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

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.

anyone know a good lawyer?

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

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.

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.

:(

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...

i was born too late...

... 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.

new blog

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 :)

there's a feeling i get...

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.

stone sour - bother

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

...

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.

greedy bastards

i had just complained about the fucking money, hadn't i? of how much i hate money, depending on them, needing them for anything, having to do for them what i don't like...

well, here's another dish for you. no, actually two.

greedy bastards part one: i got sick of discussions on internet forums stating that women are interested creatures, who're dating guys for... well, not necessarily money, but gains of sorts: appartment, fancy lifestyle, going out, prestige, careers, being driven around, holidays, getting more or less expensive gifts. not necessarily the cash, but what the cash brings.

yesterday - tv show with the fucking same issue and my parents discussing it. and the point is... it's not that i don't think they're right. i think it's a shocking number of people out there, doing precisely this thing: prostituting themselves for material advantages. more or less. taken strictly, working your ass off in a work you don't enjoy is a sort of prostitution. however, it is a common, socially accepted and morally acceptable type. there are far too many people out there selling themselves in worse ways.

and... well, women seem more prone to do that in relationships. in this case... well, my respect goes to the regular hookers giving blowjobs for money. at least they're not trying to pretend to be something else. they are prostitutes and this is what they do for a living: sexual services to whoever pays. how many people out there love their job anyway? the rest... are the real whores. they never go home after 6 or 8 or 10 hours of job. they are prostitutes 24/7 in order to eat expensive dinners, drive flashy cars or sport expensive shoes and a tan made in italy.

again... the point is... i know that it happens. far more than it should. and the price goes down, too. it's tending to become the normality. i believe it's anyone's own problem if they sell themselves. but i hate generalizations. i hate it when i hear "women do this and that". i even hate it when i hear "most women do this and that". because somehow, people tend to overlook the minority. and then it becomes "most of you women" or "what can we girls do, it's so hard to.... we need to...".

well fuck off, stop labelling me! cause unaware or not, you are including me in that stupid category. i don't know what we women do, cause i am not the collective conscience of womanhood on earth. neither do i know what we girls could possibly do, all i know is what i do or am willing to do. and blowjobs for holidays are not on the list. neither are sheepish smiles for dinners in town.

conversly, i am absolutely not impressed by guys telling me what car or mobile phone they have or boasting how 'cheap' they got a really good apartment with 50.000 euros. that is not an asset from my point of view. in fact loads of money put a big warning label on your forehead. the more money and the more you boast it, the brighter the warning, the louder the sirene. and the more likely you are to include all women in the "suck up for a little attention from the rich guy" category, which belief is confirmed by your experience, since your boasting attracts them as naturally as flies to shit. you don't make me faint in delight, you make me puke, people.

greedy bastards part two: duran duran are having a concert in romania. well, it's a bit soon after the placebo experience for me... but i thought it's a one time chance and i'll regret it later if i don't go. so i told myself i'd go, cause it's harldy possible for tickets to be much more expensive than placebo which are a top band right now.

placebo tickets were 75 RON, so i expected the duran duran ones not to be over 100 RON, and that just in case they were really really assholes. well, surprise-surprise. cheapest tickets are indeed 60 RON, somewhere in the back where you're not likely to see much. good tickets are... (hold on to your seats) 250-300 RON. that is... well, outrageous to put it mildly. it's fucking 85 euros (100 RON are 28 euros) . who the hell pays 85 euros to see duran duran?!?!? i mean... hello, this is an attempted comeback we're talking about. i didn't check on other european dates (all east-european, i might add...), but the most expensive ticket in chicago is 65 USD... meaning 50 euros. like... hello?!?!? where do you think you are? and who do you think you are?!?!?! greedy bastards!

for a reference: since april 2006, the minimum wage is 370 RON brutto (104 euros). according to the www.wall-street.ro, the average brutto wage for august was 1122 RON (317 euros), meaning 842 brutto (238 euros). i'd be curious to know what the real average is, though... that is, extracting from the calculus all those money - for - nothing - makers: parliamentaries, bosses and bosslings of various public services that show no improvement but sport ever higher fees, football players all mouth, no action and tv presenters who have trouble speaking but think they're stars and earn stunning 5-8000 euros a month...

