Uncivil thoughts
“I could never give up my fish”.

First of all, “would never want to”, not “could”. Something you can’t do is grow horns cause you’re not a goat. What you put in your mouth is a choice.

Second, what makes you use the possessive adjective? Do you think you’re entitled to the fish just because you can buy it? Well, surprise – surprise, do you really think everything you have access to is ethical thus giving you entitlement? Name three things that aren't, and I'll think about giving up trafficking my filippino girls.

Third, when I saw that you smoke, I didn’t tell  you “ugh, I don’t want to start smoking, I don't wanna get cancer and I don’t like the smell”. Then why is your first response to someone’s veganism “I don’t wanna go vegan”? It’s rude.

So how do you unpack such a packed message without sounding like an enemy, and without ranting?

“Yes, I’m vegan”

“Ooh, I could never give up my fish”

“……. Good?”

Suburban secrets
     I've never seen as many fences anywhere as there are in Russia.
     And by fences I mean solid, concrete walls that separate the oligarchs from the common working class, or one construction zone from another, or a school from a highway. These fences simultaniously serve as canvas for free speech.
     I was riding on a train the other day, and one of those concrete blocks ran the length of the railway, and on one of them it said in letters big enough for me to read as the train was zipping past: "ULYA IS FUCKING VITYA".
    This made me think of King Midas, who hid his donkey ears under a turban, but his secret was so overwhelming that he whispered it into a hole in the ground and covered it up, but when grass grew on that mound, it whispered the secret all around, and then everyone knew.
    Likewise, the concrete fences in Russia are a much - needed outlet for screaming one's inmost concerns, like one's political views or the fact that Ulya is fucking Vitya.
I wondered at what circumstances this text was produced (was it a guy who liked Ulya? Or was he concerned with justice or revenge, or simly proving his ability to be stupid and vulgar to a group of drunken droogs, and therefore matching the local standards of masculinity), and also whether Ulya really was fucking Vitya, and if so, if that meant she was cheating on someone else by doing it. I also wondered if she's ever seen this manifestation (truthful or not) of her privacy thus violated - it could be that she hasn't because she never travelled on a train  outside of the suburbs of Moscow, where fucking Vitya was was the biggest news in town.

Quarter - life crisis
Just because you're good at something and it pays well, does it mean that it has any meaning to you?

On the other hand, if you're doing something just because it's work, is it realistic to think that doing something fulfilling will pay off?

(no subject)
Landlordy fact #82:
He took me to the cemetery today and took pictures of trees because they are highly sexual and erotic.


Был этот мир глубокой тьмой окутан
А будь у Ньютона комп с интернетом, ну или хотя бы телевизор - занималыса бы он всем этим в свободное от работы время?

Postée à l'origine par mi3ch sur Был этот мир глубокой тьмой окутан

Ньютон, бесспорно, был странной личностью — сверх всякой меры выдающийся как мыслитель, но замкнутый, безрадостный, раздражительный до безумия, легендарно рассеянный (говорили, что по утрам, свесив ноги с кровати, он мог часами сидеть, размышляя над осенившими его вдруг идеями) и способный на самые неожиданные выходки. Он создал собственную лабораторию, первую в Кембридже, но затем занялся самыми странными опытами. Например, однажды ввел шило — длинную иглу, какими пользуются при сшивании кожи, — в глазную впадину и крутил им «между моим глазом и костью как можно ближе к глазному дну» лишь для того, чтобы посмотреть, что будет. Каким-то чудом ничего не случилось, по крайней мере, ничего серьезного.

В другой раз он глядел на солнце, пока мог выдержать, чтобы узнать, как это отразится на его зрении. И вновь он избежал серьезных повреждений, хотя пришлось провести несколько дней в затемненном помещении, пока глаза не простили ему его опытов.

