Eye of the Storm

losers weepers (9) little white balls and a red rose on the wall

2009-03-05T18:11:00.010+02:00

When I was a little kid, my neighbours decided to buy a table-tennis... well... uhm table. It was kept under lock and key in the storage by the block entrance. However, each summer day, the guys in my block and their gang down the street would take the table out and start playing, organising matches. I love the sound that little white ball made and I was watching like hypnotised from my balcony, both its constant movement from one player's side to another and the fancy strokes one of them would sometimes put up for show.

I was rarely allowed outside on my own back then (and when I was, I was watched) but I used those occasions to watch from even closer. I had some paddles from my brother and sometimes I took them with me but I was usually too shy to ask (or maybe unconsciously wise enough to avoid a refusal) to play too so I usually settled with playing ball-boy. At some point, I know I did play a set with one of the 'grown-ups'. Till 6-0 that is.

My folks somehow disapproved of me fetching the balls for the guys, as well as of their company so when I wasn't allowed out, I vented my frustration guerrilla style, by throwing little lumps of earth from the flower pots on the balcony onto the ping pong table and quickly hiding in order not to be spotted (unnecessarily to say it was quite obvious it was me anyway).

And just as a side-comment of some significance: one of the guy's name was Mio (well, Miodrag actually)(whom 8-year old me thought was cute) and he was the prime suspect of scratching and drawing a red rose and the letters D and M onto the walls of our block's hallway. And that was somehow a bad thing, though I don't know why. Well, I know why scratching the walls is a bad thing, but the rose was kinda nice so I don't know why my brother was appalled by it. Much later did I find out that DM and the rose stood for Depeche Mode whom my brother as a declared rocker (though underground listener) felt the need to repudiate in public. Paranthesis closed.

Well, after a couple of years I got over the not-being-allowed-to-play-ping-pong drama of my life. I was old enough to be able to (difficultly) carry the table together with a neighbour's guy of my age. The guy had a net for it so we spent quite some afternoons ourselves playing. He also had a cool bycicle from his father (as some sort of compensation for him not being there anymore since his parents got separated, but his father was a cool guy himself) and I would sometimes ride around the block with him. On one of those occasion he tried to kissed me, as I figured out later, since I didn't have the faintest idea what the heck he wanted so I pushed him back and we nearly fell with the bike.

However, at some point later that year, with my neighbour's father moved away and the two other guys playing leaving the area, the big mean grown-ups (and hysterical old hags) decided that since no one in our block was playing, the table should move to another block's storage and it should stay there, since the constant clatter of the ball - the sound I so liked - was disturbing their summer afternoons' peace and quiet. Apparently me and the neighbour's boy were 'nobody'.

Thus, the table and its hypnotising little white ball went away; after a while the neighbour's boy went away too. And the red rose was painted over with fresh paint on a big renovation. Most of the times it's just like none of them really existed in the first place. Seems they are there though, in a dusty corner of my mind, ready for sudden keyword-triggered flashbacks. And the keyword of the day is 'ping-pong'. So...

darksander (3/5/2009 6:02:30 PM): credits go to me then.

Ego

2009-01-07T02:01:00.003+02:00

In the end, it matters little if I am the way I am because I chose it or because I cannot be otherwise, even if I try. I can only succed for a short time pretending to fit in... so why bother at all? Why not face it that I do not like the things people usually like or pretend to like and do not want the things people usually want or pretend to want.

The little break I get from raised eyebrows while faking interest is all but nullified by the stress of maintaining a facade. I do not wish to be anything or anyhow. I am content to just be.

two in one morning promotion

2008-12-12T02:04:00.004+02:00

a promotion of flashbacks, what else? you know, the ones i usually get on my morning walks home from work. i s'ppose neurologists or something like that could better explain the why's of these things happening. for me it's just like some kind of enhanced perception thingie that sometimes throws me out of my tracks but that i usually rather enjoy. because of some illusion of control over time.

remembering insignificant bits that stuck in my memory against hope makes me feel like... like i am saving bits of fabric that come undone behind me. it's like i'm walking on a tapestry suspended in mid-air, weaving it as i go while behind me it just comes undone and vanishes forever, like it never really was there in the first place. recollecting such little things, so forgotten yet so part of me is like i'm reaching back and making sure that some strings still remain tied together... that i indeed passed at a certain moment through a certain place and it was not all a grand illusion of colours and smoke.

the first bit hit me as i passed a huge puddle that is usually always there. what it triggered was a memory from when i was a little kid and some water pipes had broken in my street, leading to the street being flooded. several square meters of puddle. and while our parents were angry because of household utility and cost reasons, us kids were in paradise. mud had formed and we were playing in it, "building" structures, following the patterns that the flowing water made from where it sprung out of the asphalt down to the manhole it flowed in, watching the plants that growed, splashing... that sort of thing. it was heaven... until the people from the utility company came and repaired it and ruined all fun... and for days when passing the spot where the water had come out we would look there filled with the hope that by some unknown (and uncared for) miracle, the water would come back.

i walked on smiling to myself at the memory when the second flashback struck. honestly, the feeling when this happens is just so weird... i can't properly describe it. so two in a row is a bit much. but i saw the cranes on the construction site nearby and i remember this one time in kindergarden...

we were sitting in a semi-circle and there was this big drawing of a city, a typical 'communist' one. a building site with huge cranes and construction workers, blocks of flats, a park with small children playing, some pupils in school uniforms crossing the street... cars, buses... well, the usual, it just had this little 'communist' 'everyone happy working for the fatherland' touch to it.

we were to name the objects we saw in the drawing, then go and point them out to the other kids. one by one. and after that, we had to name the different colours we saw on some little drawings of the objects in there, put separately on a board. like "that crane is yellow" and "that girl's uniform is blue". when it was my turn, there was a picture of a car left and i had to name the colour. so i looked at the car a bit puzzled. of course i had seen the colour before, i had just never given it a name in my had. nor did i know what to call it. so i said the next best thing that seemed similar, though i knew it was not precisely that. i said "yellow". and then the teacher explained that it was not yellow, though it was close... it was "orange". and that's how i learned the word orange.

and i recalled the entire scene just because i had looked at those darn cranes... leaving my head swirling with sensations up to the time i finally got to bed to rest my brains... and induce some consciousness blockage to bursts of streams of consciousness like these.

losers weepers (8) the end of innocence

2008-11-18T16:09:00.006+02:00

I just remembered the first time I ever lied.

I was in kindergarden, four maybe five years old. The teacher had us run around in a large circle or something like that. We were having some sort of gym class. And a boy pushed me rather roughly and I called back to him "stupid!" or "idiot!" or something similar. Not a very bad word anyway, now in a hindsight :)

After the gym class, the teacher called me and the boy to her and told me: "Theo said you called him stupid. Is it true?". And... you've guessed it. I went red to the tip of my ears, I think. But I said "No", loud and clear. The teacher looked at me menacingly and said "I will find out the truth eventually". And I believed she would. I believed until the end of the day she would, by some supernatural-like power that adults maybe have, find indeed out the truth and I would be punished. For something I had done and denied, though I still considered it justified. I mean, the guy was - or at least had behaved like - an idiot.

I had this sicky lump in my stomach the entire day. Not so much a bad conscience, as fear. I had lied, my first lie ever, to save myself from precisely that punishment that I feared would fall upon me eventually. Which it obviously didn't and that was a good thing, I guess, for it shook off some of that aura of supernatural power that I assumed adults must have. They really don't know everything, don't find out everything or even if they do, they couldn't really care less.

I don't even know precisely where that fear was stemming from. I had never really been properly punished, yet that spectre of punishment somehow hung over my head very menacingly. Stories I had heard, I guess. Yet, look what they made me do, sooner rather than later. And... heck, I'd still do it. I'd still rather lie than get in any kind of trouble, even be it a sad look, a raised eyebrow or a moderate lecture. Though nowadays I prefer omittance.

versions of violence and other barks

2008-09-22T23:47:00.006+03:00

i dreamt of kara this afternoon. she had crawled in some den with entrance in the garden next to our block and wasn't feeling very well; apparently she had swallowed a (deflated) football. i was trying to get it out of her, either making her throw it up, or else i had caught hold of it down her throat, am not too sure - when my father called out to me. there was someone there who wanted to see me. i was reluctant to leave her side until i had gotten that football out, and there were also some boys from the neighbourhood around demanding their ball back but he insisted, so i eventually went to the entrance of the den to see the person. it was my brother.

until i went to work later at night i listened to alanis' versions of violence on repeat for almost two hours and... well, i'm probably guitly of most. and i'm probably marked by most, too. but that's the way it goes with most of us, i guess, mostly unaware.

when i got at work for my nightshift, the dog in the yard my office window is facing was barking his usualy two-note bark. he has a very monotonous barking, like a bored clerk doing a routine duty. same two notes, barked halfheartedly. on and on and on and... some of the folks here find it disturbing noise. i find it... sad. for some time i used to try to imagine what the dog looked like from his barks. i pictured him as a big dog, long fuzzy fur, grey or maybe dirty white. kinda like a big unkempt shepherd dog. well, turned out i was only right about the fact he's old and the shepherd bit. he's a german shepherd, though. nu fuzzy fur. as sad and worn out looking as his bark sounded. so that i could really not hear a change in the tone of his bark when one of his human family members comitted suicide. a sad bark's a sad bark. and some dogs didn't even get that. r.i.p.

losers weepers (7) mr. duck

2008-09-11T01:57:00.006+03:00

i met him again yesterday morning, going home from work after a nightshift. he struck me as... aged. this morning, i met him again... he barely walked, and held a hand on his back, near the hips, as if he was aching.

i have no idea what his name is. i don't know where he lives either, but i know it's somewhere around me. i've known him since i was a kid, by no other name than "mr. duck" (no, not 'drake' as wiki.answers claims a male duck is called). i made fun of him by that name with my brother then. it was because of his walk. his whole body moves from side to side when he walks. actually, more like that of a penguin, but i didn't know of penguins when i was little. that's for how long i've known him. since before i knew of penguins.

i always met him along the same way, coming from the opposite direction in his duck-walk. i always said 'hello', because i thought it was someone i knew - after all he lived somewhere around and i saw him every day and my parents said it was polite to say hello to people you knew. he would always raise his left hand in a salute and say "hello, dollie" to me.

that's how he has always said it since then. i saw him now and again even recently. i gave no further thought to when i did, usually in the mornings coming home. he was part of what should be there, part of the familiar landscape. like the buildings i keep passing for twenty years. because the path i go is largely the same ever since late kindergarden.

as said, no further thought. i always said hello, he always raised his left hand and i could read it on his lips that he always said "hello, dollie". i haven't really walked much around without headphones on ever since highschool and that is a LOT of time ago. i never turned the music off when we crossed paths. that's how little consideration i gave this man who has no name known to me other than "mr. duck" and who has been part of the landscape for nearly twenty years. he hasn't even changed much - he always looked exactly the same... or so i thought.

yesterday i was really struck. i saw he had some difficulty walking and i looked closer at his face. he has aged. a lot. twenty years. and he was probably sick. if yesterday i was stunned to suddenly discover how time has passed over this anonymous duck-dude, yesterday i felt a pang of pity. he definitely found walking a taxing activity. and he was obviously in pain when doing so. he even stopped to talk to me, a thing he had never done. he never said more than hi except maybe on one or two occasions when our dialogue consisted of "school's out?" "yep, for today" or "back from school?" "no, work" "my, you've grown"and then it was while we were passing each other by, not really stopping.

what he told me, as i took off my earphones (yes, i did in my surprise) was along the lines of "look at this, can you believe it, i can barely walk". and my reply was very stupid and very out of line "eh... the joys of 'youth' ". he laughed and said it was true before we each went our way. the next moment i only thought of that as a very, very stupid joke. though it was the very obvious truth. i guess it was just not one of those truths that should be flung in people's faces. and i was the last one to do it, after all i've been calling him "mr. duck" all my life. it just came out of me on the spot.

and i went home wondering in what shape i'll see him next... and struck by the thought that there will come a day when i will never see him again. he will vanish from the landscape, like a tree cut down, or a facade painted over. only much, much less noticeable. see, he is so peripheral and insignificant to 'my world', even though he's always been there in some sort of way, that if it hadn't been for this two days and the way his appearance struck me, i probably wouldn't even have realised that he has disappeared from it.

yet, this morning his presumed future disappearance at some point seemed like a little tragedy. a little selfish tragedy. it was not him as a person i cared about or would have mourned, but my childhood world losing an apparently totally insignificant piece of the puzzle. but it is one of many. like the piece that disappeared when they leveled the 'hill' we used to sleigh down in winter, or the rose-beds around which my dog ran, or the moving out of a neighbour i kinda liked though never spoke to, or a loved t-shirt i've grown out of. somehow, pieces of the puzzle seem to get lost along the way and i never even give them conscious thought as such... i just some days wonder what has gone amiss and what exactly this diffuse feeling of loss is. probably the feeling one gets when looking at a puzzle full of gaps, i'd guess...

anyone know a good lawyer?

2008-09-10T03:38:00.002+03:00

there are songs that simply should not have been written. i mean.... hello? would you please not take my diary, record it on your album and make a shitload of money from it? i guess that is one of the possible reasons why some songs call forth such strong emotions in some listeners - the connections they draw up.

darren hayes for instance, has such a way with words... that i usually instantly develop a love-hate relationship with the songs he writes. been that way ever since savage garden, still goes on. i sometimes really consider sueing the guy for writing about me... though i do have a hunch it might be himself. robbie williams hit the spot a couple of times too, so did others. but if i were to name one song that should've never ever been written (or come to my hearing, at least), it would be a k's choice tune.

K's Choice - What The Hell Is Love
more songs on the site »

He was not so tall and rather fat
Had a Labrador and a limping cat
Born in a country with a broken heart
He had enough money and a credit card
Told bedtime stories to his teddy bear
Gave him lots of hugs and a dress to wear
He had a small apartment, what a lovely sight
He watched MTV all night

Where the hell was friendship
He must have turned it off
And most of all he wondered what is love
What the hell is love

He enjoyed the silence more and more
As he heard the door slam right next door
He had a fancy Parker and a diary
In which he wrote some poetry
And as he went to bed at night
The cat's eyes gave him ample light
To make him lie awake and see
The content of his misery

Where the hell was friendship
He must have turned it off
And most of all he wondered what is love
What the hell is love

Where the hell was friendship
He must have turned it off
And most of all he wondered what is love
What the hell is love

a storm coming in

2008-09-09T23:57:00.001+03:00

what do i do when i should blog, but don't really feel up to it? that's right, i tamper with blog layout and colours and widgets. this time, i actually considered closing this blog. starting a new one from scratch. i've changed my mind, fortunately or unfortunately. it would still be only me and my pseudo-intellectual toxic waste, so what point would be there.

instead, i went for a rather radical look change since it's the first time since i started writing here that i've actually changed both the template and the title of the blog. and to top that off, my blogger identity. so, from this post on, they will be signed as Arashi. it means 'storm' in japanese, just in case you were wondering. probably a storm of more pathetic musings to come, this first one being the eye in the storm mentioned in the title. because i've refrained myself from getting dramatic in this one :-)

stuck in a rut, stuck in a rut, stuck in a rut

2008-07-31T06:47:00.003+03:00

this is so absurd. the fact that it's almost 7 am and i am still up is also absurd. i've been trying to go to sleep, twice until now and i got up every time. i've even considered getting some professional help... for about two minutes. because i pretty much know the roots of all these doubts, just as well as i know where these bouts of depression stem from. and i also know darn well that there's nothing anyone except myself can do about it and i also pretty much know what it is. so why should i spend the money, the time and the effort to even ask. god, i miss my childhood. bit of it. i have some very clear images burned in my mind that i miss dearly... and some dull memories of stuff i wish to hell, too. and i can see it so clearly, the traces some of those totally insignificant moments left... and when i think back on those things... it's like watching a movie that you know, and every time you know something bad is going to happen you just want to shout "NO!". and even in present, i watch 'myself' like in the movies. i watch with lofty detachment how i slowly self-destruct myself. not by actually doing anything... but by not doing anything. anything for myself. i ruin my body and my psyche and at the same time i just sit by and watch... and sometimes shrug... and from time to time, i snarl at those who point that out, or even worse, mean to help. and i make sure to push them all away so i can watch myself letting myself go to hell by not doing anything about it, like i'm someone i don't give a damn about. and i am. this is plain sick...

not to touch the earth...

2008-06-20T15:39:00.001+03:00

this has been a blog long in the making. both because i hate the content (but need to get it out) and because it's kind of hard to somehow bring cohesion to what i mean to write. i know what it is but it's rather intuitive perception and knowledge. i can't quite grasp it and thus i'm a bit at a loss regarding the wording. (ps: which kind of explains why it took me several attempts at starting it, ending in the change of layout for the blog if nothing else much and then a couple of days to actually finish it, after almost a month of brewing it)

for those who don't recognise the (by now probably boring to be used in the title) pop culture reference, it's a song by the doors. not to touch the earth, not to see the sun, nothing left to do but run, run, run.

------

i might have dropped a line or two before about this online game i've been playing for a while now, tribal wars. as circumstances would have it, i found myself in the position to fight rather fierce defensive battles on behalf of a couple of friends while sitting their accounts. because they claim i am such a top defender. i still laugh that off as a poor joke and consider that what has "earned" me that appreciation was nothing more than a fluke, a stroke of luck. being online at the right time, having more time and more patience than my attackers and no other big deal. still, the 'title' has somehow stuck. as said, i was laughing it off until some while ago when, having nothing better to do than brood on my own thoughts, something struck me.

back in the sixth and seventh grade, during sports class i wouldn't play volleyball with the girls, but football with the boys. and guess what position i was playing? bingo! goalkeeper. a pretty decent one. until we had a match with a team of tenth graders and i decided to defend a shot... which hit me straight in the stomach. then i finally switched. to volleyball. where... need i mention it? i had a rather good service shot but where i really felt and did best was... well, obviously defending.

and all these half serious half playful activities would still mean nothing had i not also remembered a line my mother used on several occasions. all of which were arguments. or rather, her saying something and me snapping. and that line she threw in was "stop being so defensive!". and you know what? i am. constantly.

i'm self-conscious on the brink of paranoina (like... if people look at me more then two seconds on the street i get the feeling i'm running around with my jeans zipper open or so, even if maybe they just read the inscription on my t-shirt); i snarl at whoever crosses my lines (which i never draw clearly - because they aren't - or bother to point out); i don't socialise beyond the point of meaningless chatter and that only when i have to and i most certainly don't bond too much or too easy and at some point i always end up screwing it up big time. i pretty much suck at building and maintaining relationships so i don't even try in the first place; so i kind of keep away from people or rather keep people away from me; i use irony as a pretty efficient weapon to that end (or rather, an extremely efficient one) and a certain wittiness to build an appearance of confidence that flashes out (or should...) "do not trespass". and all this to protect a solitude that i both cherish and dread; that i don't want to give up and that gets me depressed at the same time... and that i run back to whenever defense breaks down.

because in the end, defense always breaks down. it's a rule. however, what they didn't say in the technical notes was that in time, it'll happen to crack more and more often. ever so often i find myself running. i don't know why or from what or who. probably from myself. the last long distance run started around a month or so ago... and i'm still catching my breath from it, so to say.

i spent easter and the day after at work in a pretty much deserted building with instant messaging broken down and most people i talk to away. well, people out there actually do have a real life, as opposed to me. i took off the next week to... well, in the end do nothing. i wanted to get away. i was planning on a trip but in the end was too lazy to take it. so i spent a whole week at home, sleeping, cooking and playing games. offline or invisible, mobile on silent and not being paid attention to. i found out at the end of the week that they've been looking for me from work the entire week, calling everyone they knew and inquiring about me. i haven't even counted the missed calls or the offline messages.

i went back to work in the meantime, am working ever since... but i still miss that trip i never took. i miss last year's skipped holiday and i miss the reason why i skipped it. i still dream about her, and not the way i'd like to. i miss talking to people, but it feels odd to just walk into their virtual lives again like nothing happened. odd and ruthless, as ruthless as was walking out without a word. something did happen and i don't know what myself so i can hardly provide a satisfactory explanation. the best way i can put it is that i just broke down, exhausted from running. though to me that sounds overly dramatic... like requiring medical help or so. i don't. i just needed to seal myself off in my bubble, the only thing that could help me short term, and hurting me a bit more long-term, cutting off another thread - even temporary - that binds me to what is usually defined as real life. people say that's bad and i tend to agree that it's not healthy... though i am not quite sure why...