bottom line: yeah, i live in a fucking poor country. yeah, i do have a good salary, compared to others and those minimums and averages. yeah, duran duran are greedy assholes. and yeah, under these terms, of course loads of people boast their accounts if they have them. and yeah, of course prostitution of sorts is alluring to the rest :(

and no, i do not find this normal, because i do not belive normality is dictated by the majority, however much sociologists and statistics and good ol' gauss state the contrary.

well... i've just made myself sick. i am going to go puke the nerves out of me.

ps: pics to be added when i get home... am too angry to postpone posting.

ps2: i've checked. 65 euros for the most expensive tickets in both bratislava and athens.

sleepless and undone

just the other day i read someone saying that i sleep a lot. oh, how i wish that were true, especially now.

starting yesterday in the morning at 6 am till this morning at 7 am, at the umpth attempt, i managed to sleep an interrupted hour and a half, with my head on my desk. i got some six hours of sleep this morning finally... am just about floating now, but it'd take more than that to keep me going. especially seeing that i had probably slept around four hours on the night before.

so, what did i do? yep, it was shift change, of course. so yesterday i got the 7-15 shift. my colleague had some trouble, phoned he'd be in late, so i got out from work at 15:30. went for some last minute birthday shopping then - i still haven't found the precise thing i wanted, but it was cute enough to pass my cuteness test ;) i got home at 16:30, ate a little bit of something, washed my hair and headed for a board meeting of the doggie association. we have a major event in mid-october that requires careful planning and then, of course, organisation. of course i was late for the meeting *blush*, but by the time i got there, i could've already used some sleep.

i left at around 19:30, caught a bus back home, showered, changed and left for the next thing. at a couple of minuntes to 20:00 i arrived at the meeting with the girls. a good friend of mine is getting married next weekend and this was going to be her errr.... what's the equivalent of a stag party for a girl? (sorry, i still can't think straight. i can't think gay, either. i can barely write, let alone think... but i won't let that get in the way of the blog ;) - when have i ever? had i thought just a little, i wouldn't have posted what i did).

so, when we finally arrived at the location, we were six girls and two future mother-in-laws - yeah, they came along too and they were really cool - and the future bride. i've been saying i won't get married since i was twelve, for half of my life... i am holding that opinion up and yesterday only went to prove that i made wise decisions with 12. there is no way i am going to go through something like that. that being a one man show of strip and lapdance for the future bride. well, she missed half of it, since she was blindfolded - all the more fun for us, until the guy had the brilliant idea of moving on to the next girl... well, he only had two other 'victims' (i can tell that one of them definitely enjoyed it), since the rest of us 'fled' to 'safety' - that is, behind the couch. the two moms had the greatest time of all, i think =)) i made the mistake of saying out loud to the bride that i'm glad i wasn't in her place... i think i'm going to spend my birthdays alone from now on, cause i definitely didn't like the hints she and her mum dropped...

we were supposed to change location at 23:00, i skipped what followed 'cause, yep, that's right: night shift. i went straight to work - actually one of the mums dropped me off there. by 2:00 a.m. i could've used matchsticks to hold up my eye-lids. by 3:00 a.m. everyone on messenger had gone to sleep and i was developing a slight headache from lack of sleep... around 4:40 a.m. i finally managed to nap with my head on my desk, must've slept around an hour or so and then i kept nicking in till around 6:30.

then i got a sms from my shift relief, so i called him. he had had a long night himself, said he'd be late about half an hour and that i should just forward all calls to him and go home. i didn't even attempt to protest. it took me quite some minutes to steady myself on my feet, i opened the window wide to catch some fresh air and washed my face. i walked home when i was confident enough that my feet would carry me. i had forgotten the darn mp3player at home, so i had no music in my ears to keep me awake.

i slept like a log from 7 a.m. till around 13:00-14:00. just enough to recharge my batteries, but a far cry from what i'd really need. am at work now since 15:00 (the third shift in a row with only 8 hours in between). in order not to fall asleep i'm listening to coming undone in a constant loop, the korn song i mentioned before. serves this purpose well, as well as to anger release. if i had audioscrobbler at work, it would easily climb in the top5 of most listened songs :)

ps: am posting this later from home, since it's a mess with image attachment from work.

