Ok, it’s been as long as ever, this break. But for very valid reasons I’m not gonna get into right now. But it’s a rough one, I’ll leave it at that for now.
That’s why I went away for a couple of days. Alone. And I just want to recommend it to everyone. It really is food for the soul. And before you start complaining about money, it IS possible to travel cheap if you’re being a little bit clever about it. So don’t start. Plus I’m not actually really talking to you. I’m telling you. That’s the thing about writing (gotta love it). You can choose if you wanna read it or not. I don’t really care. The words don’t. They’re just there, put together in a certain way. With content only the reader can decide.
So, you know, I’m not interested in hearing your excuse or reason why you disagree. This is my page, get off if you don’t wanna listen.
I’m so sick of being polite. I don’t know.. All I know is that there are times you love the entire world and wanna be good for, an addition to everyone’s lives, kind and apologetic towards anyone in it. Then there are times when you feel like everyone’s sucked the life out of you then stomped all over your deflated ass, used you for their own gratification, taken advantage of you -and you LET them!, and that now it is time to blow yourself up again. Literally. Show yourself some love. Blow yourself as much as possible without hurting yourself.
So that’s where I am right now. It has nothing to do with my situation I’m currently in, but is very much a result of it. There’s such a huge difference in when you’re susceptible to help from friends and family from when you have to fly solo and fix yourself on your own. I’m soaring high as a fucking kite right now. And I’m loving it. Sometimes you have to protect your grief. Rett og slett.
I found the cheapest tickets to Italy or France I could find, which was Verona, and booked minutes after I got the idea inside my head that I needed to go, pronto! I didn’t know anything about the city but I was just going to write on my book, which btw has little to no plan in terms of structure and publishing -but is happening, so it didn’t really matter where I went. I just needed somewhere warmer with a totally different way of life than home and focus on myself and my writing. Also, I just wanted to be part of another culture for a short while. One where people actually enjoy life, you know? Selfishly.
My view. Where I would sit for an hour at times watching lovers and stressed out families struggling to keep track on everyone, gelato all over their hot and bothered faces in desperate need of an alcoholic beverage to further dehydrate themselves with.
It’s hard though, leaving a painful situation at home only to go away in order to dive further into it. Faceplant first. Not eggplant. You’re no egg. You’re not Humpty Dumpty. But desperate times calls for courage and you have to face yourself in order to get through it as quickly as possible. Ironically where I stayed in Verona, the heart of the city itself, is home for Romeo and Juliet’s renounced love scene where he pledges his eternal love for her.. but at least my hotel room was far away from that whole situation. My room was facing the other direction than of the courtyard’s where the actually staged balcony was located. I was facing Piazza delle Erbe. Perfetto.
…
So, just to be clear, my hotel was in the courtyard. Every day leaving the hotel I had to close the entrance with one of those thick red leashes (?), like the ones they have at entrances for museums and nightclubs?, so that the tourists wouldn’t mistake it as part of the attraction and wander in. I had to elbow myself out of the courtyard. Which I didn’t mind. It reminded me that I was there for total different reason than sightseeing. On the outside of all of this. In some weird way it made me even more focused.
Plus they closed it every night for only hotelguests to enjoy. So that was nice. I could swirl myself to bed.
At least I could take comfort in how the love-story ended. With tragedy, death and misery. Which suited me just fine as I too felt like swallowing poison and lay down forever on this gorgeous bed
in this gorgeous room
in this boutique 5 star establishment with only sixteen rooms and most adorable staff ever, which I got for like a fifth of the actual price. Do your research, you can get it cheaper than you think. All I would swallow though was my many insecurities and delicious wine. All though I didn’t exactly party much.. Wine and pasta, desserts to every meal (yes that includes breakfast) and the occasional aperol when I needed a boost falling asleep in front of my Mac (or book) in 30 degrees writing on my fifth hour of the day, was as wild as it got. It was perfect. It was necessary. Filled with tears, puffy eyes and prego’s from young waiters looking at me with as much confusion as admiration.
One more thing. I did, prior to this trip, stay on the couch crying for like two weeks. Then one week drinking heavily every day. Then ended up booking my tickets one particularly rough morning.
