good bye old stuff

Never felt this tired, end of year or not. I am losing my way in the streets, and I am forgetting things by the minute. All I want is to let it go. All the things that are holding me back. And sometimes I manage, but then I catch myself coming back to where I left it at.

I hope I'll be able to help myself to get better by the time I can stretch and bend my arm again, and lost the rest of my kidney stone, not only physically, but in my soul. It's overdue to make a good thorough cleanup in there, so that I can be free again, and find my own way.

Good luck with that, I really need it, and happy new year, I mean happy, not just saying it.

Lights out

All the countless lights that shimmer 

In the pitch dark of this wee hour

All the endless nights hither tither 

Lit by this spark, you set me on fire

Like those lights shine far and glitter

I can't stop burning with the little

You gave me when I needed it most

So it doesn't matter how much it'll cost

Push and pull

Over and over countless times and even more
I imagine I tell you how I feel for you
I love you, I need you, you're the one I adore
Asked the cards, asked my friends, what I'm supposed to do

I heard different opinions, learned much about you
Yet here I am yearning after two months or so
Searching a way to say it when it's only us two
But I'm freaking out all the time when you come close

I'm mesmerized by your eyes, I can't hold your gaze
I can hardly speak when I hear your voice again
I was hoping that this was but only a phase
Now I know I was wrong but I'm tired of the game

Cleanup time

I'm emptying the drum of the washing machine
the way I try to wash my drumming heart clean
Some socks come out with their matching pair
like I wish I could find my other half fair
But like PC's alarm of issues beyond repair
my soulmate I long for is out there to remain

a question of relativity

The plastic bag all used up and worn out
crawled closer precariously, sighing oh so tired,
Or was it the light wind that caught it up
and kept it go low while I was tricked by my mind

Moved by others or myself I feel like you plastic bag
used and abused I take a step forth then back,
Left on your own devices is not always that bad
when all those you search and find seems sheer mad

safety comes first

In this world we always seek safety. That means we don't feel safe. No wonder. If you have eyes and a clear mind, then you understand it's not safe at all. But the most difficult part is to accept that. So we create a creator. Even the biggest scientists, and especially them who go to the core of it all, give in in the end, and start to feel there must be a power behind it all.

And yes, power there is, plenty of it, and we like to feel it, and use it. Hence comes the misunderstanding, we tend to mix power and authority with safety. Some play roles all their lives. Choose someone you feel safe with. Make someone believe they're safe with you. Work for someone because you think it's safe, until you find out it's not. Some people like, or maybe make themselves believe that they like, to do dangerous things. Others do things against the law, some of them only to show that they can.

For instance, I personally like, to curse, also aloud and in public, because I believe it's a totally stupid taboo, and also for me it works as a fantastic stress reliever. I also love to turn to sex for the same reasons. And as I am gay, I think most would look upon sex then as an even bigger taboo. Their choice, but if all would focus on how many lives are, and have been destroyed by taboos, and abuse, even legally, officially, then people would understand what we actually all know. Restrictions will make even a child want to do whatever it applies to. And no, now I'm not saying legalize murder.

What I'm trying to say is if we would try to understand and accept each other as we are, and do the same with the world instead of over-analyzing and explaining without asking those concerned, the world could be a much better place. Then we could be much closer to reality, and to be able to accept it, thus feel safer.

Only if we could simply live and let others live, instead of being violent in a sofisticated or other way, or by setting up unwritten laws to make life a living hell for those who don't want to "go with the flow". It would make it so much easier for us all to be our real selves, instead of trying to be someone else than we are for someone else who wants us to be like that, in a made up world based on made up values.

Maybe then there would be a chance that we could live in a safe world. A world that we've been trying to change with false feelings and lies to ourselves and others, so long that we'd almost completely forgotten how it was really like.

soul clinic

Waiting hours to get help at an emergency reveals people's hopes and frustration more than anything else. Okay, maybe not more than dreams, haha.

At the very moment I entered that run-down building with a corridor completely packed with people wearing bandages on their different body parts, I understood it would keep us busy for the rest of the evening. And so I was told by the woman sitting next to me when I unwittingly quipped they had surely sent me there as a punishment with my broken elbow.

Her hubby who came with her was a very talkative guy. As a matter of fact, after a while we all became like that when we realized we were not getting out of there very shortly with only one single doctor for like the thirty of us.

Anyway, while his wife finally were called in, he told me about a friend of theirs, a shaman who does this on the side, as he has a lucricious job, so he wouldn't accept money, unless you decide to give some to him, of course. He's also a big-Hungarian taking care of values. I wonder what that's supposed to mean. No, actually I don't...

Then later we talked with this woman whose daughter got an accomodation that seemed like luxury under the circumstances, with expert health care in Transylvania after having suffered a car accident there.

It seemed like the solution was always to be found far away, and yet we were all spending the evening there with all our miseries in body and soul.

born to be alive

Got this clear moment yesterday when I was passing by the kids screaming in the school yard; that we are all the same as we used to be back then. We only change by age that we cannot control anyhow, and by appearance that we believe we can. But inside we're exactly the same person. Who else could we be? This is who we were born to be. This is our destiny.

I see people using tremendous effort and amount of time to become someone else. They would even stop to exist in case they were told that they failed. At least in their minds they do stop, and only go on living in their bodies. And so they're determined to fail from the very start.

Why? It's not just a fashion movement that takes over people's lives with all the vultures making money out of it. It's all the expectations from family, friends who all seem to know who you should be. But not how. Definitely not why. Maybe they want you to fulfil something they just don't seem to be able to do. There can be endless numbers of reasons. Though, if they cannot accept you just the way you are, it is much more their problem than yours.

Our whole western society is based on misgiven ideas about perfection, and changes. Look around where all the changes brought us to. And I hope now you're not mistaking me for someone who says we should have stopped in the stone age. Or that you are perfect with your laziness or hatred. No, and we all know I don't mean that. If you don't, don't waste your time reading this blog anymore.

It didn't all just start by consumerism to get all your money, and even your credits and loans, basically anything you'll ever earn in this life. It goes back through millenia when the abuse of self-bettering life concepts were looked upon as divine and therefore holy and unmistakable all the way up to our recent and present world of materialism just because we can't come up with anything better after having thrown away all other world views from us.

Now, you sure need to create the circumstances so you can live, and you need to make a living to do so. And as it says it's only circumstances, nothing else. So, what's wrong with being yourself and enjoying life when the job's done? If you don't feel comfortable as yourself, you definitely won't do so as someone else.

My advice is don't let any religion, science, bargain, system etc. that wants to change you, take over and control you. You were born to be yourself. Not by mistake.

Who are you?

I used to be pretty liberal for my little hometown. In my early twenties I had different colored hair, and since I was dying it myself it could look quite strange at times. And as I was dressing from second hand shops, I used to wear everything from black angora jacket to trapeze trousers. All this only at this age because in secondary you were not allowed to do it.

You could find me in blues pubs and at midnight performances in ruin factories, wherever something was going on. In the midst of all this I was also trying to find a partner which is rather normal at that age, I guess. My bad luck, so to say, is that I wanted to find another man. Simply because as long as I can remember I've always loved men the way some say a man should only love a woman.

Strange thing is you can get a bad reputation simply by being yourself. Like in a swamp, where you're being swallowed with every move you take. Though it didn't feel uncertain ground, the country was choking me. I mean the whole country.

The people who give in for nothing. For meeting the expectations of people who say they love them, and only want the best for them, instead of simply being who they are. How can someone seriously mean they love you, if they want you to be someone else?

Dreams are made of...

...your fears and hopes, I believe. What a job for the brain to work on them. No wonder it all becomes as oblique as a film noir.

In one of these recent mind shows of mine I was offered a job where I should put some kind of ointment on myself to draw mosquitos. And though couldn't understand the point, I still accepted it together with some others waiting there for work. Then found myself in some kimd of swamp with beasts coming up from it, while the others at the interview would sit around observing, and telling me it was what I signed up for.

Looks like this guy I fell for at work, now started to haunt my dreams, too. In one I have a coffee or maybe work in a dvd rental place, and he'd come in, find some movies, then leave, showing no interest to stay there with me, when I'd try to talk to him.

In another one I obviously work at a butcher's, and am trying to slice up a sausage for him, but have to find another knife, as the one I'm using is not sharp enough. When I try that one, he's about to leave, seemingly having lost his patience.

Then there was this re-occuring one the night before about a huge bridge structure with some cabel transport system that as usual, I am hesitating to take for too long, and so the chance is gone. Though when I sometimes do it, would get lost in the middle of it all.

And yet another fear exploring one the night after, about looking down from the top of the stairs because I can hear some noise approach as the lights go out. When it's getting real close, and I can catch sight of something blurry that moves in a very strange way, there is a crazy laughter that I'm not sure whether it comes from there or within me. This last thing gives me the creeps even wide awake.

how to spell

Saw your stereotype in the tram stop as I looked up
He seemed just as unspecial as you from this angle
The only way I dare to look at you, from behind or aside
And yet he made me feel like you, for a moment or two

So as I believed him to be you, my pulse accelerated, too
You're holding me under your spell from who knows where
And this I can't understand, is this your doing then or myself
Who keeps this feeling alive after so much time so well

I'm a walking nightmare...

