Eve

It seems that the hot afternoon won’t be over. It’s as if the sun is holding a grudge against someone and by all means in its possession that person must be dead.

A girl is standing in front of her painting. She heard that she should paint whatever she felt like, so she painted the city and above it a huge red sun. She always paints what she feels. Her city, in the painting, is dark-red as she is. And it was true. The city was hot, but depressed. The local TV stations reduced their schedule to four hours; their last announcement sounded apocalyptical. They all said the same phrase:
“We are shocked to inform you that our schedule will be reduced. It is as hard for us as it is for you. We are yet to be informed about what is going on. Please do not panic. We try not to.”

Since last week, the Sun kept coming closer to the Earth. NASA refused to comment. They said that both Earth and Sun trajectories are not as they expected and that they don’t know why this has happened...

The air conditioner is set to freezing but the room just keeps warming up. The colors of the painting dry as the brush hits the cloth. A knock on the door scares Eve- the girl, and her brush suddenly strikes the red hot sun with a black line, but only in her painting. It was the neighbors’ kid. Eve rushed to the refrigerator to get the boy a glass of water. Upstairs a door closed and the boy’s parents came down to get the boy. They were moving north to a cousin. Even though they had little gas and the roads going north were packed, they had to try to get to a colder zone.
They all watch in terror as their water supply is turned on for merely an hour a day, and their electricity is being greatly conserved. Food and water are growing to be extremely scarce.

Eve is standing by the window. She can’t shake a strange feeling that this is a dream, and the real world is cold, and windy, but she thinks that might just be wishful thinking. Everything seems to be chaos. The stores are wide open, but the food is limited because of the effects of heat over it. Networks run inertial but no one calls or has time for the internet. Only the few that had surrendered the doom.

As time progresses, and as the temperature grows higher and higher, Eve seems to give up hope and her mind seems to stray to those strange memories where her greatest worry was money.

On her last glass of water, her whole body covered in sweat, she got off the couch and saw the sun. It covered most of the sky. Everything around her had a melting texture. The side of the window was so hot that it burnt her skin when was touched. She screamed “Why don’t I just burn up?” and then fainted.

The rules of the Universe are still unknown to humans. The Sun and the Earth are just two pieces of an infinite side of things and we might as well be just dust in the whole scheme that evolved involuntarily through the ages because someone forgot to turn off the light. Or turn off the Suns.

The Last Lady

Below the tallest buildings we often find basements filled with darkness and bad smells. In such a basement an old man, in his dying age, was living alone trying to keep his basement as clean, but as empty as he could. He had things, and money, but he didn’t want any person around, for fear of… The Last Lady. His room was small, with half-sized windows, properly sealed so no water would come through when it rained, and clean so he could see the sun and trees. The street was almost as lonely as he was, as very few people ever passed that way.

One day, as his morning coffee pot was whistling on the stove, a shadow appeared in the window, following a loud scream that came from a young woman falling on the sidewalk. He walked to the window to see what happened, and noticed that the woman wasn’t moving. “Don’t panic”, he thought out loud but mostly to himself, because the woman was out cold. He opened his door frightfully, looking left and right for anyone that could have helped that woman and since no one was around, he dragged the woman inside and sat her on the bed. He pulled a chair by the bed and tried to wake her up with a wet towel…

The woman finally woke up, and when she didn’t recognize anything around, she just screamed, and then quickly ran to a corner of the room crouching there as scared as anyone could be. The old man was also scared, but he started to ask the young woman questions trying to calm her down. He found out she was poor, and fainted out of hunger. He could see her clothes were shabby but her face was clean. The scream was just an acknowledgement of the imminent fall. The other scream was just fear of the unknown. After making her a sandwich and offering coffee—her eyes were filling with tears, he started telling her that she was the first person ever to enter his home in at least five years. His reason was simple. When he was fighting in the war, he saw a woman, that appeared to be just another woman, but was in fact The Last Lady, the one often pictured with a scythe, Death. That woman smiled at a young boy—a fellow soldier, and caressed his cheek and the boy was dead; he just fell on the ground, and as he was looking at his face he could see the emptiness in that boy’s eyes. The woman disappeared into thin air. After seeing Death like that, the old man was afraid that she might be anyone, to trick him to go with her. He saw her as a monster trying to take his life away as she took that boy’s life with a simple touch.

Then, there was a knock on the door. The old man rushed to close the door, as he forgot to lock it when he brought the woman inside. But when he was almost there, with his hand on the doorknobs, the door fell, and a man came in bringing the door down, along with the old man. Regaining conscience, the old man stared at the man that brought down his door, and there was a lot of fear in his mind that after all the time spent running from people, that woman’s misfortunate faint was about to bring him to his last hour. The man saw the fear in his eyes, and apologized for bringing down the door. He told him he was a demolitions man and he was in charge of clearing the building. It(the building) was about to go down the next day, but since the old man rarely opened the door, he couldn’t have seen the poster from last week’s notice. The old man started crying and saying that the room was his home and he couldn’t leave just like that, so he asked the young woman to take him with her until he found another room. The young woman was just lying on the bed. The old man turned to the demolitions man, and he had like a big question mark on his face. The old man suddenly realized that the demolitions man couldn’t see the young woman, she wasn’t there. So he ran to a mirror and looked through it at the bed where she was supposed to be. He bowed his head, and covered his eyes as he started crying. The demolitions man left wondering what he had just saw—a crazy old man, but what was that man so afraid of and why was he so sad?

