Unsure

I wonder if there is such a thing as stage fright if you write a blog.

I don't really know if these posts will convey what I want to say. What If I am misunderstood, what if I loose someone because of this? This doesn't seem to be a problem when I speak to people, I can understand what they feel (up to a point) and act accordingly. But here I write out my thoughts and people read it, or maybe they don't, and I can have no feeling about them, as I don't see them.

It is probably illogical, just like stage fright, but still, it plagues me. Makes me keep drafts I don't feel should be published only because I feel they might be misunderstood, or even worse, show a part of myself that people will not like, a side not even I know about.

The same goes for the other stuff I write, I'm afraid it's not good enough, but honestly, from time to time, I really think: "It can't hurt can it?".

Another maybe:

God only knows

Tried to live the way they ask,
to do the things they wish to see,
not to cry and not to bleed,
not to sigh and not to need.

I am different
I am change
Listen to me and come to blame
blame the one who keeps the change
who takes the life
and gives the age.

Going to and from is all he does
looking at your life like a pack of lies
never believes in you, nor in himself
he lies to you, gives the life he takes.
Gives it to gods, long since forgotten,
to the gods that lie down in the death,
decomposing and rotten.

The new night, given and taken,
makes you think, makes you awaken.
The dreams you dream,
the screams you scream,
as he takes your life
takes it to the field of strife
and breaks it up for the demon's knife.

He never does threaten,
he never does try
he just finds you in the night
and helps you die.

A walk in the woods

It was a sunny saturday and after taking a nice ride on my bike I decided to go and take a nap in the afternoon, when I hear my mobile screaming for my attention.

Wouldn't you know it, a friend had an idea. He said we should go and check out a gorge in the vicinity of Dragonja (which is a river on the Slovene coast). Being the way I am, I said yes and we went ahead with the plan. We drove there in his trusty old twingo (which got a few new bumps thanks to an awful road), and we faced our first problem as soon as we got out of the car. The problem being a bridge which was not safe for use. So we had to wade our way through the river (man it was cold).

After successfully getting to the other side we went on towards the gorge, I had believed it was a short walk, but my dear friend had decided to take a "shortcut" which led us through the woods, yay. The woods were full of "aggressive" vegetation (the kind which stings), so this became quite an adventure. The shortcut turned out to be all else beside short though. So we took quite some time to get there.

On the way we found a couple of old bangers in the most incredible places. Some places were hard to reach by foot, how in god's name did you get a car there? One example would be in the picture on the right.

On the way we also saw some quite nice sights, and I even saw some of the first flowers in the wild in this year.

Anyway we kept going and when we got to the top above the gorge realized that we don't really have the time to descend if we don't want to return in the dark (considering neither me or him knew that place that well it wouldn't have been a good idea).
I made a couple more photos, which can be seen on Flickr.

Overall I must say that the experience has been pleasant and am really looking forward to exploring the gorge in the coming weeks, if the weather will permit it of course. From the pictures he has shown me it seems to be quite a special place.

Raison d'être

Knowing what to do with my blog has been an unknown for quite some time for me.
There wasn't really any use, or reason for it. Just a test of myself to see if I could actually go and do something akin to writing.
Well you might have notices that insofar it has not been a very successful test. I haven't had any ideas about it, haven't had any stuff to write about and last but not least, I don't see myself as a person important enough to warran any kind of viewership.
Writing to myself has been a nice thing to do for quite some time, but I feel I will be able to write stuff for others as well. Heck, maybe some people will get to know me better through it.

Having written all that I really hope something will come of it. I hope in time some people might actually like it and read it from time to time.

Another poem for the road? What about "Alone" (I don't exactly remember, but I think this one was published in the book "Young People's Book On Non Violence" - a project I helped work on, but more about that another day maybe):

I saw people walk away,
While he was begging us to stay.
I did as they did,
Even if I wanted to stay.

Now I see,
That it was also me.
We could have helped him,
Helped him be seen.

We just did what was easy.
We left him alone.
We left him to die.
Without even saying goodbye.

Inspiration

I will never understand why it works the way it does.
It has been at least 2 years since I last wrote a poem, that is, it was until this wednesday, when I wrote some again. I was walking home and I wrote a couple of lines into my trusty Moleskine notebook (that was a good purchase).
The so called poems were a bit dark in my opinion, but I'm happy enough to be writing some again.

After telling my roommate about it, he said I should be trying harder, so I could write more and be less dependent on inspiration which seems to come in bursts.
This doesn't seem to be a good idea to me as forcing things never works, and I would expect it to be worse with poetry.

Oh, and about the stuff I wrote. You can have one, if you want it:

Dark

The young night
brings a strange light
which wakes me inside
turns my tide.

I wish for morning.