Poem

Even though German can be a very harsh sounding language, this poem is far, far better when expressed through the language it was written for, as is the case with most poems.

Buddha in der Glorie

Mitte aller Mitten, Kern der Kerne,
Mandel, die sich einschließt und versüßt, -
dieses Alles bis an alle Sterne
ist dein Fruchtfleisch: Sei gegrüßt.
Sieh, du fühlst, wie nichts mehr an dir hängt;
im Unendlichen ist deine Schale,
und dort steht der starke Saft und drängt.
Und von außen hilft ihm ein Gestrahle,
denn ganz oben werden deine Sonnen
voll und glühend umgedreht.
Doch in dir ist schon begonnen,
was die Sonnen übersteht.

Rainer Maria Rilke, Sommer 1908 (vor dem 15.7.), Paris

Fate!

I just found this randomly and I am taking it as a sign that I must move to Seattle :) YUS!

FDB, Observations and Incidents

FDB stands for "Fuck Dublin Bus". This new acronym really sums up my evening. I missed my bus by 1 minute because it was early. Then I walked over to another bus stop about 5 minutes away because there wasn't another bus for a half an hour at my first bus stop. A bus didn't turn up at my other bus stop either so I ended up going back to the first stop and getting the bus there. Feck sake.

Happily however this did lead to some observations and one (in retrospect) amusing incident.

Observation 1)
Women in heels trying to run while carrying an infinite amount of shopping bags is just plain comical.

Observation 2)
When I am waiting for a bus, if one comes from the other direction I still look at it expectantly, as if I think it should turn around and be my bus.

Incident of amusement:
I said that I left the 2nd bus stop because no buses came. That is only partially true. The main reason I felt the irresistible urge to vacate my spot as quickly as I did was because the dude standing beside me kept farting. I know this because he leant forward every time. That's right. Leant forward.

More random ramblings

This time I was inspired by the profound effect that the rain was having on me that day. I haven't been so thoroughly soaked by rain water in a very long time.

"Sorry seems to be the hardest word..." whispers the voice in my ear. Why, on a cold, wet night in the middle of November do these words seem to never have rang truer or louder? Why, on a night like this, do words such as the ones I am hearing appear to hold more weight? Is it that the rain is slowly but methodically seeping through my cheap and dreary coat, chilling my very being to the core, and so having a greater impact on my already melancholy mental and emotional state? Or simply because rain heightens ones ability to be brought into a state of quasi-depression (especially when one is Irish, and by default a pessimist). Who knows? No one. That's who.

Are you serious?

So there was a protest in Dublin recently against the raising, possibly doubling, of the registration fee for colleges and against the 10% cut in the maintenance grant. As if the subject of this protest wasn't enough to get students angry, the gardaí used excessive force on peaceful protesters.

See here for videos

It has been announced that there will be an inquiry into the matter by the garda ombudsman. NOT NEEDED! If you look at the footage, it is plain and simple that, for the most part anyway, the gardaí acted without provocation.

I am now scared of people who are supposed to be protecting me, my family and my friends.

Random Stories (or parts thereof): Take 1

Sitting on the train, looking out of the window to the dim lights of the next city across the bay, I remember the couple that passed my way earlier in the day. They were holding hands, and they were in their 70s. Remarkable really, when you think about it. Imagine being with someone for so many years and still wanting to hold their hand. Imagine loving someone for so many years. The lights are closer now. The train pulls into the station. People get off, people get on. The train pulls away. On to the next city.

Autumn

The myriad colours of the trees, the crisp crunch of the fallen leaves, the smell of burning wood.

Walking home is now a thing of joy to me.

This is why I love Autumn.