A bit of death, a lot of love

The question "are you afraid of death?" inevitably arises in conversation. I guess people ask about death in the pursue of comforting emotions. We all are familiar with the concept, but we never get to ask one that actually experienced it. I am not aiming for a sad post, I just read the most beautiful and sad poem I have ever laid my eyes on, and I wanted to share it with you. It's by Wystan Hugh Auden and it made me happy, after it made me incredibly sad:

"Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good."

Why would something like this make me happy?
Because it's more about love than death, and I think most poems and thoughts of death I triggered by thoughts of love. We might talk about death because we love life, or we lost a loved one, or we are afraid of not feeling love anymore etc..

I always seem to come back to love. I am so fascinated by the topic, that many times I forget to move from in front of a book shelf dedicated to poetry or philosophy. The last time it happened, I stumbled across Sartre's "The Being and the Nothingness". I don't think I agree with somebody on the topic of love as I agree with what J.P. says:

"(...)the triple destructibility of love: in the first place it is, in essence, a deception and a reference to infinity, since to love is to wish to be loved, hence to wish that the Other wish that I love him. A preontological comprehension of this deception is given in the very impulse of love - hence the lover's perpetual dissatisfaction. It does not come, as is so often said, from the unworthiness of being loved but from an implicit comprehension of the fact that amorous intuition is, as a fundamental-intuition, an ideal out of reach. The more I am loved, the more I lose my being, the more I am thrown back on my own responsibilities, on my own power to be. In the second place the Other's awakening is always possible; at any moment he can make me appear as an object - hence the lover's perpetual insecurity. In the third place love is an absolute which is perpetually made relative by others. One would have to be alone in the world with the beloved in order for love to preserve its character as an absolute axis of reference - hence the lover's perpetual shame (or pride - which here amounts to the same thing)."

O this windy Sunday noon, while birds sing seemingly unaware of currents, I ponder my own relation to love in general. It is as controversial in my head as the subject of religion, but not quite as adored. Recently I come to terms with the fact that I am more in love with love, that I could ever possibly be with another individual. And while that might seem sad, it stems from the fact that we, as Satre so elegantly puts it forth, love ourselves above it all. Thus loving love is loving my idea of love, which is inextricably linked to who and what I am.

Therefore, death is not so sad when it comes to any other death than our own. We tend to project each death on ourselves, thus the grieving. Although I might think I understand and possibly be in-control, it will certainly not prevent me from experiencing the deep tragedy of a loss. And if we talk about our own death, well, we are always with the being we love the most, ourselves, thus even in death, we can never be alone. The question is: "Do we really need the Other to feel more comfortable with the inevitable death, or are we equally impacted by it, regardless of who would be left behind?"

A week of contusion...confusion...or was it both?

My dear sweet parietal lobes and I have had a rough week, sort of. As it seems, if you're not very good at skating and you're going at a considerable speed on the ice, and for a brief period you sort of drift and just enjoy the gliding and forget to concentrate on leaning forward, chances are that your head will have a very nasty confrontation with the ice. This might result in a few moments of pure synesthesia (it was nice to see the sounds around me in bright red and yellow spirals of color that were intertwined with a very black background, all this with my eyes closed), then 15 minutes of blackout, followed by a huge bump on the head and 85 euro for a 3 minute doctor consultation and a week of only being able to sleep, take pills and eat.

I was lucky enough that the three friends I was with, really took care of me. Two of them, with whom I also live, took turns to wake me from 2 to 2 hours the night after the contusion, so I wouldn't slip into a coma. Therefore I really owe them one, or two, or a couple of big favors :).

Now, for those of you who are better at the skating part than I am, remember: a helmet cannot hurt, but not having one can hurt a lot.

This week made me realize, again, how fascinating the human brain is and how cool it is to study it's inner-workings right at the point of damage, for lack of a better word. Reassured that my word processing abilities are not damaged, I am waiting to test my math skills as well, and I will test them starting tomorrow. With or without contusions, assignments still have deadlines, and these may be postponed, but not indefinitely.

While "enjoying" my recovery time, I stumbled across a very interesting parallel between creating music and managing a business or a country (thanks to a musical friend of mine), a different sort of synesthesia, as I like to abuse the term.