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I only post on here when I'm not OK
How does one disappear if one has no money and if the people one’s disappearing from know where “one” lives?
It’s fucking with my brain. And so is rice. How much longer can a person survive on fucking rice?
Why did I get into the questionable activity that is now making me want to disappear?
Because I needed money and I was scared. And I couldn’t think straight. And I wasn’t used to hard work, just leaning on daddy. And I was lazy.
I’ve got two hours to decide how to disappear.
Adrenaline shots for dinner. Nothing like fat Arabic guys staring at you as you dash under street lights in a park. I went running because I needed to stop crying. Needed to move so that I could feel that I exist. Feel good about myself and get the mind racing. I’ve hardly been moving – my body is trying to conserve energy.
I’m also sick of being indoors.
“Muster up the rest of your courage and repeat after me: I will not be afraid of tomorrow.” -Unknown
“You wake up every morning to fight the same demons that left you so tired the night before, and that, my love, is bravery.” -Unknown
Come on, do whatever the fuck you want! What are they gonna do about it?!
I want to work with ideas. Art. Translation. Writing. Documentaries. The academia. Theater. Not taking a backseat.
I can’t believe that I’ve told you that I have got nothing to buy food with two days ago, and – nothing. I’ve fallen through your speech patterns I think.
When evening falls, I feel the need to repeat "everything's gonna be OK" to myself, like a mantra. Someone's gotta say it! Because it is. This is temporary.

Memory sticks
     Why am I doing this again, if all I want is play computer keyboard and juggle syllables? I am so forgetful.
      Wouldn't it have been admirable had I refused the real estate position outright? Oh yes, and done what, stargazing for profit?
      Doing what matters to you is difficult but rewarding, but so is trying new things... Or is it always?
     What can I have in common with people who are genuinely interested in banking and want to make it their career? Nothing lol. Because money means nothing and working for money attracts a certain type of people, for the most part. I did not know that people who are not real were real outside of modern folklore. Met the boss's wife today, she's the fairest of them all. She (or her tanned legs, rather) burst into the office in a bright orange halfway - above - the - knees dress announcing that she hadn't ended up going to London because she was tired of traveling (is she, too, running from herself?). She has one of those plastic surgery puffed faces that look like they're stretched over the skull. With incisions for eyes. It hurts to look at. Can't wait to meet the boss himself and imagine how very reluctant he must be to open his eyes every morning.
      I need an apartment real bad. Now. I need to let out my wallpaper cat - he’s been in the corner because he does not like hotels at all. At all. And I am sick of having to talk to nice people every time I eat. They make my buffet vegetables turn sour.
      Around 8 in the morning, finally took a plunge. Almost nobody in the water at this time of day and year - only "crazy people", according to the hotel owner. A break from voices. The sun and the sea are good for chicken pox marks, but I wish they'd stay for a while - skin cells have memory. I won't have any of the same ones in approximately 22 days.
     Hands up if you abuse substances to remember who you really are? Well I haven't had a drink since I left, which for me is remarkable…

In a nutshell
I guess the thing about regular updating is to regularly update, eh...
Since I'm a nut, I'll tell you in a nutshell:

