losses she had and how to deal with this and if my friend wanted to do something to say goodbye and wanted to do this and that……….and it annoyed me so much, that I felt like screaming: SHUT THE **** UP! She just died, give some space, and just shut up! Of course that is not nice of me to think, but I was really annoyed that she kept talking so much. Eery person deals with loss in his or her own way, there is not one way. But it really annoyed me she constantly spoke this way and asked these questions which were completely irrelevantin my eyes,well at least these kind of things were too soon. When someone just died, why would you have to force someone to be distracted and think about what you want to do for the person etc. Probably she meant it good, but I had enough with it.All I could think of is; don’t push too mush, sheesh, give some air to breathe. And so I left.

Tomorrow is the funeral. I’m still in doubt wheter to go or not. First she is going to the mosque, but that is closed/private; i can only join in the funeral itsself what is after the mosque. I didnt receive an official invitiation, but her ex husband said that we could come.

I went home and sat in the train with weird feelings. The train was full of people who came from shopping. And I sat there: sometimes the world just stops for you, but everything around you goes on, like nothing ever happened.

For me, the world just stops sometimes.

I still don’t know how I feel, or what I think.

But when I came home, i-love-very-much-far-away-friend was there on skype. She was there. She is there, even if she is far away.

I see her.I hear her. I know she is there. And this made me cry again. i-love-very-much-far-away-friend, if you read this, I wish I could let you feel how much this means to me. I can not express how much value this has for me. While typing this, tears rolling out of my eyes again.

I wish I knew how to end this blog post properly, but I don’t, so I will end it weird, and just like this. Boom. Just like that.