Tag Archives: death

Amy Winehouse

8 Jan

This is not dedicated to her death or birthday anniversary. It’s about Amy’s art.

She was always laughed at. Paparazzi did their job well taking pictures of her drunk or “ridiculus”. But  the moment she died was the upgrade of her career. The minute ago she was the dirt, the next moment “Back To Black” is on the top of Billbord and her creative work is risen up to the skies.

Amy was a gifted girl. She has opened the sacred secret of love and feelings.

Her songs reflect pain, sorrow, not sadness, grief, tears and … humility. She wasn’t protesting, didn’t maked a big show of “words-and-no-deeds”. She sang soul songs. Painful, profound and inconsolable songs.

When I plunge her songs I fell that she loved and failed, loved so much she died. Amy burned black, died for love in all ways, ispecially physically. They said she needed rehab, drugs killed her. Of course journalists are good at overplaying and telling lies. They will raze to the ground anyone to get a great blatant story.

“Love is loosing game”. She wished she had never played this game. Life is a loosing game, Amy, yes? We all are seeking the raison d’etre even in semirandom events. We all can’t admit that we’ll die and will never care again about anything. There is nothing there. What a wonder to find your love and stop seeking because you already know the answer. How great and priceless it is. How painfully it hits.

Amy Winehouse failed. Like all of us will do. Some people will call this “the path of least resistance”. But he walked away and never came back. The grief and pain she had to face. So much was cried out and written out.

And those people and mass media. Their “Rehabilitaion”. She didn’t care. Didn’t want to go there. Because she already knew the end.

Amy Winehouse burned to ashes, she knew everything and was ready. Why suffer, why wake up alone, why suffer?

Some of us will see a crazy addict bitch, some of us wil see a girl who was killed by love.

And one more thing that irritates. 27 years old, alcohol, drugs, music, death… This is the classic Rock’n’Roll story. How much money those madmen got. But they don’t see the tragedy. This  cynicism afficts so much. Those morons trivialize music and art.

“They tried to make me go to rehab but I said no, no, no! I ain’t got the time”. Don’t go.

Do you yearn? Because I do.

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Brokeback Mountain Forbidden Love

30 Aug

You only see what your eyes want to see.

You’re frozen when youre heart’s not open.

Madonna

2 days ago I would say there is no movie to be compared with “Titanic”. I was wrong. There is another beautiful and tragic story, meaningful, covering the truth of life and love. “Brokeback Mountain” excited me the strongest way. It is a particle of light; it is art. We should consider it from the artistic point of view. This is not about gays, not about bisexuals either; it’s about the core of love and humanity. As soon as I consider this work as art my point of view becomes ultra-subjective, because everyone has the truth, the truth of art is very personal because the artist leaves only questions to be answered by those who get affected. Nothing is right and nothing is wrong. It’s all about impression and emotions. How can we judge leaves for being green?

Why is this story so grim and heartbreaking, breathtaking? It illuminates the harsh truth of modern society and eternal problems, tragedies.

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Why not about gays if we can see two men having sexual experience with each other?  Because it is all about pure love. This feeling doesn’t know boundaries, limits, ages, sexes or nationalities. This movie, this book tell that love which is not a conception of some stereotypes or shapes that society has created. We can’t judge leaves for being green, you remember?

Now I’d like to say some words about homophobes who denied watching the movie despite the actors were just perfect. Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal are truly outstanding actors. People who don’t understand the main idea only see what their eyes want to see. They see two gays or bisexuals who have sex, which is just disgusting. I see another picture. This is not about my sexual orientation, I just can go deeper. Once you really fall in love you understand that the rest of people and the rest of life gets white and stays backstage.

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I can see that love in this work of art was spontaneous; it was on fire for a long time. I don’t give a fuck if they were men or women or heterosexual, I can see the beauty and perfection. What makes us get up and die, get up and die… From time to time we could think that the fire stopped but it never did. This love embraced pain, tears, happiness and pureness. That passion in which rare meetings added fuel to the fire… Have you ever fell in love?

But the story broke my heart. Even not the story but the catalyzer of all bad things happened there. People… sweet beautiful people. The society, from the capitol “S”. The society which the humanity is so proud of. That is the main problem. Have you ever been miles away from your love? Have you ever had the experience of not kissing your love for a long period of time? Wouldn’t you be angry or despair? People didn’t give those characters a chance to be just happy, just to live their own lives like all we do. Do you fucking think that you are damn gods to decide what’s right and what’s not? So the influence of people is the symbol of how some representatives of humanity are being stupid and don’t know they are destroying others. And the fact the love was “forbidden” means that we are going to rot in the hole of our own prejudices, idiotic worldview and fighting for what we really don’t know anything about. The end of the story as we know is sad. The death of Jack was ambiguous, from the one hand he died accidently, from the other hand he was murdered by homophobes. This is the symbol of people’s hypocrisy. When they say “It was an accident, but in the reality it’s all a big piece of shit, because it was a murder, intentional murder, the crime against humanity, against love. This means people kill love, kill life. After Jack’s death Ennis was alone in the trailer park, he didn’t die, but he was never in this world again. The last his words we can hear were “Jack, I swear” with tears on his eyes, touching Jacks’s shirt tucked inside of Enni’s one as the symbol of eternity and immovability of love. Love can’t die, it just moves to other dimensions. “I swear” to love, to remember, to never give up on you…