Last Friday, Germany:
After successfully completing a five - hour trajectory on S - train, ICE train and metro from Berlin to Nürnberg, I missed a bus stop going from Nürnberg to Wendelstein. Just one. The GPS needs the initial contact with internet, so no GPS. It's 6pm, stores are closed or closing. No one seems to live here? Finally, I came to a store which had the store address written on it so that I could call a taxi and tell them where I was. I texted the host to ask for a taxi number, bitte. I had not explained where I was properly, so she gave me one for Nürnberg. In Nürnberg, after playing lots of nice and relaxing classical music sponsored by my roaming charges, they gave me another number for local taxis. I called and the gentleman said that the address I was giving them was more than 150km from where I wanted to go. I cannot helping you, lady! I tried to explain that I had just missed one bus stop, but started crying so he hung up, lol. I looked at the door to the store again and above the address it said "our partners".
All the while, two Deutschers were sipping beer at a table a few feet away. One of them had a sac of Roggenbrot sitting on his lap, no joke! So I asked them (phonetic spelling to follow since I mostly just listened to a German CD and have had little contact with text):
"Ednschuldigung? Bitte, wie heisst erste strasse?"
They briefly discussed amongst themselves and came up with the correct answer. Then they asked me several extended questions which I did not understand so I said
"Es tut mir leid, aber ich sprehe nicht sehr gut Deutsch. Ich brauche nämlich einen Taxi, aber ich weise nicht wo ich bin".
They asked where I want to go and tried to explain to me that they were going to anrufen ein taxi for me. I felt like an Indian lady from work, smiling and shaking my head until miming with props made me understand that "anrufen" means "telefonieren". So nice!! They looked like they knew everybody in town including the taxi driver, the store verkauferins and the people who waved at them from every second car that passed by. They didn't hesitate to ask for help from the audience as well as call a friend and waited for the taxi with me. When the taxi got there, I shook their hands and said "Danke schön für ihre zeit" and "zehr erfreut". When I got to my destination, the extremely nice landlady and landlord didn't seem to mind that thanks to my Deutsch immersion precedent, I arrived more than an hour late. The landlady and I laughed a lot because she didn't understand where I was because I had spelled the store's name - REWE - in English. However, she understood at once when I mentioned the two guys trinking beer (aaaah! Rivi!). They do it every day there, apparently. Knowing your alphabet is important. I've already learned that in France trying to spell my email ( j = "ji" oder "je"?). The German couple speaks ziemlich gut Englisch, aber  she showed me the house in Deutsch and surprisingly, I understood! Including "Rauchen Sie?"

Today, Newcastle: every tenant - landlord - hooking - up network seems to want to leave me homeless in this country. However, I finally moved in today. Here's a riddle for ya:

Who looks like a landlady, sounds like a landlady, sits like a landlady, laughs like a landlady, dresses like a landlady, cooks like a landlady, has a hairdo like a landlady and nails like a landlady but is not a landlady?

(Answer: a landlord - crossdresser).

Vegan and a music teacher, comes complete with a cat. Perfect. I've moved in today :). I'd wash the whole place in a giant dishwasher with lots of fresh - smelling soap, but never mind me, that's just me! I am far from being as artistically inclined. This extremely welcoming person lost all three sets of keys, but made me juice. With ginder! I'd been craving carrot juice all week. I'm not even mentioning tea. Tea just runs in the background, like a waterfall. Luvleyh!

Thought I'd already been homeless for a small lifetime, but this morning I was surprised to realise it was a Monday, and still Septmeber. Which means that I have only left France two weeks ago in a hurry, hiding an extra suitcase stuffed with extra stuff under the stairwell where someone else had previously hidden a cardboard box because the person who was supposed to transfer it over to the less fortunate never showed up and, having forgotten to defrost the fridge the night before, I left it still drippng. I would like to think that it's all evaporated by now and the floor is nice an shiny and ready for the dry socks of the new assistants who don't yet suspect what they'd signed up for. 

Keep in mind
There's never gonna be a next time to say "thank you", much less to say whatever it is that "thank you" does not encompass. Make sure people get their flowers while they can still smell them, you know. And what ever makes you think that your flowers are inferior to others'? Flowers do the best they can. Useless as flowers are, people appreciate feedback at least or, more often than not, have no idea that you feel this way. Especially if you're acting professionally.

For example: this person doesn't know that she made my day because I had a dream where we had a great councilling sesson. On a bridge above a river. I can't thank her for that, but I should have done for her having been just as generous with her time in real life, and just as helpful, thoughtful, forgiving and encouraging where before no one has taken the time to do so. I feel like a person now thanks to her, and she has no idea, but I have reason to believe that she suspects. I'm a late bloomer, she says. She'd gotten quite a bit of them that year. Now, I am priviledged to be blooming. Should the time matter at all?

Vertrauen ist gut, Kontrolle ist besser!
Now that I know that my life is not threatened by the German authorities, life can go on.

Vielen Dank!


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