But then.. put on that skirt and some lipstick and walk outside and see the world in a different light. It really does change when you’re going through difficult times. Trick is to notice and remember it. So here I am. In the city of love and ancient wines, dead inside, but wearing those lips out for a meal with a side of MacBook. It sounds like I’m taking it lightly but I’m really not. It takes strength to move on from a situation of crisis. It takes strength to peel yourself off the floor. And you have to do it every day.
Salute bitches
Anyways. I’m home now. Burdened yet again, but with a lot of material I have to go through to keep me occupied once I get some distance from it. Probably mostly rubbish. But I remember writing some gems. You just know when you have a valid point. A well formulated sentence, a thought. There’s nothing like it.
Hope your life is brighter than mine these days. Even though I don’t really care. All I care about is within these walls of our apartment tbh. That’s all I can handle at the moment.
There are a lot of people near and dear to me at the moment who are going through rough times Viktoria. Thank you for sharing your feelings. Luckily you seem to have a strategy.
What is it with sparrows. Your Instagram picture made me jump. I have been feeding them outside my office window for weeks now.
A few days ago one flew in through the open door, took a hovering look at me and like most other creatures (including humans) made a hasty exit.
A heard your ‘Little One’s’ mention of a sparrow in ‘The River’ and also after my ‘sparrow visitation’ recalled that ‘time buried’ piece by The Vulnerable Bede, written 1,300 years ago. (Sorry but for some reason he decided to write it in old English (this is an old translation or a very old version) so I hope you can understand it).
“Your Majesty, when we compare the present life of man on earth with that time of which we have no knowledge, it seems to me like the swift flight of a single sparrow through the banqueting-hall where you are sitting at dinner on a winter’s day with your thegns and counsellors. In the midst there is a comforting fire to warm the hall; outside the storms of winter rain or snow are raging. This sparrow flies swiftly in through one door of the hall, and out through another. While he is inside, he is safe from the winter storms; but after a moment of comfort, he vanishes from sight into the wintry world from which he came. Even so, man appears on earth for a little while; but of what went before this life or of what follows, we know nothing. Therefore, if this new teaching has brought any more certain knowledge, it seems only right that we should follow it.’
So I am left wondering what and when my next encounter with a sparrow will be…?
(PS. I liked the funny quote about dental hygiene from Shakespeare….I think many of them had wooden teeth back then. writing Comically Adulterated Histories really lifts my spirits).
(Oh and yes, I have ‘done’ Kristian Birkeland but I would never admit it to a Norwegian).
Peter <3
Sorry to say this but you seem to be dissin Viktorias feelings. What have sparrows and silly things to do with what she feeling.
Haha, I don’t know. I think he’s had several seemingly random encounters with sparrows lately and took it as a sign when I posted a picture of a little bird on my Instagram..
Personally I hate birds. But it was pretty 🙂
Oh I think hes ok then and wasnt havin a go.
I think yor right about the sparrows. I saw your picture and it was sad what you found. I think that story about the sparrow flying thru that warm hall was sad as well cos they fly fast dont they and it couldnt join in and new it was going back outside again in the cold very quik.
Wunder wat it is about the Kristian Birkeland joke.
I will have to google them to see who they are thanks,
Hello Firenza.
I am sorry you thought I was ‘dissin’ Viktoria (I feel quite honoured as I have not been suspected of that before (not just with Viktoria)) but I do not think it would be very kind to condemn anybody because they have suffered some sort of serious disappointment in life.
Sorry I was a little while getting back to you but I have been very busy at work. Viktoria was correct in saying that I had had a few encounters with sparrows and that is what prompted my comments.
It is strange how sometimes an influence focuses upon us from all angles and prompts thoughts. (More of that later). The little story about the sparrow flying through a hall is what is called an ‘allegorical’’ fable’. The ‘allegorical’ bit means the story has hidden meaning to it and the ‘fable’ means that the story features an animal or animals (normally they talk but we sort of know the feelings of the sparrow) that represent human beings.
I see in your reply to Viktoria that you find the brief visit of the sparrow through the hall rather sad because it is over too quickly and also because the sparrow cannot join in the ‘party’. The hidden meaning in this is what we term ‘The Human Condition’ or ‘Existential Angst’ . These things really mean that we find it hard to come to terms with how short life seems, how we seem to have no valid purpose or way for justifying why we are alive. It is all a big mystery and it frightens us.