There is constant talk about interdisciplinary contexts and sharing information and data bases between and across fields, departments etc. and it's all, as it always is, linked to the mechanism that we are.

Deconstructing Fear

When I was little I could do anything I wanted, the confidence was enormous, there were no boundaries. Then something changed (I blame it on the horror movies I started watching at the age of 5) and I was scared of a lot of things, the scariest of them all was the dark, which later I interpreted as being the unknown.

There is a scene in Oldboy (2003) in which one character wants to avenge his teeth with another teeth pulling session done with a hammer. And he looks at the man who caused him several front teeth to be made from gold now and simulates a "hammer job" on one of his teeth. The future victim screams scared. But the golden teeth man does nothing, laughs and says that people tend to shrivel because of their imagination and if you imagine nothing you'll be fearless.

If we put the two paragraphs together and couple them with the TED speech below, we have a basic recipe for tackling fear, fear of anything: of public speaking, of people on the street, of relationships, of huge exams, of 2012 :)) etc. etc. etc..

The 9th floor, Oasis, cooking, Sweden and Sinterklaas

Hmmm, D. H. Lawrence was right about the marmalade and shredding oranges part ("I got the blues thinking of the future, so I left off and made some marmalade. It's amazing how it cheers one up to shred oranges and scrub the floor"). After I vacuumed the hall-way and I cleaned the kitchen and I made myself some poached eggs with tuna, rice and tomatoes, I felt better.

Why did I want to feel better?

Well, because I got a bit of "the blues" myself. A lot has happened these past few months (I meat a lot of musicians, I went to Denmark and Sweden and Germany in a flash trip, I acquainted myself to Sinterklaas - the Dutch version of the Romanian Sf. Nicolae - at his huge parade, I finally figured out what I want to research this year, I've been through a week of hell (class-wise), and I started getting used to the constant rain here...I repeat I started, I'm not fully used to it yet).

Although Malmo in Sweden really relaxed me, although the concerts at Prins Claus Conservatorium were a delight, although the Sinterklaas parade was awesome, although I'm very excited about what I want to research, although I made a looooot of friends here, although I am not that home sick, because Groningen is "crawling" with Romanian students :)) and I see Jeremiah on Skype all the time, although I have an amazing housemate from Romania who takes care of me from time to time :), although I have the distinct feeling that time actually past slower since I came to the Netherlands, well, I still "got the blues thinking about the future".

I think it all started when I my advisor asked me if I wanted to apply for a PhD program and after I spent a whole afternoon on the peaceful 9th floor of my university building. The windows there are round, like a submarine's windows, if a the submarine were at the Nemo ride in Disneyland, CA. Although there were 8 floors beneath my feet and the scenery from above had a certain charm to it, the distinct feeling of sinking surrounded me, and that's when "the blues" started and it's been lingering since.

I hope Oasis will get me into a state of "the blues" that will shock me out of "the blues", an over-dosage of "the blues" so to speak :) (like Seinfeld said talking about cough medicine: Figure out what will kill me, and then back it up a bit.)

For all of us I hope the winter cheer will be near this year :).

Let's be SKEPTICAL!

I fell into the allure of the unexplainable a lot of times in my life, but, then again, that tickles my curiosity filling my body with dopamine, so you can't really blame me for seeking the stuff. Still, we can all benefit from the positive part of being skeptical.

Less, Lesser and...oh...even Less

I woke up with my heart beating like a lab mouse's before a live autopsy. My head was throbbing and my skin felt on fire. While my stomach was singing its Hunger Symphony, I got out of bed and looked out the window. The images came right back into my mind...so vivid and so disturbing. I had done terrible things and I only realized I was dreaming when I had done the ultimate terrible thing.

How sick or morbid or just plane gruesome can our imagination possibly get? Sometimes I think we're split between the nice, socially acceptable people we try to be and the really disturbed creatures we really are. Or is it just me?

Decision time does that to me, whenever it shows it's eager little face. Torn between two continents, two possible outcomes, two possible lives...Am I too small for big decisions? Or I am just as undecided as ever because both the outcomes are not what I had in mind for this time in my life. Or am I afraid I have less time?