losers weepers (2) mtv trip in time

sorting out stuff in your room is really an occasion for a trip back in time... provided you are as good at piling up stuff as i am :) so, apart from finding things that should've never been written, yesterday i also went through stacks of audio cassettes.

in case you are too young: audio cassettes (or tapes) are those plastic things with a magnetic band inside, that you inserted into cassette (or tape) players and you listened to music... and every once in a while, you'd hear your favourite song completely distorted and it was no studio special effect, but the tape inside getting all messed up and you'd spend an hour gently pulling it from the player, trying not to wrinkle or god forbid, tear it.

yes, i am part of the generation who not only knows what they are... we worshipped them. it was back in a time when there weren't mp3s on every site (what is a site anyway?!?!), when cd-s weren't used as car decorations... when all you had was your radio and your... well, yes, mtv. and a walk-man for tapes if you were really hip. and you taped stuff. and you felt like it was easter when buying a cassette.

woo-hoo, those were the days. well yesterday, among other things, i found my... (ok, buckle up and hang on to your seats, folks) well... errrm... take that and east 17 tapes :D


yup, i owned those. i caught the Take That bug on the last few meters of their career, admittedly. and i was the weirdo who tought neither robbie nor mark the cutest, but jason (is anyone out there following me here?!?!?). jason orange. hell, i wonder what he's doing these days... as for east 17... they had a couple of nice songs and well... yeah, i thought tony was a cutie (still following?).

i remember watching the video for e 17's hold my body tight on dial mtv each day... i knew all the dance moves... i noted and kept the charts... and i died with happiness when my first ever love bon jovi conquered the dial mtv charts with this ain't a love song... yeah, those were the days, when my only worries were whether it would be ingo or enrico presenting the show. and those guys were hot, and i mean hawt (ok, maybe it was just me being a hyperventilating teen).


which, finally, gets me to the main subject of this post :) it is good old mtv, in the days when it was still good. in the days when it was only mtv europe and people all over the continent had a say in the shows... when it brought people together and showed issues they all cared about. when it had a teletext to which i owe some friends (cheers!)... when it was showing an attitude, when it was an edgy thing ahead of its time... and not merely a commercial television showing all the latest crap.

oh, sure, they had crap back then. but they also had some great stuff. they had the unplugged shows (first thing i ever saw on mtv was the aerosmith unplugged), and yes, they had the hottest guys around - ingo schmoll and enrico silvestrin. there was also the great ray cokes and his davina on mtv's most wanted - hey i've still caught robbie williams' naked butt live on air, ya know... and... well, they had greatest hits and mtv wasn't ashamed or feeling out-dated to show bruce springsteen or dire straits or aretha franklin along with take that and nirvana - who were polarising the listeners at that time (i liked both :P)... and mind you, we are talking mid-nineties here.


now? i am sick of turning it on... stupid mtv regionalization was a disaster from my point of view. no hot news from the heart of musical europe - the uk. no europe-wide video text service. crap vj-s who lack both professionalism and charisma. shitty music and idiotic listeners. this isn't the mtv who rocked the vote, who hosted the show that gives out the free your mind awards, who promoted young artists with their mini-mtv-clips... this isn't the mtv of which i was proud to be a viewer.

that mtv... that is locked together with a bunch of other memories, that remind me of a time when... when the world was still in order. but that's another post. this one was just meant to revive some sweet memories: glueing my eyes to the tv every saturday for the european top 20 (i had three notebooks filled with weekly charts...), pinning up posters with ingo and enrico, laughing my ass out with ray, watching singled out on summer nights (instead of a slutty pimp-show dismissed), learning dance moves from east 17 on dial mtv, feeling close to kids my age during hanging out, crying when watching the groundbreaking video to everybody hurts and... well, yes, taking the first steps into the world of rock :)

so fell autumn rain...

my spontaneous written answer to the written question "why do you love autumn?" sounded something like this:

"because beautiful songs were written about it.
and because in autumn... i sometimes find myself, even tough i always feel that i'm scattered with the leaves and melted away in the rain."

and only after reading it again, and seeing it in written, did i figure that it was the truth. had you asked me the question before, i would have probably said that i hate autumn, because of the inevitable depression in which everything starts sinking all of a sudden, with the heavy rainfalls.

