It Must Be Love

Last few weeks I have been ruminating on this here blog about men’s  stories, especially relationship narratives (not necessarily romantic in nature) and about self-perceived shortcomings that can be remodeled at will. Many posts are connected to song lyrics and all of them are things I think about when awake, and feel even when asleep. If you’re into this kind of tales go and see other posts with tag “On Relationships”.

And now, let’s continue.

Illustration taken from http://www.windturbinesyndrome.com

It is not easy to find songs to illustrate relationship narratives before everything has gone awry. One could say that  humans are prone to “not rocking the boat” when things are going well. Objectively, there is, of course, logical explanation of fact that we’re not spending much effort describing time when all is well; predictive value of positive events is a lot smaller than for negative events and also we are 3 times as likely to complain then we are to praise.

And yet, most people do not intentionally, with forethought, enter anything, lest relationship talk. They just find themselves in situations and are directed by winds of change much more then with goal-oriented actions. That is why I love this song - It Must Be Love by Labi Siffre  - so much; because it illustrates rarely cool-headed approach to questions of the heart. Being a psychologist I’m acutely aware of people being extremely poor judges of their own states and desires but still it surprises me how rarely observation is used to access one’s own emotional states.

Like noticing that one could do with much more contact with particular people:

I never thought I'd miss you
Half as much as I do
And I never thought I'd feel this way
The way I feel
About you
As soon as I wake up
Every night, every day
I know that it's you I need
To take the blues away

… and to use this observation to base theory on:

It must be love, love, love
It must be love, love, love
Nothing more, nothing less
Love is the best

To further this pursuit of truth one must only follow scientific method some more; by making predictions based on newly established theory:

How can it be that we can
Say so much without words?
Bless you and bless me
Bless the bees
And the birds
I've got to be near you
Every night, every day
I couldn't be happy
Any other way

It must be love, love, love
It must be love, love, love
Nothing more, nothing less
Love is the best

You only need to evaluate evidence: If person/relationship makes you happy, if motivates you for action and makes you a better person this is a good thing. Good things are to be celebrated and maintained so they continue to give pleasure and happiness. It is that simple. And you need no better gauge to measure this then your own self.

As soon as I wake up
Every night, every day
I know that it's you I need
To take the blues away

It must be love, love, love
It must be love, love, love
Nothing more, nothing less
Love is the best

It must be love, love, love...

Noone is on his/her best behavior every day and "accidents" happen that put us in the doghouse but way out of the doghouse is just as simple; observe, theorize, make predictions, direct actions, evaluate evidence.

I love love.

Happy Days

Last few weeks I have been ruminating on this here blog about men’s  stories, especially relationship narratives (not necessarily romantic in nature) and about self-perceived shortcomings that can be remodeled at will. Many posts are connected to song lyrics and all of them are things I think about when awake, and feel even when asleep. If you’re into this kind of tales go and see other posts with tag “On Relationships”.

And now, let’s continue.

Not all paramount stories will be lengthy and enveloped in indie rock.

Often you can find both truth and sense beneath it all in a place not artificially distanced from emotion. I already wrote about punk and what it means to me, and to shortly summarize I highly appreciate its direct and vivacious nature. What I also often feel, especially listening to Kurve (Hookers), is pure genius of punk lyrics: simple and repetitive enough so even the weakest link can enjoy their energy - any yet filled with profound sense of how the world operates.

Official promotional photo of the first album "Su Bolje Majke"

My favorite Kurve song with relationship narrative is Happy days (Sretni dani) and I have translated it here to illustrate this point even though they sing it in Croatian.

I love how they captured the essence of both contemporary society using formally accepted indicators of politeness (“please, thank you, here you are, excuse me” is a part of school-age rhyme showcasing well brought up and polite person) and common relationship dynamics by which man may be the initiator but women are ones calling the shots and allowing things to progress.

please, thank you

here you are, excuse me

you allow me to gnaw on your

tired bones

they are the feast of this

mongrel dog

please, thank you

here you are, excuse me

It is awesome to see so much commonly overlooked truth displayed in such a short verse. Happy days are the ones propelled with candor and openness, before calculations take center stage in a relationship. Happiness stems from desire, from pleasure, from being able to approach and resolve interpersonal issues directly, without need to base relations on need and interdependence created by shortcomings.

happy days

when we're in heat

happy days

when we fuck

happy days

when we don't give ourselves

to need each other

to eat each other

Part of the second verse with “Happy days when we don’t give ourselves…” refers to later stages in progress of a relationship when people forget that the interdependence relationship rests upon is not obligatory part of a relationship, it is an optional part they themselves have chosen (to progress the relationship, no less!). So to act like a hostage is completely unnecessary and actually rude, especially if you force responsibilities onto someone before even discussing them. I love how they have summed up both pleasure and tedium in a few words, the right words, like an open-ended question that reveals one’s true intentions.

