Requiem

I've been falling asleep since christmas with the song "goodbye my lover" by James Blunt on infinite repeat. I do this because I like the song, and I like falling asleep with the musical reminder that things must end echoing through my room.
I have been doing this specifically since christmas because the cd was a christmas present from my little brother, thanks again, Colin.

Before I got this present I had Faure's requiem on the changer, and before this a selection of songs that signified the general feeling of loss and the ending of things. Anything from "Blame it on the wheatherman" by b*witched to "Katie" by Mary black, using "My Immortal" and "Schips in the night" as stop-overs.

Requiems, by their very nature pieces of music written with that which is no longer there in mind, are in my opinion the most beautifull musical expressions in the language of notes. Loss, nostalgy, joy, memory, all that was associated with the world that is no more will be easily felt in the music.
Wagner is still bombastic in death, one imagines an afterlife filled with large-breasted and horny-helmeted women on horseback that ferry across worlds to bring true heroes to their rightfull restingplace, as much as a rest can be had with largebreasted women near a recently defeated warrior, that is, it gives a whole new meaning to "rigor mortis", I'm sure.
Mozart's mass for the dead brim with anger, the feable last spasms of a genius with many more songs to write but not the strength to write them, an anger with the world that he seems to want to take with him to the next. If I ever meet a supreme being and he cites "that damn COMPOSER" as the reason he still can't see straight out of one eye and the scar across his nose I will very much not be surprised. I will also not be tempted to hold back because he was already torn a new one by a diminuitive austrian Wolf but that's my beef with Him..
Faure's mass is a softer piece of music. Sad, but accepting, it signifies the last part of the healing cycle...acceptance, sadnes, rest. The idea that no matter what might have happened before, it is now over, perhaps to soon, perhaps finally, but over nonetheless and the surrender to the situation brings rest. There are [arts of the music that bring tears to my eyes not because of their sadness, but because they personify the world I want to leave behind, a sad world, but ready for a future and perhaps a bit better for the turmoil that is now passed.

Songs about what is yet to be are usually filled with hope and looking forward to some imagined future. They have their disillusion built into their very fabric, as it were, but those that write about what is not there but that has been there have no such trouble. Hope may figure in the notes, but it is a hope for a repeat, not an empty hope for what may not be. Whatever the music is supposed to make you feel, it is a closed circuit, it tugs your heart not to what might be but to what was, and the past is written. It might be gone, but it has filled it's reguirements and is allowed to be gone.

These thoughts fill my head as the music swirls around my bedroom. My rooms are sparsely decorated, perhaps a bit chilly to the eye, but I like it that way, and listening to the music of no-more is a way to appreciate the moments that are there. Friends who stay over, or who don' stay over but know about my slight penchant for sadness are amazed that when things are going right I still want to listen to sad songs, and I can understand them, a bit.
The music gives me a sense of the passing of time, of the fragility of any situation. In my opinions beauty is at it's most striking with the hand of death poised above it, and anything is more poignant when it is about to end.
And everything ends. And the musical reminder of this makes me all the more appreciative of the situation when it is still there.

Tomorrow night a group of friends will gather at my house for a few games and an evening of general merriment. Of these, most people could call me at four a.m. to tell me whatever they want to tell me, even if it is only to tell me that they were awake and wanted to spread the joy. But after this night, they will leave. And the knowledge of this makes me want to live through the time when they are there all the more intensely.
Life is short, and even the most beautiful of moments will in the end pass. Listening to the music of this passing before the passing occures reminds me to enjoy it before the inevitable happens.

And please, whoever reads this, find Faure.. the music is sublime, and it is a great way to fall asleep :)

Yes, Yes I AM a man slightly on the side of gay-ish

Fact: even though my bestest friend has just returned from 18 months abroad and I am real happy to have her back, today I was most happy with the fact that she brought back something I'd like to describe as the perfect scarf. So, best friend, 18 months, two oceans away, and what am I happy about most? An accesory.
Fact: in about three days my boyfriend will be spending the night for the first time. This is all in all a good thing, granted. And I'm quite pleased I finally have the home-situation to entertain this type of situation. Mostly I'm real pleased to have a "can be specially decorated" home-situation. So yes, I bought new sheets, have been thinkng about and designed a lighting-scheme, positioned furniture to it's best 'yes we ARE lovely but a bit chilly" advantage. The fact that he needs to be entertained as well sometimes crosses my mind, but still... :)
Fact: christmas, time of family, friends, joy, thinking about the passing of things and new beginnings. What do I do? I consider the fact that my brown coat looks more "Ice princess" but my black ones are a bit too severe to be standing around in in greyish wheather.

So yes, I might as well admit I am a deeply superficial person. Not that this is really a problem, I guess.
Only really superficial people say looks don't matter, after all, and I DO realize that the more important things about the situations mentioned above is the fact that I can hug my best friend again, and the fact that the boyfriend comes over is much more of an important thing than the sheets (although they are VERY nice) and that having both my grandmothers, my little brother and my mum around for the holidays is a blessing that can't actually be topped by the realization that one is the best dressed guy in the cow-tipping experiment. It's just that sometimes the surface of things is fun to contemplate as well.