i am speaking of late autumn here, when the fire of the foliage is long since extinguished by the constant drizzle and pour out of leaden skies, leaving behind only the charred twisting branches, that spike at the clouds, trying in vain to tear them to shreds, to let some golden sunlight shine down.

not the foliage is what defines trees, but the roots and trunks and branches. leaves are but a passing adornment, an outburst of faked joy of green and yellow and orange and red. they come and go, the rest remains. and in late autumn, the trees show themselves as they are.

that's why, i am like the trees. it is not the depression that comes over me with the coming of the autumn... it is the faked joy that i shake off, tired or wearing it, like dried out leaves. that's why, when those passing conventional smiles are scattered with the leaves and the tears melt away in the rain... i find my self.

so fell autumn rain,
but all things must pass
so fell autumn rain,
washed away all my pain
i feel brighter somehow,
lighter somehow
to breathe once again
so fell autumn rain,
washed my sorrows away
with the sunset behind
somehow i find
the dreams are to stay

lake of tears -
so fell autumn rain

ps: the image is called 'dead bodies everywhere'. the author is marcin stawiarz. i warmly recommend his site www.stawiarz.com as it is a treat for both eye and soul.

high and dry II

"i still have an older debt here, a review of the placebo concert. i translated what i posted on the roportal forum.

bucharest, sunday, august 13, anno domini 2006.

on an ordinary occasion, i would've been at home, thinking longingly of those lucky ones who got round to go to the szighet music festival, where placebo, radiohead, deus, the rasmus, iggy pop... would perform. on an ordinary occasion. but this wasn't ordinary. because before performing in szighet, placebo would have a concert in bucharest. thus, instead of staying home and dreaming, the undersigned was in a train to bucharest, reviewing 'homework' in those darned seven and a half hours, with tons of placebo on my player and the sunete magazine in my lap - a special edition dedicated entirely to placebo.

skipping the meet and greet (tnx again *kiss*), 19:00, somewhere near the concert venue. somewhere near, because the place was packed full. skip waiting, queuing, crowds, going forward with the speed of a drunken snail, throwing away bottles of drinks at the entry, the superficial check of the bags. yup, that's it, silly me, i could've taken my camera in spite of what the ticket read, but it wasn't actually mine but a borrowed one and i didn't risk it. finally, slowly but surely the crowd gets in, 5000 tickets, sold out show (i later heard they were actually 6000). now skip again on pepsi cola's exclusivity on selling drinks, skip the fact that i didn't want to have steal-able stuff on me and ended up not having the cash for a t-shirt and let's get to the point.

warm-up by a certain rock dj, ab4 the opening act. i like them, they are sometimes ear scratching, their english is somewhat rusty, but overall ok. they can't complain, i sang :D, songs picked were mainly from their english language album 'broken trust', apart from hol, which, as someone noted, was hol and not cold. i remember hearing born to learn, missing parts, different horizons, rising stars and preferences. anyway, there are tracks on the album that would've been a better choice. all in all, i guess it was the largest crowd they ever played, even if not the most interested one :D

then THEY come on, the gods... "hello, ladies and gentlemen of bucharest... we are the ladies and gentlemen of placebo". crowd gone crazy, i look around during the songs from meds, their latest album, the one promoted through the tour, songs that weren't singles and yes, people sing. the atmosphere is great, meds-songs obviously make most of the playlist, but there are also well known hits, when the roars of the crowd fire up.

the opener is infra-red, one of the best if not the best track of the album... "someone call the ambulance, there's gonna be an accident", well, i at least am high, this is no night to consider sore throats, "i'm coming up on infra-red, there's no running that can hide you, cause I can see in the dark...". next up is meds, another killer track, no it's brilliant, though i somehow miss the chick's voice... "baby, did you forget to take your meds?", nope, that's not the issue, there is no med that can put up with this, and then because i want you. so do we. then the screams get even louder when black-eyedstarts, yep it looks like the right people came to the concert, then song to say goodbye and what can be cooler than spending money on a ticket to hear a dude sing you "you are one of god's mistakes, you're crying tragic waste of skin" to some hypnothizing chords, and no, i am not a masochist, i'm just a darn happy fan.

