Keep Your Head Up

I’m not particularly comfortable when I try to share that other humans put down on paper. Maybe I get burdened by a sense of egoism, that dictates that all their deeper meanings are meant to stay hidden and for my eyes only. Or, maybe I just find it slightly unethical.

Well, the word is about a man who possesses a great talent of manipulating words. To be more precise, his words are operating in a specific branch of the world of writing and they are called lyrics.

The reason I’m actually taking time to write about this is that I rarely find a songwriter that his lyrical material can stand alone outside the context of music and performance and actually create strong moving images on their own.

The title of my post refers to the title of the song. “Keep Your Head Up” by the one and only Ben Howard.

It’s been week after week that I get sucked into his unique world and his powerful grip of his profound meanings. 

So, here I share with you one of the images that he was able to create so vividly and moving. It feels like a very intimate moment so take some time and appreciate the context. Read, think, read again, close your eyes and see what you have to see. It’s all yours now…

“Now I saw a friend of mine, the other day
And he told me that my eyes were gleamin’
Oh I said I’d been away, and he knew
Oh he knew the depths I was meanin’
And it felt so good to see his face
All the comfort invested in my soul
Oh to feel the warmth, of his smile
When he said, ‘I’m happy to have you home.’
Oh oh-oh, I’m happy to have you home”
– Ben Howard

I hope that my long, irrelevant, boring post will communicate something across to you and it might give something to think about while you ride your daily endless underground route.

The Renaissance Man

https://youtu.be/ADP65wbBUpc

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Against a Sea Full of Others

And the call ends, the users go offline and both casually greet their “normal” everyday reality and wave goodbye to their sweet little digital hideout. Back to the others.

And then comes the cataclysm. Getting drenched in social stimuli, wave after wave. Phone calls, private messages, digital pokes, likes, group chats. And then the nights out, the physical pokes, the eye blinking likes and all the body language extravaganza. All the others are there.

Day to-day chores, bills, TV series, more group chats, scattered private messages. Exchanging of photos, semi-funny moving images and endless lines with words that are trying furiously to enter each other’s spectrum of reality. While the others are waiting for you to finish.

Faceless faces, questionable motives, experiencing of the fresh. Bad signal, frustrating calls, badly pixelated emotions and more words are trying to sneak into the surface of the screen. The time goes by and all the powerful currents of the daily phenomena push you further into the sea that is now full of the others.

The others that see you everyday. The others I envy the most. The others that occupy the physical space next to you and share the same ticking sounds of the time passing by.

But my flying boat’s fare is already paid. And the enormous horsepower of its jet-powered rows is pushing its way through the thick white clouds that host all the love and hate radio signals of humanity. Tearing the time zones apart, I’m on my way, against the sea full of others.

Arrogant and hungry for all things you, I devour your thoughts with unprecedented gluttony. Save it all for me. There are no others.

The Renaissance Man

Time is of the Essence

Time is of the essence and our own essence defines time, since we’re actually finite.

And yet, we disrespect.

We get distracted, we push our way through the seconds, the minutes and eventually the years until all the things we left for some more appropriate preordained point in the future don’t mean a thing anymore.

I’ll call you later, I will see you soon. When the time comes, I will have the gift of your dreams ready, waiting for you. When I see you again, we’ll have all the time in the world to recap and plan about the future.

Is it all a futile process of lying against ourselves in order to protect us from the ruthless truth of our demise? Maybe our brain is actually incapable of understanding the delicate notions of such things. Or maybe we are indeed programmed to always operate in this little limbo where we shift through the present while dreaming of the future and regretting of the past.

The possibilities are endless and we stand in between all, blissfully frustrated, breaking down installments and syncing our Facebook pages to our mobile phone calendars, so we can, at least, satisfy our birthday wishing ego.

And the hands are moving, the clock is steadily ticking and I’m still typing about things that should be done when I finish typing. Give your future a good past to remember. Otherwise your present in the future will be as regrettable as the past is to your present. Maybe you should stop reading now and book a flight ticket with your parents. They have never seen Europe anyway.

The Renaissance Man

Words Are Powerful

Words are powerful like a strong fighter’s punch.

They come down sweeping like a mad wind that aims to lift you off the ground or they wash over you like a breeze of fresh air in the middle of summer.

Their non materialistic nature is extremely deceptive and possesses surprising transforming abilities. A small string of combinations between vowels and consonants can easily sneak into you and like a tree, grow and blossom and become an endless source for inspiration and follow you like a most trustworthy companion. On the other hand, a slight movement to the dark side and even the simplest phrases will hang on to you like the weight of the world and sit on you patiently to the end of times.

Like all things known, they possess that true essence of duality. They can harm and they can mend. They can inspire and they can depress. They can become your guardian angel or an unforgiving devil.

Even over the phone, you can still feel their underlying energy travelling thousands of miles or mere blocks away, through satellites or old bunches of copper lines, delivering soothing smiles or deep scars.

There’s quite an endless amount of combinations of letters that can express and describe the meaning and the power of words and all of them are mere references to the their true power and its manifestations. We have been given speech, an amazing gift with enormous power and many unexplored sides and capabilities. Like breathing, we take it for granted and we spend it on numerous unimportant situations and for the biggest part of our life, we experience it subconsciously without ever getting in touch with its inner mechanisms and nuances.

For this specific post, I will avoid jumping into the deep dark rabbit hole of philosophy and I will wrap it up using Friedrich Nietzsche‘s words that greatly describe, well, words.

“All I need is a sheet of paper and something to write with, and then I can turn the world upside down.”

Be a careful listener and then the pick your words with even higher sense of caution.

Be the responsible bearer of this real superpower. Maybe it’s the only one that can actually make us super heroes.

The Renaissance Man

Days of Rest – Poems #1

12 holes older since the time I fell asleep.

My dreaming time is faulty and the downfall is too steep.

Endless days of labour are now showing up and the thoughts are piling up and the inside world is getting wrecked by the tides misdirection.

In the dawn of every day, I can tell my spirit’s willing.

A dozen urges of denial and my body is just reeling.

Endless days of rest is the only wish at hand but they’re high on demand and the pursuit of dreams is getting lost in the seas of misdirection.

The Renaissance Man


The Salt of the Earth

The Salt of the Earth

A documentary on the life and work of Sebastião Salgado. A film that gives a unique opportunity, to glance behind the curtain. To see the truth.

Words are slipping out of my grasp as pictures form on my screen. An intense travel from hell to heaven and a stop to all the shades in between. Unbelievable waves of purity struck me with every passing image engulfed in a most emotional narrative. A sudden hit of cold realization for all the faces of life and the human nature that most of us will never experience. A feeling of insignificance due to our size in the grand scheme of things and yet a grant urge for action and responsibility towards our own existence.

I fear that we might have to leave this place soon. Individually or as a species. Whether we have a choice on it or not. At least, lets inspire, transform and leave something beautiful behind.

The Renaissance Man