It's dream session again. I had a few while away. Some that stuck with me over the days. Even made me look them up in the due book. And tell about them to a precious friend. Now here.

First I was checking out some records in a store. They turned out to be very special. And so I was talking about them with someone there who seemed to be interested, too.

Then I was discussing details of my wedding, or maybe more like how I was feeling about it, with an intimate friend. Only I was going to be the bride. So the aspects were more unusual...

Later on, either the same night or another one, I saw a guy - much like him at work, thinking so just by the way he was walking - entering the room, and for some reason, wearing motorbike glasses.

And so I was in a dark place where I caught sight of the cyborg gal from Blade Runner wearing that heavy make up around her eyes. And as soon as I realized this, still in my dream, I suddenly saw a guy with the same huge, black stripes around his eyes.

improbability drives

the snow came down in the fall
so I fell too, with no hold
I had no choice, couldn't call
your number not on my phone

d'you have any idea
o' what it would be like, yeah
a day spent together there
just the two of us, my dear

well, if you're uncertain
please, do not answer then
'cause I couldn't stand that
another dead end, damn...

my other self

I saw a raven taking a bath
in the fountain of the park
The sun and I were hiding
behind our respecting cloud

As you were not there anymore
and I stayed only for an hour
So either Vienna or somewhere else
I'm like that raven, taking my chance

'and it's always time'

How can you tell it was but a short time? How can you ever tell what it meant for someone else?
Time itself that we found out to say, tomorrow's another day, happy new year, and oops I got old, is all so meaningless, so incompetent.

All you ever feel is going on in there, inside you, and everyone else. It lasts exactly an eternity, every nanosecond of it, whether you're in heaven or hell. You can try and pretend that you can fool those feelings, but then you're only fooling yourself. It's a living hell or heaven all the time.

a day for the devil

the birds, the baby, scream away
i'm awake, and he's away
night turns into another day

considering all that weight
comtemplate, eliminate
without a grasp on it

it's dull outside, and dull in here
and all that you can hear
is desparation within
why haven't i told him

I think love

... if it ever was, is over now. It doesn't make sense, but it never did, did it? But I'm lying, first of all, to myself, because it seems absolutely hopeless, and because I don't want it to be over. The feeling, not the failure. That one's hard to accept. And therefore I want it to be over.

But I can't pretend, and I can't do so, especially to myself. I'm still checking on him, like when he's at his place. And if I can hear his voice from the kitchen, I can hardly hold myself back from running out there just to see him.

Instead I'm trying to focus on work, joking the empty moments away with my colleagues, be a part of reality. And it goes alright, though they can notice it on me that I'm very tired, and I'm not the same as I used to be.

It's because there's a terrible void inside me, opened up by something that could only be filled with the same thing. But it does not happen, and will it ever now?

I had to use an excuse, any kind, to distance myself from him. Sociopath sounded interesting mostly because it very much matched his personality, as much as I know of him from experience. The stary, hypnotizing eyes often with no emotions in them, and some strange stuff he did. Also the initial overwhelming kindness and attention, the kind gestures, and then a sudden loss of interest as I was shying away.

Maybe he is a sociopath, and maybe he's not. It doesn't matter because that's not the problem. It's that I can't accept the fact, had he also been interested, he would've quite certainly given a sign by now. I've invited him by being so endlessly lonely, I believe. I was a very easy target. But what can he do with all this, if he's not into me? Play around, I guess.  Does this mean I'm too proud to take a rejection for no real offer?

Instead of being humble and realistic by myself, do I really want to be humiliated by him so that I could finally wake up? I still wonder if it would help at all. Or would I dream on, and how long. I hope I'll soon look back on this, and laugh. Sounds all so pitiful.

love is a virus

It started exactly the same way, accidently. He happpened to get into the same elevator, was listening to me, and helped me to calm down. Then a few weeks passed before we met again. He seemed happy when he came over to shake hands, smiling. Just like the virus takes its time to prepare, and then it takes you.

All that followed seemed like getting sicker with love every time we saw each other. Coincidentally we met more and more often, and he used all the chances to get close to me. Once he even sneaked behind me in the rest room while I was drying my hands. And I noticed him standing there silently, staring at me.

But then I don't know how I affected him with my getting shyer all the time. In the end I could hardly look at him when our ways crossed, and only mumbled a hello that was more like a sigh. Then one day we ran into each other, and I heard him saying to his buddy 'Oh no, not again! Will it go on forever like this? I can't take it anymore! If someone wants something they should just fire away!'

This story doesn't have an end, nor any conclusions. It is fully based on real life events, and the characters are exactly as described. Morals? I think the problem is that we are full of them.

The dreamlife of angels

This, now, and only now, that I hope to feel that way, at least sometimes, it came to me as a revelation. Both girls were in love, in their own way.

One, unprepared, and so completely vulnerable, and at the same time wild and unpredictable like life itself.
The other gently, receiving and sharing with the one who is ready, never regretting, and so never sad. Again, like life itself.

At times, like now, I become inexplicably selfish and silly, and I only want to share with one in particular. Yes, just like life can be sometimes.

if you...

are suddenly not sure if it's 2016 or 2017, or if you've already seen that movie or it just has a very similar ending to another one you'd seen before... it's completely okay 'cause it doesn't mean anything.

The thread (we're all hanging on)

During this week's forest walks I sometimes saw the ground moving when I got very tired. It made me think of the prophets who saw and heard things people usually don't. Just like oracles, shamans, seers and fortunetellers; those who have the gift of clearvoyance.

Most of them, willingly or by fate, used to retreive into the wilderness or even get lost there, and also exhausted to the extremes. Under such circumstances one sees the so-called reality in a different way. And again, what's reality? It's based on an agreement of the majority who perceive it in the way that determines the word itself.

But these "outsiders" who often get paid by food, and only live with it when they're really in need of it - right because their way of life and interests lay outside of that of the majority - they also see the world from another point of view, for the very same reason.

The same way, if you hold yourself out of the influence of propaganda or media - and here I don't mean the news or the agenda of a political party or that of a commercial company, but in general, others' opinion - and you only focus on what's really important, like life and death that concerns all, then you can see the rest of it as meaningless tiny details. Then you can see everything on a broader horizon, and with a mind free of the daily miseries.

The ancients called them the Gracious Ones, they who'd spin and weave, and ultimately cut the thread of life. I was often thinking about them on my forest walks, though I can only see it now, as it all happened in the back of my mind, while I was wandering around and wondering at the beauty of this world.

The switch (acceptance)

You have to turn it on or off, depending on what you want. I guess that's why I love how Norwegian expresses it 'slå på eller av' that is 'hit it on or off'. Because it might actually feel like you hit it hard and so it might hurt. But there's no-one else who can do it for you. And that's the reason why; it's you, and so it's your and only your choice. Hence the misunderstanding; it's your life.

Think about it. You're a part of all this that you can see and sometimes can only feel around you. It's all that there it is, and you are just as much as everyone else, and everything else is, a part of it. No exceptions. Once you can accept this, you also are, and really, truely are a part of it. Until then, you're like a switch in off position; you want to hold back something that has never been yours, or you don't want to take something that will never be yours, just for the chance to experience it.

There are no such things as bad and good stuff. Things we can physically see or touch - nice or ugly, round and smooth or edgy that leave marks on us - are like those that happen; they might feel fine or they might hurt. But they're all part of the whole, like everyone of us, whoever has been here and will be here. As time is also only a part of it all, just like space.

We can choose to hurt and worry, but then we can't blame it on the circumstances, as it's us who are doing it, but for ourselves, and no-one else. So, it's our choice and decision to accept everything, and let it go, or keep it.

Just like to believe that keeping things that make us feel good or wealthy or healthy, and so on, would help us. Think about it, they didn't belong to you before, and when you're not here, they won't be yours anymore. So, how you can you believe it for a single moment that you are possessing anything at all? But if you read this, one thing is for sure; you are.

Thin ice

Now that I'd seen that fly on the window sill, and have jotted down and uploaded that short zen-like thing, you might even think that this is the long version of it. At least it hit me now, as I've just done it.

Anyhow, the story that I've kept here for a while is about this burger place owner who said about a little guy, that was going around and talking to everyone and anyone there while waiting with his Mom to get the food, that he'd be living even on thin ice. He will yet find a pretty girl and then he'll be able to live under any circumstances.

Well, right here I don't want to go into details why the owner felt like adding that last part, as he also had a girl behind the counter, and another one in the kitchen, and who knows how many others at different places there or other places in his life. If you see what I mean, who makes the living for whom, after all.