I was joking with my best friend these days, when we had no money for food because we spent it all on stupid things like more food :), that it's both so weird and so funny still being a poor student after four years of college. A lot of my friends have to worry about pay cuts and getting fired, while I still worry about when my mom can put some money in my account, so I can eat at the student cafeteria.
Am I that attached to this student life - a life I wasn't so much looking forward to about four years ago? I had so many other thoughts about how my student life should be or should have been like and instead I am constantly surprised. I guess this is the beauty of not having things come out exactly as you picture them to be. Would predictability enhance anything except safety?
Do I want a safe snuggled life or do I want excitement? :)) I wonder if there will be a time in my life when I would pass up an exciting thing for the safe, predictable easy to deal with move.

Again I am tormented. I guess you can tell by the length of this post. I don't know what to wish for anymore. I feel as if as my wishes and desires constantly change, my focus becomes blurrier and blurrier until...No, I don't become totally unfocused, but I do tend to treat the things I experience as things experienced by someone else than myself.

I feel I'm not living in this reality anymore, except maybe when I go out. And even then I escape to my solitude and my detachment. Don't worry, I'm not going crazy, I’m just contemplating myself and what's around me more that usual. I feel as if I'm taking a leave of absence from this existence. I'm not saying I'm having a parallel one, I'm just looking for something. When I'll find that something, I'll probably write more on my blog and you'll have the privilege of being annoyed more often by my posts.

Hypocrisy. Our whole society is based on it. I would just like it if for a while, all the people on this planet would say exactly what they were thinking of, when they were thinking it. What would become then of our puny society? Such a fragile artificial organism, isn't it?
I always seem to stumble on the paradox of choice. The amount of time it takes us to just select our daily clothing items or our food or our deodorant in a supermarket. By parallel, how long should it take us to make a far more complicated decision, let's say which career to choose or which job to take or which person to marry or, ultimately, who we want to choose to be? How long does it take us before we stick to an idea of who we want to be in our minds, in front the mirror, in bed, in the eyes of perfect strangers?

One of my friends once said that only people who don't have a clear and focused agenda ask themselves who they are. That people who know exactly what to do and are constantly active don't ever wonder silly stuff like: Why are we here? and What is our purpose in life? Maybe I'm just not that busy or focused or full of plans and that's why I wonder about my place and purpose on this small planet, in this small solar system around this medium-sized star on the brink of this most probable universe out of all the possible ones. Or maybe the busy people want to be busy so they don't feel lost. Maybe they're afraid of being lost. Or maybe I'm just a bit hallucinating at this very moment. In any case, thanks for coming this far with me! And here's a Teardrop on the fire of your trouble:

Sometimes...

A lot of free time on your hands means a lot of randomness in the head, at least for me it does. This randomness parleys into thoughts, which trigger emotions, which trigger more thoughts than actions than I would like to admit...but am admitting.

For those of you who were able to follow that, here's another: The carpets would be foot-worn with the treading of my thoughts, if I had such carpets, instead I choose to tread the 2.0 part of my life.

William Butler Yeats once wrote:

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

Sometimes I think that the only things that are truly our own, are our thoughts. But then I become socially-labeled-sad, because our thoughts can be twisted and tweaked by circumstances and energies that we, many times, are so unaware of.

I might be so proud and so confident as to state that these are MY thoughts. But what is truly ours? Then again, what is "truly"?


It's raining outside. I'm actually looking outside as I’m writing this. There's a leaf hanging for dear life on a branch in the tree right next to my window...but the leaf is dead...

Part of something, Part of everything, Part of...(Not Nothing :D) my latest poem: Astray

....It may be God or Allah or Buddha or Zeus
Sunny mornings or flowers or a moose,

It may be software or books of money
Or movies or jokes that aren't funny,

However far our beings go astray,
We believe in something anyway.

If you suggest that you don’t need to pray,
Even if it’s to yourself in your mirror’s way,

I know you’re doing something of the sort,
But are too proud to admit the spiritual effort.

You need to believe so you can feel empowered,
Because you’re alone and, deep down, a coward.