but it can get better, next is special k, the first placebo song i ever heard, with that wonderful video with the mini-sub. then the inevitable technical problems, "this being a totally live show things are bound to go wrong, and right now they just did", guitars changing, and yes, the show must go on, there starts another special... special needs this time. "just nineteen, a sucker's dream, guess I thought you had the flavour, just nineteen and dream obscene with six months off for bad behaviour" and no, i am not nineteen, but i can rise up to any hysterical bsb-fan or whoever it is they are worshipping these days.

then, again off the meds album there is drag, "you're always ahead of the pack, I drag behind", no you don't, they are really on top and they are here, live, in font of me and i still don't believe it, then every me and every you, people sing it out loud, as someone said, well not some anyone, but the seraph in person, it's the placebo song of which every loser (aka manele listener) knows. of which, yes, but which - i doubt. however, who's there knows and sings. then there's one of a kind, "on top of the world you get nothing... done" and then see you at the bitter end and placebo exit stage. people scream, shout, clap on seats for around five minutes, i still don't know whether what followed was an encore or just the resuming of the concert after technical trouble. fact is, placebo are back on stage, and what can be heard is running up the hill, a kate bush cover. brian introduces the band, after which nancy boy follows, "got the muse in my head, she's universal", yes she is, but placebo leave again.

the public screams again, i am caught somewhere between fear and hope, it can't have been all, but what if...? no, people keep shouting, it can't be over, and this time i'm sure it's an encore, yes, placebo are back, steve, the guitar player heads through the crowd, brian apologises for being late and for the technical problems, thanks the public for their patience and the incredible atmosphere, promises that "they'll be back soon", i know it's a nice thing to say but i can't refrain from hoping, and i still do... next up is twenty years, and yes, after that they are gone for good.

we're off with crowd, out of the venue, we hold each other's hands so we won't get lost, it's six of us, three definitely in ecstasy, two of us haven't come down yet, for sure... if someone asks me how it's been, i still have trouble giving a coherent answer that is not monosyllabic, it's a whirl of sounds and lights, imagines and sensations. it seemed to last forever and when it was over, it seemed it didn't really happen... where were haemoglobin, slave to the wage, english summer rain, pure morning, without you i'm nothing... where were post blue, pierrot the clown, follow the cops back home... there were so many and yet so many were missing :(

what followed was a white night (tnx again for the company :*) and a trip back home by train, half of which i slept through, and half of which i re-listened to the songs in a trance, i still didn't manage to grab a poster but someone took care of me apparently :) but in the station i didn't know that yet, i was looking filled with envy, but also proud at all the people the train spit out at tis destination, posters in their hands. i slept and thought impressions would settle, but it's not the case, proof being that it took me so long to write this review, which i still wouldn't have managed if someone hadn't done it on the forum, and he seems to have remembered everything :)

high and dry

that's how i feel :( totally happy, but totally unsatisfied. the one highlight of this miserable summer (oh yeah. i skipped the blog relating my 'wonderful' holiday. friends know and the rest shouldn't care... i spared both you and me the trouble), the year isn't showing any signs of improvement, and... it's gone in a flash.

a long expected party

the thing i'm talking about is the placebo concert this weekend in buchaerst and all things connected to it. yep, the band that souveraingnly rules my most played artist chart on last.fm ever since i've created the account came to this stupid third world country i have to call my own. a must go to event. and an excellent occasions to meet people whom i haven't seen in years and some i've never seen. and whom, i must confess, i'd gladly exchange with ones here, who i'm bored and tired and sick sometimes of being too close. :)

many meetings

hey, that was the biggest gang that ever waited for me in a train station - four people! *grin* there were six of us who eventually entered the concert venue. i will not use this blog to comment on the organising issues. or complain that i hadn't thought of taking enough cash with me to get a t-shirt, or that i wasn't bright enough to get myself a concert poster :( or that pepsi had exclusivity on selling drinks (yuck). i will just say that the event itself was worth every penny and maybe more. the opening band was ab4, one of my favourite romanian bands. this must have been the biggest crowd they've ever played, the place was full. and when placebo came on... i haven't tried weed yet, but if/when i do, i promise to tell you whether it can beat this. time seemed to be frozen, people around were frozen, all that mattered was the here and now. or the then and there. it seemed to last forever, but then again it was so short and over so soon... i was left there, in the middle of something, trying to find myself... and the way back to ground for my feet.