The way I see it, the problem is not that people are not able to survive. They do try, and rather hard also. The problem is that they're systematically being robbed of all their chances, no matter what and how hard they try. While others use that situation for their advantage. And this has nothing to do with making your living even under hard conditions. This is but the total contrary of live and let others live. That's what it is. But now that I started, let me take it somewhat further.

It's not like we have to help ourselves and the rest have to get on themselves. And then we can quote one of those hundreds of good sounding, but basically absolutely unhelpful slogans to try and prove that it's all your fault if you're not able to get above the system that you're just as much a part of as anyone else around you.

The system was NOT made for YOU to succeed. Even if you made it, and think you're finally there. No, that only means you gave in. But it's neither like if you can't help me, then you rather try to fix your own problems first, because unless you can do that, you can't help me either.

Until we don't change the very world we have created for ourselves, there's no possible way to get out of our misery, exactly because there's a natural way how the real world that we're living in, can survive. And no matter how much we're trying to prove that it can exist also otherwise, and even better with our "help" - which is only disturbance and nuance to it, that it has never asked for -, there's only one way to live together.

And that is not a hidden mistery or something like that. You don't even have to have a university degree to understand it. Just use your own intelligence born with you, right in order to survive. And this is also something that we have been robbed of so long and so purposefully by this consumer world and all of its lies: our own common sense.

That's how we can be turned against each other, when we're successfully convinced by the profit-makers that we cannot live without their toys, and that we have to serve their system to make our own living. Which basically means that we give even that little money back to them again and again, so it will never be ours. Simply because it does not exist, not in their hands, and not in ours; it's only a game, and a self-distructing one. As you can see that so well from examples like the so-called economical crisis.

Co-existing can be reached and kept up first of all, by accepting and respecting each other as people, by understanding we are all the same, regardless sex, color, nationality, religion, and all these things we ourselves started to use and abuse so effectively, but only to result in the sorrow world we're living and suffering in. And yet we're still trying to blame it on each other, instead of starting to change it together.

Do you think it is really shocking that Grace Jones is dancing naked on the open scene? She's been doing that for so long, maybe only in little clubs and not on huge stages. And why, there are so very many women who can (nearly) only make their living this way, even if they're as intelligent as her. Simply because this is one of the consequences of the rules we've set up for our own little world on this planet.

For the very same reason I don't support today's superficial gay movements, and especially not their parades at all. Making whores out of men wouldn't help it all. How can you ask for respect, or even being accepted when you shake your butts naked in public? Sexuality, and private life, as also its name suggests is for our own and only our discreet personal relationships, and no-one else has anything to do with them.

To make it public, or as they like to put it, to come out, is to let yourself get all confused and everyone else, too, about reality. Which is that it is your own life, and exactly this part of it has nothing to do with anyone else in the world, but your lovers and you. Exactly as you usually don't talk in public about your close friends and what you're doing in your private time. Or if you do, then it's definitely not private at all, but a superficial something to show that you have that, too, like everyone else, so you fit in, and now you also follow the rules.

You know what it means to make your private life public? It's nothing else but to let yourself being robbed of your personality, and to make you being controllable and giving up yourself completely to those who couldn't get this close to you before the time of the so-called social forums (like this one, for example).

Don't you think there is a connection between everything? Even when the knob on your chest's drawer falls off again, and you think how much you paid for it to get it fixed, or for the new one, or anything else, to that matter. It all comes to one thing: profit versus us. Either way you go, until you take part in this, you follow their rules.

We are not machines, but we have needs like them, and we have to be maintained like them. But it seemed that we were less easy to be ruled than them, so the industrialisation started. And then the age of computers, and so the mainstream use of computers with human work force. Simply because this seems to be the easiest way to make more profit with less expence, investment and effort.

Most people would after all give up anyone else around them, simply to avoid experiencing the same. As if that really means they prevent anything by doing so. On the contrary, they only support the rules of those who try to use us as mindless and soulless machines, or only figments of them.

It is definitely not an achievement, and it is not the future, I hope. Do YOU want a future where you're a mere cogwheel, and are even supposed to be proud of it, to serve a self-destroying system that destroys you and even the very hope of a liveable future? How far we can go on like this, living up all the natural resources of this world, including oil, coal, and minerals, without replacing them, so that we support the balance where we took them from? And at the same time we're using up our very selves, instead of relying on the natural balance and our common sense to live together with our environment and each other without killing everything and everyone, as proud and important ones.

Yes, it can still go on for a while, and the numbers only matters for those who make profit of it. But also for them only until they will have to face that from nothing there is nothing they can gain. However the order has to be maintained, if not naturally then artificially; either with dictatorship and wars, or with commercialism and loans.

People like me who used to spend a bit more time thinking, and when they come to some conclusions they share it with others in this or that way, used to be called thinkers or philosophers. Have you heard that word about someone recently? I haven't, for sure. The only word I've heard: "Do as you're told!" and also, in a not so hidden way: "And shut the fuck up! Don't think we're interested in your opinion" Now, there's your brave new and tediously sick world.

These days if someone is thinking, they're looked upon as useless folk, as dreamers and idealists. Well, not only today, I know that. And we even have funny expressions to show that philosophising about something leads only to nothing. No, and you know why? Because until something is done about it, it only stays ideas, and not actions: that simple.

But I'll never stay out and tell anything like this in Hyde Park, or spread it in secret like Goldstein, so no-one will really know whether I exist or not. And that is because I know very well that unless someone comes to this conclusion, I or anyone else can tell whatever they like, there will be no effect on others. And you have a great one.

balance

the little fly is warming itself in the sun
the sun so mighty does not care about it
it does not ask for money in return
and does not want to destroy the fly for it

they fulfill their purpose in this life
they don't want to change this world
and that is exactly why they can live in it
to their fullness, and not care about it

my ideals

Instead of arranging huge international sport events - yes, I mean the olympic games, and football championships, for instance - we could help people right there where's a war.

And I don't mean flying over and bombing. Do you think it really helps them? Would you want that were you in their place?

I just can't see the world as a whole, and absolutely not as modern, when exactly those who have the money and the power to help those who suffer, use these things to gain more of them, and to turn people's attention away from important things.

But we all know this, and yet we think it's more interesting to watch it on teevee and important and glorious to partake in these games. And how long we want to pretend to be children who put games ahead of reality?

Let the children be children while they can and if they can, instead of stealing their childhood and turning them into precocious and overdriven little adults. And let's see the real needs, and what we can do to help them.

our world view reviewed

Do you really think there's a Catholic, a Lutheran, or to that matter a Jewish or a Muslim god? Do you think we can take the Creator apart?

Look at creation. Do you see any labels there? It's only in our heads. For a while we were able to live as part of our environment or just didn't have enough tools to tear it all apart.

We still don't want to see what we're doing. Too much blinded by pride, and fooling ourselves that we need all what we've created at all price. What's it going to be worth when there's no more playground that we left for ourselves?

We're not the masters of this universe. In fact, we're far from being our own masters. We can't save ourselves, we can't even behave ourselves. But we can always pretend. Good luck.

Don't worry, be yourself

In my early twenties I used to make my own jewellery, and buy cheap seventies retro clothes in second-hand shops, because back then this was not so chic that you could get it prefabricated in chain shops. And first of all simply because I loved some people's style, and wanted to look like them.

But also I was never afraid to behave how I felt, and say what I was thinking. I probably didn't lie more in my life than I could count on my hands, and also then only to avoid to hurt someone unneccesarily. And I'm not saying this to sound like I'm a saint or something like that. Simply this was and still is the easiest and most natural way for me to be(have).

So it can surprise me more than many other things (for instance direct lies on the news, as I know it's all politics) when I hear my boss tell me on one of these putrific one-on-one meetings (as even its name suggests it) about the team I'm working with: "Well, you're all strong personalities, yet you work together pretty well."

This together with the problem that after my 3-month probation time I yet haven't reached the 99.5% accuracy rate. To which I pointed out that each month I enter more and more orders, not 5 or 10 more, but hundreds, and make less and less mistakes (like from 10 down to 5). But, obviously statistics rule.

And so I wonder, how she really meant that comment, and why she brought it up exactly now, because, believe me she's trying to be a foxy player, but to me it's quite easy to see through this bullshitting. Yes, we have personalities, and don't become robots at work either, even if the work itself is robotic. When that becomes a problem, the world is soon over, I'm telling you that.

The spot

The spot was turning, moving, changing slowly
The spot looked almost like a flower only
The spot suddenly took to wings and disappeared
So it was a bug and not a banshee as I feared

I think, therefore I am...

not employed by a Shared Service Center. One day I'm going to write that book. Until then here's another story from my personal experiences while working for such places.

What can motivate one to go to work each morning more than statistics? And then especially the kind that takes everything into consideration, except that it is about a human being, and not a machine. 

I mean when you have to register orders with 99.5% accuracy while at the same time you cannot communicate directly with the customers, neither the salesmen - though you have to read their often incomprehensible emails to do your job -, instead you have to ask the so-called local team to contact them to find out what they really want, but at the same time your employers prefer you to work with as few cases sent back with questions as possible...???