Immersion

About four years ago, when I was studying, well, sort of studying, to pass my high-school exams and get into a good university, my body experienced something very strange to me at that moment. Mentally, focus-wise, I was quite alright, but my organism was channeling all the stress to the bone system, therefore I was in a lot of pain for a couple of months, all because of my joints.

Now, after a lot of exams and a lot of changes in my life, I find myself experiencing a huge amount of stress again. My bone system is not the source of pain this time, my subconscious is. All my dreams are totally messed up and make absolutely no sense (they usually have a plot, or some kind of action). I feel as if immersed in another Chien Andalus film, but this time, no ants, but a lot of teeth. I am not only dreaming them, but also clutching them in my sleep. Not a healthy thing for my maxillaries, but I just cannot control the unconscious clutching.

Stress is a very odd thing that our body experiences. It often has surprising effects. I'm glad that I don't feel it as accurately while I am awake and I can carry on with my business, but I would like to have it eliminated all together, not just in the conscious part of the day.

But enough about stress-related changes in humans. School has started, for a while now, but I haven't quite started it myself. I went to one course and it was only about organizing the course itself and not about relevant information about that particular subject, so I got fairly bored, like you probably are right now :), and I haven’t been to a course since.

Have a very un-stressful rest of the autumn and don't forget that Heroes is on its third season. A lot of related to stress and anxiety changes are going on there :).


Good Luck to You,
Lumi

We're messed up :)

Sometimes we just don't know or refuse to see that we do have loads of things to be thankful for. If complaining were an Olympic event, I would probably break more records than Phelbs did this 29th edition of the Olympic Games. I always complain and I'm sure I almost always annoy the people around me.

It got in my head that I was this complicated creature with a huge amount of insurmountable problems, but this is just balderdash and I know it. I have a lot to be thankful for and I know this too. It's just that, we people, at least some of us (myself included) tend to see the particularly empty, sad, moneyless, future-homeless and lonely part of the glass, instead of the part filled with great friends, health, Internet, Battlestar Galactica, fluffy clouds, frogs, endless conversations about nothing, smiles, trips, sunny days, rainy days, books, chocolate, music, wind, love that was, maybe is and perhaps will be.

Because I've mentioned Battlestar Galactica, you should check it out if you're in the mood for a phylosophical-mythology-based-end-of-human-race-thrilling-story-
packed-with-action-and-gorgeous-actors-and-actresses-SciFi.
As for the music part, I have finally found a song I've been looking for since last summer: The Fray - Look after you.





Really look after what you have! :)

To annoy or not to annoy...that is the...u know :)

Well, well, it seems that I have taken a small leave from my writing. I guess the whole degree thesis shenanigans wore me out more than I want to admit to myself, or maybe I'm just king of uninspired. Nothing very thrilling seems to happen. But I won't say more on the subject, Murphy's law apply when you lest expect or want, from my experience.

I am fresh out of a very uninteresting weekend. It was so uninteresting that I'm still recovering from the dullness. It’s so sad when you go home and the most exciting thing that happens to you is a conversation with your granny, which actually turns into an interrogatory about what you're going to do with you life now that you’ve graduated.

WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH MY LIFE?

That's actually a pretty good question. People around me kind of look like they know the answer or part of it. Many get jobs, others look for a future home, others stress themselves in the search for a good graduate school and I...I just annoy myself.

I started a nice book by Edward de Bono, called Lateral Thinking, you know it for sure. The book encourages us to think out of the box and find more than one satisfying solution to any given problem. Maybe I'm reading it because I want to find a way to annoy other people, other than myself...that's thinking out of the box for you. It's already starting to work.

Speaking of new solutions and ideas, if you want to know why a 9 year old thinks pockets should be detachable or how he turns a twisted and sad family tragedy into an exquisite string of weird happenings, you should definitely open Jonathan Safran Foer's Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close book. A friend of my mine, who left Romania about a week ago, gave it to me. I couldn't put it down until I reached the final page.

Returning to the being annoying bit, here's the most annoyingly pleasant tap dancer I have ever seen, in Top Hat:

My work :)

I was looking through my poems today (the link on the blog works, but the site is in remodeling, so the poems are not available for non-users yet) and I found a poem I had forgotten I wrote. It seemed fitting for today, because it completes my being-lost feeling.