We all set ourselves goals to try and comfort ourselves and tame our fright. Many people want ‘to see the world’ or have a nice car or live in a nice house or have a happy family life or swim the English Channel or climb Everest or go into space or be very rich or be creative in some way etc. etc.. When we do not reach our goals in life, we can get very upset because we think it steps in the way of us being able to justify being alive. We should not be hard on ourselves though and it really helps us to know why we feel so upset because we can understand why we have made our goal(s) such an important matter in our lives. We must remember that other people feel exactly the same as us. Existential angst does not just affect you or me but everyone else around us, also of course, other things will take the place of our frustrated goals. Sometimes we find ourselves being lumbered with other tasks that initially we do not want to do but which fire our enthusiasm and take us off in another surprise, meaningful direction. Sometimes we can step out of this ‘goal setting’ mode and try and just be aware of life in it’s true form and face our fears (also of course we can very keenly follow a goal only to discover that it does not really serve it’s purpose in seeking to justifying our life). Knowing all of the above helps us prevent ourselves from hurting ourselves too much and helps us to understand other people and why they are suffering so much or why they get angry or frightened sometimes.
Because of the damage that we are doing to the environment by following some of our dreams, we will find that if we want the environment to improve, we will have to sadly give up on some of our ambitions. But that will be very difficult for us because we think they threaten the justification for our lives.
I said about something else prompting my thoughts, you see I woke one morning a couple of weeks ago, wondering if any animals have a sense of humour. I do not know that I have thought that much about it before but it was very strange, for that afternoon on a science radio programme the same question was asked.
I have never heard mention of the subject before and may well not again. What a coincidence! On the radio, they said that very little work had been done on the subject (rats make a sound like laughter when tickled evidently). Nature seems to be just a ‘system’ with no happiness, no sadness, no discernible purpose (who knows ?) but we must realise it is not ‘serious’ either. I think we need to make jokes and laugh about things because we use it to counter the hard times we have with our other feelings. Difficult feeling that only humans really seem to have (a real sparrow would only be concerned with eating, drinking, keeping comfortably warm and dry, sleeping,
winning a little bit of space for its purposes, not being eaten and breeding; flying through a hall would probably not mean very much to it).
As for Kristian Birkeland, I shall not inflict my funny writing on you but just to say:-
He was a very clever man because he knew all about Aurora just under a hundred years before she was actually born.
I hope that settles your mind now.
Best wishes, Peter <3
There were a lot of thoughts there that I had not had before.
Are you a teacher coz you use a lot of big words dont you.
I read what you wrote to that man Andy Wait but if you say we cant trust time to flow like a river what does that mean for the time the sparrow flys through the hall I wonder.
Hadnt thought about humor before but think its probably right ha ha
Again Firenza. Sorry for the delay in replying. I hope you check back. (Been a bit busy at work).
No, I am not a teacher…just a student like everybody else. A bit of an angry student though because some time ago I decided to fight back against some of my negative issues and I took the view that the best way to do it was to try and ‘know my enemy’.
Ah, yes, you are quite right about time and the flying sparrow.
As Bede the Monk lived all that time ago, he did not know what we were going to discover about how strange things are around us.
Shakespeare didn’t either but that did not stop him from writing ‘There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy’.
For all we know the sparrow may fly ‘In Through the Out Door’ (name of an old album by Led Zeppelin, 1979) or find itself in a different hall that is nearly the same but not quite, or anything else you can imagine.
I think we can take comfort in the situation because maybe life is not as ‘dead ended’ as we think and the other consolation is that these worries don’t just single you or me out. We are all equally affected. We should all be able to share our uncertainty and see that we do not face it alone.
Now, I don’t know about you but I think I might have had a little too much to think!
Time to go away and sober up a little…
All the best for now,
Peter.
that sounds really good viktoria, really ! sounds like you found an entrance into your answer of “what should i do” (with my time) …i remember this, sure quite different times in 92 (where we thought the stupids were gone) when spending weeks in odeceixe (portugal) in a cafe, with watching people, grooving into another logic of time and reading marcuse and foucault…sometimes falling asleep for seconds by the heat of the south with mixing this microdreams with what you have read before… i found this really inspiring how different your selfperspective can come, when you really let the time flow with the knowledge; there is nothing to do with it… and its ok, cause we need this first to cleanup this selffunctionality thinking that lies so deep in our western societys… today more then ever… the best thing is to realise that (your)time is so different in “itselflegitimationnarratives” (postmodern) like zizek said, ‘the most revolutionary act today is sleeping’ …as always ambivalent 😉
best thing to experience the you “on your own” !