And then you get a complaint for everything, even if you asked and the local team simply forgot to inform the customer that you'd fixed the mistake, and anyhow it happened before the goods they'd ordered left the warehouse, and they got all the correct documentation with them.

Or if you correct a mistyping because the salesman sends a mail asking for it, but since you didn't notice it yourself, it counts as a mistake... And how many times the salesmen write I made a mistake, correct it. The customer receives a notification about those cases, too, as soon as I put the order in the system. Who's to blame then?

And so on, and so forth... It all reminds me of this fantastic and sad sad story from the pen of one of our most famous author, called The Tragedy of Man, and about the scene in the (maybe not so far) future when everyone lives in a phalanstery, and makes the exact same kind of products in the exact same kind of fashion, exactly as they are told. And when the re-incarnation of Michelangelo carves a nicer chair leg than he's supposed to, they punish him for it.

Actually, to me the future seems even worse. When all of us are worn to the last in our nerves, both physically and mentally, and there are no more cheaper countries to move these jobs to, then it will be completely automatized, and we'll become useless and die abandoned of our very selves. Cheers man.

The bird's song

I have wings on the left and on the right
I have also far extremes on both sides
And I can fly high up in the sky
But to drop a bomb, that wouldn't I

Yet you run like hell when I drop on you
Still you're running into your own doom
Blindfold and ignorant, hateful and arrogant
Instead do something else, something that really helps

talk to me

Jeez, I love so much writing, simply writing. Only to express myself. With no need to meet any expectations. It's so great not to write for any publishers, but to myself. And whoever reads it, and then if they feel something because of that, either good or bad, then it fulfilled another purpose, I guess.

And though I try my best to say things as clear as possible, I do it only because I want to be clear, first of all, to myself. I love language, no matter which one, as fragile as it is with its thousands rules we made up during thousands of years, our vague attempt to communicate the impossible - feelings, dreams, all the things we feel and the things they make us feel as a response.

People can be very funny when they try to blame misunderstandings on language barriers, and not high enough level of a certain knowledge. There are things in everyday life we won't ever be able to explain to each other exactly the way we perceive them. Because it's impossible without seeing each other's mind.

on the verge

I recall sitting on the window ledge of our fifth floor flat as a teenager. I dont think I wanted to jump. But I was wondering how it might have felt falling in reality. I guess I was falling emotionally. I didn't feel safe in a long while. So I might have gotten used to that condition not to worry about how it would be if I did jump.

Something that hits me now, after all these years, is that though plenty of people could see me from the five-story block on the opposite side, no-one called the police or the fire department. Anyhow, my Mom came home and asked me what I was doing there, and if I could close the window from the inside, as it was rather cold out there. I'm sure happy it was she who discovered me, and so there was no furhter ado about it.

What this memory makes me wonder about is that it is really the arrival of freedom that creates the vacuum. Because something was certainly pulling me down into the abyss. Was it too hard for me to comprehend independency, was it the fear of it, loneliness or something else? Maybe a wound I didn't yet know how to let bleed in a way so that I can survive it? I lost many of the closest people around me for different reasons by that time. And I'd seen many of them losing others.

It was no war time. Or rather the war was going on inside the society. Just like now. And one thing is for sure - when those people I knew back then decided to lose each other, they didn't do it out of curiosity. Like the many people who leave this country to go abroad and try their luck there, they certainly don't do it out of sheer wonder lust, like our prime minister believes.

our world view

I often got surprised by the way we think about the world and each other. Or to that those who were here before us. If they looked out of the caves, and thought there was something mightier out there, much bigger than them. Do you think they thought about each other as men and women? Certainly there were physical things easier done by men, so it was done by them.

Now that I think about our present time I feel nearly shocked that we had to get this far to discover we're discriminating each other by, for instance, putting women into another category that results in them receiving less salary, and even less chance to be who they really are as a person.

I mean it's one thing that technical development has always been much ahead of social achievements. Of course, those who have the money to buy or get something built, saw and will always see machines as much better investment than people. Machines don't talk back, don't argue, don't die. They can be repaired, and with a certain technology they can repair themselves. And then, if I may ask, what's the point of us being here at all?

But then again, thinking about different sexes as different species, or even subordinate, dependent classes capable of less things than the other, is just as surreal as to believe you'll find a different God by calling to him in different names or languages. Culture should never be about that.

are you an alien?

It's very funny and frightening at the same time, to see how people seem to be shocked, for instance, at work, when they discover another face of you. As if they didn't have many things inside of them, feelings, talents, thoughts. And as if all that wouldn't come out of them just the same in due time. That is, basically, when they get a trigger to surface, or for the exact opposite reason, in lack of impulses, or in such an atmosphere where all this is getting constantly suppressed.

Well, I have experienced this maybe more often, as I am still very honest and open, even now, near fifty, so I don't think it'll change. But still, as it takes time for me, just as for everyone, in a new environment, to get used to the conditions there, so it might shock people around me how I am when I'm myself without being cautious at all. And when I am taking back, I do that because experience taught me that so many are terribly afraid of being themselves, and when they see that other are, they put up such a high wall in front of them that it becomes completely impossible to co-operate normally like that.

So, when I, so to say, come out, even if I try to do that step by step - instead of simply giving myself fully, and right because of that it takes out a lot of energy of me, pretending to be someone else - I can see that those I am working, learning, doing whatever with, they are almost like they either can't believe it's me or who knows, they might just as well think I'm on drugs.

strange fascination

Everyone reminds me of you
but nobody takes after me
and no one is the like of you
to me they're the same, it seems

the end

The question is not when the end will come and what will happen. We all know what the end means. The question is how many of us feel sorrow for it. That we let it go in its entirety. That no-one will ever see it again as it is. Not for millenia. Or millions of years. Or ever again.

Though I'm a funny person, I've been often asked why do I always look so sad. And I was surprised when I heard that question for the first few times. But then I realized that I'd probably understoood it as a mere child, by looking at the world as it is. That is, as we make it.

The end is here. It's been here ever since the beginning. The real question is if it is worth to destroy it. Destroy each other. With our arrogance and selfishness that we let infiltrate our every act and thought. Instead we could give up useless things, and take care of each other, of this world.

Now I know it was not my own death I couldn't comprehend when it first came to me. But no longer being part of all this. So I hope ever since I'm not the only one who feels it's worth to make it worth. It's only up to us. Every word, each and every minute of it.

Lost time

We're living in times lost,
not only because we're lost in it,
but especially, as no matter when we live,
it's wasted time to go against time itself;
Both to try to change it from as it happened,
or pretend things didn't occur the way they did.

Instead we can face and accept time,
by realizing that it's gone for good,
by understanding that it can't be wasted;
As it won't let us, its consumers, change it,
but it leaves its mark on us, as parts of it.

And if we're able and willing to take that in,
then we can really go with it and live it,
but either way, it's happening;
It can't be stopped and it can't be forged,
or if we try, then we waste our lives, not time.

Ghost in the machine

You can't use the living to support machinery,
because one's organic, and the other's mechanic
And this latter's incapable of change and interaction,
so the idea's dead before it becomes an action.

(Everything that happens in machines is done by us.)

Spider and I

Would it be easier to live as a small spider?
Someone steps on you and you die right there
And as a human, you think you live forever?
Someone else decides so, and you leave for the better

If language were liquid

Look behind language, and see it as a tool
what is then grammar? we use it as a rule
Literature tells us about all that's going on
and what is a poem, if not a written song?

In each and every song history, culture, and dance,
a single rhythm we nurture, a mistery full of trance
It's the music of life that we shared a million years,
cave paintings to writing heard as syllables in ears

what's wrong with them?

I don't know if you've ever bought food at such fast food places where you come out of the subway. I've done it regularly for a while, but stopped as the quality is really junk, and mostly I didn't feel like going back to experience such a fantastic nice hospitality. But this week, instead of making sandwiches or something else at home for next morning, I've often stopped by again at one or another of these on my way to work.

Well, I have to say that the level of service is just as shitty as the food they're selling. In a supermarket when I went to pay at the cashier, not that they didn't say hello, but didn't even look at me, just went on talking to each other. At another place they served someone else first, who jumped in front of me in the queue, and started to say "two cups with sugar". I continued to say "and me, I'll have one with milk, no sugar, please", but the bugger got his first, anyhow.

And this morning the brickhead whom I actually did greet, just kept on repeating Good morning, instead of giving me what I asked for, while staring at me angrily. Anyhow, I just finished to list what I wanted, and when she quipped a "no coffee" for my request, obviously now having completely lost any hope that she can squeeze another good morning out of me, I just confirmed that yes, I had said that if she'd only listened.

I also made other not so nice remarks, sometimes in their faces, or like they, pretending that I was not around, just into the air, which I wouldn't quote here, as they only served to let out my slight frustration over such a zilch serving, and that with an experience of customer service over a decade or two.