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There is no sexuality, no orientation, no argues, nothing, ‘cause when it’s love you gotta fly. I’m not going to waste my time on those who can’t understand this, whose “love” is limited by sex, presents, walks and sex. I’m talking about something more profound. This just is not your business. I may be not the best writer, not the best “feelings-expresser” but I can feel in my heart. My heart’s breaking when I realize how many jerks ruin other’s lives, when they try to make leaves be black. Love is so rare, so catch it, run to it, never let it go, it is so rare… Find your sense in art/love which is actually the same.

1 gloomy birthday 6

17 Aug

Something strange, non-understandable but that’s how I roll

I can’t believe it’s true! I am 16, I am a high school senior, I got a passport. It seems to me that all these 16 years I was waiting for something huge. Let’s be honest. All of us think that we are something outstanding, something that is in the sky, far away from such crap as money, commitment, society or words of people we don’t know and will never meet.
My life is always about something fatal. Like death, getting a brand new family which I hate, having almost only girls as friends, meeting the femme fatale who changed my life forever, falling in love, knowing how it hurts and finally making a brave face because you never want to show how much you are scared about the future.

There are two worlds in me: the valley of death and the statue of liberty. The first tries to make me die, the second one is the fire that is burning in my heart and eyes. The cruel world tries to bring me down and drag me into the abyss of death. I have to run. I have to fight. I have to fly. I have to crucify. I have to resurrect. I have to be brave and strong. The thing that I have never fallen down on my knees is just a miracle. But I believe in miracles.

The problem is that I still can’t understand myself. Who am I? Who am I living for? What am I living for? I don’t know what to choose. I am split into two. I want to be a journalist and a physician. But I realize it can’t be both. So what should I choose? I have only 15 days left. I don’t want to spend 10 years learning and after all discover that I don’t want to be a physician. But if I choose journalism I’m afraid to connect myself with something I don’ like. And it’s not about advice or money or career. It’s all about me. It’s all about what I love more, what kind of person I will become.

One of the worst things of my existence is that I live in Ukraine. I want to live and work in the USA, to be with my soul mate, just become happy. I don’t want to be miserable. The only way for me is to get education in the US which means entering a college. My stepfather is an idiot; my mother is too busy with her work so I have to think about my education myself. I can work hard, I don’t complain about it. But when I realize how much fucking aspects of getting this education I’ll have to face I understand that for me it is a very heavy baggage. I’m just sixteen, I am inexperienced, poor, I started thinking only some time ago so I don’t know how to keep all this under control. I hate the world religion. I hate paper they pray for. I want to be something more than that. What if paper and numbers will cut the head of my dream? This is so stupid! So fucking stupid! All these tuitions, governments, laws, immigration services, all those motherfuckers I mean racist, homophobic, angry people get me down. I have to fight with this abyss of ignorance before it devours me. It’s all or nothing, sink or swim.

I’m not a pessimist, I’m just a bit pensive. But keep my head high. I never give up. I promise to my music, to my person, to the emptiness that I will burn cities, I will fly if not then I will crawl, but I will never cut my fingers and build a coffin! I’m gonna build my Empire State Building, I’m gonna be on its top, I’m gonna find the biggest bullhorn and scream DREAM ON DREAM ON DREAM ON DREAM ON!!!! by Aerosmith. No matter what way I will choose I will try… Try to do everything I am told and taught. Never forget and never leave alone. I will feel! In heart!

This piece of something, I don’t really know how to name it correctly but this is some kind of confession of guy who is so lonely that has to write all this crap because there’s no one really around to hear me and understand me. My dreams are miles away. I hope that many years will pass and I will read my article again. Smiling, laughing, because I’m not alone and everything is alright. This is the period of changing, so I believe that no matter how much we all will have to suffer we will finally see our own light at the end of the tunnel. Out of darkness.

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I’ll be your lover, I’ll be forever (inspired by “The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer”)

14 Jun

It has always been interesting to dig in someone else’s head. You can IMAGINE different situations, not yours, feel someone ELSE’S pain, not yours, and finally get your own OPINION to situations you may read about. Let’s face it: feeling the pain of other person is more pleasant than feeling yours one. That is one of the reasons why we read books.