😀 <3 <3 Thanks for sharing that Mark!
…you’re welcome, my pleasure ! 🙂
I completely feel you… Tusen takk for this blog entry.
Jeg har ikke skrevt for so lenge, fordi det følte så bisarr å skrive til en person som jeg har ikke møtt i real life. Så tenkte jeg at du må tenke til deg selv “det er en veldig rar person”, men nå tenker jeg at det er veldig fornuftig å reise til annen land for å make love to all pinen. I thought of doing the same by travelling to Norway, just to get out of the environment here and to get a new perspective, but even just thinking of being there again, hiking, I feel how all the deeply buried feelings come up and try to get out. Å være ærlig, jeg vet ikke, hva jeg gjøre her, på bloggen din, men jeg ville si deg at du er ikke alene med pinen din. 🙂
What I actually wanted to tell you is that I have made very good experiences with writing. Especially writing diary entries helped me through the darkest times, no matter how shitty everything around looked and felt. Shortly before I got my diagnosis, which I wrote about a couple of months ago, I started writing, not really a “diary”, it had more to do with coming to terms with the past. It was completely mixed up with chaotic time-shifts and didn’t completely make sense when I read it later that time, but it helped to come to terms with everything. After having written around 700 (back then hand-written) pages, it felt great to just get rid of it and to leave it behind. Burning it is very effective and relieving. 😉
Tbh, I lately felt some early symptoms of another bipolar phase as well, but right now it’s still easy to handle. After reading the other comments (key word “dreams”), I can also advise writing a dream diary, if that’s something you’d like to do. I find it quite interesting to read about dreams four years ago and how close some of them were to what was coming shortly after them (luckily not all of them turned out to become reality).
If you hadn’t written, you wanted to be part of a culture where people enjoy life, I would’ve recommendended some places in Germany, but let’s be honest: nobody talks about the “life-enjoying Germans”. It’s the “efficient Germans” or the “humourless Germans”, but who has ever heard of the “cheerful Germans” (apart from “Karneval” in the Rhineland or the Oktoberfest)? 😀
Would’ve loved to show you some nice places in my town though, but I think that wouldn’t even have been close to Verona, regarding the atmosphere (plus you had to be alone, which would’ve made it harder). 😉
After all, I wish you only the very best. There will always be people out there who care about how you feel. 🙂
I’m going through a rough patch with the death of my younger brother at 63. Fought the good fight for the last three years against cancer. You don’t expect to outlive your younger sibling and to say he was my best friend is an understatement. Still I am getting through it by looking back over the great times we have had together and some rough ones. Neither of us was perfect. Got a hard time coming up on the 5th July when we finally lay him to rest, maybe then I can get some closure on this. To date I haven’t and still expect him to suddenly FaceTime at some crazy hour. There must be some meaning to all this, honestly fail to see what that is at the moment. Keep your chin up Viktoria, there will be happier times ahead, even if we can’t see it at present. xx
I’m so very sorry to hear about your brother.. But I don’t grant death any further meaning than a necessary ending. It’s just nothing but sad. Best of luck and strength for the time ahead Andy.
Thank you for your kind words Viktoria xx
I am very sorry for your loss Andy; I hope you don’t mind me ‘butting in’. I am the middle one of three brothers so I can imagine what your brother’s loss means to you.
It seems a very strange thing for me to say (nothing new there I assure you), but now, when I face close family loss or the loss of a friend, I metaphorically reach for my Wellington Boots.
I imagine heading off to a shallow, fast running stream and standing in the middle of it facing downstream.
Now imagine an object like a leaf or a twig being carried past me downstream in the crystal cool water into the distance before rounding a slight meander and disappearing from my view. The leaf or twig are now lost to me forever; I shall never see them again and had but an all too brief time with them.
Now it is evident to me that the water and the leaf or twig only appear to me when they reach the line level with the cold pressure I feel against the back of my booted legs and only exist until they round the bend where they once again vanish and I shall see them no more.
Now I know there are some people who say that the water exists before it gets to me; they say it will have swept down from a distant mountain or such like and after it passes me and flows around the meander, it will continue to flow resplendent with it’s leaves and twigs making it’s way in the world until it reaches the sea and mixes with an even bigger body of water, and still the leaves and twigs will continue to float. How ridiculous is that!