But honestly what I hate most is that they see someone like me, and - I know that most of them - take me for an easy target by sight, and they get even embarrased when I open my mouth back at them. What I just don't see is why it's easier to be an asshole with someone who didn't even hurt you, and you get paid to work there, and he just asked for something you are supposed to sell.

Now I put my question in the title in a slightly different way: what's not wrong with them? They've been brought up like that, to become a backboneless, shitty twit who tries to give out their frustration on the first person they think with their tiny little brain will take it without a word. Well, my humble opinion, like I also explained that to the above mentioned lady is that they shouldn't work at such a place, if they can't even adjust themselves to the basic requirements of social life.

And I just add it here that I don't agree with that so-called social life at all, as I think it's all mere pretence, if it doesn't come naturally. But if I hold myself to its made up norms then I'd except the others to do so, too. Well, that's all folks, and you have a lovely weekend.

chance meeting with a nationalist

A few days ago I noticed a guy with a white rat on his arm from the tram. I saw the man sitting next to me laughing, and since I felt the same way, I reacted similarly. But then, to my surprise, he started a rather long monologue about those silly folk who spread disease with such animals which was so typical exactly here, and he would really do something against it. For which I said I saw someone with a rat like that in Berlin back about twenty years ago, and they meant no harm. Actually, I visited a colleague just a few days ago, whose daughter kept a white rat as a pet.

But as they say in one of my favorite books "Resistance is useless", and he went on with how the rats traveling onboard sailboats carried the pest, and all that horror to other worlds. Right after that he started to lament about those immigrants who set fire to Catholic churches, and somehow ended up with black people marrying our women, also pointing out because womenfolk have more choice?...

And then he mentioned that he's been to Cuba, and how you have to go and drop your shit behind the house, and that they walk the streets in trash up to their knees... which is a bit hard for me to believe. Anyhow, I pointed out that right there where we were traveling in the inner city there was a lot of trash and even shit dropped.

However he really wanted to prove his point and said those folks don't even see a doctor, and then come here as migrants, and spread all possible plagues. For which I really had to answer that even though I pay social security, my personal experiences with the so-called professional health workers left more serious consequences behind than my original problems I'd visited them in hope to receive help.

I also tried to explain to him that minorities who are descendants of people who were forced to leave their homes and serve as slaves in countries like France, or in the colonies what their countries were diminished to, are only waking up now from a long lasting nightmare, and as still not given much chance for integration, express their frustration in different, and for the "local population" not so favorable ways, is only a balancing action in long-term history.

Then he, eyes open wide, only asked "Why is this all happening right now?". Which sounded yes, just the same as "Why me, blah-blah-blah...." So, I simply said that with global issues it makes sense that it takes some time before it all finds a way to any kind of even trying to find a way for a solution. And it won't necessarily be any better than the actions taken back when it all started. Such is life.

Uncover our heads and reveal our souls

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jWFb5z3kUSQ

< 3

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Today is the last day that I'm using words

Jesus Christ saved me here, and support our church by donating so you get a free brochure there.

When I think about all the references in the Bible about people who use God's words and his son's name for their own benefit, I feel somewhat surprised that in this congregation I was a member of, and that others would prefer to call a sect since the number of those baptized there didn't reach for instance that of the Catholic church, they saw as one of the biggest problems things like how you express yourself, and how you live and experience your christianity.

I mean nearly everything was wrong, from how you looked, and your way of moving your head to the words you picked to tell something. As if being christian means serial products. You couldn't be tired, as if God himself wouldn't rest on the seventh day, only we're not him, are we. Or are we supposed to compare ourselves to him? Just a thought...

Anyhow, try to forget, I'll never explain again.

I feel

in the middle of the day
cloud shadow covers the doorway
for a moment I thought it was you there
and believed the impossible

and every time I see a tree torn
I feel so endlessly sad
and they amaze me all the time
when I look at them grow tall and wide

and when I hear the crow cawing
I feel like singing with him
and the clouds, the mighty clouds,
belying gravity, they run through the heavy sky

social order

Why isn't our endless robotic computer job automatized? Don't you think it could have been done many decades ago, as some processes are actually running without or with very little human intervention?

Well, it's much easier to keep people under control this way, also by ways of turning us against each other. And do you think it's done by superintelligent machines, or even intelligent people? No, it's just a method that's been used for thousand and thousand of years.

Anyone who thinks socialism held people captive, giving them a job, a place to live, an just enough money from month to month, so they could survive, is blind to the very fact that the capitalistic system is basically the same, only with much worse social network and care. And as a matter of fact, no matter what you call it feudalism, slavery, in the end it's all the same - control.

I see it day by day how people push each other on the train, at the station, in a queue, or in jobs and other parts of life, only not in a physical way. And they could kill each other, as soon as they're told it was war-time, and they needed to save the country, basically themselves. No matter who the enemy was. I never thought Orwell wrote 1984 only about the world war, and the Sowiets.

We are killing each other every day, every way we can. Some of us are more clever at it, some still believe in the idea of live and let live...

The unmovable chair or an update on cultural differences

This has been long overdue, and on my mind ever since I started to work for multinational companies and met people from all over the world. Some of them are really nice, and some have surprising theories about what and why we here, in this country should or should not do. How come we are urged to learn their backgrounds, while they who have not grown up and lived here, so often tell us what and why is wrong here? Why is it that they don't even want to listen to us? Instead they tell us what's wrong with our attitude, or with the previous government we had. Guess, because it was a socialist party?

And then there is them who escaped from here. From what? What if everyone did so? Why we who stayed here, that is our parents and grandparents did so, cannot be ourselves? Surely, if you don't run away, then everything that happens where you are, will leave its mark on you. So did the same happen with them in other countries, so now they talk not only for themselves, but for those governments and that system. Why wouldn't I then if I find it true? Why should I change my mind?

It's always been them who 'had' to flee for some reason and then came back to visit or stay after the so-called change of system, who could surprise me most by telling how bad it's been here and how good it is now with no socialism and dictatorship. And if they think socialism effected our country so badly, why did they come back? Why do they never talk about how badly the nazis effected our nation, or to that, all people?

How could they know how it's been here? From news that represented the interests of countries that were not on this side of the iron curtain, the exact same half lies-half truths we heard here? They heard and they knew what they were told, and what they wanted to. Like all of us, true. However, mindless propaganda, superficial news and the like of it, they all come from the same source where those weapons, and if you fall for them without thinking then you reach the same effect as if you used those guns and bombs.

Some of my grandparents, like many of their generation were almost, or actually killed. Also many Jews who survived thought that it was best for them to move to Israel. But there they had to face new and almost constant wars. And at the same time be blamed again, like by the nazis for living, and now for fighting for their lives.

Because the terrorist groups who act as the government of some of their neighboring countries get weaponry from other superpowers as them. Because this endless, biggest money laundry is what politics is really about. You can't judge a nation by its government, though they are elected by them.

I wonder if in reflection of the Syrian war anyone thinks of whether those who make their own folks flee from there, are also responsible for bombing Israel together with similar organizations in Ghaza. Only you never hear that the Israelis should be saved, like it was a rare exception during World War 2. Instead they're held responsible for defending their people by an army that's put in front of the civilians, unlike those terrorists who use them as a living shield. But nobody talks about this in the news... Does anyone care?

It's always been easier to attack minorities. What's the chance they'll fight back? And if they do, they can still be held responsible for it. Reminds me of a court case where the owner of the apartment who attempted to defend himself against the thief that even attacked him, was sentenced for offending that. Could it be that the laws are wrong? And who writes them?
It's like a chair that you can't move, and it's the only place where you can sit. You are given only one chance, take it or not. You can't choose where you're born, your heritage, your genes.

My mother's father was a socialist or better to say communist in the true meaning of the word. He'd share everything with the other people in that little village, even though he had a huge family to support. Yet when the so-called revolution came in 1956 these people gave him up. Had not the Sowiets arrive the next mornig, he would have been executed with all members of his family. And yet afterwards he'd not given up or hurt anyone. He went on with his life, and helped when he could, anyone who asked for it.

My father's mother who survived the Holocaust, mentioned friendly Austrian soldiers who helped her and my father when they could escape from the death-camp, because the Sowiets were getting near, so the Germans left.

The very same thing has so many aspects, that in my opinion, no matter how much our country's heritage and our family marks the way we think and see things, we are first of all personalities, and so we choose ourselves how we think and how we communicate our thoughts.

to be (in the way)

You can be in the way in many different ways beside simply standing in the doorway, and so blocking it.

For instance, you can pretend you're going somewhere in the middle of the crowd that's trying to reach the train. But instead you're just stepping around, thus not letting those behind you move on. This is actually a great way to get anyone out of their minds.

Then you can be in the way as the acting government that stole everything from those who'd voted for it, and continues to lie, cheat and steal, and also changes the laws so that it cannot be downvoted anymore.