After all, Christmas is a period that is traditionally well-versed in appearances. We take a green tree inside to symbolize live ever-returning, which we hang with fruits (well, ornaments now, but they've evolved from fruits) and symbols of life, spring and fertility. These things are nothing but "looks" even though they have deeply rooted meaning. The fragility of the glass doesn't matter, nor does the fact that it's hollow inside. But the fact that these things sparkle and beguile does.

When I started posting this I wasn't sure if this was going to be something advocating either superficiality or be a counterpoint to same, and to be perfectly honest I am still a little unsure.
I think, since it is christmas and all, it would be better not to make a real point anyways.
Christmas is after all about tolerance, about life and love everlasting, but not neverchanging, and it is most of all about realizing what is important.

To me, and to many, the important things are family, friends, good food and good company, but I'll not sit here and pretend that the new wardrobe, the gifts and the clothing don't matter. Because it is nice as well to dress up, and to look and smell nice and eat nice things.

So I wish all of you reading this (What? ALL FIVE?! Madness) the christmas of your dreams, have as many as you can stand of the following:
-Happiness
-Eggnog
-Joy
-Love
-Food
-Family
-Friends
-Warmth
-Wellbeing
-New clothes
And worry about the bills next month and about dieting in your next lifetime.

I probably love everyone reading this in a certain way, since not many people know of my little blog, and I hope you will find all the luck and happiness that you deserve.

Hugz, greetings and the best regards,
Kevin.

Harry Potter and the handcuffs of hypocrisy

Or: How I nearly wrecked my job, nearly ruined a movie (for the row behind me) and managed to start dating again in one fell sweep.

A few years ago I went to London, I went with three of my friends, and we went on the weekend of Valentine's Day. The reason we went on this specific weekend is the simple fact that it marked the third consecutive year of singledom on Feb14thh, and we had decided to treat ourselves to theater-tickets and a weekend of friendship, sightseeing and fun. And it was fun. Bitter, dejected andmisanthropicc fun, but fun nonetheless. I even went so far as to have four t-shirts printed with a short comic strip detailing what exactly should happen to the kind of people in an actual relationship. Details not important, but the phrase "dead before you hit the ground" was certainly mentioned.
This general idea of what should constitute a hanging offence in the dating arena was quite descriptive. I despise people who feel the need to explore the back of their partners mouths in every available circumstance, be it in a bar, a movie theatre, at a bus-stop, where-ever. And more than one of my dates and boyfriends in the past three or four years have found that overzealousness and enthusiasm might seem like a great plan, but they don't really stand up against the veritable WALL OF ICE-QUEENNINESS(tm) I can throw up when I don't feel comfortable. And I rarely feel comfortable around people who are more than generally zealous or enthusiastic.

Fast forward to a few years later (one year and a handful of months later, to be precise) and I am being set up for a date-like situation by a co-worker of mine. It wasn't a blind date, as such, because he was setting me up with a friend of his whom I already knew from a party a couple of months previous, but still it was somewhat of a "let's see what happens here" sorta situation.
And, not to put too fine a point on it, what exactly happened was, well, snogging. I think we managed to behave ourselves in a nice flirty manner for about two hours, and then starting to make up lost time for the two hours after this. This is something I NEVER do. I DO NOT snog in public, I AM NOT snogged in public, and I sure as hell NEVER ignore the other people around me, not even when I am with someone I kinda like. Friends of mine who heard about this evening were amazed.
The co-worker might have been amazed as well, but I think "annoyed" or "furious" might have been better descriptions.

Dating commenced. We had a normal quiet evening in my favorite pub here in Amsterdam (Tara...for those interested) where al that happened was talking, and no snogging. Then we went to see the new Harry Potter movie. I can only say I was happy I had already seen it a couple of times, because I would've missed about 70% of the movie otherwise. Once again, one of my personal rules had been broken and I found myself kissing during more than just the previews. Bad...bad me.
Since then we have for as far as I can tell managed not to be too much trouble for our surroundings. This may be because we have kept inside during our dates up till now. This then again might have something to do with the fact that I spotted a pair of handcuffs on my first visit to his place and I'm a sucker for the more binding types of metal.

I am now, apparently, dating. Even worse, I am now, apparently, in a relationship. Something that would've freaked me out a couple of weeks ago but now seems to be swimming along nicely. I am going to introduce him to my mother and brother, and to my best friends, and a plan has already been made for me to be introduced to his parents, And I already met some of his friends, who seemed quite nice.

Interesting situation this. I haven't been dating or in a real and healthy relationship for a good long while now. And I must say, it's nice. It's nice to lay on a couch and listen to someone's heartbeat, or to feel two arms around you when you are trying to cook dinner.
And this guy provides general feelings of "hmmm...nice" at a regular basis, I must say. I'm not going to sit here and gush about my new boyfriend, cause I will slit my wrists if I ever have to read this again, but he is great, 'nuff said.

Next time, in all likelihood, I will write something about the terrible ordeal of having my supersweet but slightly overprotective friends meeting my sweet but unprepared boyfriend and then proceeding to tear him apart.
That is, if my brother leaves them something to tear...
Argh....