Start again

I begged them all to stop and cheer,
I cried so loud the depths could hear,
I shouted and I spat in rage,
I couldn't turn another page.
The story was so true and blunt,
It ignited my selfish heart.
It was a story about me
And what I finally come to be...
A big mass of information,
Decaying to termination.

Hope is just a feeble concept,
Money's only but a thing,
Life has palpability,
To which we all so dearly cling.
We give it up so hard and tough,
Even when we have enough.

Some give it with relief,
Others take it in a brief.
We all think with disbelief,
That it doesn't end so fast,
That we have a future and a past,
But we never know for sure.
That's why this life, I adore.

I don't want to see the story end,
Whatever rules I have to bend
Without hurting those apart from me,
I couldn't bear to do the wrong I see.
The wrong the world makes my eyes endure,
The world where nothing can assure,
That what you love will stay unharmed
And what you want shall be done.

I don't have the power to abolish,
Those who stubbornly want to demolish,
Peace and love and friendship too,
But I could fight with you.
For the sake of my existence,
I cold hurt you in an instance,
It's still survival of the fittest.

Whatever more we do invent,
I'm tired of hearing that
It's all built with good intent,
When all things have double usage,
They can destroy or do some good,
It depends on the dosage
Of the user's mood.

I close the book of no return,
I don't want to see the end.
The lines I read make my brain burn.
Before finish I want to turn
And start again.

Good or Bad?

Stop being way nicer than you really are! Stop doing favors that you hate doing! Stop helping others when you need help more than them! Stop thinking that you are indestructible, incorruptible and hard to manipulate?

We are feeble and bad and stupid and lazy and we stress ourselves about problems that we, many times, don't have. We are week and we can hurt those around us. The only thing that saves us from what we are is the will to do good.

It's always a matter of choice. Nobody says that doing good is the easy choice, it's easier to ignore the people who ask you for help, it's easier to avoid/be mean to your enemies than be kind to them (who does that anyway? who is kind to their enemies? that's the proverbial turn the other cheek business sent to the battle field of current society). Whatever you think of doing, ignore that and do some good, just don't be false about it. This is the trickiest thing ever: do something good genuinely, even if you don't want to do it or if it's too hard.

Sometimes it's a challenge for us all, to test the power of our will, sometimes we just make the easiest choice and do nothing and many times, we do something that, if we have a conscience, we regret after a while.

I'll always be sorry for being mean to my grandfather just before he died, or being disrespectful so many times to my grandmother. I'll always be sorry for killing a big, green and sparkly caterpillar when I was a kid. I'll always be sorry for hurting my mom by ignoring her or for hurting my dad by lying to him, I'll always be sorry for not being there for my friends when they needed to talk about what was bothering them, but I was in no mood. I am sorry for not making the right choice or thinking the right thing too many times. I'm sorry for flirting with guys that were hitched (not with me). I am sorry for all of this, but I don't regret one thing.

Being alive it's all about making mistakes and learning from them. If you learn from the mistakes that others have made, great, but, usually, we learn better if we actually experience the consequences of our mistakes.

Stay safe! Be good! Stay Alive!

Back in action :)

Being too hot and all, it's been a while since I thought...on the blog, of course. With one more exam around the corner and a whole final thesis to prepare, time and the weather are not my best friends these days. I'm sure I'm not the only one in a time pickle, but I am sure that I'm amongst the very few who managed to be ostracized by their final thesis coordonator. Ah yes, the sweet sound of panic rings in my ears.

I came home a nervous-wreck-to-be. The warm, safe and smothering air in the room filled me with the joy of not having any more problems than I already had, but...surprize!!! In the late hours of this beautifully-wretched evening, I found out that the professor that didn't get my homework emails, also didn't pass along my new grade. Therefore, I can now consider myself flunked, until further notice.
Ahhhh, the satisfying grief of getting the maximum score in the seminar, passing the exam and somehow, still, flunkig the subject. Isn't it swell?!?

Maybe tomorrow the tables will turn and I will have a beautiful day.