2008-03-29T05:32:00.002+02:00

Your Personality Is

Idealist (NF)
You are a passionate, caring, and unique person.
You are good at expressing yourself and sharing your ideals.

You are the most compassionate of all types and connect with others easily.
Your heart tends to rule you. You can't make decisions without considering feelings.

You seek out other empathetic people to befriend.
Truth and authenticity matters in your friendships.

In love, you give everything you have to relationships. You fall in love easily.
At work, you crave personal expression and meaning in your career.

With others, you communicate well. You can spend all night talking with someone.

As far as your looks go, you've likely taken the time to develop your own personal style.

On weekends, you like to be with others. Charity work is also a favorite pastime of yours.

The Three Question Personality Test

soap bubbles

2008-01-21T05:41:00.000+02:00

yeah, i love soap bubbles. i occasionally go out and buy the crap and spend a couple of hours making bubbles. but that's not the issue of my blog (why the heck is the title never the issue of my blog???).

anyways, i will NOT delete the previous entry, but tnx for the comment anyway. i've said it before that this is the place where i deposit my pseudo-emotional, pseudo-intellectual refuse, so be warned - it's mostly just a pile of garbage here :). but i thought of something to wash it down with (just so you know i am NOT on the verge of cutting my veins or anything).

if i can do anything to help it, i don't get out of the house without my music player (well, except to the shop on the corner and taking out the garbage, i mean, cause that would be plain silly). it's such a deep rooted habit that whenever i forget to take it or go with someone (thus leaving it home) and coming back alone or just running out of batteries... well, that is something that could easily, if not ruin my day, at least spoil a good part of it.

on the rare occasions it happens, i am quite surprised at the "natural" sound of the city - the cars, the buses, the footsteps, the wind, the bits of conversation, the rustling of clothes, noises coming out of houses or building sites or whatever. the feel... strange to me. because i am used to walking around in my little soap bubble, divided from the world not by a glistening layer of water but by tiny ear phones, cutting me off from whatever happens out there. me and my thoughts and my music in a parallel plane of existence, making my way from point A to point B interfering as little as possible with the world out there.

and if for me personally, it is something i like, choose and want (to the point that i get upset when i can't have it), i sometimes stop for a moment to philosophise about how effectively these little devices are helping us (us as in millions of users out there, a considerable number of whom i cross paths with every day) getting cut off from the world, noticing less, interacting less, caring less... making us more and more distinct individuals going our way... you get the point. i am not even going to start debating the pros and cons. whatever. it's just a thought that sometimes crosses my mind.

anyways, i was coming home from work yesterday, obviously listening to music on my player. i was just having a relaxed stroll and the music got to me, so i was kind of walking to the rhythm, moving my head to the song and doing my usual playback. oh, yes, i do that. put loads of passion in it too at times; got me tons! of weird looks and raised eyebrows from people on the street. if it is of any relevance to you, i was listening to young folks (i even playbacked (or at least i hope it was just playback) the whistling parts.

well, along comes a dude entirely fitting the rocker stereotype, all dressed in black, leather jacket, long hair bound back - you name it. listening to his own music, nodding his head to it. for a second we took notice of each other, i smiled to him, he winked to me, i nodded back and we had already passed each other. but hey, it felt good. it was like exchanging some secret signs of recognition between some obscure cult members :))) just two soap bubbles meeting, briefly touching and bouncing away, each on its own way. or just acknowledging the other as just as crazily immersed in some private little universe, living it out, ignoring weird looks and raised eyebrows :)

wormy apple

2008-01-19T06:22:00.000+02:00

that's me. i just love metaphors. don't you?

well... i've been... nowhere, i've done... nothing. or rather, i'm still here, killing off my time as i always do. thing is, the couple of times when i felt like blogging, all i could come up with is kara, how much i miss her and how much it still hurts that she... just doesn't exist anymore. but that's become sort of a private thing now, too private even for this blog.

so... no, that is not why i got up in the middle of the night to ramble pointlessly about in yet another blog too complicated for anyone but me to follow. this is about the single most important thing in the world - me. myeah. don't you just love it how i can come across as the ultimate arrogant asshole? i do. sometimes i wish that was all there is. but there's more to this apple than the shiny peel :(.

they should ban self esteem problems. they should be illegal or something. or they should file them under diseases. at least they'd lock me up in some fine and private place to keep me safe from myself. someone once told me i hate myself. i don't think i do. hate is a passionate feeling, i wouldn't put so much energy in it. i don't despise myself either - that too would mean caring in some twisted sort of way. i just... look at myself and shrug. wishing i wasn't there, wishing it wasn't me, wishing i wasn't like that... you name it.

as much as i pat myself on the back, as much as i'd like to hug myself on some rare occasions... on the whole and altogether i don't give a shit about myself. cuts on the arms, suicide letters, that's emo crap for disturbed teens. i find other, more subtle means to hurt myself, by not caring. stuff like not getting a haircut though it's overdue and not going to the doctor's when i feel something is wrong and keeping on drinking coke when i know exactly how bad it is for me. and most of all, not giving a shit about my own company. in fact, finding it undesirable enough to seek refuge in other worlds and to shut it away from others. because i do not believe anyone would want its company. because anytime someone claims or act like they do in some sort of way, i either get suspicious of them 'wanting something' and sucking up or if i know/believe them persons of good will, i think them seriously mislead by some shiny appearance i uphold and to which i know i will eventually fail to rise up to.

normally, i am quite successful at keeping people away. i've been called a turtle or a hedgehog numerous times. i restrict access to neutral areas and to safe worlds. the downside of it is that i occasionally slam the door in the face of the above named possibly good willed people when they, more or less intentionally, try to peep behind the screen or give some sort of reality to a personna. my spikes go up automatically when i need to give out addresses, phone numbers - if they're a must i stick to messaging -, real names, pictures and when asked personal questions - anything that would make me identifieable in the real world... that would turn the personna in a person, because i wouldn't wanna meet the person and thus i don't want anyone else to. which, i am quite aware, is a silly and at times rude behaviour. it serves the higher purpose of keeping me safe from other and the others safe from me. in a way, it is a means of showing straight away that i'm a bitter apple, in spite of whatever shiny peel appealed to them. why let them bite peacefully and after a couple of mouthfuls discover the worms inside? or... that's what i keep telling myself.

well... so much for wallowing in self pity on early mornings, half-awake O_o.

let the children come to me... mwhahahaha

2008-01-09T02:47:00.001+02:00

Looking for x ray tech schools?

quizzez round two

2007-10-14T17:48:00.000+03:00

blogthings.com this time

You Are 3% Homophobic

You're open minded, tolerant, and accepting.
And you're not homophobic in the least :-)

Are You Homophobic?

Your Taste in Music:

80's Pop: Highest Influence
80's Rock: Highest Influence
90's Alternative: Highest Influence
90's Pop: Highest Influence
Classic Rock: Highest Influence

How's Your Taste in Music?

You Should Be a Science Fiction Writer

Your ideas are very strange, and people often wonder what planet you're from.
And while you may have some problems being "normal," you'll have no problems writing sci-fi.
Whether it's epic films, important novels, or vivid comics...
Your own little universe could leave an important mark on the world!

What Type of Writer Should You Be?

Your Personality Is Like Acid

A bit wacky, you're very difficult to predict.
One moment you're in your own little happy universe...
And the next, you're on a bad trip to your own personal hell!

What Drug Is Your Personality Like?

You Should Play the Guitar

You're very independent - both in spirit and in the way you learn.
You can teach yourself almost anything, even if it makes your fingers bleed.

You're not really the type to sit patiently through a music lesson - or do things by the book.
It's more your style to master the fundamentals and see where they take you.

Highly creative and a bit eclectic, you need a wide range of music to play.
You could emerge as a sensitive songwriter... or a manic rock star.

Your dominant personality characteristic: being rebellious

Your secondary personality characteristic: tenacity

What Musical Instrument Should You Play?

another bunch of tests

2007-10-14T16:58:00.000+03:00

... because i'm bored at work...

I Scored a 100%!

1,797,600

60%

48% Geek

31%

muse-ic

2007-10-13T11:33:00.000+03:00

p.s.: yes, a new dragon (and that's p.s. from pre-scriptum, duh!)

bryan adams, placebo, bajaga i instruktori, hooverphonic, morcheeba, faithless, kasabian, reamonn, pink, alice cooper, marylin manson, uriah heep... names i'd never dreamed of seeing live and yet i have.

and now muse. the right place, the right sound (though i know someone who wanted to kill the sound technician, but i hardly noticed it then and there), the right people... and definitely the right atmosphere. it's pointless trying to explain to people just why i take 8 hour train rides in stride, unslept nights and another 8 hour train ride back just for a couple of hours of concert. so i just let them raise their eyebrows when i announce i'm leaving for the weekend and shrug off their "another concert?" questions.

well... so here i was... trying to sleep away eight hours on the train (which i kind of did... kind of, because it was a zombie like sleep that left me both tired AND with a stiff neck), greeting old friends, meeting new ones... fast forward over hours in queue and aching feet... climax... sleepless night (it was fun... kinda high... but fun), a walk through cold empty streets in a deserted sunday-morning city, yet another bunch of friends and then the even longer eight hours on the train back... and from the station straight to work. needless to say it took a while for humanity to regain me from zombiehood (am not sure they did so entirely, though). definitely worth it, both musically and socially.

goodbye to you, my trusted friend...

2007-10-11T23:50:00.000+03:00

and a long over due blog it is, too. i meant to do it right then, but it was just too much. it still feels kinda wrong to write about it, like sealing it in a box and stoving it away. it's probably better than keeping it inside, but... it's like burying her a second time. the first one was hard enough. and it is so ironic that in the last blog i have expressed my concern over her health... and now... this.it is so unfair. she has done nothing to deserve it. and yes, i know there are millions of people out there suffering, hurting and dying from diseases and i, quite frankly, don't give a shit. they are statistics to me and nothing more. this dog was my friend. this dog has not hurt, harmed, bitten or upset anyone (well except me, when chewing on my favourite t-shirts). and yet, this dog has gone through pains i can't and don't even want to imagine, has gone through the despair of not understanding what is wrong, through the vain hope of us being able to help. i hope that she has gone before going through disappointment at our impotence. but no one and nothing will get it out of my head that those haunting yells didn't have the note of a plea for help in them. and no one and nothing will, i think, rid my of this totally irrational guilt that i couldn't do anything for her. just like i can't escape a whole train of other "if only's" regarding her. like... if only i had taken better care, spent more time, paid more attention to possible signs i might have missed, had more patience, didn't snap during the last days... it's weird, i still can recall the two nights when i just couldn't baer it anymore to hear her cry. the first one, i took a sleeping pill that totally numbed me at first and totally knocked me out afterwards. i just fell asleep next to her, she has probably cried like she had done the previous nights but i couldn't hear. the second time... i snapped at her, then sat down next to her, leaned to the wall and the fridge, put one hand on her head, cuddled under the blanket and tried to sleep to the music in my headphones, ignoring the wails i heard during the song's ending and renewed beginning. i still can't bear to hear this particular song.

it was one thing to know that she will only live until my parents come back... another thing to accept that. in spite of making arrangements for visiting the doctors in budapest, taking more days off to do so, making provision of painkillers (i have become an expert at administering injections to dogs... and i could've sworn i would never be able to actually pierce living skin with a needle, let alone a muscle)... i knew deep inside that there was nothing left to be done. just like i knew it had to be my decision to put her to sleep.

the last day was horrible. the painkillers and anti-contraction drugs started to have nearly no effect at all though i had increased the dose to nearly the maximum. she was crying almost without a break, she was desperate when there was no one in sight. we longed for the vet to come, to relieve her and at the same time we knew we actually counted down the last couple of hours of her cruelly short life. i can only imagine how helpless she must have felt being pinned to the ground, having to call for our attention for such basic needs like thirst, hunger and having her diaper blanket changed, or how desperate she was lest we should leave her alone. unlike rocky, who seemed to have come at peace with himself, who had taken his goodbyes in his silent way, she had a will to live. she was young, strong and... condemned. by a stupid degenerative disease, but in the end, by me. i am glad we did it at home. moving her would have meant more torment and agitation. at least she was in her territory, she knew the doc, she didn't complain when she was given the ketamine that knocked her out. i now partly understand why they didn't let my dad in with rocky. it was mesmerizing to watch the vet prepare the needle, knowing it is what will eventually kill her, even though it is the best option for her. she went peacefully in her drug-induced sleep, with her head in my lap.

for some reason i kept stroking her ear and playing with her soft ears in the car, on the way to the place we meant to bury her. my dad had dug her grave a couple of feet away from where rocky lies and i don't want to know how he felt while he was at it that morning, alone in the field.. she was heavy to carry, as inert bodies are. i wish i had some other last images of her etched in my mind than the ones i have. but the ones that keep coming back is the despair in her eyes in the last days, her head lolling to one side with her tongue hanging out while we were carrying her in a blanket and her rolled up in the grave. i gave her her favourite chewed out toy and a puppet i had given her to hold in the last days. when my dad jumped down to level the first layer of earth over her, it was almost too much. i felt the urge of just wanting to take her out of there.

it's over a month later now. she died on the 5th of september. she would've had her fourth birthday on the 14th. on the 19th four years ago, it had been rocky's turn. she had been the one to partly cure that pain, but we had never expected her to have such a short life. and yet... i slowly find myself wanting a dog again. because nothing... absolutely nothing compares to that. :(

50 % ? embarrassing...

2007-09-30T03:26:00.001+03:00

You Are 50% Normal

While some of your behavior is quite normal...
Other things you do are downright strange
You've got a little of your freak going on
But you mostly keep your weirdness to yourself

How Normal Are You?

hello, hello, turn your radio on

2007-07-17T04:26:00.001+03:00

i'm in one-song periods. i've been to this music festival (no, i don't mean the b'estival, which i know i still haven't blogged about) and one of the bands playing was a romanian band called vita de vie (the grape vine). and they played one of my fave songs, called varza, which means cabbage, which is however a slang term :P so for two days i listened to that song on powerplay. since it's about legalising pot, it has a pretty reggae feeling to it. that's how the streak started, a week ago. it ended today, again in reggae-ish mood, when two songs mainly shared the list. one was amy winehouse's rehab, the other was a pure reggae song a friend gave me, prophet benjamin's ah field, ah weed. (does anyone else notice a common "vice" theme to these?).

anyhow, the absolute poweplays of the last days were the ones in the middle of the streak. and they weren't the cheery ones, obviously (this reggae night thing was more like treatment, than acting how i feel). i mean goo goo dolls' before it's too late and stone sour's bother. i could listen to those songs... well, not forever, but for a long period of time, as i think last.fm will confirm. i missed the goo goo dolls. the song is in the same vein as all of their materials, they're not the most original of bands out there, but they always touch me, mainly through the lyrics. the stone sour one... well, if you search the blog, you'll find it posted somewhere, lyrics and vid. it's an old love, if you can love pain. and it's still the undisputed king in my most played chart.

You don't need to bother; I don't need to be; I'll keep slipping farther. But once I hold on, I won't let go 'til it bleeds

not the most optimistic of songs you've heard, huh? well... it quite caught the moment. and while i was listening to it, a nagging thought came back that i've been trying to push away. i haven't mentioned it here before, but i fear for my dog. it may be nothing, just a lack of calcium or something (she'll have a thorough check up soon, at yet another vet), or it may be something really bad.

and all my un-kept resolutions came back to me. i have no person to care for (save myself, and anyone who knows me can tell you that i don't) and i can't even care properly for a dog :( i care for her, emotionally speaking, but she gives back so little and i've stopped really caring as in "acting on it" for those who give back next to nothing. however, she is a dog. it's not fair to treat her like this as she can't be aware of hurt feelings. i shouldn't project my attitude towards people on a dog and the fact that i can't relate properly to humans shouldn't affect my relationship with a dog. i mean... c'mon, even autists manage okay in that field... before you ask: no, i am not fine. not at all.

Wish I was too dead to cry My self-affliction fades Stones to throw at my creator Masochists to which I cater..

you know the rest. you don't need to bother. because, after all, i don't need to be.

:(

2007-07-10T02:54:00.000+03:00

A black cat moans
When he's burning with the fever
A stray dog howls
When he's lonely in the night
A woman goes crazy
With the though of retribution
But, a man starts weeping
When he's sick and tired of life

I keep on dreaming dreams of tomorrow
Feel I'm wasting my time
Lighting candles in the wind
Always taking my chances
On the promise of the future
But, a heart full of sorrow
Paints a lonely tapestry

The sun is shining
But, it's raining in my heart

No one understands the heartache
No one feels the pain
Cos no one ever sees the tears
When you're crying in the rain
When you're crying in the rain
Crying in the rain

~ whitesnake ~

I'll never let you see
The way my broken heart is hurting me
I've got my pride and I know how to hide
All my sorrow and pain
I'll do my crying in the rain

~ a-ha ~

nothing left to add...

PDE*

2007-07-04T13:12:00.000+03:00

i've written blogs before in which i have expressed my abhorrence toward certain public displays. showing love, fear, embarrassment, pain, gratitude, anger, panic... whatever - in public is perfectly ok and perfectly normal. people who claim that displaying these in front of others is wrong are either completely morons, thinking you can just switch them off, or else emotional cripples who understand neither the strength of spontaneous emotions, nor the tension that constantly hiding your feelings creates. just a personal opinion, that is.

however, putting on a whole show for the public is an entirely different matter. parading your feelings in front of others, showing them to make a point, to spite, to shock, to impress... that is completely not what feelings are about. because feelings are a personal thing. it concerns you and whoever else is involved - which is most certainly not the entire population of your town or the crowd in the street or in a room or whatever.
and this thing goes for 'positive' as well as for 'negative' emotions. i'm fine with PDA. i'm not fine with ostentation in a bus. i'm fine with being scolded (well, as far as fine with that can go), i'm not fine with being yelled at in a room full of people. i'm fine with people not holding back their tears (again, as fine as it gets). i'm not fine with people crying, yelling and tearing their hair out in the streets.

i resent gestures and attitudes whose sole purpose seems to be "hey people, look at me, i'm so in love/angry/hurt right now". because, hey, guess what: we ultimately don't fucking care. or i don't fucking care. maybe i would if you didn't try so hard to make me. but when you put on a show, i've labeled you either fake, or gross or else a nutcase or whatever.

now, what sparked this blog was a glimpse i caught on tv. there's this stupid tradition in this country of the "mourners" at funerals. losing someone dear is a terrible thing, i agree. but the way i see it, you mourn and cry for them in private. because it is something you have within yourself and maybe with the soul of the deceased, if you believe in such. it is normal that traces of pain will show. but to cry and yell and tear your hair from your head and your cloths from your body just to show others how much you suffer and impress them with your pain... it grosses me out. it grosses me even more out that women are hired to do just that at funerals. it's tradition, they say. well, it was perfect for the year 1200, to appease the spirit of the deceased and prevent them from returning from the grave to punish the living and the likes. it is not okay in 2007 in europe. with the risk of repeating myself: G.R.O.S.S.

same thing goes with the public display of religious beliefs. and when i see people making huge crosses when they pass a church and staring at you horrified for washing on sundays and saying a prayer when you say you don't go to church, not even on easter and christmas... i would like to remind you that it was jesus who said that when you want to talk to god, do so in the privacy of your chamber, not parading your belief in front of others.

*PDE = public display of emotion

turtle power!!!