Death explained that she set up the elaborate trick to get him to trust her, so he could understand that death itself is nothing to be scared of. At first he was very angry, and shouted at her that it wasn’t fair, as she had tricked him. Only one argument convinced him. She said to him:

“Do you see the monster you thought that boy had seen? It was just his time to come with me. Do you feel different… now that you’ve met me? No, you don’t. Just take my hand and everything will be all right”.

The old man reluctantly hold out his hand with his eyes closed, and shaking as if something horrible was about to occur to him. But as the young woman touched him, and their hands were joined, the old man’s fear, his panic, his pains, his illnesses, his joys, his dreams, his memories, his money, his room, and last but not least, his hope… they all disappeared. And then she said to him:

“What you feared would come like a scream is like a whisper. Now that you are mine you can’t be worse than when you were afraid of me”

There was an old man who lived in a room and, like all of us at some point, was frightened of the dark. But who had discovered in the last minute of his life that there was nothing in the dark that wasn't there when the lights were on.

Another day, another wish…

I wish girls knew how beautiful they are…without make up, without high heels, without “Silicon Valley”…
That spark in her eyes first thing in the morning could make a man or a lesbian happy for the rest of his or her (the lesbian) life. That natural blush of excitement whenever she’s happy, that smile of acceptance, as in the MasterCard commercial, priceless.

There’s no comparison between a woman wearing makeup, dressed up, and a woman with no makeup wearing whatever she felt like in the morning. The first one will make several trips to the bathroom to check her makeup or her cleavage, while the second one will have all the time in the world to charm everyone with her smile, as she is confident enough to wear that smile to wherever she’s going. Make no mistake, no one wants to see a smile with spinach, I never said men like a woman with poor vision while she’s looking in the mirror. But I believe there’s no point in drawing your face, lifting your boobs, or killing your feet with 10 inch heels, if you don’t have a single intelligent thought to express.

Could the time spent browsing for makeup be spent for resting so you don’t have eyes like Kermit the Frog, or for a relaxing bath, so your skin won’t feel like it just spent time on a construction site? Could the time spent at the hairdresser for dyeing your hair be spent with a brush, in its natural form, while reading a book, so you don’t think Baudelaire is a French food innovation? Wouldn’t your eyes be clearer, whiter, without that crayon around it, if perhaps a tear from Karenina, or from a Fellini movie, would from time to time wash your worries away?
What about the breasts? Well, newsflash! Not every guy likes big boobs. Unless you prefer shallow narrow-minded idiots with mother issues, most of them like sizeable “tits” (as they usually refer to your breasts). For most men, the package they are looking for, even if they don’t know it, is beautiful eyes and a lovely smile, used properly to seduce the poor bastard called in various occasions, later on, “honey” or “darling”.

I’ve heard lots of times that being a woman is hard… I believe that, apart from child birth and menstrual problems, men and women are very much the same. Maybe some men would say that in the long run, since the pain may be easier to handle once you get used to it, being a man is not so easy, considering the demands of most women, considering not having looks to use in one’s advantage…
So my wish for today is this: women should spend more time improving themselves than improving their looks with fake items. It would be easier for all of us to see each other without makeup or lies of that type. I love a smile without lip gloss, I love eyes that sparkle without crayon around them, I love a woman who knows how to seduce a man without saying a word, and I love a woman who knows how to make a man fall in love with her by a single phrase or conversation.

Life doesn’t always make sense, and that’s a cliché. For guys women never make sense, and that’s the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Utopie?

Am descoperit acum ceva vreme, printr-un film documentar (aproape documentar), de o “miscare” numita The Zeitgeist Movement. Zeitgeist înseamnă "spiritul unei epoci si a societatii sale".Miscarea Zeitgeist este bratul activist al Proiectului Venus... Asa ca zilele trecute, neavand ce face si neavand nici un ban in asteptarea salariului izbavitor, mi-am adus aminte de aceasta miscare. Pe scurt, Proiectul Venus promoveaza “economia bazata pe resurse”. Cum vine asta? Pai, simplu… In primul rand, banii, fie ei in banca sau cash sau ..oricum ar fi ei, DISPAR. Suna ciudat si interesant in acelasi timp, nu?

Argumentele pentru asta sunt infinite. Este mai mult decat evident ca saracia nu poate fi eradicata. Este mai mult decat evident ca bolile si razboiul ar putea fi evitate. Prea putine exemple, desi importante, pt ce rau reprezinta sistemul monetar pt lumea in care traim.