the breaking of the fellowship

i didn't. not for the entire night. three of us went to a club and two of us remained till... they kicked us out. and then we strolled slowly to the city at night and set on a bench, talking. and then we took a cab to the train station. and... ever had a twilight zone experiece? well... i did. when a glass door suddenly slides between you and the person you are talking to (and who wasn't standing more than two steps away, considering she was on the train platform and me on the steps)... that's a twilight zone experience. freaky. we didn't even get to say goodbye properly. the train swallowed me and kidnapped me from there, taking me away from my frozen bubble in space and time and back to... what?

the grey havens

well... there is nothing haven'ish about them... just grey. very grey. and all i'm left with is a bittersweet feeling. high and dry. am here, but am still there. tortured by the materialization in this world, unable to quite complete it, and unable to stay there... "baby... did you forget to meds?"

the flood

these are the lyrics to one of my favourite songs ever, the flood (die flut) by rammstein feat. witt/heppner. the lyrics are originally in german, they sound better like that, but i've also translated them in english. there is hardly a song among my favourites that i am not in love with the lyrics.

the flood

when i can’t feel any peace inside,
bitterness floods my dark heart,
i just wait for the next day that dawns on me.
when darkness shrouds clear vision,
no sense quenches the longing,
then i call forth the one dream, that never comes true

and you cry into the night and you pray for wonderstrength
for a better world to live in but there won’t be another

when comes the flood, when comes the flood over me?
when comes the flood, when comes the flood that touches me?
when comes the flood, when comes the flood that takes me away?
in another grand life, somewhere...

all the time, quickly passing by
blows away each trace of me like dust
unendingly far away, with an invisible hand;
isn’t there in the cold skies
a star that burns only for me
a dim light, ike a fire in the night, that never fades

and you look up to the heavens, curse the stubborn course of time,
build yourself a world of illusions but there won’t be another.

when comes the flood, when comes the flood over me?
when comes the flood, when comes the flood that touches me?
when comes the flood, when comes the flood that takes me away?
in another grand life, somewhere...

and you cry into the world that you don’t like it any more,
you want to live a better one but there won’t be another.

die flut

wenn ich in mir keine ruhe fühl,
bitterkeit mein dunkles herz umspühlt,
ich nur warte auf den nächsten tag, der mir erwacht.
wenn finsternis den klaren blck verhüllt,
kein sinn mehr eine sehnsucht stillt,
ruf ich mir herbei den einen traum,der sich niemals erfüllt.

und du rufst in die nacht und du flehst um wundermacht,
um ne bessre welt zum leben, doch es wird keine andre geben.

wann kommt die flut, wann kommt die flut über mich?
wann kommt die flut, wann kommt die flut die mich berührt.
wann kommt die flut, wann kommt die flut die mich mitfortnimmt,
in ein andres großes leben  irgendwo.

all die zeit, die schnell vorüberzieht,
jede spur von mir wie staub zerfegt,
endlos weit getrieben, von unsichtbsrer hand;
gibt es dort, am kalten firmament,
nicht auch den stern, der nur für mich verbrennt,
ein dumpfes leuchten, wie ein feuer in der nacht, das nie vergeht.

und du siehst zum himmel auf fluchst auf den sturen zeitenlauf,
machst dir ne welt aus trug und schein, doch es wird keine andre sein.

wann kommt die flut, wann kommt die flut über mich?
wann kommt die flut, wann kommt die flut die mich berührt.
wann kommt die flut, wann kommt die flut die mich mitfortnimmt,
in ein andres großes lebe irgendwo.

und du rufst in die welt, das sie dir nicht mehr gefällt,
du willst ne schönere erlebe, doch es wird keine andre geben.

the spirit of the hawk

i recommend early morning walks with headphones on when experiencing writer's block. it seems to be inspirational. i was walking home from work this morning at half past seven when i found myself swirling away in a quick succession of thoughts, which i hope to be able to trace back, now that i am finally seated in front of the computer. i wanted to post this blog before catching up on my sleep (and boy, do i have some catchin up to do!)