2007-06-23T16:47:00.000+03:00

You are Leonardo. You are a natural leader with a strong sense of honor.

storm

2007-06-23T05:05:00.000+03:00

i can see why the ancients believed that it stormed when gods were angry. i think it storms when they cry in pain... it started half an hour ago... coming from the direction my office window faces. first, the roll of thunder in the distance, and flashes of light without a distinctive source. the rumbling came closer, threatening. the flashes lingered seconds, showing the layers of clouds above... a huge storm front in the north, with clear skies in the east, the margin of the cloud shroud clearly visible. then the lightnings. vertical ones, horizontal ones, single-line ones and zig-zagged ones. it's a godly spectacle. a god roaring in pain and anger, releasing all frustration in mighty roars of thunder and lightning. a magnificent spectacle of several minutes... and then, having vented all, he started crying huge raindrops for tears, hitting viciously on windowpanes. i had to close the window, lest the office carpet should get drenched. silly me has left home without the camera again. not that i truly think i could capture a lightning, but still... the thrill of the chase for a sign of a emotion from a god... i love storms. yeah, i know, you'll think "you wouldn't say that if it caught you in the open". no, i probably wouldn't love a storm then. but i'd still find it magnificent.

i was born too late...

2007-06-20T03:21:00.000+03:00

... in a world that doesn't care... i wish i was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair.

that is one option. c'mon, would've been great to've been a teen at woodstock. but taken that's impossible, how about being born three or five years earlier. i was just looking at sweet child of mine. heck, i swear i would've fallen for axl had the band still been around when i discovered music :)))) i often catch myself wishing i'd... remember things. things that happened during my lifetime but in a time i wasn't aware of them, or interested in them or whatever. i wish i'd... been there.

i've mentioned before how out of place i feel, though i think it's rather out of time. and... well, yes, i think i could've gotten along just fine without the internet and e-mails and mobile phones and digital cameras and 24hr shows on 42 channels on color cable tv and microwave food (well, i don't actually use that, but it just came along the line).

i... fuck, i have no idea what i actually want to say in this post. it's a bit of school nostalgia and... nostalgia in general, but for something i haven't been there to see. like the urge to travel one gets, but not travel in space, but in time. i was born too late... :( hey, i'm as old as E.T. ... he got to his home, i didn't. i'm entitled to be depressed.

i hope i'm not right...

2007-06-17T10:41:00.001+03:00

... this thing has happened twice to me in the past. it might've be a coincidence that a superstition confirmed as fact when it was just that - a coincidence.

first time was in early may 1994. it was but a brief thought that came to my mind then quickly darted away - a thought i laughed off as silly in spite of the uneasiness it caused. the thought was "how would i react if he died today?" followed by a flash of myself, wide-eyed in disbelief in front of the tv. he did die that day, though i was not there to see it. i hadn't had the patience for the race, so i went out to play volleyball instead.

second time, it wasn't a person, but a dog following me to school one morning, in the eight grade. again, the thought came and went; again in the form of a 'what if' and 'what would i do'. oddly selfish way to shape thoughts about others' death, though rather common, i'd presume. i tried to shoo him away, but he wouldn't go. he got hit by a car at the next street crossing. bastard didn't even slow down.

last night, it was an image flash, so short i didn't even realize what it was. it left behind a smell. i was half asleep and it took me several seconds to identify the memory it belonged to. smells are among the most powerful memory-callers i know. then i woke up and also identified that diffuse anxiety that went with it and the two times i'd felt it before. i hope it was just a dream and i remembered it for waking up so abruptly. i almost never remember dreams but for some rare exceptions, which are either very queer or nightmares. so... i hope it was just shreds of what i was dreaming when something woke me suddenly.

ps: nightmare by Paul Bielaczyc on elfwood

random stuff

2007-06-13T02:07:00.000+03:00

i am back, though some might not even know i was gone. amsterdam and bonn in case you wonder and/or care and if not, what the hell are you still doing reading my blog? it is strange how one (or i...) can feel so at home in places i've been but once before. as it is equally strange how a mere change of setting can change my mind frame for the time i'm there. all the nastier the realisation that this here is my life, not that one there. perhaps i will tell you a bit about the trip on another occasion.

on another front... one more down. they're less and less by the day. less strings. a pity or a relief, i am not sure.

work stuff... i got a raise. not much, but it's something. doesn't make up for giving up moderating, but makes the difference between then and now less obvious. i am still relieved of having given that up - the strain on me is much less.

the project... well, just goes to prove that if you want something done, you have to do it yourself. though i've left all materials when i left and asked my 'colleagues' to conduct it, nothing has been done. needless to say we're one and a half month overdue. i don't know who'll sign the report on this one. i for one, won't. i've re-read my mails in october, calling out to people. i stated there and then that i don't have the time to manage all aspects of it. i can't wait for it to be over, so i can formally retreat from any such NGO actions. they've been a thing i took pride in for a long time and they gave me a sense of accomplishment, but i've come to see, quite cynically, that it's not worth my time, effort and least of all involvement. like anything is!

school's coming along ok, though i'm a bit behind with my final paper. seeing that i picked a subject i can plunge myself into out of pleasure, i am not too worried about it though. once i start out on it, it should come along ok. keeping the things in an area that interests me is a lesson i learnt early on. for my last exam, i did a PR campaign plan for a tribe i lead in an online game. for the one coming on saturday, i started work on a website for my tribe on the romanian server. and i enjoy every bit of it.

moving on to the games section... neverwinter nights 2 is the hit. even if only for this, my brand new computer that cost a fortune was well worth its money. and hey, it just looks better on a wide screen lcd monitor :D. the other game i'm in is the aforementioned one. tribalwars. come join on world 8 if you are bored. :D of course, there has to be some bickering and bitter musing about it.

people cheat. they create multiple accounts to support their main one with resources and armies. i don't see the point in cheating in such a game. what does it prove if you are a top ranking player and got there cheating? not a fucking thing - only that you are not good enough to make it by the rules. i can understand theft, arranged football games, bribe, whatever, when it gains something. but this is a game for god's sake. i despise cheaters. bragging cheaters even more so. a colleague of mine got his account shut down for it - all seven of them that is. as much as it pains me to see how it has affected him, i can't help being holier-than-thou and thinking he got what he deserved.

well... what else to report? oh yeah. books. big books. big english books. big english fantasy books. drizzt absolutely rules. i love them. they are my trips away when i'm still here. or when my body's still here. i almost never am.

makes me wonder...

2007-05-04T22:16:00.000+03:00

i have no idea how to start this blog so it will begin pretty abruptely. actually, this thing is in relation with the previous blog: the two were intended to be squeezed in the same post but in the end i decided i should treat them separately, as there is no direct link between the two... merely a stream of consciousness one :) (or 'scream of consciousness, as a friend of mine put it... am gonna change my blog labels to that one - far more fitting).

thus, it is not in direct relation with the respect i give to certain people or the way they lose even the most basic form of it... it's something that happens before they get the chance to do so: i've always been some sort of a snail. cowering in my shell and reluctant to get my antennae out to explore and take the first step in a new social situation. forcing me to do so has never resulted in anything good for me, emotionally speaking. i do things like that in my own time and in my own way, that, admittedly, is hard to understand by most. i also have some apparently weird criteria based on which i choose the persons i consider worth 'exploring' more in depth. however... i did. i bonded on several occasions.

i guess it is a fact of life that people disappoint people. nothing new in that. but it always leaves me with a very bitter taste. and of course, the more i like the person, the more faith i put in them, the higher the expectations, the harder the fall. at some point, i've reached the conclusion that it's just not worth the effort i put in knowing people (again, in my sense of 'knowing'). why bother, really? so i just try to go with the flow, whenever possible.

i'm glad when interaction goes to a deeper level then 'hi, how are you?', but i try not to expect it... and even less expect it to be rewarding in any way when it does. and even when it gets there... i kind of half not expect it to last. it's a darn pessimistic point of view, i know. but what is generally known as 'faith in people' has gone down the drain as far as i am concerned.

so basically i've just retreated back to my shell. if anyone's curious about me, they can knock on my door, i am not going to volunteer to come out. i don't believe in marketing oneself. because i don't want to sell an image. tried that, i don't know whether because i was following a trend, trying to stay in line with the way people my age behaved or because it was an artificially created need... but i tire of upholding an image and it's not worth it in 98% of the cases. so if it's image you look for, you might as well move on without stopping... you're in a rush to live your life anyway and i'm not curios about that.

i still don't have a reason
and you don't have the time
and it really makes me wonder
if i ever gave a fuck about you...

r.e.s.p.e.c.t.

2007-05-03T01:32:00.000+03:00

so... how do i respect someone? well, as much as it may seem a yes or no issue, it isn't. well, not for me in any case. there is a minimum level of respect that i give a priori to someone. for the sheer fact that they exist. a way of acknowledging their existence. things like saying hi and not stepping on their feet as if they weren't there. a respect generally due to every man (as in person, not male).

then there's the respect for a certain thing. a trait like intelligence, kindness, perseverance or an achievement of sorts. i can disagree with one thing and respect another about a person. and then there's the respect for someone as a Man with a capital M (again, as in person, not male). for everything they do, they are, they stand for. and that's of course the hardest to get.

now, the weird thing is... the basic level... it's darn easy to lose, from my point of view. it has happened quite a few times lately. i still answer to hi's and questions asked, though in a rather cold and to-the-point way. and that's about it. otherwise i ignore the person's existence, except maybe the occasional annoyance. but they're not worth a dime in my eyes... and neither is anything they say or do. they may be the kindest, most intelligent, most persevering, achieving person i know... it's nothing without that basic respect. because that person has become a sub-human to me. and it seems so easy these days to fall out of the homo sapiens species...

speaker for the dead

2007-05-01T19:23:00.000+03:00

A great rabbi stands teaching in the marketplace. It happens that a husband finds proof that morning of his wife's adultery, and a mob carries her to the marketplace to stone her to death. (There is a familiar version of this story, but a friend of mine, a Speaker for the Dead, has told me of two other rabbis that faced the same situation. Those are the ones I'm going to tell you.)

The rabbi walks forward and stands beside the woman. Out of respect for him the mob forbears, and waits with the stones heavy in their hands, "Is there anyone here," he says to them, "who has not desired another man's wife, another woman's husband?"

They murmur and say, "We all know the desire. But, Rabbi, none of us has acted on it."

The rabbi says, "Then kneel down and give thanks that God made you strong." He takes the woman by the hand and leads her out of the market. Just before he lets her go, he whispers to her, "Tell the lord magistrate who saved his mistress. Then he'll know I am his loyal servant."

So the woman lives, because the community is too corrupt to protect itself from disorder.

Another rabbi, another city, He goes to her and stops the mob, as in the other story, and says, "Which of you is without sin? Let him cast the first stone."

The people are abashed, and they forget their unity of purpose in the memory of their own individual sins. Someday, they think, I may be like this woman, and I'll hope for forgiveness and another chance. I should treat her the way I wish to be treated.

As they open their hands and let the stones fall to the ground, the rabbi picks up one of the fallen stones, lifts it high over the woman's head, and throws it straight down with all his might. It crushes her skull and dashes her brains onto the cobblestones.

"Nor am I without sin," he says to the people. "But if we allow only perfect people to enforce the law, the law will soon be dead, and our city with it."

So the woman died because her community was too rigid to endure her deviance.

The famous version of this story is noteworthy because it is so startlingly rare in our experience. Most communities lurch between decay and rigor mortis, and when they veer too far, they die. Only one rabbi dared to expect of us such a perfect balance that we could preserve the law and still forgive the deviation. So, of course, we killed him.

-- San Angelo, Letters to on Incipient Heretic, trans. Amai a Tudomundo Para Que Deus Vos Ame Crist o, 103:72:54:2

Orson Scott Card - Speaker for the Dead, Prologue to Chapter 16

the kids aren't alright...

2007-04-27T21:35:00.000+03:00

babies, babies, babies everywhere. worse than in natasha bedingfield's video. everyone around seems to be either expecting or just had offspring. not really my concern except for the occasional thought to the global population boom. but what is my concernc is when the question comes up "and you? when are you going to have a baby?".

O_O. pardon me?!?!?! i never realised that was anyone's business but mine. so my answer is usually "never, if i have any say about it." which in turn, triggers two main type of reactions: either a condescending smile and a you'll-see-you'll-change type of attitude (when i grow up, when i meet the right person, or even more stupid, when i'll eventually have the kids o_O); or else, a shocked expression and "what? but why? don't you like kids?" errrrm. nope. not really.

the pregnancy. i hate the sheer idea of it. the thought that something actually grows inside of me is disgusting and scary at the same time. ok, maybe i could handle stomach worms... but a human being is definitely more than i can handle. also, i don't want to see my body do stuff to my mind; i don't want to see it change beyond my control; i don't want to have emotional reactions triggered by it. pms is bad enough as is, thank you.

the birth. errrrrm.... ouch? i freak out when i need to go to the dentist or having a blood analysis so caesarian section is out of the question ('sides, it's not good for the kid either; emotionally speaking) from the start. i suck at handling pain. and having this... thing come out of me, with people staring up my cunt to take it out... errrrm, pardon my french but... why?!?!? don't give me the 'rewarding feeling' and the 'joy after' bullshit, i'm not swallowing.

child rearing. if there's one torture in this world that sends me climbing up the walls in less than two seconds it's gotta be toddlers crying. (dogs crying does it to, but that's not the issue). and it doesn't wake any nursing feelings, sorry for you, folks. it's... anger, for lack of a better definition. no "oh, what's wrong with the baby, let me ease its distress". it's more like "shut the fuck up, you idiot critter or i'll smash your head against a wall". and in all truth, i think i would be quite capable of doing it. you've got no idea how i feel when i hear that. presuming i ever got so far as to have a kid, the best thing would be to take it out of my reach and quickly. i don't want to spend the rest of my life in jail for infanticide.

little kids. "oooh, myyyyy, what a sweeeeeet little baaaaabyyyyy". sounds familiar? what the heck is it people see in babies? they're not sweet, they're ugly. they're a wrinkled pinkish (we're talking caucasian here) parcel of skin that pees, shits, drools and makes noise. horrible noise. the above mentioned drying. what's sweet about that? tell you something... i've had my share of diaper changing and i hope to never ever EVER! have to do it again. and don't tell me it's not the same. shit is shit no matter what. feeding the child... are you nuts? i'd end up taking my eyeballs out with that plastic spoon before i'd make the kid swallow something.

kids. whims. cries. wanting this, not wanting that. doing the opposite of what they are told. constant supervision. demanding 24/7. needing stuff. growing up to be unthankful bastards until it's too late... should i go on? i guess i am the ultimate selfish person... but i want a life for my own. i want to sleep when i want to sleep, eat when i want to eat, use any language i want in my own home, watch any tv programmes i like, go out in the evenings when i like, travel unhindered and so on and so forth. and yes, i know i won't stay young forever. but frankly, any person out there who thinks of kids as their support in old age is (1) extremely selfish, since you don't make kids and programme them to be your crutch and (2) extremely naive thinking that they actually will be there.

hell, i can't even take proper care of a dog, i am ashamed to admit. and that when a dog demands much less and gives back so much more. i just don't want kids. i am not the right person to have them, either. if by some stupid mistake i did, i'd end up hating them and balming them for never having the life i wanted, even though it may not be their fault after all... but i'd still feel like they stole away my life. and this is not how a child should be brought up :( why ruin their life along with mine, making them live up to expectations they never could fulfil, hating them for their sheer existence, making them feel unwanted, giving un-proper care or no care at all...?

any rational and emotional analysis leads me to the fact that the sane thing to do is not have a kid in the first place. it would be wrong, both for me and for that presumed kid. which leads me back to the first issue. why is this so unacceptable by most? why is my way of thinking less normal or moral or whatever than that of people having kids even though they are just as unsuited as myself for being a parent? why am i the oddity in this freak show, when all i actually do is prevent ugly stuff from happening...

thank you... i'll stick to dogs. one day i gotta do it right :(
'sides, dog pups actually are cute.

losers weepers (5) the rose thorn

2007-04-24T01:02:00.000+03:00

and there are no finders. you don't know what you got till it's gone. and sometimes you know, and you can't help it going away.

one thing i lost very early on is the full enjoyment of success and my respect for poor losers and their envy. it's the former i regret, not the latter. because success is most often hard worked for and deserves something. at least unspoilt delight at achieving it. but... it's lonely at the top.

i was in the first grade. at the end of it, to be precise. i was seven years and almost three months young. it was a hot june day. probably around the 15th of june. last school day of my first year at school.

everybody wears festive clothes: teachers, parents. we are gathered in a small square yard, with broken asphalt, white and reflecting the sun. the walls of the school rose around us. at the first (and only) floor, there was a covered balcony-like thing - it linked all classes there. i can see the windows from my classroom from where i stand. the first one is the window i sit by, second or third desk. light green paint peels off the reel of the the balcony. but that's not what i see when i look up there. i see my parents and my granny. i wave to them.

we are meant to stand in rows. in groups - class A, class B, class C. the taller ones in the rows in the back. i get second row. there's a girl in front of me named astrid. there are several desks in the front. there are books on them. and some papers. i have a flower bouquet in my hands. almost every pupil has one. they will be handed to teachers and then they will pile up on the desks. it now feels like an oddly solemn ritual... we offer flowers and the mighty teachers smile down benevolently upon us and give us books in return. it is warm in the uniform. i hate the school uniform. i also hate the white band holding back my black hair but it's school regulation.

we get prizes according to our end of the year mark. first prize, second prize, third prize and some runners-up. i have straight A's. i'll get the first prize. me and about five others. it's the first grade after all. i switch places with astrid. i wave at my parents. i am proud and keep raising my thumb, signaling that i got first place. as if it is something of tremendous importance. for seven years old me, it is. from the first day i went to school, i had the fix idea that i am not allowed to get bad marks. that getting a 4 will get me punished. don't ask me why or how i got the idea in my head. i think i might have already explained it on the blog.

the teacher comes over. she says astrid and i must switch places. "go to the second row, astrid. let d. come in the front." so it's not about height, like in gym class. front row is for the ones who got the best results. i switch places with astrid. i keep waving at my parents. more discreet now. but astrid isn't happy. and i am finding that out on my own skin. literally. i hear a muttering behind me and it sounds grudging and angry, in a cold way. "d! always d! always in the front". and i feel a sting in my arm. i turn around to look at her. i am shocked at the reaction, the sting hurts and i am puzzled as to what exactly i had done wrong. she holds the thorn of a rose in her hand, that she has torn off one of the roses in her hand. that's where the sting had come from.

the rest is a blur. i got up front when my name was called, i gave the flowers to teacher as had the ones before me, i received a couple of books and the diploma. they didn't give me a flower wreath to put on my head as i knew they did in some schools. but it didn't matter. nothing mattered much. my parents were happy and proud. i was happy and proud... sort of.

i don't know if it was a coincidence or not, next year i got second prize. 9,97 instead of 10. but then again in the third grade and every year after that i ended up being the best in my class. not many more straight A lines, but still the best. up to graduation in the 12th grade. and that sting was always there, in one form or another. even though it never took the shape of a rose thorn again.