It is possible to stay in this blessed time, in the happy days of fucking and pleasure and good relations indefinitely if your interrelation is based on trust (you can even patch up broken ones if you don’t spare the effort), but only if you preserve and cultivate trust and agree to carry your own responsibility. It boggles my mind to see so few people abiding to these simple rules of conduct.

What I Learned While I Was Down With Pneumonia

I just had pneumonia for a month and there is something I wish to write down here on the blog because I feel I have learned something.

You see, I tried online dating few months ago.

I have been single for quite some time now, and indeed even though I was married for a few years and had some relationships I actually feel I have been single through that time too. I do feel connected with some of my exes and there were instances in which I felt as a part of a bigger whole (with no nostalgia or bitter taste in this fact) so this is not issue of being unable to connect. It just so happens, it seems, that I chose to spend time with people with lax sense of commitment.

And then someone twitted something interesting about an online dating community available in my area.

Since I’m always ready for a bit of experimenting and prefer truth even when she is not pleasant to stomach I went off and made myself a profile. It was a nice profile. Thought through. Open, socially pleasant and also direct. At the same time objective, clear cut and cold. Just like me - disciplined enough not to openly contradict the social norm but inevitably emotionally distanced. Profile (in other words - me) became quite popular quickly and even though there was a lot of hay to go through some needles were found. So I exchanged some opinions, enjoyed some conversations and had a date or five. In the end it did not work out but I had a good time and I think I managed to communicate that it was a pleasant experience even though we did not click on a larger scale.

It has been 14 years since I was actually dating anyone and this was both old and completely new experience for me.

I disliked:

- meeting people. I hate meeting people. Being fiercely introverted and also quite protective of my privacy just makes me not want to put myself in that position if that is not absolutely necessary.

I liked:

- meeting people. Sense of distance the computer screen gives is just the perfect amount of distance to start a conversation. And after some conversation meeting in person is just a logical step.

- kissing. I missed kissing. Sense of closeness it gives even when you just start to get to know people.

- verbalization. How when I just meet people I can communicate likes and dislikes directly, for them to be acknowledged. Things sound differently in the confines of the mind then released into the wild of the social situation.

What brings me back to my pneumonia month. Bigger part of that month my daughter was with her father and grandparents, on their summer vacation, and I was alone.

There I was; broken, in bed, with fever reaching 40°C, alone in my apartment. No one to brew some tea for me or cook me chicken soup to nurse me to health. No one to keep me company or to check my forehead for signs of returning fever in the middle of the night. No one to share “or for worse” in between two “for betters”.

And I did not mind.

I had friends calling me to see how am I feeling, parents trying to smuggle in lunches so I would not need to cook, neighbors knocking on my door to check up on me and bring me small gifts of kindness.

I slept, took my medicine, ate simple meals and read books when I could. When I felt better I showered and tidied the place, I made my bed every day and I turned the electronics off to go to sleep at night. My organized person routine just rolled on, slower than usual, but undoubtedly present.

I did not crave for company and I did not feel bad to be left to my own devices. I was happy to hear from friends and parents and neighbors and I loved to see how considerate they are and how well they know me. In their kind efforts I saw their kindness but I also saw my value to them, and fruit of my labor in communicating all the things of value behind my distant and objective appearance.

It is not that I fail to connect. It takes two to connect.

I think I will make more room now for the possibility of meeting people.

"There is only one greatness in life: seeing the world as it is and loving it."

Many things are happening every day - horrible, heavy things - happening in the midst of all my happiness with new place, visiting friends and re-vigoured life. There is so much going on I'm afraid I'll let something important slip by me and I'm going to make some notes here to compare them once things tide over.

I managed to help my parents return their life on track - it has been three months already and things still look very good.

One of my friends was hospitalized after botched suicide attempt that revealed many, many of things in his life have gone awry and this does not look good at all.

Another friend was nearly murdered by someone close and subsequently all kinds of horrible stuff, including rape and molestation, surfaced.

As my ex-husband is very explicitely threatening to kill me I went to report this to the police and they said that they cannot help me but they'll make a notice of me reporting this that will be useful if I decide to raise civil lawsuit against him or if he really does hurt/kill me.

Many, many things are happening.

          x          x          x

Some days, like yesterday, good and awful come together hand in hand. Same actions produce laughter and tears. Funny ol' world, that is. So many, many people barely coping with interpersonal relationships that they hope to make romantic in nature - so many thinking they're failing on daily bases.