But as a matter of fact, you can also feel that you're in the way, when you just don't seem to fit in, what's more, you don't even want to, because what you see is absolutely not what you want.

This was written on a sour day.

Don't be light

You open your eyes, and look up at a station on the tube,
wondering if you see daylight breaking on the wall
Then you realize it's just a lighter shade of concrete,
so you turn in again, as the train rumbles along

just a short update on the garbage piles on the corridor story

A couple of weeks back we received a newsletter from the representative of the house that says it is dangerous and forbidden to keep garbage in the common areas.
Now the caretaker who collects trash from the whole block in front of their door she's in constant contact with the representative, you understand? I don't...

It reminds me of this Twilight Zone story where the examination for the pupils found to be too intelligent also means execution... And honestly to me it doesn't even sound scary, but only a natural consequence of our so-called (d)evolution.

Are you crazy?

No, this is not about Mr. Newton, neither has anything to do with the lamentation on who can be actually considered as such in Delany's book Dhalgren.

I saw a movie last night where a woman and a man lay in bed still wearing their clothes, and the woman asks the man whether he's ever been in love before. When he says no, the woman asks if he's gay.

I could ask you if this was a cliché, because I don't want to sound serious and ask if this would be the only explanation for not being in love... So, this was a comedy, but still my question is to them who made it: Are you crazy?

Look at June, look at July

Have you noticed the berries
they fall in a pattern,
Like toys for the fairies
it couldn't be better

So you don't step on them
if you take up a pace,
Suppose there are berries
where you go, in that place

But the bark torn off trees
by the rain and the wind,
Cracks under your feet
in a rhythm to win

So you refill your bottle
from a spring on the road,
And while chasing a shuttle
try your life to re-load

After the rain

When I saw the light
of that lamp post blinking,
After this restless night
it made me thinking

I feel like that often
showing, then hiding,
So my heart can soften -
a chance for surviving

Like that light hides behind
the leaves of a tree moving,
Or I'd rather be tree to find
certainty in all things

This morning

In this dream that I had
I was holding someone's hand,
So that I could stand
on a train, bus or a tram

And he didn't mind at all
he held mine tight and stood tall,
And there were others hanging on
how many lives we can support

I remember how grateful I felt
for that helping hand that I held,
Of the others I didn't feel blue
and when I woke up, I knew it was you

the time of your life

It's a bit hard to believe that Bowie only covered his eyes (at least on his physical body) in his last two video clips, because he didn't want to see death coming for him. In Lazarus he even said that he'd be free like that bluebird. So why would he not look forward to it?

I believe, it was all the things around him, and around all of us, that he closed his eyes on. Instead he was focusing on what was coming. And I don't mean all his death wish, and the end of the world kind of lyrics from before, at all.

That makes me remember again that night when I woke up as a child, and suddenly I was thinking that one day I shall die, and there's nothing I can do about it. And I was just sitting in my bed, in the dark, wondering about the meaning of it all. Is there a meaning to it, after all?

from "A Year with swollen appendices" by Brian Eno

the audio file
It's an unusual day
Sometimes it's winter and sometimes it's summer
There are crocuses

Even within half an hour the seasons change and change about
(?) storks and the pom-pom trees
There are crocuses
They are early
This is confusing for dogs

Between yellowing trees big gulls slide down the bright air
Shadowed by newspapers and peeling among dry leaves
Blank words tumble out of context
...  ...

No account
All others
Universal
Heartache
They are early
All the energy
Repeat

Bellona, the recombinant city or...

...is it your mind being constantly re-arranged by your ever changing environment? Just like one of my fav quotes says 'It is not that I have no past. Rather, it continually fragments on the terrible and vivid ephemera of now.'

I've started again this 800-page sci-fi book, Dhalgren written by Samuel R. Delany. It's been years since I last read it, and I remember I found it both difficult and awesome at the same time. Anyhow, I love it to bits and pieces. Here's some more of what makes feel like that:

'Western independence? He had hitched this sector of country enough to decide it was all manic terror.'
'All you know I know: careening astronauts and bank clerks glancing at the clock before lunch... how coffee tastes after you've hold it in your mouth, cold, a whole minute.'

By the way, the book stood behind some others on a shelf, and I 'by coincidence' found it there, after I'd read a story from Neil Gaiman about a man lost in the city's dream he's been living in, and when finally having found a chance to escape back to reality (?) he flees to a faraway place, terrified by the thought what if the cities wake up one day.

sunglasses at dawn

When you take a ride
on the early train,
You can try to hide
from the bright sunray

But if you close your eyes
there's a caleidoscope,
Of colours and lights
like your dreams untold

They change as fast
as the weather last night,
There's nothing to last
so you better don't fight

Just lean back and watch
how life itself's moving,
Then reach out and touch
the whole world's a movie

Ambjørsen on dreams

It was very interesting to read about dream sequences from one of my favorite Norwegian authors, right after I'd started to get back to this topic here. Another so-called synchronicity, isn't it?

In one of his short stories the protagonist visits his hometown after many years. This makes him realize that in most of his dreams he has been doing so for a long while. But not in the first years after having moved to another place.

However as he got older, he experienced such memories to come back from his childhood nearly every night. Not only about places, but people he grew up, and went to school with. And so came back the feelings he had towards them, mixed with his everyday life experiences and feelings.

And so he wonders, if he plays a role in their dreamlife. Has he done or said anything that makes them think about him? Though they no longer know each other.

This brought up a lot of memories in me. And though it worked out for me in a different way, but the sequences, it's something really interesting, and the reason behind it all. Are you so busy in a new life that you don't have time for memories, not even in your dreams? Or you simply don't need them, or rather you don't think you do?

the big wheel

I wanted to write this down a couple of weeks ago or so, as it seemed much more important when it hit me than anything else. And definitely more vital than anything else I'm talking about here, for sure. All the little everyday struggles, though I'm trying to capture them as part of something bigger. And so give them more meaning, as I'm still after that. Trying to makes sense of it all. And how all that we create, and all that we are effects us and others in respond.

What I'm talking about is this scene towards the end of Bowie's last video clip. He's sitting at his desk, and scribbling something so desperately as if his life was up to it. And indeed. Or maybe the meaning of it all. Something you can help, at least try and grab. Life you can't. Not any longer than it lasts.

And I wondered whether it is the same force that drives us to do anything that is not necessary, as Eno put it. That is all things we don't need to do to survive. But don't we? I feel like I'd long given up, had I stopped to use my brains. It's killing me anyhow, just to see the way the world we're making goes surely towards a total annihilization of creativity, and personality. Whatever it takes for you to be you, and for me to be this person who's saying all this.

To me it seemed that he, Bowie, was reflecting, maybe for the very last time, on these things. Is it why I write or draw, or put together music mixes - to leave a trace behind me, and thus survive? Forever? Or is it only done for myself? So I can go on with my life as long as it lasts. That is always, while I'm still here. With other words - for ever. So what's the difference once you're gone?

dreams written, forgotten, remembered

Not so long ago I mentioned to a dear friend all my dreams where I was standing in front of the mailboxes back in the house in my home town. It seems like I had countless of these memories turned into dreams. I was maniacally searching for letters in our box, but often even in others', too. Sometimes I found plenty, they were just pouring out of the box, and I couldn't hold them. Then on other occasions there was nothing there. I was even asking the neigbours who lived on the ground floor, if they knew where my post went, and why I didn't get any.

At least once while I was standing there I got chased down to the basement. The door that led there was right next to the mailboxes, under the stairs. I've never went down there in real life, as it's been closed all the time, and even the door handle was missing. But I remember that I was trying to get out of the deep water that gathered inside there. Very likely I recalled a big downfall from my childhood when I overheard some people saying that even that place was flooded. Then later in my dream, or maybe in another one, I was outside, and hiding there, in front of that door, from someone running down the stairs.

Now that I wrote that down, I can recall that I often had dreams where I was standing on the top floor, in front of our flat. Then hearing someone coming upstairs, I headed up to the roof exit, and tried to hide there, holding my breath. Funny that it all came back now. It's a strange thing memory, and then thoughts and dreams playing their games together. Often there was an extra floor with a gallery full of big, tropical plants up there. That is in my dreams. I guess, only to make this hide-and-seek game even more interesting.

And so I suddenly had a flashback. In another one of these nightmares I was riding a bycicle, which I can't in reality, though I've tried to learn it several times. It felt like flying, and I enjoyed this kind of freedom a lot. Then I came to that square with the horrible statue of a skeleton man hanging on a tree. This was a real place that I often crossed on my way home from school. As I was circling round that little elevation with the statue on top of it, I noticed a man in hoods approaching me. I tried to get out of his way, but he seemed to cross mine all the time, so that I could only avoid the crash at the last second. Then I understood that I was being hunted by him, and knew if I was caught, it meant certain death.

all the world's a stage

When was thinking 'Thank God, it's Friday afternoon!', on my way home, and taking a lovely sauna on the tube, I just had to realize that life still had some surprises for me. It happened when we stopped at the biggest junction, and the doors were kept open for a little longer.