so here was i walking home, unusually early for me, headphones on. and then rednex' spirit of the hawk comes on. that song has something uplifting about it. and the (perhaps not so) strange connection my tired neurons make, in an attempt to provide imagery to sounds, i presume, is to pink floyd's take it back video. (i think it was take it back, might be learning to fly... i only saw the vid once, so correct me if i'm wrong. one of the things i have on my to do list is to catch up with the floyd discography, but that is another story).

the image and the sounds overlapped perfectly as the song went on and on... "high on a hillside, heaven above; drifting to high and low we fly away, me and my hero, me and my love"... and then came the sad part, the voice of the indian. "i am tired. my heart is sick and sad. i will fight no more." and i so feel it. i don't feel indian, i don't feel old, i don't feel wise. but i feel i have been at war for too long, and a futile war it is. however, how can i not fight? how can i stop trying to open people's eyes even when the light makes them blink? how can i stop trying to describe rainbows to blind troglodytes? how can i prove the existence of all that is good and kind, and joyous and worth living and living for to all those who prefer their dark, damp, cold and stony caves, to hide and cower in their corners, because they are afraid that sunlight will make them blink, rub their eyes and look at their lives in light? how... when i myself have a very comfortable cave indeed?

and yet... i do have my phial of light with me. i take it out in the darkest dark when i am afraid. and i look around and assure myself that the world is still there, and i am still in it and that i am ok, and that i can go out and look at rainbows. and sometimes i do. and while i may be miserable for days on end... those precious moments when i lay my head down and close my eyes and drift away in my mind... when i create my happiness for me... however short, those moments are worth dragging to a day, however miserable. and more often than not, they are less miserable than they seen, unless i myself insist on making them so.

and here was i some posts ago complaining i am no hawk. no, i am not. i will not jump off a cliff with a firm belief that i will sprout wings. but there is something of the spirit of the hawk in me. even if it shows for just a couple of minutes at the end of a tiring day. and if a part of me can fly for a while, then the rest of me may one day follow.

another brick in the wall

welcome to another incoherent rambling by yours truly. i somehow have a distinct feeling in my stomach that this is what this is going to be (see? it's already started...).
some smartass tried to be funny yesterday when i was sharing my desire to go out and be silly in the rain, pointing out the eternal 'see? that's what money and society turn us into'. thank you miss. was aware of that before i had a chance to even start dreaming. learnt it too, for four years - just how subtle it works sometimes. are you aware of the ways you are manipulated into believing things or behaving in ways? i don't claim to be; but i probably beat you at it. which is no reason for me to be glad, trust me on that one.
yeah, so i am another brick in the wall. i can shout out against the system till i run out of breath - what good will it to me? it's a wall that's too good cemented together for me to have an effect. all i do is waste breath and energy that could be put to better use elsewhere - like ducking my head in and making my position in the darn wall as comfortable as possible :)
seriously now, there are only two ways to break a wall. on of them it an outside force greater than the wall's resistance. not recommended. it damages most of the bricks most of the time in a brutal manner. what's the use for a poor broken brick that it's finally free of the wall, when it's been pounded to pieces? the other one... well, that's all-powerful time. time wears down any wall; unfortunately, it too gnaws at the individual bricks. ever seen a solid brick wall worn down, overcome by the green of vegetation, of life? it just goes to show that no wall is forever, they all will come tumbling down eventually. the only question is if the walls to come are better ones for the bricks that make them up... is the white house a better wall to be in than the palace of a mayan ruler? or is st. peter's dome a better wall than the ruins of glastonbury once were?

arrived here with my inner mumblings and mutterings i started listening to 'another brick in the wall'. all three of them. "i don't need no arms around me // and i don't need no drugs to calm me // i have seen the writing on the wall // don't think i need anything at all." these ones have always stuck a chord with me, ringing so... true. if i have nothing left to long for, if i stopped longing for growth - who or what can assure me that i am still alive and not given in to my brick nature until i have indeed turned to stone... and yet, what can a brick do, ultimately?
there is something that an individual brick can do. such a simple and easy to overlook answer: grow wallflowers. concentrate on life rather than a cold wall, put forth energy in that life. the roots plants strike will be an unhoped for aid in cracking the wall and relieving some of its pressure on the bricks.