Some time ago I shared some insights with a dear friend and did not think about it much at the time. But days flow by and it still resonates with my inner unease so I'll make a notice here - publicly - and I think it will make me good to do so. In this exchange of insights I said:

"I do not want these things from a lover, ones you talk about

I do not need them to carry my bags or change tires
but I do not need them for fucking either
or to bounce ideas off of them
or to affirm me
or to spend time with
or to share interests
or "to love me" because love is a thing I GIVE to someone to show them attention, and the experience of being loved is a feeling inside me - one that can be unprovoked by another person's actions

high correlation of "showing attention" from someone with "experience of love" could really mean that they love me, but it can also mean that they have good manners or that they have been trying to trick me

either way , love (toward someone) is inside me
that experience, chemistry, thoughts or emotions
are my construct
one that is easier to maintain if there is someone outside me who positively responds to my behavior
but that is neither sufficient, nor critical factor

I feel I can say that I "love all people" and "I do not love anybody"
and both of these statements are equal in value

Up until now I have loved men and women I dated in many ways and I have showed them my love in many ways
but if I would have to sum up most important bits - the reasons I engage in relationships at all - I think that would be:

1. because they have some excitement in their personality/behavior/coping that intrigues me
2. because I think they can teach me something
3. because I want to do things for them - from carrying bricks to cooking lunches or directing their lives (psychological category - it seems spending time with me cristalizes other people's intereses and affinities)

I do not need them for fucking because as much as sex is fun social activity, one can give more pleasure to oneself  alone

I do not need them for company because I know how to be alone and that is not unpleasant to me

I do not need them to formalize relationships because to cave under peer pressure once was enough - and they can bite me now

Luckily I do not need them for raising my life standard either (and I am very happy and grateful because of this)


All things considered, the only reason I would engage in a relationship is because I'm madly romantic. I unbeliavably like the thought of a partnership with a person that is aware of, and can handle the fact, that my thoughts are my own (and his coversly).  I like the idea of existing through time with a person while acummulating knowledge about each others' lives what in time makes for communication void of excess reiterations. Partner for experiments and partner in experiments. One that has his own intrests and we share the resolve to be pleasurable PARTNERS.

That seems like an ok plan to me. To hope to find someone like that."

          x           x           x

I thought about those words, my words, a lot lately - many times engaged in my evening workout as pictured in photo above - and it reaffirmed my oppinion this is a worthy goal. I will search high and low, through time and space, under rocks I already turned over and through landscapes (peoplescapes?) I am yet to come to.

And we'll go to PaxEast for our honeymoon.

Because "There is only one greatness in life: seeing the world as it is and loving it." and that is home.

          x           x            x

This is tenth post in the series "What is home?". Read posts one, two,  three, four, five, six, seven, eight and nine below.

Crazy, Stupid, Love (2011.)

Two days ago I watched "Crazy, Stupid, Love" (2011.) and as I am still thinking about it I've decided to write a few words on the topic.

I did not like the movie.

I think this is well made, actually pretty good movie.

How can this be?

There is an lasting anecdote saying Alfred Hitchcock was once asked about nature of movies and that he replyed that "A lot of movies are about life, but mine are slices of cake" - and surely, so they were.

This movie definitely isn't slice of cake. It neither amuses us (being awkwardly paced) nor educates us (having nothing to say), it does not impress us (as we've already seen it all if we ever looked around us) nor it seduces us with beauty (we've all seen better) so this movie is a slice of life.

And in life - cast is brilliant!

Steve Carell, Julianne Moore, Ryan Gosling, Emma Stone, Marisa Tomei, Analeigh Tipton, Jonah Bobo, Kevin Bacon... it is a godawful mixture of unpairable puzzle pieces - which comes over weirder still as they have all been made parts of romantic relationships. But it is not weird. Life is not a Hollywood movie and in all sincerity this IS how living people pair up. Society IS a canopy of mediocrity not frequently interrupted with intelligence and/or beauty.

And then - there's a thing with the title "Crazy, Stupid, love" and the way it beautifully sums it up:

CRAZY - for which other adjective could you slap onto man's longterm best friend who leaves him in his hour of need with the words:"My wife said we have to choose between you and Emily and I cannot see you anymore." or the fact that same man still comes to prune "his" roses and groom "his" lawn after being divorcely evicted.

STUPID as there is nothing better to be said about a man who thinks he and his wife stopped being "us" after she slept with a coworker and not after a millenia of quiet despair in invisibility and routine.

LOVE as there is nothing to give our life meaning IF WE DON'T. Stories that steer our lives are not facts but interpretations - our thoughts and feelings that we use to explain, to predict, to understand. Soulmate? One and only? Destiny? Hell yeah! It surely sounds better than:" I squandered my life on mediocre twat because I lacked guts in the beginning and later I was to lazy to change anything." So there is love. There has to be love. Because interpretations are our facts. And if love is what motivates us - sky is the limit!