Maybe your day won't be too bad as well. Maybe we'll be closer to happiness tomorrow or maybe stupidity and bureaucracy will overthrow it all, yet again. We'll found out in a few hours won't we? Until then: good night and pleasant subconscious trails!

Stray

Sometimes you just sit and think (or stand and think). Your mind isn't linked in the present-surrounding reality, it just jumps from image to image while your body is prey for the aging seconds. Even with your eyes closed, you start the mind wandering through brain files with different extensions (.doc, .jpeg, .mpeg, .avi, .dmg or .exe etc.): the first poem you wrote, your baby pictures that your mom kept so dearly, your first view of clouds from the plane, the first time you made love, the first book that really changed you... a lot of stuff...

Suddenly, your thoughts aren't that coherent, extensions start to mix and you suddenly find yourself getting out of a pink trunk, in a room full of mirrors, where ducks indeed have an echoing quack and pink pigs in Armani suites follow the yellow brick road that leads to the cat's hole...
you're the hole, you're the duck, you're the trunk, you're just a dot, you can't be seen from the moon, you're not immortal, you have no idea where you're headed, you really don't know what's next, you're lost, if only there were a map for existing, you would get it out right now, instead of wasting precious time on rethinking things that periodically come into your mind and never get solved...Stop wasting your life on stray thoughts...just stop, have a look around, maybe you'll come into your senses, stop looking at people in the subway, just look at their shoes, no, not their shoes, look at the prints, that's it, stay with the prints, hmm, Kylie is really hot, although she's too small, so is Christina and Jennifer and Selma so is my patience with you, stop wandering just start planning your final thesis, you can start now, right here, you have a pen and a note book, take them, out...slowly, that's funny, if someone were in my head right now...wait a minute, are you reading what I'm thinking???



Wait, they don't love you like I love you
Wait, they don't love you like I love you
Ma-a-a-a-ps, wait!
They don't love you like I love you...

Make life Your Stage regardless of Who watches

On stage

The mistake of being chosen,
When you aim for playing by spite,
In a game that’s both black and light,
Surely links to the parts of life
When one acts like a heated knife,
But the butter is not frozen.

Another untrained viewer’s eye,
Randomly passing near the scene,
A strange inkling to intervene
Might gently cross his stream of thought;
Possibly messing up a lot.
The watcher doesn’t get to try.

The spiteful actor battles much,
All faces turn to judge his moves.
His features fidget, they amuse.
He sends his words out into meaning,
Their loud silence sees no clinging
To ears that eat his kind for lunch.

He is alone on stage and nothing helps his mind.
The role he has is hard, some lines are forgotten;
Changes made from frame to frame seem all too sudden.
He is lost and feeble and under the spotlight
Wishing that, at casting, his acting wasn’t bright.
Strangely he feels himself as being mute and blind.

Bit under construction, this feature of existence
Can get you into places without any escapes
And it makes you face your nightmares’ gruesome theater drapes,
Which normally you threat so, because they always hide
An audience unfriendly and just so full of pride,
That boos off life’s stage the ones without experience.



Copyright © 2007 Luminita Stoica

Bad, new haircut :(

I never imagined my hair meant that much to me, but it does. It's somehow connected to my state of mind, to my mood. Maybe I do act like a girl sometimes :).


After two very unsatisfying trips to the hair stylists, I have decided never to go to a woman hairstylist again, men are way better at this. Two women have managed to ruin what several males have beautifully preserved over 4 years now...

I guess in life you win some, you lose some...hair :D....and it doesn't matter how short my hair is, what matters is how and how much I think...or something like that:D.

When you're down, keep your mind occupied!

I don't understand people that, when faced with a problem that can very easily be solved through communication, choose to disconnect themselves from the other party and "Try not to think about it."

If you "try not to think about" all your problems, you will never solve anything, apart from the issues sorted out by sheer luck or coincidences. All my life I have tried to make people talk about what's on their mind, about their brain burdens. Many of them have opened up and found that verbalizing their problems and thoughts about them was way more helpful than wallowing in their self petty.

Still, I do agree that a period on your own, alone is necessary sometimes. When you feel bloody awful and you don't want to be seen or see anyone, people that want to talk about your problems make you run even farther away. But, if the problem directly involves two people and one wats to save something and talk about it and the other prefers to "try not to think about it", then that truly sucks for the party that wants to solve something.