First it was just a distant noise, then it became a definite shouting. So I got a bit worried that someone might got hurt. Finally I had to realize that some folk had a rather nasty argument going on. And as they came up to the very door that I was standing by, I could actually hear the outcome of it all.

It went like this:
- Fuck off, fucking foreigners!!
- You fuck off!
- Fuck you, FAGGOT!!
- Fuck YOU!

So, there was no real danger, apart from the usual mindless xenophobia, homophobia, and so on. What surprised me, the guy who was trying to send the tourists back home, was dressed like a worker on a construction site. Still, he had pretty good pronunciation skills, and well, not a beginners' dictionary either.

There was another guy standing opposite to me, reading a book in English. He also looked up from it, wondering at the hassle, but I couldn't read any appreciation from his expression. He might have had other criteria to judge by. However, I don't think it could have been played any better, were we at a theater.

cry baby

We have a saying in Hungarian that goes 'If stupidity would hurt, s/he'd scream'. Well, maybe there's the key to my (even for me) surprising, sudden nervous breakdown last week, after all the kerfuffle with only one day off...

Unfortunately I broke into tears with all the stress, in front of a person about whom now I know that I shouldn't trust. Rest assured she spread the word all around the office, and then for about a week was avoiding me at all cost, which of course, only made it all more suspicious when I heard back unmistakable comments...

Now, I believe this saying can also go for the likes of me, who are (according to the fantastic standards of present days) too sensitive, something like 'When others' stupidity hurts, it would make even you cry'.

why's a patient called a patient?

Well, my fellow passengers on this journey called life, today I had an appointment to get my kidney stone crushed by ultrasound. I got to show up by nine o'clock which I did, and also get plenty of water with me, which I also did. I was slightly shocked by the fact that they couldn't provide drinking water in a health center. But anyhow, I remembered that there was a little shop on the opposite corner, so I planned to buy it there. Also some food, as I wasn't supposed to eat before the operation took place.

Now, the shop wasn't there anymore, so I had to go back some corners to another one, and do the shopping there. Still I turned up in good time, and asked to make sure if I only had to wait and would be called by name. After another hour I walked up to the reception again to double check if I was at the right place. I was told not to worry, and why they'd already told me wait.

And I'll be darned if they didn't call for me in only yet another hour's time, and we were done and ready. It's another thing that I still had to chase the assistents and the doctor for another two hours, just to get my papers, and a time for a check-up. But then it was probably for the best, as they told me beforehand, I should stay after the op for a while, to see if there was some result. No, not yet.

Maybe the funniest part I left out for the first time I published this, was when the nurse came in just as I was sitting up on the bed, and asked me 'And who are you?' I felt that it was now getting really somewhat like a comedy, so tried an answer fit to the situation, and said 'Just a patient.' Then she might have got herself a bit together, realizing that to ask this from someone who's just gone through an op, is a bit weird. So she said, now with a little smile on her face 'I didn't mean it like that. What's your name?'. Turned out she was responsible for these kind of ops, but the other assistants forgot to tell her I was already on the bed.

Unless I consider that I got pretty tired of all the fuss that took to get me on the bed, and out of the place. I saw a lot of folks there, all of them totally confused, both patients and staff. I wonder if the doc printed out one paper for me next door to the surgery room, and sent me up two floors to get the rest - that he'd just typed in there, while asking me about possible causes and history - out of tiredness or being a bit mixed up, or just to get me going, and so help to get out of me that had to come out.

But after all is done and said, I found everyone and they were done with me, though on the papers there's another doc's name on the stamp, as mine couldn't find his. Let's just hope the rest goes on all natural and without further help, so no more cuts will be needed. Somehow I feel that I had more than enough of all that, from my childhood through my adolescence up to the recent years. After all, why's a patient called a patient...

P.S. Yesterday I read about a doctor who got a call from a friend that pissed blood... Today I had another book with me, but there also mentioned the protagonist, a man in his eighties something about his urinating issues. Then I came home and found this on the main google page...

air conditioning or conditioning?

No, this is not my usual dilemma whether I dare to spend a lot of money on one of these kits installed at home, or continue boiling in my skin now as the summer heatwaves are coming. It's the same old story at work where we are at least a hundred person in the same wing (not even the whole floor) sharing the same air. There, in the office we do have air-conditioners, but we don't use them...

To get to work I take a suburb train (from the fifties) with no air-conditioning, then the longest underground (also from about the fifties) with no air-conditioning. So, even though I take a shower in the morning before I leave home, I might as well take another one when I arrive at the office.

Instead, since we don't turn on the air-con there, I sweat for another hour, while trying to focus on my work, and adjust to the airless, humid heat. And why don't we use it? Simply because some sit under the airholes where the cold air blows off of the system, and they freeze or even develop a cold. 

And when you suffocate or freeze, or both only at different places on the same floor, then you start to wonder:
- are they experimenting with the system,
- are they experimenting with us,
- is it the system experimenting with us,
- who is it experimenting with our systems,
-is there a system in it, at all?

It wouldn't be that difficult to put all the thermostats on the floor on a low-level fan speed with an ideal temperature, then maybe lock them so it couldn't be changed all the time. But then I remember how it was when they did that, and also removed all the window handles at another place I worked at.  Actually it was my first multi-job, and well, to put it mildly, it wasn't quite a humane solution.

Here at least, we have a little committee that used to go around on the floor at regular intervals. They check the thermostats, sometimes set something on them. Then it usually becomes even worse, but sometimes they succeed to help for a while. Today they even asked some of us how satisfied we were with the system. I can foresee an email sent around with voting buttons...

Well, anyhow, as far as I can remember, everywhere I worked at,  this was an issue with no solution.
So, I guess I just have to dress accordingly, as they cannot expect us to boil in the office, and work like that, or can they?

sometimes, it takes a lie to kill a lie

I crossed the border, and so I could see there was none
only in my mind, and it was there that I understood it all,
Then I came back here, that we call a life and the world
and so I made a change, based on a decision in return

it shines when it shines

I should write more about dreams again. After all that's how this blog started. And sometimes (or always, I risk to say) there's so much more to it than tedious everyday life thingies. But also, like that thing I saw when I awoke from the nightmare full of witches, dreams carry on in this waking world. At least their effects...

Many many years ago - I was not yet a teenager, but entered that troubled period - I woke up once, in the middle of the night, and just knew that I would die one day, and that there was nothing I could do about it. And though I can't recall what - if - I dreamt, but I still have some vague memories about not being able to accept or reject the truth of it.  I felt so infinitely numb, as it just hurt too much to feel the pain, or because I simply couldn't comprehend what it meant to leave forever?

Then there was this daymare in the kindergarten when I suddenly saw everyone very much unlike humans. Though, since I was but a mere kid, I couldn't explain what happened to me, so I was just screaming on top of my voice 'Devils! Devils!'. And when the nanny took me up, and was trying to console me, I felt even more helpless and terrified, because she looked the same. Even after having closed and opened my eyes again and again, I saw these strange creatures instead of the people who were there only a few minutes ago.

I wonder where these sights came from? Dreams, other dimensions, or is it just a different way to see things? Some say it's a gift, but certainly scary for a child. And even for a grown-up who's unaware of what it is.

P.S. Yes, I knew this was something I'd mentioned before, and then it's a good thing I'm trying to keep track of it, as now I also might have a clue why I'm doing it: Yesterday was Monday

'that goddamn social life, it's torture dressed as fun'

It's a very strange experience when you realize what's behind all the smile you gave in to. And even though that's how you see the people you spend so much time with, as they really are, for some strange reason - I wonder if they understand why - there's no place for honest talk there.

I guess some are raised like that, they can talk about all the useless nuances, and they make a great interior designer, for instance. But in their family it was not allowed to talk about the important things that can - and should - change your life. So, they became afraid of reality, and of discussing it.

Though, as I see it in my experience, that's a veil you put up not only to protect yourself, but also to cut off all kind of communication, and any chance to understand others. Much like you just don't care; you say your part, and that's it. Then it becomes a social theater, a talk show.

I don't know, it might have been also like a painful thing for some when they tried to be straightforward, so they gave up on that habit. As for me, it always hurts, because I make myself vulnerable by doing so, but it's also important that I let others see what I have on my mind. Otherwise it's impossible to understand each other.

And if some decide to make fun of other's being true, and at the same time they just roll their eyes when you ask them why do they think that by making half-loud comments they can help anything, instead of sitting down, and listening to and talking with each other, well, no-one else can help you, if you don't let it happen. Good luck with a real life, and real friends you make this way.

on so-called social media

Believe me when I say it, it's a great feeling when you make up your mind and write to your friends, then after a while they answer to you. Unless you simply decide to talk. Technically it's possible, suppose you have the equipment.

