Uptight

A paradox – there’s no fighting against being uptight. How can you accuse someone of intolerancy? Isn’t that intolerant from you?

I mean – just as I am sitting here, I got harrased, because my soup „smells“.

What the fuck?

How is pushing someone around because they dance too little, or darken their windows too much meaningful and beneficial?

I admit, I get tired of this. And since I’m not a textbook example of goodly behaving person (I rarely do harm to others, though) I get pushed around a little too much.

Though if I think about it – why shouldn’t I be textbook example?

Well, the society I live in has quite the expectations.

And others, others just fuckin‘ hate smartasses. And they don’t care, if the smartass is really smart or just a pretender; whether the smartass is right or wrong. It’s someone who thinks that he’s better than them. And they, they don’t want to be worse. So, they tell themselves they aren’t.

"I don't wanna think I'm wrong, just for feeling pretty"
Lana Del Rey says.

You know the feeling when you know you are right, but a different opinion of others makes you uncertain.
Well, I got pretty much used to not being right (but hey, at least I admit it!). Never, though, one should shut their mouths just because they "might be wrong".

Things end. Other things start.

Right now, the cycles change.
A time of nostalgy and expectation.
Anger, happiness, worry, anxiousness.

I hate that my dance classes ended. It was great. Though, golly! How I used to hate the theme song they played before we had to choose partners!

I am worried about everything I will have to do. Whole bunch of things falling down on me.
I am supposed to play the main role in a play me and my class are preparing. A huge thing for sure.
And preparing for that isn't the only thing. If I am to represent some country at the Model United Nations conference I should be preparing all day, all night.

I am angry about how some things are turning out. How the play is turning out, specifically. And it's time for divine intervention! Though since we can't count on that, my intervention will have to do. Hopefully not putting too much on my shoulders.

One thing saves it though. I can't express how excited I am about the new GARBAGE album. And the 15th of May is getting closer and closer. Slowly, but still!

Bits and pieces

"Tick tock" says the fucker on the wall and looks down at me disgracefully.
"Tick tock" it insists. It doesn't feel like stopping.
I try to open my eyes, but they instinctively close, to avoid being harmed by bright sunshine.
I wish I had some of these self-preserving instincts too; how could I have possibly thought going out another night would do me any good?
I clumsily pick myself up from the bed to seek shelter under a stream of hot water.
...
Time has not been kind to me.
And I fear I learned not to care.
I don't wanna lose my swing.

I ain't no Bolschevik, get that straight.

I am strictly not nationalistic person.
I take no pleasure in bragging about how great my country is.

I however feel that in the great field of economic world it's every country for itself.
And so, it should be in every country's interest to support its' own production and market.

Don't tell me that's what communists did; you can't simply compare closed off cooperative environment to competitive free market. They couldn't support its' own producers, when they were THE ONLY producer.

Learn to love the pain you feel

What's wrong me? Or not just me, everyone.
What's with these sadistic intentions.
And I don't mean hurting yourself physically,
but letting others hurt you pointlessly.

But hey, what other way is there?
To close off from everyone, just ignore everything around you? No, surely not!

A cheesy but beautiful story; In US, at a public high school, after series of suicides an anonymous person decided to hand-make hundreds of letters shaped like heart and glue them to everyone's locker. Best of all, the person stayed anonymous, earning no recognition.

I think it demonstrates how people should be in crisis.
My grandma said "Back in communism, nobody had anything. Things weren't so bright and shiny like they are now. But people were nicer to each other. We used to go picnicking with neighbours across the street. And now, only thing you know about your neighbours across the street is that the smoke from their garden shed smokes right in your windows and you hate them for it. And they don't care; they don't know you.


I will always like being deep in shit better than perfection.
Because perfection is bullshit.
Nothing can be perfect.
And so, if you have perfect life, it's bleak and empty. If there's nothing that could go wrong, it won't.


And that's why you should learn to love the pain you feel.
Because with great pain, great pleasure comes.
And the other way around.

I know what makes it all worthwhile.

Belgian music scene hides many great bands from the rest of the world.