Actually, that's how big problems start in this world, kids don't want to talk to their parents about who's bullying them at school, then they bring a gun to class and kill innocent people; husbands don't want to talk about their problems with their wives, instead they choose to beat them senseless to externalize their rage; students hate their teachers and they struggle to become teachers themselves so they can torture students just to get back at life; young people dream of becoming film directors, ambassadors, top managers and they end up being some firm's bitch in a small office in the financial department, taking files from one place to another for a living, coming home depressed, committing suicide at the age of 40 or dying from exhaustion at the age of 32, just because they didn't communicate what they truly wanted with their employers.

I admire those that dream even on their death beds, I admire people that take chances and choose to fail their way and not to succeed in other people's eyes, I admire people that believe in themselves and people that stay positive no matter what, I admire human beings that find time for themselves and don't waste their youth and health on jobs that they hate, just to get some CV experience, I admire people that stop doing what they come to dislike doing, I admire people that don't bullshit other people, I admire people that don't forget their promises or that are smart enough not to make promises if they know they don't have the power to keep them.

I would love for us to have an enchanted world, where good dreams do come true, where everything has a happy ending.

Happy Birthday to me :)

There are moments of clarity in your life, when you see, like a spectator, what you did wrong, what good you did, who cared for you, who you cared for. It's sad if you see that you gave more than you received, it's sadder if you received a lot and gave nothing instead.

I was talking about life and death with my mom a few days ago, about what happens to the brain after the body dies, actually what happens to our conscience when our body dies. I seldom think that the stress of the whole biological system collapsing is like a short circuit in the brain, maybe for a few seconds the memory randomly produces images from the brain files, images that seem to make people with near death experiences think that they've crossed to the so-called other side; after the short circuit, the brain dies too, it's like when you're erasing everything you have on your hard drive, actually it's worse, it's destroying the hard drive completely, making it unusable in the same form.

What happens to the information?...because, after all, we're just a biological bundle of information at work...well, the information is either recycled, it's passes like an entity to the universe, in the form of energy or it is transformed, thinking the body is like a black hole and the information contained in it will eventually end up in another universe through a white hole or just be terminated, without a trace except the decaying remains of the once living body.

Like I have issues, you have issues, the world has issues, problems that we ignore most of the time because we are too busy with ourselves and that's totally understandable, after all the person that we love the most in this world is ourselves.

Here's a film that deals with the oh-so-many problems that Afghanistan is facing, from child molestation to killings for not having a beard...despite the terrible issues depicted here, the film manages to exude a cinematographic beauty that fills the mind with color and emotion. The Kite Runner....



Today was my birthday, I don't feel older or wiser, I don't understand why people are so compelled to hurt other people and to destroy what they have, but I know that there are some people I can always count on and that makes the information in my brain construct a sometimes beautiful documentary of my life.

Thank you my friends.

LIFE IS CURIOSITY IN MOTION

I would like to state that this is the saying that has actually guided my life so far and I realized it recently. I think every person is actually in this situation and not only humans, but animals too. Evolution was based on this, if those fish weren't curious about the land, we wouldn't have amphibians, then snakes, then birds, then platypuses, then apes then Homo erectus, Homo habilis, Homo sapiens and Homo sapiens sapiens and Homo distructus (yes us, because we are so eager to make our life as easier as possible, most of the times, regardless of the consequences that our actions have on others and on the surroundings).

If curiosity combined with need were inexistent (yes we use the plural here :D, just in case you were thinking I did a blunder :P), we wouldn't have needles, vaccines, computers and so much questions, that eventually, get us into a lot of trouble. Curiosity makes us want to understand, which makes us search for answers, which makes us find out more and more which makes us ask ourselves more questions.

Since I couldn't find any other site on the net with the exact "Life is curiosity in motion." statement, I'm gonna claim copyright on it :D, because that's what we humans do, we mark our territory and then we defend it, other mammals do this with claws, we do it with wit...and now, a stand up comedy artist (Jim David)would say..."with[wit] what?".

Have fun with comedy Central!