I don't say that forums, blogs (oops!) and other kind of open virtual places are not good. Personally, I prefer one-to-one communication. Especially with people we've been knowing each other for a while. It makes it real, and well, yes, personal.

At such forums as for instance, facebook, I miss this honest and to-the-point quality. To me it's like small talk. Then I rather use my time for taking care of special connections.

I don't only mean that these days any real friendships became like something rare and precious. I think they've always been like that. That's the point. No use in pretending.

we can make it harder

No, I'm not talking sex, but daily life made more difficult by and for each other. You know, colleagues, neighbours, whoever, whenever have the chance. It's still a mistery for me after nearly fifty years, why is making drama and big theater out of nothing is easier for some then listening to what others say, and clear communication.

But the way I see it, these creatures are just keen on the game, and even if subconsciuosly - if that's possible - but are looking for an easy target to play their game out on them. Then they can lean back, smile, and pretend as if nothing happened, maybe even showing that they excuse you for them not being quite in their right mind...?

Yes, I do wonder how much such people are actually aware of the full potential of their insanity, their deranged reality and personality. Or if they really only play a game. But then again, that doesn't mean they're not affected by it, on the contrary. How can their victims be mad for them who start the whole game?

steal a kiss

Where I get off the suburb train, and try to make my way out through a rather narrow walkway, there are always at least half-a-dozen folks standing there, handing out newspapers for free, with equally valuable content. It's the same thing at the entrance to the underground train, once again.

Then this morning, as I successfully passed through the most difficult part, I caught sight of a girl, who arrived on the same train, and went up to a guy waiting there, to share a passionate kiss with him.

So I immediately got an idea that probably sounds strange, at least for the first time. What if these people who stand there, instead of trying to get rid of some useless paper, could be kissed. Suppose you found them attractive enough for some reason. Just a thought...

any day now

I remember how excited it made me feel when I read in a book about near future possible inventions, about such glasses you can surf the net with, and basically chat, talk, and do all you can now on a laptop, tab or a smart phone.

And you can imagine my surprise, when a month ago or so, I heard it on the radio that they've actually come up with contact lenses that can do this, if you have a mobile phone in close vicinity, like in your pocket. That all happened very fast, considering that the author of this book put things on a time scale spreading through a hundred years from now.

The other news I heard that day was a bit less of a discovery, but more like a 'solution' for airline companies. Namely that they want to start selling double seats for big passangers, and standing tickets to use up all the possible space on board.

Then a week ago, I heard it from a friend that cheap airlines have already started, at least announcing, to introduce such changes on their flights.
Well, I can understand their wish to sort out placing issues, but then I much prefer such sleeping capsules that they used in this movie The 5th Element. What do you know...?

dog-eat-dog world

Ha! Can you imagine a little guy wearing a litte fish eaten by big fish eaten by even bigger fish t-shirt? And it says it all. Must be a reason why that was put in front of my eyes, don't you think so?

cultural differences

It's great that you can meet people from other countries also at the many multinational companies. It's really interesting to hear their stories, why they chose to come here, where they've been, and it's good to have a chance to practice their mother tongue with them.

Though sometimes it seems the only thing these people can offer here is their language skills, which honestly is not that much, when you learn it as a child while growing up. At one of my jobs my boss who didn't speak the language we used to support our customer, and had no experience either in the job or as a boss, used to question my language skills repeatedly, without any reason he could give to do so.

After about a year of growing chaos, that was also mostly up to this bosses unreliable and irresponsible way of being a leader of our team, I decided to leave.  I could have given them the reason which was also true, namely that I left for a new life in another country. But am I really sorry for not having done so, but instead honestly telling about how the chaos and lack of support effected me in my work? Especially when this boss is still there, but my team members are all gone by now. You wonder why...

And when there was a boss who had both the language skills, and the professional experience, and also as a boss - and that meant he was really listening to us, and trying to help - he was switched to a youngster who was a native speaker, but failed some basic tests necessary for his previous job, and therefore had been fired from it.

I mentioned it, when I gave my notice, that only because that guy can speak his own language fluently,  he should not boss around, instead he should take his share of the work like everyone else was doing it.  When I asked that guy who he thought he was, when he talked in a rather unacceptable way with me, a girl who came from the same country as him, told him very fast in their own language that he should keep his superiority (sic!). But right after that she told me how sorry she was about what I experienced... After this he was given the leadership. Fortunately I'd left by then.

I can't call this an issue of cultural differences, no matter how hard many at such global firms try to convince people about it. It's simply an issue of using people, and abusing them. That's all.

Value's in dreams, boy!

One of the big advantages of being paranoid is that you see things where others don't. It can be frightening sometimes, but also wonderful when you feel there's such a synchronicity to the world. And then again what is paranoid? Who said the world isn't full of "invisible" wonders, even from a scientific point of view. And it's built on synchronicity, otherwise it couldn't exist.

I've read one of the Sandman stories again the other day, in which the protagonist recalls a dream he had as a child. He was trapped in a house full of witches, so he climbed up on the roof, but then was casted down by it. And ever since then he had a fear of heights and falling.

Oddly enough, the first dream I can remember is also about being surrounded by witches. I can still tell they were really terrible ones. I woke screaming, not so much because of the dream, but the huge, white head with empty eyes, like a Roman statue, staring at me from my bedroom door. Even after my Mom came in to comfort me, and I have shut and opened my eyes several times.

Back in that story they mention three options in case you have a dream where you fall from heights: 1) You die as you hit the ground. 2) You wake yourself. 3) You fly.
I used to fly without noticing it, just walking and suddenly finding I'm high above all. Sometimes I start to come down against my will, and folks or dogs jumping up can nearly catch me .

But I remember a dream, maybe the first one I was flying in, where I was walking home in our street. As I was getting closer to our door, I realized that I was already at the same level where we lived on the fifth floor. But doing so, I also started to fall, and before I hit the ground with my back, I woke. Not to reality though, instead to a kind of interval, and probably phased into another dream as usually. Surprisingly, the guy in this story also wakes himself to a dark, in-between place in dream, to escape from the witches.

In other dreams I often levitated to our balcony on the fifth floor, to look in through the windows, or actually get into the flat like that, even in the recent years.

Now, the next day I've read another story, and strange as it sounds, the conclusion was that things can seem very different in another dimension. As it happened, the protagonist there could catch sight of an example of this. He saw, exactly like I did as a child, when I woke up from my witch dream, a huge head watching him.

the miracle

I saw a girl from the window. She went down the little alley where they had cut off all those wonderful, huge trees. And only then planted some small ones in their places.

She stopped by one of them, and I wasn't quite sure if I saw it right, but she seemed to touch the stem of it, so suddenly and gently. Then she continued to click on her smart phone, but stayed right there by the young tree.

I got so touched and excited, nearly delirious, that I was hanging on, awaiting if she'd reach out again. For a moment I was thinking, maybe they came up with an app to send samples of things you had physical contact with. Actually, I'm almost sure they did.

After what seemed an eternity, the girl touched the tree again, and when she pulled her hand back, as if stroking the bark, I could swear she kissed her palm. This seemed even stranger, for she was still typing, and holding her eyes on the screen of her mobile as she went on.

But then this felt like the highlight of the day. Now I thought this was a message to me, because I looked out of the window exactly then. Now I imagined a world where we all smile at each other, and my heart felt young once again.

on the institution of radio

I had a shocking flashforward about the host announcing another commercial, right after the news, and then getting back to the listeners to offer more commercial followed by some other useless pile of information, and going on like that the whole day long.
Mind you the channel still might have a name that refers to music.
Except that no-one knows why any longer.
As a matter of fact, nobody wonders anymore.

Hello, and this is Write a haiku each day,
especially if you have a silent lunch break
With nobody to talk to, and nothing to say,
when you can think a bit, while eating your stake

The smell of the wooden floor, the noise of nothing,
while you're idling away in the distant humming
Seriously, let's go out, have a drink!
Instead of using up more digital ink

Breakthrough of the mind

I saw a dragonfly today,
it was trying to get free
It crashed against the windowpane,
because that it couldn't see

But the other side, the world,
it saw as clear as day 
so it tried, even if it hurt
for knowledge numbs the pain

'Their imaginations were flywheels on the ramshackle machinery of the awful truth.'

Just last night we talked about old stuff with my boyfriend, and he told me a story about their knitting classes in primary school. Everyone did a little patch to a given size, then they sew together all the pieces that the class made into one blanket, and gave it away to children in poorer countries.

The only problem with the piece he made was that it wasn't the good shape, that is, a square. So he could keep it to himself. He's not that good at making things to measure. And I guess, that's one of the reasons why I love him. This also means that he's full of surprises. Another reason. Well, this is all thinking backwards, these are not the real reasons. Are there reasons in love?

Anyhow, this morning while slumbering away on the subway, after having myself successfully assembled into a suddenly freed gap on the seats, I was having a nightmare about a society of people with the exact same shaped and sized heads which fit together perfectly, and where I would definitely not have a single chance to fit in.