versions of violence and other barks

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

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...

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

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...

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...

soap bubbles

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 :)

muse-ic

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...

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. :(

hello, hello, turn your radio on

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.

storm

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.

random stuff

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.

tearing myself apart

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

i'm losing it...

... 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

... 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.

time capsule

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.

l'ombellico del mondo

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!

bottom line is...?

... 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.

i can't help it *grin*

trains hate me... but someone loves me

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

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.

and again... update

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!