Thorn by Tishounette

tearing myself apart

2007-04-23T01:58:00.000+03:00

it seems i have developed this thing into a hobby recently (there, nearly wrote 'hobbit' instead). cutting and tearing away little bits from me and systematically destroying them. i am cutting away people, places, habits... i burn bridges behind me, but fail to move on. what will i do when i set fire on the very bridge i am now, suspended mid-air? i have no wings to fly; i have no one to catch me should i fall. i was merely using this bridge as a swing, idly relaxing on it between here and there above a chasm.

i keep on severing more and more ties. i started this quite a while ago and quite unaware. getting rid of all the driftwood... every single relationship i got nothing back from. or not enough. and they were quite a few. maybe i'm too demanding, who knows? and who cares? maybe i'm just sick of playing give and take without the take part. and i don't care about being polite about it, either.

i am cutting away things i used to do that aren't fun anymore. i can't wait for this stupid project to end. and it sounded like so much fun in the beginning. i simply don't care about it and how it turns out, though i occasionally have a twitch of conscience. at the end of may and the project, i plan to rid myself of any contact with the organisation and its actions. also, i will formally resign my position in the other organisation, the doggy thing, as well. and come to think of it... it's five years of my life that i've invested in these things, with energy and emotion. to no avail.

i will finish my master's degree this summer. i couldn't care less about it, honestly. it's all about the paper :(. and it started from their point of view. well, if all they want is my money, all i want is their paper. a pity. also, i have gradually retreated from my moderating activities. it just takes its toll on me. i hate being in the middle of conflicts. i hate being involved in conflicts. i hate having to solve them between other parties. i hate making decisions.

and now... we come to the closing chapter. once i've cut off all the bits and pieces of this thing called my everyday life that i can do without... why not face it head on and break it? well, because it's a decision. and i'm about the worst decision maker you could have. i can't even decide whether to have rice or pasta with my chicken for lunch. in the end, i go with the flow, or toss a coin, or do whatever feels like less effort...

i've taken all this in stride because it felt like it was better for me, selfish as it may sound (oh yes, underneath it all and an apparent generosity, i am also one of the most selfish persons i know). however, i was fine with cutting away all these useless (as it now seems) limbs because the process and the pain involved affected me in a bearable manner. i could apply some sort of local anaesthesia to make the spot numb. but now... it will hurt like hell. it will erase virtually all i've known as "my life". and the people it will affect in the process... their pain will affect me too, more than i like or care to admit. add to that the anxiety of radical change.

telling myself that it's better in the long run has no soothing effect. i am killing others and my self (as in who i am now) in a gamble. not taking a stance in this however equals a decision in itself, the decision to stay put until it is too late to move on even if i wanted it. it is, psychologically speaking, one of the worst positions i can find myself in. and i perceive it as an utterly unfair thing to ever place me in such a position. so god or fate or whatever it is that pulls the strings out there, eat this: i fucking hate you for every time you screw with my mind like this.

desolated by breathinglesson
torn apart by manfromsun

a dreamer... who would've thought? :)

2007-04-19T19:28:00.001+03:00

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

i'm losing it...

2007-04-19T00:26:00.000+03:00

... or that's what a friend claimed. but here's what my D&D character said. and i quote this:

Thorn looked a few moments at Angy.
"You're still a kid, Angy. You ain't seen nothing yet, I'm afraid." He paused a few moments. "I mean neither to scare you, nor to hurt your feelings (he frowned here) but it's better you're prepared for whatever's out there in your path. My vengeance upon my so called friend in Calimport wasn't terrible, as you put it. I just served him back what he would've brought upon me... One day, you'll be past your grief and you'll discover the anger that has built up. You'll go mad with rage. And if you survive that... though others may not (he grinned)... well, then you'll cool down and maybe discover who you are and where you're headed. Just maybe. People get stuck along the way all the time."

He got up and shook the snow from his cloak.

i can only say... wow! i love the guy.

hmmmphs

2007-04-18T03:15:00.000+03:00

... ilya, i was just browsing your blog and i read your profile text for the umpth time... though the first i actually did it. and i seem to have a serious problem :-s "arrogance and malice are my dislikes". hmmmmph. i indulge in both. and funnily enough i take pride in both. hmmmmph.

well, moving on the thinking blogger award that ilya nominated me for (thanks :D). hmmmph again.

1. postsecret. because we're all so human. and personally, i for one tend to forget. good to be reminded of it.
2. jason's blog. because i still am grateful to be proven ironically wrong, with every post. and because there is so much more to life than complaining. i tend to forget that too.
3. vis urat. yeah, it's in romanian and yeah, you probably got sick of hearing of the dude. i didn't.

that's about it. i read several other blogs but for entertaining purposes only. or because it mocks idiots and that gives me a sense of enourmous wellbeing (like blur feeding pigeons and sparrows in the park - that was a subtle hint to the lyrics of parklife in case you were wondering) and does justice to my arrogance and malice that ilya actually dislikes. hmmmph.

lables

2007-04-16T15:57:00.000+03:00

hey there. as you might have noticed, i've introduced labels to the blog. it was just growing over my head to keep track of what i had written and this seemed the obvious solution. of course, they are just as chaotic as the entries here and maybe not the most relevant you could get, but anyways.

a musing: a-musing - things that should make you smile (quite a pun i've come up with, huh?)
a musing: forever black-eyed - things that make me sigh (not necessarily you too, that is. the depressive stuff; the label is a reference to black eyed, the placebo song)
blog 'n' stuff on the net - entries related to this blog, updates, etc., as well as stuff i've found while browsing that i consider worth sharing
everyday stuff i do - stuff that happened to me or that i've done; little glimpses and updates from my uninteresting life
fantasy stuff - unicorns, dragons, books, movies, games... you name it
losers weepers - a mini series i started longer ago without realising and that i plan to continue under the form of the last entry with this label
music - this is self explaining, isn't it?
muttered under my breath - the stuff that pisses me of :D
readings and viewings - entries triggered by stuff i read and watch, book and movie related musings
stream of consciousness - joyce's skin would crawl at this... but it's basically just me rambling on (the majority of this blog, really)
test and quizzez - because i am a fan of such :)

"manifesting displeasure" and other emotions

2007-04-13T18:03:00.000+03:00

this blog was triggered by ilya's post on her blog, where she was complaining about her boss's attitude towards her. when someone asked in a comment whether she had confronted him on the issue, ilya replied no, but she had "constantly manifested displeasure" about it. okay, manifesting displeasure is the keyword for this post. but first... let's take a traditional detour, shall we?

it seems that last week several people have developed a soft spot for having me as a lab rat for their little psychological analysis. not that i mind much, it rather amuses me. but they were too many all of a sudden, including my mum, which is always bad. she started by asking me what i think of various groups of people, mainly minorities of all sorts - ethnic, religious, etc. then she asked me whether i felt that the university i got a degree from was useful in any way or influenced the way i see the world. for those who don't know, there's "sociologist" written on my diploma (that's the reason i pretend to work in a job that involves picking up the receiver, writing down stuff i hear and passing it on, then making reports based on that.). i said that not necessarily, it just offered names for stuff i knew was out there, tools to categorise them, concepts to name some blurry notions in mind etc. it helped organised what i knew, what i learned and what i perceived of the world. it wasn't like it didn't teach me anything. but whatever it taught, i was like... "yeah... yeah, you're right, i've seen that too."

my mum said that she always thought i had a keen people sense. that i seem to 'read' people and situations and evaluate them correctly and predict the way things develop before they actually head into that direction. i don't know whether that's logic, gut feeling or a combination of the two, but apparently people out there have a hard time grasping some things that to me seem obvious. and i admit i have very little patience with them. it is not out of arrogance (not this time), it is out of frustration. i'd rather invest my energies in something more useful (like sleeping or playing computer games) than debating the obvious.

moving on, she asked what i would have liked to study. looking back... psychology. but i unfortunately, i am accurately aware of the downside. i would've loved to learn it (just like i would've loved sociology taught by the right people and approaching the right issues... :( ), to discover things, to unravel the beauty of the human mind. yes, there is beauty and fascination even in the most grotesque of it. practice though... that would've killed me young or put me in a mental institution. as a patient, mind you.

why? because of empathy. i have it in a degree that is not healthy for me, though i am perfectly aware of appearing cold, distant and uncaring at times. i choose not to know stuff about people, especially their problems, save close friends, and then only by choice. i choose to shrug off disturbing things and to face it with sarcasm and cynism. because it affects me. empathy is not something you can turn off. if something hits me, it hits me. yes, i have said it before... there's one thing i can do and that is to turn off thoughts about a certain issue. but it doesn't work long-term and it sure ain't a healthy practice. those things hidden in a dark closet... i don't see them, but they are there and they nibble at my equilibrum, if not my sanity. so it's not that i don't care about someone's woes and worries. i don't allow myself to care. and that leaves me a statue of ice, cold and rejecting on the outside... and pretty darn hollow on the inside, yes. so far, better than melting away in a dirty puddle.

so, having stated my empathy problem, my mum said that people don't notice that. that they go on rambling and don't notice that it affects me negatively. that she onlt sometimes realises it and stops only when it's already too late. and why i don't state it.

which (finally...) brings us back to the topic of this entry. manifesting displeasure. i don't state it because i hate these "talks". as important as communication is, as much as i recommend it to everyone else, it is not a medicine for me. face-to-face talks on such things unnerve me. so i go for the 'manifesting displeasure' version. if i raise my brow repeatedly, huff and puff, mock you, roll my eyes when you start over or just fall silent and pout for hours... hell, can't you tell that something's wrong? i am highly unlikely to go "shut up, you ass!".

well, it seems some people don't take these signs seriosuly. need a written and signed declaration that this or that bothers me in order to stop? and there go scientists saying that 80% of our communication is non-verbal. so why isn't anyone paying attention to it? maybe they don't even notice. maybe they misinterpret it. maybe they don't take it seriously enough until it is outspoken (though when i get to that stage, it is usually too late). or maybe they thing it is just a mood that will pass.

well, in that case, i've got some other piece of breakthrough news. things that bother me... i don't wipe them away with a sponge. never. i may forgive, but i sure as hell don't forget. forgetting is for fools and for those intent to repeat mistakes. i am a far way from biting people's head off for hurting me (though sometimes i wish i weren't), partially because i know that they are not always aware of hurting me. but when i know they know... i can't stand it when they feel bad about it a couple of minutes or hours or days... and then do the same thing all over again. apologies don't work that way. it's not like "sorry, i don't mean it, so i can do it again". it's supposed to be "sorry, i'll try not to make it happen again". if you don't mean it, don't do it. it takes me quite a time to react to behaviour like this. which, by the way, i define as "abusing me". emotionally. as worse as any other form. and when i do react, it's usually because two things have happened.

firstly, several hurts of a sort have accumulated. while people might be aware of having hurt me, they are usually not aware that i keep these things inside. someone once said to me i have an elephant's memory... "you haven't forgotten, have you?". no... sure as hell i haven't. and everytime you hurt me, it goes a bit deeper. at one point it will strike deep enough to cause that reaction. "every action causes a reaction of the same force and opposite direction" or something like that... it's a law of physics. the trouble is, the reaction doesn't have the force of only the hurt that finally caused, but of the entire accumulated stuff that's been festering inside and is now errupting. and this is much easier due to the second thing that happened by now. the repeated taking in of what i perceive as abuse, intended or not, has lead inevitably to a cooling of my feelings towards the person. resentment has built up with every time or else i am either in the grey area of indifference by now, which makes it easier to hit back.

don't get me wrong. i am not zorro on a black horse, seeking vengeance against all those whom i perceive as having me done wrong. most of the times it's a very spontaneous thing. it's like a dam breaking. i spill out everything i've kept inside. people are usually shocked when i do, though it has seldom happened in a decessive manner. they never saw it coming. because instead of speaking up, i only "manifested displeasure". when i do retaliate it's because i couldn't take it anymore and i strike with thirst and usually under the belt. and honestly... scary as it may seem, it's not only that i don't regret it... i rather enjoy it. it's something like "how does it feel for you?". it hurts. i know. but when i'm there... i'm not only past forgettig, i am also past forgiving.

and after the storm... well, i just retreat back and build my statue of ice again. and i can pretend i am fine again and the world can pretend that i am cold and uncaring.

hurt by madteadparty
ice dragon by tarjcia

emo kid

2007-04-12T14:54:00.000+03:00

schizophrenic is the key word here :))))

2007-04-12T01:37:00.000+03:00

You're the United Nations!

Most people think you're ineffective, but you are trying to completely save the world from itself, so there's always going to be a long way to go. You're always the one trying to get friends to talk to each other, enemies to talk to each other, anyone who can to just talk instead of beating each other about the head and torso. Sometimes it works and sometimes
it doesn't, and you get very schizophrenic as a result. But your heart is in the right place, and sometimes also in New York.

Take the Country Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid

losers weepers (4) the walnut tree

2007-04-07T17:55:00.000+03:00

and there are no finders. you don't know what you got till it's gone. and sometimes you know, and you can't help it going away.

i remember when i was a little girl, only a few years old, that we used to have a garden a couple of streets away from our block. it was surrounded by a high fence of wild, thorny growth that my dad clipped, it was really thick, no one could get in and it was hard to see through. there was a sandpit where i used to play and make forms in the sand. and i'd make a little hole in the sand and pour in water and mix real fast with a stick. and i called the muddy dark water with bubbles on top 'pepsi' and that was about the only soft drink i got to see in those days. we had various veggies there and apart from that, strawberries and raspberries. i 'befriended' two girls from the area, twins. one's name was luminita. i can't remember the other's name. i proudly showed them the garden, including the strawberries. when they were ripe, my dad caught them stealing. and there was a larger pit, maybe a meter deep, with linoleum laid out on the bottom, and there were flowers on its bank, and a little stone garden and that was my mum's sunbathing place. and at one end, there grew a walnut tree. and it grew and grew. and either it grew sick at one point, or else my folks decided there was too much shadow, they wanted it gone. i cried when they killed it and i asked them not to. it wasn't chopped down, but my dad made several cuts across its trunk and it withered and died within a week. it seemed barbaric to me. it happened over fifteen years ago but i remembered it last week. i told him about it and he said it hadn't been a walnut, but a mulberry tree.

oh, really?

2007-04-06T04:51:00.001+03:00

What Your Soul Really Looks Like

You are very passionate and quite temperamental. While you can be moody, you always crave comfort.

You are a grounded person, but you also leave room for imagination and dreams. You feet may be on the ground, but you're head is in the clouds.

You believe that people see you for how you are, not how you look. But deep down, you know that's not exactly true.

Your near future is still unknown, and a little scary. You'll get through wild times - and you'll textually enjoy it.

For you, falling in love is all about the adventure and uncertainty. You can only fall in love with someone who keeps you guessing.

Inside the Room of Your Soul

hm

2007-04-03T01:39:00.000+03:00

how bad is it that given the choice to save ten people or one dog, i'd go for the dog? and how bad is it that i miss a dead dog more than died or moved away family members? and just how bad is it that i don't learn the lessons there are to be learnt? :(

psycho

2007-03-25T11:48:00.000+03:00

bored at work again. i find a topic on the forum about a cannibal allegedly living happily ever after in freedom with his family, namely nikolai dzhumagaliev. i follow the link, read the stuff in wikipedia, google a bit more and think to myself 'hey, the dude is a cross between hannibal lecter and... darn! what was the red dragon's name again?'. so i look up thomas harris. yeah, it was fracis dollarhhyde. of course i diverge into articles on blake's paintings and various other characters in the novels but meanwhile i am caught up reading all about hannibal. the article states that dr. lecter is not a sociopath as he only displays two of the three symptomes. sounds interesting. i click the link, here i am reading on psychopats. there's a link at the bottom leading to the article about fictional portrayals of psychopaths. i warmly recommend it. check this out:

In the past fifteen to twenty years, psychopaths, comedic or otherwise, have increasingly been portrayed in popular movies as caricatured exemplars of a kind of aggressively "hip", permanently jaded, ironic, postmodern sensibility of cool. This type of fictional psychopath assiduously cultivates and promotes his deviancy amidst a pervasively cynical and nihilistic pop-culture wasteland. The postmodern psychopath necessarily exists in a chaotic, fragmented environment — one devoid of any authentic values and feelings, saturated with banal consumerism and ephemeral mass-media simulacra, and informed by what French philosopher Jean-François Lyotard has called "an incredulity toward metanarratives". Hence, extreme anti-social behavior becomes the normative method for negotiating one's way through all of the violence, confusion, vacuity and absurdity that abounds. It is by remorselessly and efficiently committing crimes with depraved deadpan indifference that the postmodern psychopath attains the nihilistic grace of self-referential coolness which is his calling card.

The appeal of postmodern psychopaths in the current popular culture is not entirely clear, but it is quite possible that they are meant to reflect and cater to the narcissism, hostility, jadedness and cynicism of a certain portion of the contemporary audience which prefers to experience garish displays of violence and criminality unencumbered by the implied moral framework of the classical "grand narrative" pretext that is traditionally grounded in the Aristotelian teleological imperatives of justice and catharsis.

errrrm. according to the above quoted and underlined (well, bolded)... aren't we all a bit psycho?

the article then proceeds to analyse psychopaths in iconic works of fiction in literature and cinematography, namely a clockwork orange

It follows that Alex, the rampaging delinquent who abuses his liberty through violent crime, is just as inauthentic a person as Alex the good citizen, who has been coercively rehabilitated by unnatural means and thereby robbed of any free moral choice. Regardless of whether Alex is actively anti-social or passively complaisant, his behavior is ultimately as overdetermined and mechanized as that of a wind-up toy — i.e., "a clockwork orange". In this sense, Alex DeLarge certainly qualifies as a kind of post-human dystopian psychopath

and do androids dream of electric sheep?

The film raises the question of where the moral agency of conscience-endowed humanity ends and the amoral automatism of psychopathic inhumanity begins.

ok, so maybe we are not psychos. for how many of our choices in life are... truly our choices? in how many cases do you by your own accord and free will abide by the rules set to you (and these rules multiply by the day) and in how many do you do it because the repercussions for acting otherwise (i.e. according to your heart's desire) are too high a price - from social exclusion to detention in state or mental institutions. constant acting on my feelings would probably make me passable for the label, though i still have issues with the 'lack of remorse' criterion. anyway, this one dude here strikes a chord with me:

The Marvel Comics vigilante known as the Foolkiller has been depicted in several incarnations, usually as a reactionary crusader. Whom he kills depends on whether or not that person fits his private definition of a fool. As a result, he has killed in cold blood not only criminals, but also average, ordinary, law abiding citizens if only because their thoughts, words, or actions deem them fools in his eyes.

errrrrm. psycho trait. yup. my 'humane' side fights a constant battle under the motto "they are human too. they have a right to live as mother nature made them" with my foolkiller side. errrrrm. i'll let you know if and when the switch burns through. i'm off to practice my psycho glance :)

and if you want to have some fun, check out this page. how psycho are you?

birthday blog

2007-03-20T22:34:00.000+02:00

i've been told i have to write one of these.

now, i have just begun the post and i already have a vital question. what the heck am i supposed to write here? how i've spent my day? just like any other, except i got flowers. how i feel today? not different from yesterday. so i take it that the only thing left to do is... draw a line and sum up. and i hate that. i am a chronic sufferer of high expectations so i always screw up, no matter how high i've reached it's never high enough, and the worst part is i don't even know how high i want to get.

that being cleared... i'm 25 and i feel like i'm 52. i feel i have seen it all and god knows i haven't. i feel like nothing can surprise me and if something extraordinary happens, i'm likely to greet it with a raised eyebrow and spoil everyone's fun about it. there's this romanian poem that goes 'i don't shatter the world's corolla of wonder'. well, i do, with every thought i think. i imbue every thought with pessimism and sarcasm just so i can be prepared. and then i get the satisfaction of i-told-you-so's or of sighs of relief.

i shatter the wonder of each new day with my sarcasm and my lack of faith. in god, in the world, in truth and justice, in people, in myself. interactions tire me to exhaustion - from the paper vendors, to people at job, to family, to close friends - i only pay enough attention to throw in two lines. i don't really care about what they say, what troubles them, what they ask of me. i just want to lie down and be. just like that - standing still in space and time. i've built a double scale of appreciation of people and things according to that. on the one hand: anything that doesn't bother me in any way - good; anything that interferes with my stasis - bad. on the other hand, i know that this is so fucking wrong and such a waste of life and breath. and the part of me that knows that has another measure of value: anything that lets me indulge in this slug-like existence - bad; anything that kicks my ass into movement once in a while - good.

and i want and don't want to get out of this. and if i force myself to think, to really think things over i come to the same results over and over again. and i go back to my shell and yet again start counting time. hours till i go home, days till my next day off, weeks till the holiday, years till retirement. and i realise i am counting my given days away, counting myself nearer to death and... god, i'm only 25. happy fucking birthday.

image: bloddy-earth

time capsule

2007-03-09T02:26:00.000+02:00

there is a feeling i get sometimes when i use means of public transport. firstly, i don't use public transportation much, be it train or trams or buses. when i need to go somewhere, i either walk or get a ride if it's far or the weather is nasty, be it by my dad or by cab. secondly, i only get out of the house without my mp3 player when i walk the dog or take out the garbage. otherwise, my headphones are always on, be it when i walk or on the rare occasions i take the bus.

so today, there was a double exception. at some point during a long day i took a bus home. and before i even got to the station, the battery on my mp3 player had died out. all my spare ones were obviously in the other bag. *sigh*. there were plenty of emtpy seats when i got on, so i sat down, for i was loaded with stuff to carry. and then, the thing happened again.

it's... sort of like a detaching from self and a dissolution in the bus. like i float somewhere above, deconnected from everything that occupied my mind seconds before. i have nothing to focus on so i catch a bit of everything. in front of me, two teen guys, talking. loudly. laughing. loudly. a sort of rowdy laugh. to the left, a guy with a headphone only in his right ear. lucky dude, his batteries didn't give up on him. he's wearing a manowar t-shirt. behind me, a chick is talking on the phone; i don't like people using mobiles in buses, especially when they talk loud so everyone can hear. behind and a bit to the left, a guy was telling something to a girl. then, there are other signs of presence too... someone next to me rustles a bag, inspecting what they have bought. the screeching of the bus. bags being opened and closed.

i look around at the faces. some are attentive at stuff outside the bus, i can see their eyes moving as they follow what's going on. some are looking intently at a spot right in front of their eyes, lost in their own world or maybe avoiding eye contact. others are checking out passengers, one by one.

i register all these things pretty automatic, like a recorder. i don't give it much thought and i don't feel in any way about anything. i also register that i register them. that i am not thinking of all the things i've thought before, in fact that i have no thought i hold on to and spin to its end. just glimpses. of sounds, of images. of course, at some points, glimpses of me mix with the glimpses of others. that would make a nice photo. that's my bag rustling. this would be something for my blog tonight. but i register them just as i register details of everyone else.

the fact that outside it's getting dark certainly helps the feeling. it's much easier to shift into this mood then. the world outside is semi-shrouded and here we are, a bunch of people for whom i notice totally insignificant details, little universes compressed into a capsule filled with yellow light, moving through a vast, darkening world. time passes like in slow-motion, while outside it continues in its usual rhythm. and somehow, each of these little universes squeezed in this yellow lit capsule travelling through the dark wishes to get off and expand to its normal dimensions again.

i for one am relieved to get off and get hit in my face by a gust of chill evening air. it breaks the hypnotic state i was in. whoaaaa. imagine what telepathy would be like. i am definitely not a crowd person. tomorrow i'll be back to the sanctuary frontiered by my headphones where the only turmoil is that of my own thoughts. no more time capsule.

reminiscing old loves...