I especially liked the ironic addition of Jacob Palmer (Ryan Gosling) - obviously intelligent, beautiful, hardworking and accomplished character with seemingly moral significance. And if you watch carefully this pretty picture educates no moral whatsoever. There is no fallacy in his womanizing nor is he reprieved by discovery of love. He is the only intelligent, purposeful subject of this entire story even being only an object.

Perhaps, it has been speculated, optimism confers a survival advantage by helping people cope with adversity.

... but does it really? Does optimism really offer survival advantage by helping people cope with adversity? And which terms it stipulates? And what is the price for such luscious arrangement?
There actually are answers to these questions. Sadly, many of them I already know and sadder still they only serve to strengthen my belief that "people" is unjust aggregation of individuals who steer their life by interpretations seldom comparable by content even when caused by immediate and proximate common experience.

It was, nevertheless, beautiful day here in Zagreb and I went for a brief walk to reward myself for being such a good and efficient little trooper today and writing a big chunk of my research paper. I also had some company and consequently an opportunity to socialize, communicate, learn and emote. We ate pretty good kebabs and sat in the shade on Opatovina, listening to Histrions rehearse for their grand opening of "Histrion Summer" tonight.

Sun Spots

Waking up is beautiful this summer. We have just watched Tristan & Isolde, my friend and I, and by watching it together I have, for the first time, realised just how much difference openness to experience makes. "You don't have to understand here to be here" Charlie Crews says and it reverberates through my experience... rearranging stuff that's already there - shuffling it around like plastic bag in the wind. And it is what it is, this lack of experience needed to be able to continually re-interpret the situation in the film. It is an absence that rolls the dice, just as experience would if there was any. Sun spot both illuminates and blinds.

Dreams To Forget

I went to see my friend perform tonight. She is aspiring singer-songwriter still searching for her true voice. Sitting there trying to look relaxed and spontaneus I kept thinking about dreams; are there unfit or unworthy dreams? Do we weave them or do they sculpt us? Is there a time we should give up on wanting to change ourselves so that change would stop threatening our intimates or is their reluctance to accept change just another sign of disrespect? Should the timid seize given chances in unlikely times of courage or should there be dreams that came to existence just to be forgotten, supressed, cast away?

Research note - EOS

There may come a time to compare notes and to recheck findings. If that time indeed comes I want this to be documented: "It is my opinion that this is a mistake on your part. This will be the candle on the cake of your indecisiveness. Rareness that I spoke of was grossly missrepresented on my part - acceptance of both advantages and vices one person harbors is incredibly rare if partner indeed acknowledges their existance, as it was the case here. Some conditions you cannot replace, cannot replicate. I hope I would be wrong and I wish you good luck. Thank you for everything. It was fun and I enjoyed this very much. Although I am not surprised by course the events took, I am greatly saddened by it. Goodbye. Take care."

Construction site

Through porotherm brick I saw the first snow slowly and fluffily cover the asphalt beneath the street light. It smelled like construction site should smell: it smelled of lime and of cement and of wet wood and of dust. Snow and intermittent breeze rustled the nylon fabric that covered the building from the outside.

You bit my lip muffling the sigh, legs wrapped around my waist, until the skin gave in and one large drop of blood rolled over your glistening breasts to the floor.

In slow motion.

Surreal.

Green irises glittered in the darkness staring into my eyes as I came, holding your buttocks in my palms.

Firefly

Rotating spark in the flame of discord.

Everything that is left from you:
Bundle of unasked questions
And pages of fat books too empty to ever be written.


Touch me, Universe...


Like a drop of blood from the eye of space,
Perfect point of perfect geometric object,
and what else could you be than monument to the fallen in some ancient, too ancient war
waged for some sorrowful doomed desire.


Soulbeats rather than heartbeats.
Momentum of extravagant footnote.
Unrecognized manifestation of essentiality.


Space ligature is too weak, and time ligature is inexorable. Not even the shape of dream matter could withstand the leavening of the only word I could divulge to you right now.

Nerve Zero

Light. Smoke. Murmur. Glasses tinkling. Distance.


Our gazes meet in the mirror.

Over somebody`s shoulder she follows my gaze sliding down her back in open back dress and slowly moves her naked leg through dress slit as if she was checking out her heel.

I remove sugar crystals from glass rim with my finger and put the finger in my mouth, licking them off.

Her pupils dilate.

Red Moon

We`re lying in hammock strapped between two trees. I `m scratching her forearm with my fingertips and her head is resting on my naked chest.

Night breeze blows away the smell of fervor.

- Our garden. - she says.

- Our garden. - I repeat and then deeply, deeply, into even the farthest alveoli breathe in the musky scent of her hair.

- I have to go home. - she whispers.

- I know.

Blood moon hangs from the horizon.