NUMB - murderer.

Unpredictable were my actions,
Just like his arrival,
Into the untamed depths of my abstractions

I heard them saying threatening things,
About me and Newfoundland,
As if we were a frightening mighty mind,
As if I was the Demon Witch,
Unwanted fallen down to Earth,
To damage their happy, joyful lives,
To take their youth, to take their lives.

Unpredictable was my sorrow,
Realizing that
The rain was me,
The wind my soul,
My tears the see,
My birth the snow,

Their minds the murderer,
Who defeated me.

I think that I chose this poem to explain a few things about it or about poetry in general. I've written it myself, although at school it says that it's written by 'anonymous' for a reason unknown.
(I only put 'anonymous' there because it seemed funny to me, before I actually looked at it. Then I started to blame myself for not putting my name there.)
Anyway, to me, this whole poem seems a little incoherent. The three first lines are telling something completely different from the following seven lines, and only the end of the poem makes some kind of sense.
The metaphors in the third paragraph are there only because of a very simple reason: they sound beautiful!
Most of the time, when somebody is analyzing a poem, they're very eager to find some special meaning within it, some kind of a supernatural message. But what if the author didn't really mean anything by it? What if it was nothing more but words trying to get out and be heard? What if, what if...
I'll tell you something: It doesn't matter how hard I'd try to convince you of the fact that there's actually nothing extraordinary about this poem, that it's just a flow of words, you must not believe me.
It doesn't matter how bad your poem is, or how good; how sad or how happy, how very superficial or emotional... It always contains a piece of you and it always tells something more about you. Don't try to run from it. Would you run from your mirror image if it told you that you could really use some sleep because you look like a freaking scarecrow?

* The video is an awesome song by Linkin Park, called 'Numb'. You can tell that Chester, the lead singer, knows perfectly well what that girl's feeling. He has a lot of experience with it, being a weirdo and a geek.

The Haunted Palace: Memories

In the greenest of our valleys
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace-
Radiant palace-reared its head.
In the monarch Thought's dominion-
It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion
Over fabric half so fair!

Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow,
(This-all this-was in the olden
Time long ago,)
And every gentle air that dallied,
In that sweet day,
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,
A winged odor went away.

Wanderers in that happy valley,
Through two luminous windows, saw
Spirits moving musically,
To a lute's well-tuned law,
Round about a throne where, sitting
(Porphyrogene!)
In state his glory well-befitting,
The ruler of the realm was seen.

 No, I'm not writing this entry to talk about a palace of some sort or write a review of this poem written by Edgar Allan Poe in 1838. I also do not believe this poem is simply about a palace or a mansion; it has more meanings or, at least, one very peculiar meaning.

To me, this poem symbolises a family, quite wealthy, because of the fact that they might live in a palace or in a huge mansion. We, hereby, follow the unfolding of all of their secrets and hidden identities. This, of course, does not just happen at once, but continually, even slowly.

At first, they undergo a state of happiness, wealth and success. It seems that there's absolutely nothing where it all can go wrong. Yet, it does, and it happens so suddenly that they, just like us, do not understand what's happening at once. They might even think it's just a little burst in their perfect floor, which can be covered up or even be erased. No one will ever notice.

Alas, I must inform you that this is not a story which ends by the words "happily ever after". Suddenly,  but not as sudden as before, this burst begins to grow bigger and becomes almost impossible to conceal, though they do succeed to hide it from the others. Do you see the problem already? If you don't, then let me explain it to you: they, desperately, try to run from all those sources of difficulties they're about to face, instead of actually facing them and fight them.

Their foolish behaviour and ignorance are turning this whole matter into a huge mess. It takes only a few acts to get to the point where there's no turning back anymore.

And the outsiders, though not speaking about it, are watching them while they keep falling deeper and deeper. The clock is ticking. But why does everyone refuse to act? Underneath the skin of this entire performance, rests a big disrelish of the characters towards each other. When the one falls, the other will look, but will not see. He'll hold on even more tightly to his source of balance and will simply ignore the cries for help and will laugh with another's misery.

All will speak about this. How they tried to stand their ground, and yet, how they did not fight. How they just let the flow take them, because they believed they were not strong enough to confront it.

And all will remember their mistakes and learn from them, recognize a problem when they see one and, eventually, just face it.

What happened will stay in their memories, The owners of the palace will stay in their memories, haunting their minds with warnings. No room for romance, will they whisper, nor for feelings. Watch your steps.

After all, their sweet duty was but to sing in voices of surpassing beauty, the wit and wisdom of their King. Where, I ask thereby, could it possibly have gone wrong? They'd be the ones to know.

And all with pearl and ruby glowing
Was the fair palace door,
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,
And sparkling evermore,
A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty
Was but to sing,
In voices of surpassing beauty,
The wit and wisdom of their King.

But evil things, in robes of sorrow,
Assailed the monarch's high estate.
(Ah, let us mourn!-for never morrow
Shall dawn upon him desolate!)
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.

And travellers, now, within that valley,
Through the red-litten windows see
Vast forms, that move fantastically
To a discordant melody,
While, like a ghastly rapid river,
Through the pale door
A hideous throng rush out forever
And laugh-but smile no more.

- Edgar Allan Poe, 1838

Shattered Glass

What will happen to a journalist who, let's say, writes articles for one of the most serious and most respected magazines of the country if he lies?
What will he do if someone finds out the truth? If someone finds out that most of his articles were based on pure lies?
Where will he go when the truth reveals itself?


Shattered Glass tells the story of a young journalist, named Stephen Glass (portrayed by Hayden Christensen), who is known for his highly imaginative articles and impressive stories.
This movie is not just a movie about lies and good and bad people, but it has a certain philosophy which is very hard to understand without giving it a good thought first. It's about making the right decisions, not good decisions; about hard work where there's no time left for telling lies; and most important: about how it all works at a huge magazine like the one Glass's working at.


I also have something to say about the performance of Peter Sarsgaard (Dead Man Walking; Boys Don't Cry; Flightplan) in this movie. He portrayed the new editor of The New Republic (the magazine Glass is working at) and was only a supporting actor. Despite that, for his multi-layered performance Sarsgaard received a lot of awards, including ' Best Supporting Actor' and others.
If you ask me, I'd say that he showed his best acting skills in this movie. He was totally irreplaceable!


I strongly recommend this movie to everyone who reads this. It's so worth your time!