2007-03-06T23:40:00.000+02:00

oooookay. i know that a football blog is definitely not something you would expect from me. well... i am not sure this is a football blog, but it definitely bears resemblance to one :) actually... it is a blog about heroes... one fallen, one standing.

now, i can't say i'm a football fan... don't think that term ever applied to me. still, when i was in highschool, in the 10th to the 12th grade, i was an avid watcher of the champions league. and i love(d) english teams. my love was especially steered towards chelsea fc and manchester united, but i supported any other english team in the competition, unless they played against these. oh my, actually, i think i still have my sticker albums from that time... if i haven't thrown them away the last time i did a thorough cleaning of my room. i'd have to check.

anyways, in those days, when champions league season was near, you might have had a chance to spot me with the names of chelsea and manU, written on my forearms with waterproof markers. red for the devils, blue for chelsea of course :D. thank god my mum forbade tattoos, otherwise... heaven knows, i might sport those names on my skin even now :)

so, what happened? not much, actually. it's just that... i'm a usually calm person... whenever i can. now, as any footie watcher out there might know, you just can't stay indifferent when your favourite team is out on the field. honestly, the tension was just too much for me. i started watching less and less and was content with just checking the results. eventually, i gave up on that too. however, in conversations about football, i'd always maintain that those are the teams i support.

so, tonight is match night, knockout rounds. for rookies out there, that means there are sixteen teams left in the competition, they play two by two now in two legs, winner goes on. eight teams qualify, eight teams leave the competition. tonight, chelsea and liverpool moved on past porto and barcelona respecively. tomorrow night, i hope arsenal and manU do the same against lille and psv. which would then mean there will be four english teams in the last eight standing.

now, considering all this, i was reminded by highschool celeb crushes in the footie world. every team just had to have a player i favoured. well, for chelsea at that time it was the norwegian tore andre flo (when the presentor spoke his name, i always understood torean de flo, lol). easy to spot on the field, too, the guy. he was like... the lampard of his time :) i've just checked wikipedia to see what has happened to him in the meantime... apparently, after a return to norway he came back to the british isles and as of january this year, is playing for leeds united. woo-hoo.

as for manchester... do you venture a guess? who? david beckham you say? when he wasn't yet spaced out.... hm... well, guess again :D nope, actually, it was australian-born goalkeeper marc bosnich. he later played for chelsea too. now, on looking him up in wiki, i wasn't that delighted anymore :( bad seasons, relegation to second, then third choice keeper for his teams, relationship break-ups and a dangerous bitter-sweet topping of ice-cream and cocaine, leading to his sacking from chelsea and a nine-month ban from playing. the guy has basically fallen from football hero to a mess.

i am pretty sure "regular" people take falls like these once in a while. but their stories don't make the media and they don't leave the same trail of broken hearts and disappointed faces behind them. and maybe it is not fair, but i think their personal tragedies are greater than others'. i am darn sure you don't get on top without loads of work, not in this field and what can be worse than your un-doing by your own hands? he claims he started doing drugs to help out his then girlfried with the problem. for every line she did, he did one too. i doubt that helped much, since they broke up later, due to his becoming violent. apparently he still does it and while not happy about it, says he's still convinced he started it out for the right reasons. talk about good intentions poorly handled gone bad...

anyways... this whole manU-chelsea-flo-bosnich thing has such an aura of nostalgia about it. it's some remain from a time when the world was still in order. and it is something that should've remain untainted. yet... ah, well. heroes fall. still... yeah, i know this is the anthem of liverpool, but...

Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone,
You'll never, ever walk alone.

neverwinter nights nights part II

2007-03-05T03:20:00.000+02:00

Ok, I promised I'd be back. Don't suppose you are all to keen, but now I am curious about the blunders our little friend from bella online has made :) I've long since given up on her, if I ever get stuck I just check the walkthrough from gamebanshee.com, at least those people know what they are talking about. I am well into chapter three now, so let's take a look at two.

Well, nothing new on the henchman side, the title still reads six, they still are the same five. Names, classes, races and the likes all jumbled up. She keeps mentioning titles of books you find, though might find others, or totally different items and she keeps believing quest givers become merchants after you quench their hearts' desires...

Port Llast and surrounding areas

Kendrack is the head of the Merc guild, and offers a bounty for the ears of criminals. He'll give you 300g apiece for the 5 criminals.

Quick note... this quest never happened to me :-s. I didn't ask the dude about it in the first place and the next time I went there, his daughter was already rescued, which means the criminals had been slain. Someone must've been there before me I suppose :P. I am only sorry for the lost XP but... ah, well.

Terran is a sweet talking person who says bandits stole his brother Neva outside Charwood. He offers 300g reward. Turns out he is just trying to lure you south to kill you. Ah well, can you trust no one?

Elaith Croolnober was a smuggler and wants to go to Evermeet. He wants you to steal 3 gems to help him go. Sorry, but no.

Errm... the first character is actually a chick. And the second dude... hey, he wants his daughter to see the native lands of her ancestors. How can you be so cruel, bitch?! 'sides, you get one gem anyway, from the witch in Neverwinter Woods. You get reward in gold and XP for each separate gem. And don't tell me you missed out all of Wanev's quests because you didn't enter his house?!?!? You do his quest and get the gem for it... only the third one needs to be "stolen". Which I didn't do, I just chatted the woman up and she wanted a date in her room. I agreed and demanded the gem. Left her broken hearted but hey, that'll teach her about throwing herself in the arms of strangers met in inns :P.

Note if you use your Stone of Recall you end up at a Tyr temple with Neurik. He asks you for help with a werewolf. You get 4 silver charms to help out with Sir Karathis and 3 boys. Calindros is here and will heal you. To return via the portal costs 150gp.

Errrrm, not really. Neurik does the healing and the trading. The other dude is attending the portal.

Visit Gerrol again and give him Dergiab's head for 150gp and 250xp. Give the gold back. Talk about his wife and he gives you 150gp and250xp. Again, give the gold back. You're now set with this area for now.

Errrrm... why? Oh. Good points. I forgot. How do you ever buy equipment? And just what is your alignment? Super-lawful, over-good, I presume...

Now the 2nd golum - read the scroll then talk to him. He lets you in.

You mean golem, right? :)

Janis is to the side, he needs his son, Revat. [..] OK, now to the dig site.

Actually, Janis needs her son. But it's rather the other way around, her somewhat moron of a son is looking for her. Which you would've know if you had cleared the surface area before jumping headfirst into the first cave you saw...

Find Dregin, the guard that won't let you past yet.

Why would I? If you just walk into the camp, he's the last one you should meet. By now you would've talked to the Arch-Druid and he'd let you pass. No problemo.

Once you get all 3 druids, kill yourself at the shrine. You'll go into the Spirit Realm.

Pssst! You talked about the druid in the spider's cocoon in a cave and the one caught by the Nymph, but you forgot to mention where the third is. Namely in the house of the witch Selate. She asks you for the mirror of the Nymph and will let you free the druid in return. Oh, and give you the gem for the elf you chose not to help ;)

Constance is there. Convince her that Erik loves here, and then pay her 400g to get the brooch. Go to Erik, give him the brooch and you get 500g. You can't refuse it for some reason.

Errrrm.... maybe because you've just paid 400 gp for it and the game is somewhat idiot-proof? Hmmmmm....

I overwrote much of my dungeon notes. I also overwrote my graveyard notes.

Thank God. Heaven knows what you might have come up with otherwise :) Quick note on the graveyard and the undead arcane brother. He has a rod of terror, so you and your henchman might be stricken with fear and not be able to react until he finishes you off. Get some protection from mind spells - items, amulets of will to increase your saving throws, potions of clarity etc. Also, invisibility helps - either the spell or the potions. He activates the spell as soon as he sees you but if he doesn't, that would be a bit hard :)

Luskan and Host Tower

OK, go to Lady J and persuade her that Erb will be hurt. She'll give you the ring. Go to the slum buildings to the north and find Galrone. Buy the child for 1000g. Give Erb the ring for 500g and 150xp. Give Yvette the baby plus 250gp and get +7 good and 150xp.

Or else, persuade her that keeping the ring is illegal. Worked for me :D. Also, I got the child for far less, 400 gp, I think. And because the dude was such a bastard, I charmed one of his dogs into coming with me. For the umpth time, you get the XP from Yvette anyway. I didn't give her any money, but this is the one occasion when I refused the bounty, that was 3 or 4 good points.

From a circle building in the SW is a route through sewers with bugbears. You come out by a statue in a new map area. [...] THere's a big battle with six strong guys - one is 'hero'.

Fallen hero to be precise. And the new map area you just stumbled in is the Luskan docks, from a sneaker entry.

To the northeast is Baram's Lair. He says he'll release the kids if you bring him Kurth's head - that Kurth is with the Auril Priestesses. When you bring him Kurth's head he laughs and says he ate Londa's children. Lovely!

I talked to Kurth first. Actually, if you talk to the two High Captains, you can play their offers out against one another, they each want to other dead and you'll convince them to give you more gold. I killed Baram first, he was the bigger ass :D

OK, at the pinnacle. You find a corpse with a note indicating he was Aarin Gend's spy trying to protect Lady A. Ah well. Go down the stairs and in Maugrim's lair you'll get his yournal about the words of power. You're done in the tower, head back to Aarin.

Oh really? How about the lizardfolk you fight after Maugrim, Aribeth and Morag teleport away? By the way, I did encounter the bug mentioned in the gamebanshee walkthrough, but the solution didn't work. I tried something else with success - I attacked them with ranged weapons through the closed doors, that triggered the script - the doors opened, the leaders fled and the lizards attacked. This is a print screen of the character somewhere in the Host Tower of Luskan.

All in all, the chick's notes got messier and messier, I think she was by now mighty bored of the game. Good news is, I'll spare you the third chapter from her, seeing that even though I'm playing it right now, what I've read about the bits I've done hardly makes any sense. She must've given up halfway through the game, cause there are no notes on the fourth chapter. Or maybe she has overwritten them. With the Pony Princess Notes or something. Ok, I'm mean, I know.

out of tune with times

2007-03-03T00:30:00.000+02:00

i have an issue with the times i live in. they just don't seem the right ones for who i've come to be. or maybe it is me who wasn't tailored right for the times that were meant for me. i keep telling myself the little tolkien mantra for the occasion...

'I wish it need not have happened in my time' - 'So do I. And so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.'

but that is of rather small comfort. sometimes my cynical self gets the better of me and i am convinced i am way ahead of my time. because i can't help considering the way some people think and speak and act... well, narrow-minded and retarded. it's the blunt truth, though you must be fed up by my arrogance by now.

on other occasions, however... some of my ideas about people, the world, how things should be and how they should work... i seem to have taken them from past centuries. for instance, i continue to be amazed at the lightheartedness and superficiality with which people treat relationships. with which they treat each other. taken off the shelf, used, replacesd with a newer/better/brighter/more fashionable/gadgety item. it's like the consumerism of the age has spread over to relationships.

don't get me wrong. i don't vote for the virgin till marriage policy. i advocate sexual freedom to any extent that doesn't hurt others. but... this is the point. one night stands are great if you're into it; sex-only relationships are stressless and convenient and suited for the age; open relationships are perfectly ok... as long as both partners agree to that. it's as simple as that in my simple-minded view.

what i cannot understand, however, is (a) putting up a pretense of a relationship in order to keep a convenient sex partner around and (b) maintaining a relationship because it is a convenient thing to do - financially, emotionally, for getting chores done or out of habit - while not being into it or worse, cheating. i'd consider it immoral even if the partner in question knew about it and consented. but then at least it would be by choice. otherwise though... it's called taking advantage of someone's trust and that's almost as bad as you can get in matter of selfishness.

i don't know, really... i suppose it's because i've never really been there, but i don't think i could ever do it. i'm a horrendous liar. i can't even pretend to care well enough to maintain a relationship in the 'hardly satisfactory' area; i'd probably just let the whole thing die out and kill it off if it won't go peacefully. but i am almost entirely convinced i could never ever cheat. i am not built for that.

as said, the lightheartedness with which people talk of cheating, of maintaining several 'relationships' at the same time and juggling them, of hooking up on the spot and breaking up several spots later, the perception of romance as a race to displaying conquests, the ease with which 'loving', 'flirting', 'being turned on' and 'getting laid' are interchanged without them perceiving any change in the meaning... it absolutely scares the shit out of me.

sorry folks, i am really not built for such times. i refuse to be dragged into such a 'race' i have no chance to even finish and where i'd puke myself all over three times a day. i'll retire in dignity, at the risk of ending up alone and bitter like a dried out prune... but retaining some sense of self worth for not selling myself and my principles - old-fashioned though they might be - over to a trend of some misfit times.

lord knows i am no frank sinatra fan, but...

For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught.
To say the things he truly feels;
And not the words of one who kneels.
The record shows I took the blows -
And did it my way!

images by: salvador dali, bogdan h. and gisaiagami

the three paths to happiness

2007-02-28T23:38:00.000+02:00

well... if you're looking for a recipe, you're looking in vain. i am not going to give you one, because i don't have one. however... there is something that has occurred to me. i've mentioned already that i get some of my most brilliant ideas on the loo, haven't i? :P

some pennyless losers mentioned some time ago, in an attempt to convince themselves, that money can't buy happiness. some other losers, having naught but money, smiled condescendingly and nodded their heads, proceeding to buy it by the pound. funny thing is, they're both sort of right.

ok, so in my deep thinking session, i've sort of reached the following conclusion: there are three paths to reach a certain level of happiness (yes, the definition of the term is still debateable, no, it is not a lasting state, but one that must be achieved over and over again).

1. happiness you can buy. you want a dress really bad. you've been wanting a book for ages. you just die for a meal at your favourite restaurant. you'd kill for a trip to japan. all these things can grant you a period of happiness - shorter or longer, depending on how much you want it. all these things can be bought and require a certain amount of money. you have that money, you buy that piece of happiness.

2. happiness you make. you can carve out a little piece of heaven for yourself. you can do origami. you can get that feeling of enormous satisfaction after cleaning a really greasy oven. you can take a walk in the park. you can write a poem or paint something. you can help a child with schoolwork. you can tend a flowerbed. you can solve a really difficult maths problem. all these things can give you a piece of happiness and don't require a significant amount of money. it is paid for in effort and is the happiness that comes out of one's own work or creation.

3. happiness you are offered. it is probably the hardest to obtain because it doesn't depend entirely on you (whether on work or financial effort). it is the type of happiness for each others are required: your parents, your lover, your children, a friend, the boss, your favourite sports team, etc.

of course, you might train yourself to lower expectation levels, but it is debateable. no matter how objective or even pessimistic you might be, you still hope. you want to believe that your team might win, you want to believe your lover will be true, you want to believe your kids won't fail a difficult task, you want to believe your friends will be there for you, etc. preparation might help, but not much.

now, i don't think there is any 'universally recommended' dose in which to mix these. it probably varies from person to person. i'd venture to say that neither type by itself will offer long time happiness, there will always be something missing. also, i don't think you can cut any of the three from the list and compensate with the others. it doesn't work like that. there is a dose that is right for you and any shift from that balance is bad for you. the more you need of one type and the less you get of it, the worse for you.

well... now that i've solved a millenia-old problem of humanity :) am off to count my pluses and minuses.

ps: images by: wint3r88, yestrdaysforigvn, moOnxinha

neverwinter nights nights

2007-02-13T18:43:00.000+02:00

nope, no mistake in the title. that's what i'm losing my nights with lately: neverwinter nights 1, because nwn2 won't work on my stupid computer. yet. :D dungeons&dragons based rpg game. there.

on the past few days i was looking something up, and stumbled on a walkthrough for the game made by a chick for an online women's magazine. woo-hoo for rpg playing chicks. boo for stupid rpg playing chicks.

This is a really hard game to write a walkthrough for. You have many options of what to do at every step in the game. You can choose to help people and become more "good", or hurt people and become more "bad". Just because I choose to do something in my own style of gaming doesn't mean that you couldn't do the exact opposite and be playing just as well.

ok, i got that. so you want to be 'good'. at a first guess, seraph and i thought she might be a paladin given her desperation to acquire 'good' points. apparently she played a ranger. if she started out with a good alignment... how exactly was she acquiring more points? anyways... well, you can find the walkthrough here, if interested. i'm just going to point out a couple of things, in the chronological (sort of...) order of the game, from the introduction and chapter one. i'll do another entry, i guess, when i'm done with chapter two of the game.

In this little library area is a book you can grab - The Northern Four Adventuring Troupe.

false. except for quest items and certain stuff certain creatures drop when dead (ex. fire beetles always leave a fire beetle belly behind), stuff you find in bookshelves, piles of books, piles of skulls, chests, boxes, crates, armoires, corpses, wells, rubble, piles of stone and garbage (yeah, look into that too) as well as remains from defeated enemies... it's never the same. this mistaken affirmation appears throughout the walkthrough. you find a potion of xyz there, you find the abc book in that other place. ntz. doesn't work that way.

Fenthick asks you for help, and you level up again.

false. you level up based on how much experience you accumulated. you get that by killing enemies or doing quests.

