Tag Archives: journalism

Blobs and thought fogs

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I wonder If I will ever get up from the floor.

Laying down on the old carpet that I firmly refuse to hoover. Among the little food traces and thousands of lost hair strings, I feel comfortable. A weird company, perhaps…

Everything here is timeless for a brief second. Getting yourself lost in the moment is charming, although the wonderful ‘episode of loosing oneself’ is bound to be depicted differently and most certainly dependent on depictor.

I wonder why no one writes books about this brief excellence or maybe even involves it in a crappy 120 min lenght script of a B-rated movie? Has a  simple and plain scene became hard to afford in the times when one needs to stand out desperately? Ridiculous, but  somehow in our minds, an idea was planted that it all seems more magical if you have a handsome guy/girl next to you, or for a different genre –  some cigarettes and depressive thoughts. Props became a necessity. A decoration, to accessorize boring things.

Fuck it.

My little moments are by myself.  Not involved into anyone or anything. And during those I am glad to be keeping up with the tradition.

Thoughtless staring at the ceiling… It later progress into the blob of thoughts. Uncontrollable, non tamable and like the wind. The one when you are sitting outside during the lunch break and trying to eat your salad with a vegan spin off: really naughty and annoying, but still doesn’t make you maneuver for the indoor seating.

You enjoy outside. You enjoy the wind.

The windy thoughts on a trashy floor.

Saturday.

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Stop whining, start dissing: A modern twist to slavery

To whomever it may concern,

after disappearing for few or more weeks I am coming back with the full force, well… to admit, my force is more of a fluctuating type. Certainly, it doesn’t matter where the hell I have disappeared, but I hope that there is still someone who missed my regular beef or creative outbursts ( the big gay moment). Wow, talking about self-absorption, right?

So here I am, sitting in a brand new house (it’s more new on the abstract way), brand new area, just finished studies and have a massive, unpacked luggage of clothes and post-grad depression. The only thing that keeps me busy is hunting down the spiders (forgive, PETA) one by one from the nest they have made, probably, somewhere close to my bed. In a way I am responsible for a species population. If you’d ask me, that’s pretty ‘grande’.

Although I doubt, but does that sound similar to your experiences? My advice: fuck it.

Yes, FUCK IT! Big time.

Being part of the society, that now somewhat feels more of a rat’s trap to one’s mental stability than a structure, graduates are bound to reach the overheat from this decision-making bollocks. Being a 22 year old female, I have done a bunch of haphazard and unrelated bundle of internships and placements, which most of them haven’t even been paid. Kids, that’s called a modern twist to the slavery.

Experiencing the bitters from event planning, film-making to journalism and etc., didn’t help me to solve or find anything that a woman of my age is supposed to, within this dis-functional scheme. If what, it pushed me to add few things more to  the list ‘That’s the shit I don’t like’. You can call me names at this point, but I don’t think that switching industries with an imaginary remote is bad at all. We do it for the crappy TV shows, so why not create an allegory to the shitty, I mean psychologically shitty, life situations.

To quote T. Edison: ‘I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work’.

Although I haven’t even reached the two-digit number of failures, I can put myself somewhere in-between his shoes. By the way, that’s a very strong statement from someone who has feet phobia. What I am trying to say, If you have no definite idea of what you would like to be, don’t try to squeeze the juice out of the dried orange (mad metaphor skills). Just pick something that sounds interesting. It kinda seems like a neglected suggestion, but It is a starting point. Edisonian approach ( trial and failure) can help you to maintain sanity and take the pressure off figuring it all out.

I mean, some of us are Edisons and some are Alessandro Voltas,Henry Woodwards or Mathew Evanses (devised incandescent lamps). Some start late and some early, but the early kickoff time does not necessarily mean a stronger finish.

Take your cup, preferably with some motivational or confidence-boosting quote, drink your coffee and stop depressing ( it is also a post for myself), because dissing bitch- that’s the shit I don’t like.

*Drops the microphone*

I do what I want, I am punk rock

Whatever, I do what I want!
Cartman as a pre-teen ho: Whatever, Whatever, I do what I want. I smoke crack, I do drugs, I drink alcihaal. I once killed SIX baby seals with my bare hands.
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The sun is shining, the flowers are blooming (almost as beautifully as I am, lol) and the life seems much more lighter and more pleasant. ON THE SURFACE!! Yeah, fellas, I am a martyr of spring love and it’s a torture! Not talking about human-to-human affection, just your natural human-to-seasonoftheyear kind of love. I mean, spring should be barely legal, just look at the kidos with the see-through T-shirts casually spreading  chemistry and hormones in the air. It is extremely contagious and drool-dangerous (if you have heart problems, you shouldn’t leave your house. Like ever).

If you, basterds, are like me,  stuck with some paperwork, then you shall not be tempted to go outside. It is a very good  piece of advice and you should follow it. Trust me, past few days  I’ve been trying to do some serious academic business, but then decided to go play in the park, instead. The next thing i know I am getting on with some beers in the corner shop and I can’t possibly leave them hanging,  can I(classical ‘it’s their fault for wearing the shiny gloss, not mine’)? So, like a badass, I take those babies, light my cigarette, turn around and walk away, while stuff explodes behind… Well, the last part might have happened only in my head, but it’s cool. I am punk rock, I do what I want.

kkk