Random reflections:
2.The 'conversation' is an end in itself. It exists in a different realm, an enchanted one, creating a connection between two different universes and the multitudes inhabiting them. It is alchemy, but not the kind that seeks pure gold. It has no point other than to be. Feels like being in a good existential French movie.
3. It enhances every cigarette drag especially morning ones, alerts me to the sounds around me, and helps me pick good music. It wakes me up early in the morning with a yearning to suck at the nectar of life and invites me back to jot down very random thoughts. An unsolicited gift which was not even gifted. Feels like borrowing a novel without permission.
5.The modern Malta I love: a Brazilian, an Argentinian, a Romanian, a Serb, a Latvian, and a Maltese sitting around a table celebrating Orthodox Easter and talking about the good things in life. Feels like being in a good Spanish (Almodóvar like) movie. The good things in life.
7. In between days. I always feel in between things. Then there is the attraction of the elusive. So it is a kind of loop.
8. Schrodinger's cat in an inbox on an iphone.
10. Spending time with a dog is a wonderful learning experience. I never had a dog. When I was a child used to be scared of them. I am also told that as a baby an over enthusiastic dog called spotty had jumped on me. What striked me most about this experience is that dogs have a personality. They have their own networks (of smells) and they have more comfortable relationship with shit and corporal smells. They also communicate emotions and affection, which may be for purpose of a reward but how delighted I was when Asti came next to me in the middle of the night. Then there is the sociological aspect; how dog people interact in parallel to dog interactions. But the most surprising thing is that you can talk to a dog. Not that the dog understands human language. But neither does the dog ignore it. In some instances you get the sensation that the dog is responding to your thoughts and feelings. Then finally there is the leash. Can't but admire the rare moment of anarchistic refusal to follow the lead. Of course part of it is human projection. But there is something beautiful in the relationship, the tensions which underline affection, protection and freedom....of course not dominance in my case, pity the dogs owned by bigots and fascists.
13. It is hard to reconcile my firm belief that life is a string of random coincidences with the yearning for narrative. Some good things appear from nowhere, then disappear just as randomly, without reason. The attempt to impose narrative becomes a loop that can sour experience and innocence. If one believes the material universe follows the logic of randomness, then certainty and closure cannot be demanded. It is here that my flirtation with submission begins: breathe, step back, let go—but still believe. Still I am torn. In novels people do irrational things. They do not submit. They try to shape their narrative often with tragic consequences. Not exactly my cup of tea.