There are four henchmen you can hire to help you out. Note that you should end up hiring ALL FIVE of these during Chapter One.

errrr. ok. it's five, really. and she goes on mentioning them:

tomi undergallows, halfling thief. not really, the character class is rogue, which covers much more than a thief. trust me, i play one.
daelan red tiger, half orc fighter. not really, he's not a fighter but a barbarian. image attached. different class, different skills. oh, and his mom did not fall in love with a 1/2 orc, but with an entire one. and the 'falling in love' part is not too clear either.
grimgnaw, lawful evil monk. why state his alignment instead of race, as with all others? dwarf monk.
sherwyn, human archer. she's a bard, really. an archer
class does not exist. am not too sure about that human part either but i guess it's correct... and her name is sharwyn. she's deliciously stuck up, so you might not want to address her other than her name.
linu la'neral, the cleric. she is an elf.
boddyknock glinkle, mage. mage? whuzzdat? he's a gnome wizard. after completing his quest, he doesn't give you a lantanege ring, but a lantanese one. because lantan is the place he comes from.

tomi is to be found in the temple of tyr, where you start out. the other four are in the trade of blades, not trail.

Desthar is annoyed. The Nurse, when pressed, says that Desthar and the Helmites showed up just after the plague came, very suspicious. North is Arabeth.

false. it's desther and aribeth.

Nyatar by the tree wants animals freed - gives you a zoo key and transport via plants scroll, for the BlackLake district. You get 200xp and 400gp when you do this task, and then he becomes a merchant.

false. another mistake appearing throughout the walkthrough. characters who give you quests do not become merchants. they have wares for sale from the start. if the option doesn't appear in the dialogue, just re-enter conversation with them.

Moonstone Mask is a whorehouse. Ophala Cheldarstorn in there wants you to rob some nobles of their artwork. I refused. Giles wants you to kill someone. I refused. To let you in the back, she wants a letter from Oleff. If you go and get one, and pay 200 to Torgo, you get a coin. Up on the third floor is Tamora, Luce, and Tanith. I was female so only Tanith was willing to talk to me. Really he says nothing at all interesting and won't do anything "illicit".

oooo-kay.
(1) you refused loads of experience and gold by refusing to steal the artworks. had you done it, you would've also found out that maybe ophala was right...
(2) gilles doesn't want you to kill anyone. he wants you to bring the artifacts from the tombs to him rather than to oleff, so that they can be desecrated and grant power to the goddess talona. i refused it myself, though it's worth more gold to be evil, just like in real life. i draw lines too, but i draw them more comfortably ;)
(3) you don't steal artworks from the rich... but you did pay to have a date with a male prostitute. interesting attitude :P

by the way. this is one spot where the game is not balanced between genders. normally, gender doesn't influence your character but males have one more quest here, for the prostitute tamora. she'll give you her broach to go to the docks district and frighten hoff out of bugging her. you can sell the broach to hoff for 200 GP, frighten him and return to tell the story to tamora or kill him for the XP. they could've made tanith the brother of tamora so he can give you the same quest when playing a female character, or else find something. whatever.

Peninsula district:

A corpse by the fountain has the Sword Coast book. {...} When you finish clearing out the above-ground area, it's time to head into the estate, in the northeast. {...} There are firebelly monsters here. Head into the prison. {...} Head west, grab the gauntlet in the chest, and head downstairs.

1. that book... or something else.
2. or use the prison key... whichever.
3. fire beetles. they leave behind firebeetle bellies when slain.
3. the gauntlet or... whatever.

Beggar's Nest:

There are lots of zombies, a skeleton mage and Gulnan in here. She's a Yuan-ti. Lure the mages/skeleton over to one side to kill them (the mage first) without involving Gulnan. Then go kill her altar to weaken her for 200xp. Finally kill her off, being sure to run when she starts casting a spell at you. You can dodge most of them and just beat her down.

well, i've let my henchman take care of whatever zombies he could and ran straight for the altar. once destroyed, the undead disappear and only the yuan-ti is left.

Blacklake:

There are various noble estates on this map. If you're playing evil, you can steal things from them and do a quest to steal artwork, given to you in Moonstone Mask. I was a good character and left the houses alone.

errr... i was playing a neutral character that ended up being good. still, i did the quest. you don't even need to kill off the owner, just the guards. he gives up the items to you and explains why ophala wants them. oh, and poking your head into every box, crate and barrel is part of the game. nothing evil about that. you get evil points only for killing people at a whim or doing something purposely evil, such as giving the tomb artefacts to gilles, i presume.

If you leave the doors closed you can do it without killing them, or if you're seeking revenge for the poor animals (as I was) you can kill them too.

nice ranger. good ranger. you kill people for keeping a bear locked up but won't steal a statue :)

You find a +1 greatsword in this room which you can have Marrock turn into a Harbinger Kin Greatsword for the sword, Adamantite and 500gp. It's a great sword! Does fire damage. Get down to the main room with the tree on one side and cage on the other. Save here because you're about to fight Meladen. Touch the cage doors to start the fight. I found it REALLY easy - just two or three hits with my Harbinger Kin Greatsword. Let him go, get the key, he gives you nothing else.

(1) the stonefire axe, from a +1 axe, adamantite and 500GP does more damage and the same fire damage.
(2) meldanen is pretty easy to defeat once you got here. you should also have a belt that offers +12 magic resistance by now, so no problem.
(3) he does give you something else. for example, 500 GP to leave him alive. without you taking good penalties :P you might also kill him, i hear, to get one of his teeth to give to formosa. and to stop all trouble in blacklake. i admit i didn't. i just pressed him for his gold and got the key.

You need to kill everyone you can get your hands on (that is evil) to get red coins.

that is not evil. they have "thugs" and "ruffians" written above their heads and they attack you.

In 20 In a Quiver, Jerol sells stuff. You can buy 3 red coins from him at 150g a coin. He says Gilda at the Golden Apple has one or two more. If you head over there, Gilda has some but refuses to hand them over.

you really needn't buy those coins. plenty to be found on various muggers, thugs, ruffians and bloodsailors. i didn't spend my gold on coins and gilda did give me, one or two, i can't remember.

OK on to the Seedy Tavern. First, Jalek enters a drinking contest with you. You drink: Neverwinten Sailor Spirit, Dockside Dunn's, Orc blood Brew, Dwarven Red Eye, Thayvian Fire Juice, and Catoblepas Death Cheese Wine. He admires your spirit and says you can talk to Christov now. Christov gives you a tavern key to get downstairs. The auctioneer will sell you things for those red coins you found. I bought the +1 longsword for 10 coins, the AC2 +1 leather armor for 5 coins and the shimmering sash of spell resist 12 for 6 coins. None were anywhere near as good as the stuff I already had. Good for selling I suppose.

i didn't enter the drinking contest. then again i am a rogue and open most doors for myself. i bought some stuff for myself and when i finished off the entire district, headed back and bought some more for the coins i had left. there's nothing else you can do with them and the stuff you buy is virtually free, since there is an abunadance of coins being carried around by the various thugs you have to kill off anyway. i sold for good money whatever i didn't need.

OK, back to the stream. Charox sends you downstream. [...] Note if you go back to tell Dara'Nei that all is OK, she's gone. There's a note there with instructions on an alternate entrance to the sewers.

errr... it's charon. and the note was there ever since you freed dara'nei, it was on one of her guards, which you supposedly killed already to free her. people... do pick up remains from corpses. you never know ;)

Helm's Hold

Yuri the Knife is in one cell - if you free him and he runs to warn the others. You have to kill him to stop him. I just talk to him and then leave him there.

errr... and miss out on 200-something XP for killing a bad guy. how do you survive this game? i'm not advocating pointless killing here but... errr... whatever.

OK, now head over across the bridge. You'll meet a visage that tells you Desther served his purpose and now tries to defy his fate. Go into the courtyard. The corpse right by the doorway holds a gem. The gem activates some robotic "friends" that help you kill the enemies. I actually don't like to use the gem until the end because I want to kill all the enemies (and get all the XP) myself.

i'm not sure, but i think you'd get the XP anyway. you do when your henchman does the killing, after all. if you enter the room with the robotic friends (which don't really fit a d&d universe, miss... they're animated armours actually) without the gem, they attack you. you can thus either enter on the right side. or take the cave entrance.

Working your way around, Chaohinon of the Void is in the top right. He wants the Black Grimoire ritual book in the study. I refuse to free him and take the book. Up center is a book of Helm on a shelf. South of here is where the 'main entrance' is - you can put the gem on the pedestal if you want to activate the robots to help you out.

ok, not reading creatures' dialogues and quest book descriptions carefully leads you to here... the grimoire also contains banishing spells. put it in the altar before the demon creature and banish it for xp and good points, i think. then place the book of helm there instead and you can summon the spirit guardian of the place, which had been destroyed by the demon. you get another batch of XP, good points i think and the spirit lets you choose a reward. a magical weapon (a longbow with + i think), a magical item, the blessings of helm (true ones this time: increased attack, strength, endurance, defense etc... there were like six green belssing icons next to my character) or his insight on things. i reloaded and took the magical item, which i later identified as a ring of element protection (fire, ice, acid, electricity...).

The room left and straight is the final room so clear out the other two first. Then go in to kill Desther. Kill the rest before starting in on him. He gives up and you get 300xp.

errrrm. not quite. go in the main room first. kill off some ritual creatures to break desther's defence and try to kill him. i couldn't, so i just lured the creatures into the corridors and took them out as they came, but not all came. when desther arrived and he surrendered, all creatures disappeared, except the ritual ones, which i killed off easily. it also cleared the neighbouring rooms, so raid the chests there. make sure you've done everything else in the hold before going for desther, because once you entered that door, it seals shut with a force field.
well... this was my 2 cents on the walkthrough. presuming anyone interested finds it... coroborate it with what this chick wrote at the link i provided. am not sure there aren't other things left out, but at least you have more covered now.

l'ombellico del mondo

2007-02-08T17:27:00.000+02:00

you know those youtube clips where american citizens find it perfectly ok to be asked the question "which country should the u.s. attack next?" without asking themselves why the u.s. should attack anyone? and they randomly name a country, from afghanistan, to any of the koreas, china and even france? and then, when asked to point out on the map, they indicate australia as north korea and new zealand as south korea?

well... until recently, while i was convinced that such people exist, and it saddened me that should there ever be a referendum in the u.s. on whether they should attack anyone (not a chance for that, they are too much of a totalitarian regime for that, that's right, you read me correctly), these people would be voters, i thought that they were a minority, that they have been picked out to be mocked and laughed at and put on youtube; that certainly you can't equal them to the average american citizen, who may be proud, nationalist, but not a complete self-centered, americano-centrist moron.

well... apparently americans are just like that. average americans, at least. i still retain hope and faith that there are some who think differently, though they seem a somewhat obscure elite now. let me tell you why.

i work for a multinational company with headquarters in several continents. my job is at the welcome center which works 24/7. yesterday i received a phonecall at 11:15 pm EET (that's eastern european time, for you american folks; with europe being that small continent on the other side of the atlantic ocean - the one on your east coast - just north - as in "above" africa - that big piece of land in the rough shape of a triangle. by the way, a triangles is that form with three sides). that's GMT +2.

it was from a lady from the headquarters in the u.s. she shouldn't have phoned my in the first place, as she was looking for someone from another department, but skip that. anyways, she insisted to look for that someone and to be put through immediately. i thought it might be an equipment failure emergency and i asked just how urgent the matter was. to my surprise, i found out that it was no such trouble and the lady merely wanted to communicate the person here a password for an application.

"errrr.... ok, so this can wait until tomorrow morning, right? you know, there are time zone differences, and it is past 11 PM here. i wouldn't want to look up and call someone on their personal mobile phone at this time, as it's... a bit late". silence. and then. 'oh, yeaaaaah, yeah, sure, it can wait." she was having a revelation, i could hear it in her voice. like doooooooooooh! when you make a phone call on the other side of the planet, don't you give a moment's consideration to that? i do it even when speaking to someone one or two timezones away... hello, the earth isn't quite as flat as your brain, you know? geesh!

new blog

2007-02-07T19:10:00.000+02:00

yup. my sixth. the fith on blogger.
addicted? who, me? noooooo waaaaay.
:) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)

since i've taken them out of my profile, here is the list, links are in the links section where needed.

personal blog - the one you are reading
closed lyrics blog
open lyrics blog - dragon mouth
photography blog - dragon eye

*** a day, a song ***

well... enjoy :)

come to my window...

2007-02-03T19:05:00.000+02:00

yup. you got it. saturday afternoon, stuck at the office. peace, quiet and unfortunately a headache. which has kept me from staring at the screen and from reading till half-way past the shift. what can one do as an alternative? yup. think. and that's just as bad an idea as ever.

i opened the window wide. i can't sit by they window. well, i could, but i couldn't see outside, as the windows are rather high set, the sill is pretty wide and about the height of my chest. so i stood by it. my jacket was there, on the central heating because it needed to dry. it rained so hard as i was coming to work, that the rain actually soaked through in places, my t-shirt was wet on my back. not to mention that my jeans were soaked up to my knees because some idiot considered it perfectly ok to speed through puddles in a weather like this. anyways, i'm digressing. but then again, that's normal for me.

as said, i opened the window. i cuddled into the spread jacket, which was nice and warm from the heating. and there was fresh, crips air on my face. it's still raining outside, though not so heavily. barely past seven in the evening and pitchdark, a black darkness (yes, darkness can be otherwise too... dark blue, for instance) filled with little yellow lights in the distance. and a few disturbingly coloured ones, from commercials. but mainly yellow-orange ones. and some nearer, from the street lighting below (did i mention my office is at the fourth floor?). i have always loved the way streetlights reflect in the wet asphalt at night. it creates a special atmosphere. i like that.

so i stood by the window for nearly half an hour, my belly and arms nice and warm from the central heating and the jacket, my back cool from the fresh air streaming inside. and my forehead cooled by the night air (is 7 pm air night air?). that did my headache well. i've shut the window now, as the office was getting too cold and the headache is coming back too. i think i'm going back.

if i think some more, i might even write something. because such demons as awake in times like these can't be defeated. you either surrended and succomb, or let them out in the world in some non-destructive way. that, for me, is writing. i don't have many who care about them, not anyone who could even begin to understand them, and none on whom i'd dare to set them lose. so i let them go into the night... you can sometimes catch a glimpse of them, at nights, if you pass by my window...

for musical illustration click here.

second picture by ahmet kasim.

hehehe

2007-01-27T20:30:00.000+02:00

I'll smoke you a kipper, because you'll be back for breakfast. You're the cult television show quoting, user account deleting, soap loathing IT Manager.

Something in your childhood has made you the way you are. You've been hired to provide a service to everyone else in the office - you make the computers run, and you make them run well. You've streamlined everything; you've removed all the viruses and installed all the firewalls. The only trouble - the only hole in your veneer of digital perfection - is the way you laugh at everyone.

If someone doesn't know UNIX, you laugh at them. If they lose their password, they laugh at them. If they visit a website using Microsoft Internet Explorer and their computer succumbs to an Internet worm, you laugh. Then you take a swig of your Coke, and with another hearty chuckle tell all your friends on IRC about the idiots you have to deal with.

Maybe it makes you feel better about yourself, although let's face it, you don't need help in that department. You're great, you. Fantastic like burning cool. If only those luddite office fools would let you play Unreal Tournament in peace.

Which Office Moron Are You?
Rum and Monkey: jamming your photocopier one tray at a time.

the server may be down or not responding... (the no pictures blog)

2007-01-22T23:49:00.000+02:00

i don’t necessarily feel like writing a blog. i do feel like writing, however. whatever it is. and that is usually a sign that something is troubling me and i need to spill it out, some way or another... or at least part of it.

i don’t know exactly what it is. or maybe i know and i’d rather not face it or give it any names. you know what they say... once you name it, you call it into existence.

i think the main problem is, lately i am alone with my thoughts for too long a time once again. i push them to the back of my mind mostly. i cover things up busying myself. but now i have a downtime. i am at work, i have stuff to do, but the network is down so i can’t. i have few options left and i am delighted at neither, so i drifted away and... landed here. not good.

i wonder if we really should be the way we are. sometimes i find myself thinking that i am in a way... that is not good for me. i wish i’d been built differently, from many points of view. i have tried to change, but it doesn’t work that way. you can’t just say ‘i’m going to change this about myself’ and just do it. you may change on the outside, you may attain a degree of control over your reactions and so forth, but you can’t change your insides at will. or at least, i can’t. sure we change... but it is the direct result of interacting with people, things, situations. it’s called ‘evolution’ (or ‘involution’...).

and putting up a pretense of someone you want to be... i wonder if the cost-benefit relation is a profitable one here. i think the strain of it, even though allowing one to live and be functional in a given environment is in the long run more damaging than being oneself. no idea. i can’t quite gather my thoughts into a coherent flow right now.

it’s just that, looking back i sometimes have reactions that are not really me as i see myself. maybe my view of me is distorted; actually, it more than certainly is, since i can’t be objective towards myself. but then again... am i not who i think i am? doesn’t my mind define me and is that not really all that matters in relation with me?

i think i’ve mentioned this before... i think these self-defining issues... i should’ve left them behind in my teen years. should’ve settled the issues or at least should’ve drawn some stable major outlines and then just go on defining and refining details. and yet, every once in a while when i find myself stopping and asking these questions... i am as lost as ever.

i have no idea who i am. if i were to take that ‘i am’ test right now on the spot... i don’t know if i could come up with 20 definitions. definitions, not adjectives. and then, going through them... how many would seem vital to me? and stable enough for me to say that they are part of my essence?

same goes for the ‘what i want’ question. no fucking idea. ‘how do you see yourself in twenty years? in ten years? in five years?’. hell, i don’t know. i don’t look there, i don’t see myself. i don’t even see myself in a year or in a couple of months. i go with the flow in an incredible way. and one that is in utter contrast to my self-determining philosophy of life and my view that you are what you make yourself become and all that shit. maybe i’d put just a little more effort in myself if i knew where i stand and where i want to go. right now... i just want to go away.

which brings me back to the emmigration issue. maybe my mum is right. maybe i just got bored and need a change. she’s suggested i change my job. i don’t want to change my job for one i don’t enjoy. not even for double pay, though it is unlikely that i find a better paid job than this one, plus it is laid-back. well, and boring as hell. but i don’t know what i would like to do. the things i like doing don’t earn me money. and if they did, i’d probably stop liking them anyway. it’s... the way i am built.

i guess this could be the point to also address ily’a comment on a previous post, saying something about all my friends are here and anywhere else i’d feel unwelcome and an outisder and not at home.

well... i don’t really fit in here either. i don’t do what most people my age do, i don’t like what most people my age like. i am not interested in 90% of their possible subjects of conversation. and mind you, this is not the arrogant me speaking. it’s not because i’m smarter or something, or because i beg to differ. i simply don’t care. i don’t care much about anything these days. so... where would the difference be then? unwelcome? by who? or who is welcoming me here?

and friends? pffft. not even worth mentioning. i have a special talent for falling out with people. what friends do i have here? i have one friend whom i see maybe once a week to catch up on things. i have a couple (and by a couple i mean two, not several) more whom i meet even more seldom, maybe once a month in good times. i have several people who probably qualify as acquaintances rather than friends, we come together once a month or once every two months or so and exchange meaningless chatter. i care as little about maintaining contacts as they do, honestly. i could do so well without, that i probably wouldn’t even notice a difference. i am a social person even less than in the past years. i get along well with virtually anyone and am close to virtually no one.

and i guess ‘virtual’ is the key phrase here. i am one of those sorry, pathetic people who live a life online. i’ve done more indepth talking to people i’ve met over the internet than with some i’ve known for half my life, or with my parents. i’d rather call on-line contacts friends then people i’ve practically grown up with. sad, isn’t it? and at the same time... makes it the easier to leave. as long as i don’t move to china or something and radically shift time-zones, most of my friends, even those few long-time ones i’ve mentioned before, are just a click away. just as close and just as unreacheable, no matter whether i log in from romania or from scandinavia.

i guess this is the main reason for this long and mostly senseless blog. my internet connection is down and i am lonely. i am separated from my friends by a blank error screen saying ‘server not responding. there might be a network problem. please contact your network administrator’. the very same screen keeping me from getting work done instead of rambling on here.

oh yeah, in case you were wondering, i am writing this in a ms word document, to be posted on the blog later. look, i’ve written almost two pages and have told you almost nothing. or maybe i’ve said too much already.

well, i have no good news to impart. apart from deciding to emmigrate, i’ve also decided to become just like any regular individual out there with no life whatsoever. in may, when my project finishes, i will resign even my membership from the organisation i used to work for (i’ve gone from employee / board member – member/volunteer) and probably the doggie organisation too. i’ll keep in touch with some of the people (for a time and as much as i seem to keep in touch with anyone...) and that’s that. in june i also finish my master’s degree, which is yet another hot air balloon. and we’ll see what else.

i have times when all these things just pile up over several i can’t avoid and i have had it. besides, i have been told at my regular check-up that i have spasmophilia, which is a lack of calcium and magnesium, which are prevented from being assimilated into the organism by stress, amongst others. so now i take magnesium pills and i am currently on my tenth day off of coke. i’ll see to it that i also get rid of stress. though stressing myself out over the most imbecile issues is part of my nature that i am so unhappy about. well. cheers (that is, if you endured reading all this crap).

there's a feeling i get...