Ideea Venus Project e simpla. Pe pasi.

Primul pas: impartirea resurselor in asa fel incat nimeni nu detine nimic dar toata lumea are acces la tot. Fara necesitatea profitului, fara costuri, totul devine utilizabil, iar resursele, abundente dealtfel, ar putea hrani nevoile tuturor in orice domeniu.

Al doilea pas: abolirea frontierelor. In afara de evidenta nevoie de a calatori, eliminarea frontierelor aduce pace. Din primul pas stim ca nimeni nu are nimic, deci nici proprietati imobiliare. In primul rand bugetul pt aparare al tarilor ar disparea, resursele folosite pt aparare/razboi ar putea fi folosite evident pt scopuri de care toata lumea ar beneficia in sens productiv. Fara frontiere resursele pot circula liber oriunde sunt necesare.

Al treilea pas: tehnologizarea. Omenirea a ajuns la un nivel tehnologic destul de avansat incat sa poata face aproape orice cu ajutorul masinilor/ computerelor…tehnologiei. Aceasta tehnologie ar putea fi folosita pt ridicarea nivelului de trai global, si asta e clar ca se poate. Beneficiile tehnologiei sunt enorme si evidente, de la monotorizarea resurselor pt a putea fi distribuite eficient acolo unde e nevoie pana la controlul sanatatii si pana la banalele jocuri pe calculator.

Nu pot crede totusi ca acest proiect va deveni realitate curand…poate dupa un razboi atomic, sau vreo catastrofa mondiala…poate si criza asta va ajuta un pic…dar nu ma opreste nimeni sa visez, nu?

http://thezeitgeistmovement.com/

http://www.ro.zeitgeist-movement.com/

Inner Child

Who is that child? ...The one you can’t see-- the one who’s doing all the thinking for you…have you ever thought about the weird stuff running around in your head? And then the question unsurprisingly pops as a turn sign at the end of a blocked road: “whoa, where did that come from?”

I remembered as I was going through some old stuff what I wrote on a piece of paper when I was just child. That writing has no meaning in words, the letters weren’t letters. But I knew what was written there; and I remembered I was looking at that piece of paper trying not to forget it as I almost knew I was about to. How many things are forgotten from that period of my life?... I don’t know. But I know that most of that forgotten stuff decides what I like, what I eat, what I think and all of the things that make me what I am now. Sometimes we (most of us) don’t know why we do some things we do, and it’s not what we would do, thinking about it afterwards. Some call that surfacing the inner child.

Psychologists (since Sigmund Freud) found a way to explain our tastes in everything…the inner child comes out and says “I like this”, therefor all the things we like come from our childhood. Our behavior is related to childhood years. Even our lies. We lie as our parents did. We trust people resembling our parents. We like those people no matter what… just because it feels normal. So if your father was a drug addicted, kleptomaniac with a tendency of depression you might not live more than 40 years And think about all the cursing we do (out loud or in our heads we all curse) that has to do with the mother aka “mamma”.

pt un post de mai devreme
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bni15_ZoXrc&feature=channel

WHEN WE TWO PARTED

Lord George Gordon Byron (1788-1824)

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow--
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame:
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me--
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee too well:
Lond, long shall I rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

I secret we met--
I silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?
With silence and tears.

What women want?

It’s a title of a movie, about an ad man(Mel Gibson) that receives the miracle gift of hearing women’s thoughts. I thought of it every time I wished I knew what the woman in front of me was thinking. Another show, this one on TV, “Lie to me” is about a guy that can read body language so well that he can tell whether you’re lying or not. He can also read most of the gestures made through body language. So, that show actually says that if you pay enough attention you can tell what a woman is thinking by her body language.

There’s only one problem. The difference between what a woman is thinking and what she really wants is huge. Well, for the sake of argument, let’s say most of them. No man, in full capacity of his mind, can say that he knows what women want. Most of the time, because women themselves don’t know.

They wanna be happy, but not too happy, it bores them. They wanna be loved, but not too loved, it scares them. They wanna be pushed, but not too far, it will enrage them. They want space, but not too much, they will drift. They want money, but not too much, they can’t feel loved that way. And so on, and so on…

Some may say that men are dogs for trying to grant women’s wishes for a while, until they may eventually be themselves bored, for trying to make their “target”-woman special, even though the other “dogs” might think different of him, and he feels stranded as on a deserted island. Somehow, that “dog” thought he might have found someone special… perhaps, or… he might just follow the “target” until he receives “food”.

It is always the best policy to speak the truth, unless of course you are an exceptionally good liar.--Jerome K. Jerome

Men occasionally stumble over the truth, but most of them pick themselves up and hurry off as if nothing had happened.--Winston Churchill

He who can govern a woman can govern a nation.--Honore de Balzac

You can never trust a woman; she may be true to you.--Douglas Ainslie

The great question that has never been answered, and which I have not yet been able to answer despite my thirty years of research into the feminine soul, is: What do women want?--Sigmund Freud