Now we know water; every day we pour it, we drink it, we wash with it, we splash it, we pass it regularly every day (on our way to work or the supermarket, when we walk past a pond or river…what did you think I meant)?!
But what if that water were TIME ?
I can only speak for myself in saying I have but the brain of a branch tumbled ape but those clever people looking into the true fabric of reality tell us that time does not flow like a stream but that the past, present and future exist and influence each other all the time (just like the water in the stream).
Our loved ones may be lost to us now but I comfort myself by thinking that they are still very much with us in a stream of time that is ever present and very real.
I don’t want you to take my word for it though,
(Phew, I wish I had had a teacher like her; I suddenly feel a bit hot and bothered…another use for that cool mountain stream me thinks)!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w0ztlIAYTCU
P.S. I hope the above helps you; it really helps me…seriously (and that it gains more traction than:-
Bergen’s place in bringing about Brexit by what happened there 8,100 years ago and how the Romans brought about the First and Second World Wars by what happened in AD 9 . Both things sound strange but……I am probably wasting my time trying to convince people ).
Kindest regards,
Peter.
“…crying for like two weeks. Then one week drinking heavily every day.”
Poor Viktoria! 🙁 I wish you only good! 🙁 (I’m afraid to ask what happened, because I guess it’s private and none of my business). Anyway, praying for you every day. You are in my praying list. Og søsteren din er der også.
Still, please, don’t consider my comment too schooling, but I remind you about the danger of alcohol. Alcohol is a very evil thing. You think that you control it, but when you understand that it controls you – it may be too late. Mike Portnoy (from Dream Theater) wrote a good song about his alcohol dependence – “Mirror”. https://youtu.be/P-k2JSZd_Qw (“Mirror, why did you lie, my friend?”)
You know, my wife’s father died because of alcohol. He caused much suffering to his family. Me and my friend married twin sisters and took them out from that hell. Everybody left him, and he ended his days like a bum, after an overdose. After his death my wife’s mother took away 5 trucks of garbage from his appartment. And even now my wife has mental problems and reacts very emotionally when I allow myself a little drink. (Anyway my alcoholic rule is: once in 2 weeks, not more often).
And as for breakdowns, I lived through the great crisis in the year of 2000. I know what it is to feel when your breakdown lasts for hours, days, weeks and never ends. Hormone shift, permanent stress, tyroid problems, taking medications for 1.5 years, 1 suicide attempt. Chaotic russian 90ies drove me to this state. And the last thing, which triggered the crisis, was the betrayal of people whom I trusted.
I managed to get from this state only becoming a believing man. I had nothing in this world, I lost my health, I lost people whom I trusted, I had no money, no future, all my dreams were broken. Only ashes. But step by step from these ashes something new grew. My choirmaster had planted the seed in me. The seed of Christianity. I remember myself arguing with her about God. Many questions which she couldn’t answer me, so I would be satisfied. But the seed was planted. And it grew. And now (after 15 years of being a Christian) I know that she was right, but I was wrong that time. And all my troubles were because of me, because of my great distance from God. And this distance from God led me to mistakes, which damaged my soul.
Viktoria, I wish you all the best! Never lose hope! We should not “fade to black”. That’s not our fate. Humans do not deserve this. Fordi Jesus elsker oss! And He helped me! And He healed me! And He gave me miracles! And He gives me hope and will to live.
Anyway, I understand that a religious choice is absolutely free, personal and intimate. So, just consider my text as a message from a crazy man. I don’t insist on anything. I just don’t want you to fade to black.
Sorry for all you’d have to go through, but if I had an alcohol issue I’m sure the ones around me would reach out. Plus, you do understand that most of my writing is sarcastic and meant in a humorist way, right? Anyways, don’t feel the need to remind or teach me anything. That’s not the reason for this blog
Have a good day
Ah, ok. Thank you for your serious answer. (Jeg liker det). I’m glad you’re fine. Sorry about my emotional reaction. You know, alcoholism is a painful issue here in Russia. I saw many alcoholics, and only one of them managed to quit. Now he doesn’t drink at all. Miracles happen. (But unfortunately they don’t happen every day. Usually things remain in their state or getting worse). Wishing you only good. Take care. Ha en fin dag! 👍
There’s no world out of Verona’s walls.
Come back as soon as possible, but let me know first. You have to love my city.
And my dream is to see Aurora singing in Arena someday…