2007-01-12T00:12:00.001+02:00

Theres a lady whos sure
All that glitters is gold
And shes buying a stairway to heaven.
When she gets there she knows
If the stores are all closed
With a word she can get what she came for.
Ooh, ooh, and shes buying a stairway to heaven.

Theres a sign on the wall
But she wants to be sure
cause you know sometimes words have two meanings.
In a tree by the brook
Theres a songbird who sings,
Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven.
Ooh, it makes me wonder,
Ooh, it makes me wonder.

Theres a feeling I get
When I look to the west,
And my spirit is crying for leaving.
In my thoughts I have seen
Rings of smoke through the trees,
And the voices of those who standing looking.
Ooh, it makes me wonder,
Ooh, it really makes me wonder.

And its whispered that soon
If we all call the tune
Then the piper will lead us to reason.
And a new day will dawn
For those who stand long
And the forests will echo with laughter.

If theres a bustle in your hedgerow
Dont be alarmed now,
Its just a spring clean for the may queen.
Yes, there are two paths you can go by
But in the long run
Theres still time to change the road youre on.
And it makes me wonder.

Your head is humming and it wont go
In case you dont know,
The pipers calling you to join him,
Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow,
And did you know
Your stairway lies on the whispering wind.

And as we wind on down the road
Our shadows taller than our soul.
There walks a lady we all know
Who shines white light and wants to show
How evrything still turns to gold.
And if you listen very hard
The tune will come to you at last.
When all are one and one is all
To be a rock and not to roll.

And shes buying a stairway to heaven.

ooooooooooookay

2007-01-10T01:35:00.000+02:00

What LoTR Character Are You?

You are most like Gimli. Most people think you're pretty rough, but you're actually rather sophisticated. Unlike others, you don't need everything to be perfect. You're flexible. When problems come your way, you face them head-on and get whatever help you need. You also stick to your morals very closely, and you are unlikely to compromise. You are very loyal to your friends, but don't be so controlling!

and yet... i am sam. *sigh*

i am sam...

2007-01-08T16:42:00.000+02:00

the overdue blog. or at least one of them.

and surprise, surprise: nope, it's not the i'm-back-from-germany-let-me-all-tell-you-how-it-was blog. it's one i meant to write to get out of my system at least, but always dreaded. instead, i've kind of talked it over with some people. and at that point, i seemed to have sorted it out somehow, not much to my satisfaction but it seemed clear enough.

the issue in cause is leaving this god damned country. i have come to see that as a duty to myself as a person. i owe that to myself, i owe giving myself that chance or else sit here and wither and wonder about "how if's" later on and wallow in regrets. i am not saying that if i leave it won't be the same. i am waaaaaay beyond believing in heaven on earth somewhere and with my typical arrogance i dare say i am far less optimistic than maybe 80% of romanians who have ever thought about it. but at least then i'd know. i'd know it's because of me and not because i didn't try. regrets over doing something are nothing compared to those of not doing something.

(ok, don't make me explain the reasons, i'll get all riled up about it. let me just point out that whatever they are, they have to do with the quality of living and that does not at this point include financial aspects. out of everything in my life, money goes great. it's not that i'm stinking rich. but so far i've afforded myself basically any whim and they were quite expensive whims. i still have the tendency to sometimes feel bad about it, though i fail to see why. it's not about money. if i were a multi-millionaire in euros, i think i'd still decide to leave this country.)

now, if you somewhat know me, you know what making decision a torture is for me. acting upon one, even more so. i'm generally go with the flow type of person and i usually sit around for things to happen or i just let them happen. if i make them happen for one reason or another, i do it the subtle. that's a decision of course, but the easier one. i am samwise gamgee. i hate changes, the bigger the worse. i can manage them just fine, but avoid them if possible. i need a lot of pushing from behind to take steps.

now, not only is this not a major, but a critical decision, it also affects other people as well in a manner in which i don't feel the right i have to affect them. i mean my parents and mostly my mum. i will not go into details about the background here, nor am i trying to sound overly pathetic. but me leaving the nest and flying into a fairly unreachable place would hit her harder than i bear to know i have hit her. i am not willing to live the rest of my life knowing that i have shortened her life and made it miserable. and no "it is your life to live, not hers" type of argument works here. i am well aware of that, i agree with it, but there are lines to draw and mine is right here. i know not many people either understand or agree with this but it's the status quo.

so, at the point i had talked the issues over with a couple of folks, the (non-)options seemed quite clear. leaving and maybe carve out a place for myself out there and feeling guilty for the rest of my life for leaving my folks behind; or stay, with my folks and unsatisfied. it seemed quite clear and i have on several occasions asked pro-leaving people not to mention it anymore as it would only make me feel bad. hey, i don't want to sit around and wait for my parents to die :((((((((.

in the meanwhile... things have changed a little. first and foremost... surprise: i am more determined than ever that this is not the place for me to live in. i want to change the idiots i am around, so to say :). now, to match this new found determination with my guilty conscience, i am dellusioning myself in a way i've learned from the best (don't ask.). i keep telling myself that i will be able to support my parents and eventually bring them closer to me. whether i can make a living for myself in such a short time until that support will be direly needed (my dad is nearly 66, my mum is 59) is a very questionable and debatable thing, but a thing i need to hang on to.

secondly... my mum is not as opposed to my leaving as she used to be. if the issue came up in conversations, she was usually 'yeah, well, whatever you decide' and then fell silent, which is a bad sign or 'be careful, look at...'. apparently, recently, she has at least rationally accepted that leaving is the better option for me, if not necessarily for her. i'd bet anything it still pains her, but at least she has reached some degree of acceptance and recent political events have strengthened that opinion.

and that brings us to the wishful thinking part. first... i somehow need to find the strength and the moral support to actually take that step. once again i am more aware that it is good for me of what that really means and it is one hell of a step for a little samwise. currently i am just nosing around on embassy sites for requirements and legislation guides.

countries envisioned for the moment are germany, england, austria or ireland, because of the language. final destination of choice is as always sweden. i will eventually take up learning swedish again, i still have the textbook, i only need the will, even if i cannot find another course to enroll in.

i am not much troubled with their reluctance to take on immigrants, to be honest. i rely heavily on my knowledge of languages, several of my skills gained during my pretty flexible employment places i had here, my education if i must and in my people skills that i don't necessarily like but am aware of having to quite some degree. i am confident, not necessarily in me, since self esteem always was and i suppose always will be an issue with me, but in my ability to catch on fast on swimming once thrown in deep water. i know i can take most of what is thrown at me even if it hurts like hell and i've come to believe in me as a survivor. it's just that i don't want to settle down with survival anymore. i want to live and i want to thrive. and this soil here... it's spoilt for a couple of generations to come.

surprise, surprise

2007-01-06T17:12:00.000+02:00

... but not really.

You scored as agnosticism. You are an agnostic. Though it is generally taken that agnostics neither believe nor disbelieve in God, it is possible to be a theist or atheist in addition to an agnostic. Agnostics don't believe it is possible to prove the existence of God (nor lack thereof).

Agnosticism is a philosophy that God's existence cannot be proven. Some say it is possible to be agnostic and follow a religion; however, one cannot be a devout believer if he or she does not truly believe.

agnosticism

79%

Satanism

71%

Buddhism

63%

Islam

63%

atheism

58%

Paganism

46%

Judaism

42%

Hinduism

29%

Christianity

13%

Which religion is the right one for you? (new version)
created with QuizFarm.com

bottom line is...?

2007-01-04T04:38:00.000+02:00

... that i am in no mood for long posts, though at least one is long overdue. been there, done that, am back and wish i weren't. well... doof.

strike of genius

2006-12-20T05:25:00.000+02:00

... or maybe not :) sometime during this day i will post a new blog (hopefully... you know how my posting promises go...). nothing new, really, it's something i've posted on the forum, but took me quite some time to write, so... why not recycle? :) also, an update is due.

anyways, i was thinking... - it's not an original idea, i got it from some other blogger - of doing a feature on the blog. so if you (think you) are among the approved readers of this blog and there is anything you wish to say here rather than on your own blog or somewhere else or whatever... just go ahead.

write me a mail containing your text; maybe put your post's title in the subject line or otherwise make it plain to see. also feel free to add pics if there are any particular ones you wish included and state your pen-name :), it will go in the title too.

i will think of something (prolly another dragon :) )to replace the little blue dragon at the start of (most of) my posts, to also visually identify feature posts.

let's see whether something comes out of this :)

Zaraza - part two

2006-12-16T08:58:00.001+02:00

Let's see how you're doing: you haven't changed your car, you've got no villa and you didn't get a mobile with bluetooth, like all the fancy people do.

You didn't kiss ass to build a career. You spent all your money on books, movies and travels.

If you keep it up in the coming year, you are sure to win all our respect. From Zaraza, to all those who understand that you are made a gentleman by what you know, not own... Respect!

Zaraza part one

2006-12-16T08:55:00.001+02:00

Zaraza greets all those who don't appear in magazines, those who don't have fancy cars, teenage girlfriends or spectacular political careers.

Zaraza congratulates all those who know what "fortuitously" means and those for whom Kafka isn't a Czech football player.

From Zaraza, for the true gentlemen in Romania... Respect!

2006

2006-12-15T19:46:00.000+02:00

yeah, i know. it's not over yet. and i hate summing up things. as i mentioned somewhere else, i dread looking under lines to see what i end up with. but since i've already done it elsewhere... why not post it here as well. a reminder for future generations :)

on the outside... better than 2005 in some ways. professionally and financially mostly. and i sometimes feel like an arsehole for complaining because of that. also on the plus side of things, there was an accomplishment i suppose i should be proud of and yet another international experience.

on the inside... a calmer year on interpersonal level... what struggles there were, they were the aftermath of 2005 so it's yesterday's snow really. the big plus here is a big thank you to my guardian angel; an unforgettable august night; and some dear friends.

the big minus goes to my more and more pregnant lack of enthusiasm, appreciation, trust, faith, hope and will to change. a lesson i should've learned and i constantly fail (though that is not such a good thing; wanting to pass is) and a promise i keep making to myself... and breaking. and i hate promise-breakers. i know i didn't make much sense, but bear with me. i honestly do know what i am talking about, it makes perfect sense to me.

this is what i posted as a sum-up. i didn't want to go into detail there.

i can't deny it was a good year from those two points of view. i earn quite some money and quite easily. i know many a person would like my job. but it's wearing me down, turning me into someone i don't want to be. i'm afraid it's one of the things that will need seeing into in 2007. not that i believe in new year's resolutions anymore.

my so called accomplishment that everyone says looks good in a cv is more of a headache than a reason for joy to me. and, hey, people, i don't care about my cv. i don't care about career.

amsterdam was great. the project filled me, at least short-term with enthusiasm. well, am paying for that mistake now. meant to go back there in autumn, but nikon got the best of me :) however... it's a city worth the wait and worth a good camera, too :) i was considering summer but might make that spring. maybe a truly lavish birthday present to myself.

most echoes of 2005's troubles just managed to die out short of the end of this year. what bonds still tie me to days passed, i mean to sever in may. more about that in may, however :) (considering i'll be still alive, conscious, able to write and willing).

surviving with a mere bruise an accident in which others break their spine i suppose is a good thing to be counted at the end of the year. good to have a dragon near. as for the august night... i suppose most people reading know what i mean :) i don't believe in a drug stronger than that. the friends... also know, i presume. or hope.

the downside of things... well, that is something i still need to sort out with myself. as said, i don't believe in new year's resolutions anymore. those are destined to be broken. i am at the moment looking for something worth believing in. well... i can wait. there's no hurry. there are other years to come. or so they say. it needn't be mystic, or noble or some higher goal. just something to keep me going. and... i just remembered a song very dear to me that i haven't listened to in quite a while...

in a world that gives you nothing...
i need something... to believe in.

ps: yep, second pic by marcin stawiarz again. i'll get there, someday :)

someone call the ambulance...

2006-12-11T22:42:00.000+02:00

Personality Disorder Test Results

Paranoid	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	74%
Schizoid	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	86%
Schizotypal	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	62%
Antisocial	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	66%
Borderline	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	82%
Histrionic	\|\|\|\|\|\|	30%
Narcissistic	\|\|\|\|\|\|	26%
Avoidant	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	70%
Dependent	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	54%
Obsessive-Compulsive	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	42%

Take Free Personality Disorder Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

some news

2006-12-09T01:50:00.000+02:00

quick post:

for those of you who knew about my previous forum and / or used to post in it...
can't get that back, but i've set up another one.
still having smiley trouble, but it's functional.
you are very welcome to post there.
i will not make the address public.
if interested, please mail me and i'll send you the link.
oh, please use the du.shurtugal[at]gmail[dot]com addy.
i check that one daily.

stone sour - bother

2006-12-04T00:04:00.001+02:00

Wish I was too dead to cry
My self-affliction fades
Stones to throw at my creator
Masochists to which I cater
You don't need to bother;
I don't need to be
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on,
I won't let go 'til it bleeds

Wish I was too dead to care
If indeed I cared at all
Never had a voice to protest
So you fed me shit to digest
I wish I had a reason;
my flaws are open season
For this, I gave up trying
One good turn deserves my dying

You don't need to bother;
I don't need to be
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on,
I won't let go 'til it bleeds

Wish I'd died instead of lived
A zombie hides my face
Shell forgotten
with its memories
Diaries left
with cryptic entries

And you don't need to bother;
I don't need to be
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on,
I won't let go 'til it bleeds

You don't need to bother;
I don't need to be
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on:
I'll never live down my deceit

i can't help it grin

2006-12-01T20:13:00.000+02:00

arguing trouble

2006-11-29T23:55:00.000+02:00

i have a problem arguing with males who's iq ranges from halfway intelligent upwards. i don't argue with stupid ones on principle. because they are bound to run out of arguments. which isn't that bad, but then there's another thing they are bound to get to and those are sexist remarks of some sorts. whether it will imply the woman = no brains theory or the you need to go get laid routine, in 99,9% of the cases, stupid males will get there.

so, that only leaves halfway intelligent or intelligent people to argue with. not all too many, i dare mention >:) . now you may say that the arguing issues with only halfway intelligent males don't cover such a wide range of topics. it is rather narrow and rather simple, too. perhaps not always worth arguing. however, it happens so for this theory's sake, we consider them subjects of this post too.

so, what is it that doesn't let me argue things out properly, since we established it is neither the issue in discussion, neither the other's intelligence. well... i don't know whether it's a typical male thing, but i'd venture to say yes. and i also dare say it only occurs when they argue with a female (unbelieveably so, but i am a part of that sorry half of the species).

now, in an argument, things are bound to heat up. i generally don't hold people completely responsible for what they throw into the battle in its heat. it's all about dealing strikes to the mental construct of the other, after all. however, occasionally, whether by intention or not, those strikes hit home hard. not with the construct, but with the person. it shouldn't happen in a 'clean' arguement, but sometimes it does.

i must admit i am selfish enough not to have noticed the behaviour of others when i was the one to draw blood and i probably did it enough times. to my defense - i didn't observe my reaction either until the idea i am building towards has occured to me. but generally, there are two types of reaction i have when receiving such hits. if they hit really, really hard, i may strike back and strike back hard. i know i can be darn cruel. the other one, which determines a patterned response from my male arguing partners is... "ouch".

it is a statement of the fact that a certain retort really hurt. a mere acknowledgement of the hit taken and possibly a warning that to further insist on that particular point would only cause pain. what i would expect as a response would be the taking of the argument back to a more abstract level. going back from the persons involved to the issue at hand. however, what i got, in four cases with four different persons was... retreat. immediate and unconditional. there was an excuse and a dropping of the whole thing. that leaves me completely unsatisfied. first, because i consider the argument non-productive, since nothing was sorted out; second, because the male retreats and i'm left licking my wounds and brooding over what has caused them.

my guess is that at the "hey, you've hurt me" signal, they get scared. scared of crossing an unwritten line in treating a woman or perhaps going back to the sense that was taught to them in their upbringing. in neither case was the issue picked up again to be argued over. if ever mentioned, it was an apology and an assurance that everything is ok.

now, besides the already mentioned lack of satisfaction of having sorted things out one way or another, there is something else that troubles me. it hit me a couple of days after the one with the argument when i became aware of that patternt, while reconsidering it. i think that women use that precise thing in arguments with men to either win or stop them. make them feel like jerks for hurting them, let them boil in that feeling and then get what you want as ransom for easing their conscience. a mechanism of inter-sex manipulation. i might be paranoic, but i think it is quite often the case.

honestly... i felt like shit every time it happened to me. they felt like shit and i felt like shit for making them feel that way. that was definitely not the purpose. and those are definitely not the cheap tricks i like to use. if puppy eyes don't work, that's it for me in matters of emotional blackmail. that's as far as i go. of course i sulk. sulking is normal. i don't expect anyone to react to it. i get riled up when they do and i generally refuse whatever peace pipe is offered. if i didn't get something when asking, i definitely won't accept it as bribe to stop feeling bad about something or someone.

thus, i worry that my "ouch, you've hurt me" in an argument might be perceived as some sort of backdoor women use to have their way. or their point. or their whatever. i hate sexist stereotypes. i dislike being labelled in general and i dread being labeled for what's between my legs. i've waged war on such labels as far back as i can remember to the point of doing stuff out of sheer spite of precisely those neatly prescribed patterns of behaviour. and i ended up having arguing trouble... :(

one day....

2006-11-19T00:47:00.000+02:00

i seem to see ahead in a kind of way. i know we are going to take a very long road, into darkness; but i know i can't turn back. it isn't to see elves now, nor dragons, nor mountains, that i want - i don't rightly know what i want: but i have something to do before the end, and it lies ahead.

j.r.r. tolkien, the lord of the rings, book one, chapter IV - a shortcut to mushrooms

not now... but some day... when the darnkess lifts... i'll see the Road... and i'll bear this in mind. i have something to do. something that i owe myself. and it lies ahead. and elves and dragons will always surround me.

the toilet blog

2006-11-13T19:32:00.000+02:00

how many people out there watch(ed) ally mcbeal? ok, ok, lower your hands, no need to poke my eyes out. i just needed a smart introduction. well, even if you've only fleetingly watched the series, you will have noticed that some of the best, funniest, smartest, most interesting, revealing and important moments of an episode's plot happens not in the courtroom or in the office, but in.... the toilet.

whether it's the biscuit gathering courage in front of the mirror by doing barry white impressions, people making love in the stalls, conversations being overheard, or just meaningful sighs of characters while looking at their own reflections... it happened there. of course, the fact that it was a unisex toilet was important in all this. and it's usually the "oh, i didn't know you were here" thing that played a part.

well, i hate public toilets. i hate the fact that people who happen to be in the room hear you peeing. i know, i know, it's natural to pee and the toilet is the place to do it. but i don't like it. it's even worse with poo. and god forbid you need to fart. that's downright embarrassing - toilet or not.

when i go to the toilet at work, and there's someone there at the sink or in the other stall... i usually wait until they leave the bathroom before i get out of my stall. don't ask why. i just don't consider public toilets a place to look strangers in the eyes. am i weird in this?

now don't tell me i'm weird just for writing about it. there are serious, scientific surveys about bathroom behaviour. people get paid for putting toilet users in categories according to toilet rituals, the way they fold their paper, wash their hands, what they do while peeing or pooing or how they keep their trousers while sitting on the throne. there is nothing off with my post here, seriously. i was just expressing some apprehension towards public toilest.

i might be too prude for all i know. but toilets should make you feel comfortable and safe. you should know no one is busting in on you, no one overhears any weird noises you might make - be it sighs of relief or concentration or just a plop in the water, where you don't hear others gossiping, possibly even about you; where you can spend some quality time with yourself, being excused from the world with a very acceptable and undeniable reason; where you can relax reading instructions from detergent bottles of have a good time with your favourite book, and maybe a bottle of coke next to you or just meditating about insightful and deep philosophical issues. under no circumstance should it be a place where you mind social conventions and have cramps because you force yourself not to make sounds...

well... so much musings for today. excuse me... am off to read a book ;)

sorry, folks...

