Monday, July 22, 2002

Windmills of Your Mind

Round, like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel.
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
Like a snowball down a mountain
Or a carnaval balloon
Like a carousell that's turning
Running rings around the moon

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Like a tunnel that you follow
To a tunnel of it's own
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble
Someone tosses in a stream.

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle your head
Why did summer go so quickly
Was it something that I said
Lovers walking allong the shore,
Leave their footprints in the sand
Was the sound of distant drumming
Just the fingers of your hand

Pictures hanging in a hallway
And a fragment of this song
Half remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair

Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circle that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Pictures hanging in a hallway
And the fragment of this song
Half remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair

Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Words and music by Alan Bergman and Michel Jean Legrand

Friday, July 12, 2002

One day in paradise

Yesterday i had one day in paradise. Caused by a heavy migraine i just did not want to think, to listen or see anything at all. I switched off the radio, closed the window and remained in my bed. Awake, but without any deeper thought i held this status of complete disconnection from anything important for one whole day.
And even if my head tried to implode with every move or noise, it was a great relaxing and comforting experience: nothing to do, nothing to think about, just letting the time pass and not even noticing it. Unaware of the world outside, unconscious for any responsibility, floating in a limbo of ignorance i came back to this world and felt: this is what we lost. This was our life in eden, a life we abandoned in exchange for consciousness and development. But sometimes, if we are in heavy pain, we may go back for a short time. I am just not sure why: It could be either a heavenly grace to sustain times of agony, or a mean curse - a bad sardonic lesson because when its over, the burden of life outside of paradise has to be taken again. And then you realize that this self-determined life may be worse than the greatest physical pain.
I can understand these People, who would like just to get back into their pod, dreaming a happy life, chewing on a imaginary steak and humming "Mmh, ignorance is bliss!". They would love to live in the lies of an comfortable hell and kill for it. I have an idea now, why.