Recently I have read “The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer”. I have to say that this is a great book. It is well-written, interesting and some kind of unusual.

The story is about a little a girl in a cute dress in the best society. After that a reader faces the secret of Laura. This secret is her enemy. This is BOB. During reading the story you have to realize who is BOB and if he is real or not.

As to the content BOB is someone who abused Laura, humiliated her and from my point of view screwed up her mental state.

Who she became?

To answer this question we should find the answer for this question:

Who she was?

She was just a girl, who had just started her “life search” with innocent thoughts and actions. This can be said about her experience with boys in the wood. Just naked bodies, but no sex.

But she changed. BOB changed her. She became a drug addicted, sex addicted confused girl. She thought she was a bad person, dirty, stupid girl who deserves to die. I suppose she was controlled by constant fear of meeting BOB.

Laura Palmer became just nothing. She was a depth of lies, drugs, sex and criminal. She understood that life is all about being happy, really happy, but I bet Laura couldn’t find happiness in things which were appropriate for a whore.

The level of happiness was again controlled by fear. She didn’t know if she was allowed to have beautiful, innocent feelings and thoughts (like love). She knew that BOB would never allow this.

How could Laura stay in the place where the walls expressed beauty and innocence? She couldn’t, didn’t deserve it. She understood that her soul becomes having more and more holes, she was dying.

I can also analyze the character from another side. She split into two branches, one of which has dark beginning and the other one conceals the girl, who just wanted to be like others and happy. These parts of Laura’s soul were always in struggle. The second, “beautiful” part of Lora Palmer always tried to reach for light like branches of a tree reach for sun. It showed itself in communication with little Johnny, who was pure and innocent, he was her absolute opposite. Anyway she was afraid to touch something so perfect, she was too depraved. We can also see her kindness in helping old people. But every time she touched the beauty something violent was coming again. The cracks in her soul were too real.

It is necessary to mention about Laura’s pony. Once it was happy with its family, which I mean Laura, but then something happened and this pony had to be alone and struggle. Finally it was shot in the head. It does remind me someone else. I think this is a symbol of what happened to Lora.

Self-destruction always leads to emptiness, so called death. Perceive it as a metaphor or not but in the end there is nothing but emptiness and infinity. Laura died.

To understand why Lora died we need to understand why people drink. To seem cool? – No. For taste? – Hardly. To stay funny? – Doesn’t fit. To relieve pain? – Closer. Laura Palmer being a teenager felt so much pain and fear that sex and cocaine work like vicodin to a person with chronic aches in leg. But finally it didn’t work. The process could never be stopped and was accompanied by different symbols like the killed cat of a little girl or dreams where she violently died, or something like paranoid ideas, again dreams with black sky and even sex became the act of revenge. Everything she touched dried and died. To forget, to survive, to live one more day, to relieve pain, but just not to die.  That is what Laura had in her had. Sex and drugs brought her satisfaction as her dying world couldn’t get closer to something less primitive.

So who is BOB? Is it the part of Laura, her core, her mind or is this a real person who abused and scared the young girl time after time? Both. The part of fear and BOB’s impact on her became her core, where she became numb. This is the reason why Laura couldn’t hold resistance to him, couldn’t give up drugs and change. From the other side BOB was just a maniacal ass whose hobby was to abuse a young girl and make her think she was mad. Who knows how the situation would have turned out if BOB had been just a normal guy.

I sincerely feel sorry for Lora and hope that this always misunderstood girl found her eternal peace.

This is how I understood the secret of Laura’s diary. The best part of the book is that the reader is to decide. To decide who BOB was, why her world was destroyed and by whom. So there is no wrong conclusion. The worst part of the book is that you may find yourself in Lora’s first thoughts and actions, because they were always true and naked. This is about what we are afraid to confess even ourselves.

“Weep” by Reamonn

She turns she burns she feels concealed by

someone that she doesn’t know

She hopes someday he’ll find his way into
these tears that she weeps
She knows she gave she feels enslaved by
what she gave too easily

She hopes in time she waits in line for all
these things that will make her
real

I feel that she woke up feel she’s had
enough

Feel it’s time she opened up her eyes
I feel that she woke up feel she’s had
enough

Feel it’s time she opened up her eyes

She holds the cold she feels so fooled by
all this pain she has revealed

She hopes she cries she holds inside all
these things that will make her real

She screams put your hands on me
Put your hands on me put your hands on
I need to feel you touch
Put your hands on me put your hands on
I need to feel you touch

I feel she’s got to open up her eyes

Put your hands on me

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P.S. Not accepting eternity I’m lying to myself again just NOT to close my eyes and never wake up. With this note I’m finishing my article, dedicated not only to Laura Palmer and my thoughts, but to that one, whose soul name will stand out in all its beauty on my body. All comes with years. With years and to eternity.