2006-11-04T14:52:00.000+02:00

... to impede your direct communication with me (i know you are all dying to do that, of course ;) ). however, there is someone reading this blog who seems inconsiderate enough not to want to take hints, who doesn't mind having her comments deleted and who continues to bug me despite all requests to stop. proof thereof is in the comment below, which, unlike others by the same person, i have chosen not to delete so you can see it.

thus, i see myself forced to turn on comment moderation on my blog. your comments will thus appear only after they have been manually approved by me. i check my mail frecquently enough to ensure that that happes as soon as possible. sorry for the inconvenience, but i have had it.

and you, my dear, instead of declaring your endless love to me, had better return what is mine and then let it be. by that i mean my books that i have lent you over a year ago. it was before christmas last year that you promised to return them via a friend - none have reached me so far. i would've appreciated that more than undercover birthday presents (by the way, i'm not that stupid) that i neither needed nor wanted and that i am sorry to inform you, i have thrown away.

hasta la vista.

trains hate me... but someone loves me

2006-10-31T20:22:00.000+02:00

saturday morning. 7:15 am. i am calling a taxi. no car available. darn! i phone the next company. car'll be there in 2-3 minutes. i take my bag and go outside. time passes, i'm cold, no taxi in sight. i am getting nervous. suddenly, a cab from the firm i called passes by. i jump, wave, but the idiot drives on. guess he mistook the address.

7:25. i head to the nearest taxi station - no one parked there. 7:32. no chance i'll make it. i go to the next taxi station. no car parked as far as i can see. there, one is coming, the driver's buying a paper, heads back to the car by the time i reach him. i get in, he looks at me in expectancy. i sigh. "to the station. not that i've not already missed the train, but... the the station, anyway".

dunno why i insisted, but i thought i might just as well make certain i at least tried... maybe the train won't leave precisely when it's supposed to. "what time's your train at?" "7.46" he looks at his mobile's clock. then he steps hard on the gas pedal. 6 minutes left. it was like in the movies. the guy is racing. i kinda smiled at some point. i might actually make it. he stops, i give him the money. he wishes me luck, tells me not to waste time.

i don't recall ever getting on even so much as a tram without a ticket. never. i abhor that. however, i wasted no time. don't know why, but decided to forget about the ticket. i went straight to the platform. as i enter platform 1, i hear the loudspeakers. clearly, this time. train leaving at 7:46 from line 8.

i hurry, there are trains at lines 1 and 2 - the intercity to budapest i think, and some train to bucharest. there are also two trains at the other end of the station. i forget all about counting lines, i hurry to catch the train. in some weird sheepish upsurge i board the train the persons in front of me are boarding. they enter a compartment. i lean against the wall, catch my breath. i feel my feet melting. i can't believe i made it. i get my wallet ready - this is gonna get expensive. either 150% of the ticket price, if the ticket collector believes me, or a fine. it never crossed my mind to try getting away with it.

then it hits me. i remembered that at the same time, from two lines next to each other, two trains head to two different directions. i get off, try finding a board on one of the trains - none there. i go to the front of the wagons, there, i can see boards. i look at my train: canrasebes. darn! thank got i had gotten off, it was the wrong one. i turn to jump on the other, and............... the train is just going by, doors closed, gaining speed... i just about see the arad-sign going by me. the precise place where i should be in two hours.

i'm stricken. at first, i just stare at the train. i can't believe this is happening. it would've been better to get to the station and find that the train has left. but i was in one. i go to the information desk. next train is leaving at 11:50, way too late. i had to be in arad around 10:00 and catch the 13:00 train back in order to make it to work at 15:00. i got out of the train station and decided to see if i can catch a bus. i headed towards the bus station and...

well, if you don't believe in signs and portents skip the next paragraphs. i am not sure i believe either, but... i don't consider seeing any too often, so i am pretty determined to pay attention. i was right the three or four times i've had them. those might have been coincidences, so might have been this feeling i had, but in the end i made the decision to mind it.

on the way to the bus station, i saw a mini-van. i know them, they go two or three time a day on the route timisoara-arad-oradea. it was still waiting for passengers. i could've gotten on it and would've made it to arad in time. or maybe not. my folks had left town friday morning. the evening before, my mum asked with a worried look on her face how i was going to get to arad. i jokingly answered "by train, of course".

now, my mum really is the worrying kind. OH, YEAH! but i knew what was on her mind: lately, there have been loads of accidents in which minivans have been involved, of the kind i saw before me, the latest wednesday afternoon, on its way to... arad. no wonder - i've been to oradea once with such one and i know how they drive. i also know the roads in romania. i kind of promised my mum i wouldn't take a minivan, which seemed totally unimportant then, as i was sure i would go by train.

i kept looking at it, and i kept wanting to get on it. i was scolding myself and telling myself that i am being ridiculous, and what the hell, it's not like this precise one was going to have an accident. but i had a really bad feeling. i thought it was bad conscience for wanting to do something i had told my mum i wouldn't do, i was pissed off at myself. then i turned around and walked on.

because i had recalled the day and decided that i believe in coincidences. but not in that many happening at once. one evening before, a friend of mine who wanted to come along told me she can't make it. then in the morning: first, there is no cab. then the one i call passes by. first station - again no cab, second station - no cab, but i just happen to get the only one coming in. i never ever get on anything without a ticket, but i decide to do just that. out of two possible trains, i actually get into the wrong one! had i than looked first at the other's destination shield, i might have gotten on, but i looked on mine. i know there is basically no chance to find a bus, but i go to the station and on my way, doors wide open i find... the minivan i told my mum i wouldn't take.

well, call me silly, call me a chicken, call me superstitious. i believe that something happened that day. whether i wasn't supposed to get to arad at all... or whether i was supposed to find that precise minivan... i don't know. but you wouldn't believe the relief i felt walking away from there. it's not like that van had an accident, as far as i know. and i am not going to say that it would've, had i gotten on it. that would be silly. but as horrible as it felt, knowing it's my last chance, as good did it feel to not take it.

needless to say i found no other bus in the station. i thought i'd walk home and take some pics, as i had the camera with me. however, it was such a gray day, that none would've come out ok. besides, the bag was heavy on my shoulder, four books and a camera not something to carry around all over town. i got on a bus home, using up the ticket that should've gotten me to work after returning from arad, not before getting there at all.

i got home... i was in a really, really quiet mood. i still couldn't believe how i've come to miss the train, i kept seeing it leaving from under my eyes. i couldn't believe i wasn't there for the meeting. yes, i was supposed to meet someone. not really supposed, i guess, as it was meant as a surprise. and... well, if you remember the blog about the placebo concert, high and dry, i related a similar incident - with doors closing and train leaving and not saying goodbyes. believe it or not - it was that very person i wanted to meet. i phoned her, told her the whole story and went to bed to get over it, until the alarm rang and i had to go to work. however... through all the sadness and angry feelings over it, when i went to bed i had the distinct feeling that the dragon has not been sleeping, for the second time this year.

dragons and books

2006-10-23T21:40:00.000+03:00

well, dOGTOBER fEST has come and gone. however, i decided not to blog about it (i'm a bitch, i know). all in all, it was an interesting experience. oh, and i got the chance to give a bit of a hug to a bearded dragon. no, am not talking rubbish here, there is a species of reptile called like that. they're absolutely cuddly, as their belly is very soft. also, unlike iguanas, they don't bite. i'd consider getting a pair, but unfortunately, their menu includes maggot-like things.

(by the way... as you can tell from the fact that it is pretty much down to earth, this blog is none of the ones planned. so you still have five coming up, hehe).

today i've decided to torture my hair. i do that once in a while, but in a somewhat kind fashion. today however, i really tortured it, i wouldn't be surprised if i got mad at me, if only it possessed brains of its own. luckily its brain is mine :D. so, i dyed it blue black, then i decoloured four strands and dyed them blue. it's still in the drying process so i can't tell you how it looks :) i missed having my blue strands. am really fond of them.

last week i bought myself karl may's winnetou. for those of you who don't know what i am talking about... well, shame on you, am not going to enlighten you. for those of you who do... here's the deal: winnetou is the first novel i ever read on my own. i was 8 at that time and picked a book from the shelf for the holidays. it was winnetou volume 5... i must've thought that it meant it was a five star book, i definitely didn't think it was the number of the volume :)

i loved it and cried bitter tears at the end. i was relieved to find out that there are other four books i can read. it was like i could resurrect winnetou reading the other volumes after the last one, in which he dies. that series still holds the record with 6 readings. coming up next is old surehand, by the same author with 5 readings, dune with 4 and lord of the rings with 3 (catching up fast, since i have also bought LOTR in english and am re-reading it. aloud. to polish my english).

anyways, winnetou came up in some discussion, i remembered it when editing a picture i took which i eventually named after the two main heroes' horses. and then i saw the book, published in three volumes in a bookstore two days after. guess i was meant to buy it :) my old five volumes look miserable (i tortured books i loved as a kid) and are at our cottage in the mountains anyway.

so, i am indulging in escapist readings again: the seventh winnetou, the fourth lord of the rings and the third harry potter reading. all in parallel :) am multi-tasking.

and no... in this post i refuse to complain of the amount of work i have to do. as a matter of fact, i think i am going to post this and then i am going to shut down the computer and go read. one of the three. whichever. i need that :)

so my advice for the start of the week is... go read a book people. one you like, not one you have to. it doesn't matter whether you've already read it or not, what other people think of it (i've raised some eyebrows with harry potter), what else you got on your mind, how tight your schedule is... just pick up a book and read. leave this world for a couple of hours. it's divine.

...

2006-10-23T03:33:00.000+03:00

so... so you think you can tell... heaven from hell, blue skies from pain... can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail. a smile from a veil - do you think you can tell? did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts, hot ashes for trees, hot air for a cool breeze, cold comfort for change... did you exchange a walk-on part in a war for a lead role in a cage? how i wish... how i wish you were here. we're just two lost sould swimming in a fishbowl, year after year, running over the same old ground... what have we found? the same old fears... wish you were here...

on, and on, and on, and on... and on.

happy birthday to... me?

2006-10-20T22:32:00.000+03:00

well, this is the blog that is long overdue. as a matter of fact, i should have written it on october, 5th. because, like any other proud blogger out there, i meant to celebrate my blog's first birthday. don't laugh, serial bloggers do that. and rightfully so, because in time, your grow fond of your blog, as you see it growing in time and yourself with it.

i've been on blogger for longer than that, with a poetry blog, but one year ago, on october 5th i decided to commit various thoughts not to paper, as i had done before, but to the internet. and thus, this very blog was born. i have planned this entry some while ago, when i looked back at older posts and wanted to comment on them, but thought i'd save it for a birthday post (which i obviously missed, but nevermind). i am glad i didn't give it up when i was on the verge of doing so... and the vast community of fans i was joking about... it's not vast, and they're (or rather you're...) not fans... but it feels good to be read by people you care about *hugs*. ok, before i get all teary and pathetic, here goes:

i laugh heartily now at my first entries, with just a couple of lines, "letting people know" of stuff, such as the adventure quest game or the new bon jovi album, upcoming games and movies i was looking forward to (namely heroes V, harry potter and narnia).

then there came the test rush... i think i did all tests available on blogthings at that moment... driving at least one of my readers mad (luv ya nevertheless) and to the delight of another test fanatic (cheers, girl!).

then there was little stuff from work that made an impression, like in the post the importance of being friendly and some lines about my work as a volunteer for ecovet. slowly but surely, however, more insightful posts... not universally insightful, but to me. and of course, the occasional rant at the stupid, stupid, stupid world we live in (and it's only just beginning...).

at the end of last year there was a two months hiatus in posting. i thought i'd give it up for good. i lacked subjects and i also resented the idea of posting in plain view of someone who'd follow my every step in the blogosphere. and then... january 10th i said what the heck. this is too important for me to have it spoilt. and i resumed, with the longest blog to that date - the list of my adventure quest vampragon pets.then came another series of tests, ecovet updates... and then began also the totally unrelated random musings that came to be a habit, as well as the long series of brokeback-related entries: first the post about the movie, then my entries of brokeback feeling :) coming up next was the long list of personalities and the related posts.

a new era was inaugurated with the looooong do chairs have dreams?... i was lacking subjects, asked a friend, he came up with the idea and i begged for the pics :D. well, from that point on, long, more or less philosophical entries started to flow. and the pics were getting better - courtesy of bogdan and of the folks of deviantart :)

the posts got longer and longer, mini reviews of past and present, with a special spotlight on the summer highlight - the placebo concert in bucharest this august.... and up to this very date. with loads going on in my life and me trying to keep posting somewhat regularly. and among the hassle, i took a break tonight to wish my blog: happy birthday.

and again... update

2006-10-18T21:34:00.000+03:00

my vast community of fans *grin* has chided me for not posting in a while, and rightfully so, i dare say. i am not even attempting to apologize (hell, not like i needed to...), but am just assuring you that i had reasons enough. been really busy, to the point of having a bad conscience when thinking of logging in to blogger instead of seeing to more pressing (and serious, some would argue) matters. and was then way to tired to come up with a half way decent writing mood.

(for your information: i am doing this now because i promised several persons i would. i have written loads and accidentally shut down my browser window... am just re-writing this... *insert rolling eyes here*).

the project i mentioned in my previous post got approved. it's official, i got the email from the financer today. and i also got a phone call from a friend, unofficially this time, informing me how my dear colleagues who haven't moved a finger while i was writing it, are making plans on it. well, they made a slight misscalculation: me. and, as some know while others seem to be oblivious, i am not good being left out of equations that directly concern me.

also... i know that i am acting like a spoilt bitch again. i know there are loads of (more or less enthusiastic) people and/or organisations out there, who were hoping for exactly such an occasion and are disappointed; while i sit here with a winning project in my hands and experience no joy... just a somewhat grim satisfaction through gritted teeth. and sadness at the idea that i have no one to really work with. i can't really let our youngest volunteer do all the work, and i have been proven over again just how serious and reliable my colleagues are. sad enough :(

with the other organisation... we have a major event coming up this very saturday, called dOGTOBER fEST. another one-man show almost, this time run by someone else though. i have been giving a hand with the printed matters: leaflets, posters, business cards, diplomas, etc. i am likely to blog more about it after the event, so won't say much about it. just that while i was working afternoons this past week, i stayed up at night to design those materials. i have come to develop a passion for graphic design, apparently...

at work... i have come to the point of putting in my messenger status that i'm bored with it, which is no news. it still is just as comfortable and almost non-demanding, which is a disadvantage at this point. however, i do not want it to become more demanding, because i do not envision myself doing this for much longer. i knew it was way below what i can do, but it has now come to be way below what i want to do. also, i know from hearsay that they wish to take me to another project, which involves telesales (yuck) in german (yuck). i won't do that, not for triple my salary, no sirree (not like they'd offer that much).

what else? apparently i started classes - for those of you who lost track, i am studying for a masters degree in 'management and marketing in advertising' (see, designing posters isn't that far-fetched). i managed to pay my studying fee on time this time (hip-hip-hooray).

on a lighter note (and thus close to my heart): i have finally put up my webpage on my own domain name. no more commercials for me and easy ftp upload :)

also, i have uploaded my account on fotocommunity.de - i am now a paid member with full rights (i will not give you the account of the odyssey entitled "how it feels for a romanian to subscribe to an internet paying service when romanians are renowned for credit card scams on the net") - took a while but... hooray, i'm in.

linked to that - i have entered a photo contest some time ago on that very site; picture got mark 6,000 from a professional jury (winner had 8,333) and landed on place 90something (i thought it was 99, but there are several with the same mark) out of 1352 entries. which i declared was great, since my goal was the first third and... i obviously achieved that :D

otherwise... not much to report i guess. or nothing that would make it to the blog. i'll try keeping up some sort of a rhythm with the posts - i have another four coming up, one that was due over two weeks ago and while talking with seraphimovic, he gave me the idea for another one. so five blogs are waiting in line. you will be fed. howgh!

flashback

2006-10-12T14:23:00.000+03:00

do you happen to have memory flashbacks triggered by smells? i do. actually i think they make up the majority of my flashbacks. it's 4 a.m. and i just had one and then followed the flow of thought.

i am at work, i went to the bathroom and when i opened the door to the other corridor, the smell hit me for just a fraction of second. i can't really say what it was... maybe cleaned moquette and warm printer's toner... i am not even sure what it reminded me of, since it was such a short thing. i just knew i had smelled that before and it already slipped back into the subconscious.

the closest association that i could make consciously, several seconds (an eternity) later... was a summer's day... back in highschool... i went to my mum's office... she was still working at the dept. for international relations at the uni... they had laid new moquettes on the floor, dark blue... i went there... my mum had an internet connection (omg!)... i hanged out for a couple of hours, she was busy sorting papers as she had just moved in the office... i surfed... i registered on a bon jovi fan site... (when i googled my name - yeah, i do that - a year ago or so i found my ad there)... i printed loads of articles... interviews... i still have them, in a file... most of them come from that day... i had a new pair of jeans... light blue, really light blue... my mum's colleague remarked upon them... the next pair of that colour, i bought a couple of years ago... summer jeans, not the kind i usually wear... and a beige top, with a light blue 'blind' logo... i wore both when i was out with colleagues in the town center... gathering signatures for something... i was young and... not stupid... definitely not... but hoplessly idealistic... even if some old bastard stopped at some point... and said he wished communists were back... then we would all burn in ovens... that was the nazis, asshole... go die your pitiful lonely death... your grandchildren probably hate you, you children don't talk to you and no one would show up for your funeral anyway...

then... the film stopped. back to reality - i'm a bit cold, i'm wearing the jeans again that have the buttons that give me an itch, and i have a slight toothache (no, my friend, i have not gone to the dentist yet). i love these experiences... they have amazing an accuracy of every recording - sound, sight, temperature, the way the light was falling, the smell and how i felt at the moment.

i have lost that idealism. i got the confirmation today that the project proposal i submitted for financing got through the first phase of evaluation... i need to send in some more details for it to be taken into consideration. i don't want to do it. i have no one to do it with. no one i can rely upon when it gets down rough. i lack the enthusiasm. i have proven myself that i can do it and am not tempted anymore. i don't have or don't want to find the time. i have other things to focus on, things that bring me more satisfaction. i have moved on and hung my superhero costume in the closet... let it rot there.

in some ways, i resent that. in others, i know it's better like this. better for me, anyway. but then again, that is selfish. but selfishness in this case is a matter of self-preservation. it's all so darn complicated, duties and desires. and now what? am i to decide whether classicism or romanticism have the upper hand? choose between the two? i know it sounds absurd but i so wanted the application to be rejected... to have the decision taken off my hands...

choices again, and i do not want to make them and even less do i want to act upon them, stick to them and promise myself i won't regret. i had pushed it to the back of my mind, wanting to scratch a thing off my list. make this a halfway quiet autumn.

ps: the cobwebs i mentioned missing in the previous post: it's full of them :)