The rebels of my round merry arsehole

I catch myself running. I have to be smarter than the ones who chase me. It’s guerilla war. They never show their faces or true intentions. They hide behind the mask of acquaintances or friends.  They are the ‘oh poor me’ or the ‘I’ll criticize the most irrelevant things with a personal attack’ garden variety enemies. On their own they amount to shit, but they represent dogma, fear, self-righteousness. They are the vessels for the Powers That Be. I smile, nod, run. Don’t look back. Don’t answer.  Just flee, dodge, laugh, put on some fantastic music. Don’t even bother.

These ‘lovely’ chaps are dangerous in only one way. If you don’t see them for what they are and you let them in your life and secrets, you are in trouble. Their beady rat eyes observe everything and evaluate everything. Because thinking is hard, they judge*, and everything that does not fit their idea of acceptable is immediately a reason to tell you their opinion. They are not jealous, but envious. They began their lives as rebels, but lacking the guts to back their convictions, they gave up. They occupy a couch, shoot opinions on everything (especially matters related to your life and choices) and shake their heads on how you can possibly be so gullible and immature. Or they have always been underdogs. Woe is me. Please pity me, oh poor me. Pity pity pity. Hard titty said the kitty. Eat my panties.

I sometimes wish I could tell them my opinion without any censorship. However, this is what they do, and come on now, I’d never do that. Besides I am not here to tell anyone my opinion on anything. If they can’t see they are being assholes, who am I to enlighten them? My job here is to fantasise about my glorious hero Nuare spending hours pleasing my gorgeous hero Nemeryl. Or the Archduke of Vantir, Aristius, paying homage with his lips to the flesh of his stunning L’etilian slave and-king-to- be, Liland. My job is to watch good series, movies, read engrossing books. I live to serve myself and my own pleasure on all levels, and be kind to those who love me, and not behead those lacking the good taste to do so. My cats worship me. If cats worship me all humans should stand in awe of my personal achievement. Bwa ha ha!

Other than that, I have editing to do. So long, and thanks for all the pageviews. :P

*Carl Jung said that.

Some thoughts on "thank you".

You can call me self-centered or an attention whore. You can call me selfish. You can call me naive, but I am still going to write about this: it doesn't hurt to say "thank you".

I am a member of bookmooch.com, a very nice site for book exchange. The whole system operates on points. You give books you don't need, get points, then use those points to get books you want. Good? Good.

I have stated in my profile I don't mind sending books even if the other member doesn't have the necessary points. Anyone can message me and ask for a book and I will be only too happy to send it to them. What really matters to me is sending the books I don't need to those people who want them. So, when a member asked for a book and they didn't have points, I accepted. When I emailed them with my acceptance, they said it was very kind of me to do that. 

A month and a half passed. I emailed them and asked them if they had received the book. No answer whatsoever. Of course the book could have been lost in the post, or beamed up by aliens to another galaxy, but would it really hurt so much to write back and say, "Hi, I'm sorry, I haven't received it" or "Yes, thank you, it arrived"? That's all I expect. One line of text telling me they received it. And if I'm not asking for too much, two more words: thank you. They never replied to verify either scenario. And this is not a one time occurrence. I've lost count of the times I have given or sent something to someone without expecting reciprocation, to receive absolute silence as the answer. It doesn't happen only with bookmooch. It happens with everyone and everything. It's an overwhelming new mentality of goldfish attention span and thick skin. One would have thought I run a multidimensional scam operation and as soon as they said "thank you" their name would be automatically added to an infernal register and after that, they and their children and their children's children would be damned for all eternity to serve my dark lord Boiled Broccoli. I don't know what is to blame for this mentality. The wayward planets? The overuse of mobiles? The anarchist communist black Jews who are the Saurians who hide behind the Freemasons who rule the White house by shooting laser beams from their asscheeks? Or maybe the fact so many people live, drive, fuck with their heads so deeply shoved inside their asses they have no clue? Your guess is as good as mine.

Hey. Yes, you. All those 'you' I've come across. I only want to know you got the damn book. Saying "I received it, thank you" does not hurt you in any way. Acknowledging isn't shameful. It doesn't affect your statutory rights. It doesn't affect your health, lifestyle or coiffure. But it does affect mine. It makes me less and less willing to send anything to anyone when they can't be arsed to spend maybe thirty seconds of their glamorous life to type a few words and press the 'send' button. It makes me angry and frustrated that humans pay attention to you only if they have something to gain. It makes me consider not giving anything for free ever again, but hell, I don't want to become like the ones I described. I enjoy giving. I enjoy making others smile. 

Maybe that's my real problem.

Fairy walk

https://itoshii-sanagi.tumblr.com/post/675472969388179456/requiem-on-water-by-khalilofearth

 

https://www.instagram.com/pnwonderland/ 

Screaming in my sleep, keeping my thoughts to myself when I wake up.

Out of touch with my core, so I took a fairy walk today.

There is so much beauty and so much ugliness in the world.

I can see both.

I walked in a green place with spring flowers; red poppies and pink anemones and yellow daisies and little purple wild flowers. I spoke to trees, caressed their twigs and leaves. Thunder rumbled in the distance and from time to time, drops of rain fell on my face like tears from the heavens.

I can see everything as a moment frozen in time. As a snapshot of beauty. I see the vibrant colours, the different shapes, the orgiastic multitude in form. Not two leaves on a tree are alike. Not even human twins are identical, though their DNA is.

If I shift my perception, I spot decay in the same effortless manner I perceive beauty; the yellowed leaf, the dead insect, the dry branch. They are as real as their living brothers and sisters.

I see whole worlds in people's eyes. I see their inner beauty shining. And at the same time, at the wrinkles of their very smiles I read the finality of their deaths, the finite amount of time they have at their disposal.

It will all be gone, I want to scream. It will be gone. Stop fighting with each other, stop sweating the small stuff. Stop killing the planet and bombing innocents and make your loved ones hate you. It’s more fragile than you think, and it’s completely unique. It will all be gone. It will not be forever. You are not forever, so be here. Don't live on borrowed time, on plans for a future that may never come. Don't live inside your head and play stupid head games. Be here with us. Be kind to each other. There is so much pain already, so much death and fear. Don't add to it. Please don't. 
 

Heaven and hell are here and now.

Choose one.

The god you choose is the god you deserve.

But even if I do scream, who will listen?

(If you enjoy my content, please consider supporting what I do. Thank you.)

Toxic relationships

Some relationships are toxic.

My most toxic relationship is the one I have with my mother.

I do my best to avoid toxic relationships, however it is very difficult to avoid the person I live in the same house with.

None of us is working right now and this means we spend a lot of time together. It's not quality time.

Many years ago, my mother decided to have a child in order to have someone to love and support her.

I am the 'lucky' child in person. 

She is not the first parent to make that mistake. A lot of parents think that a child will be a way to complete their happiness, expecting to receive a lot more than they are willing to give. A safe investment kind of thing. Make a child and it will make you happy.

Really?

Make a child and you will feel proud and completed.

If you want to feel proud and completed, nothing like taking a good shit to give you that warm and fuzzy feeling. Instead of making a child, add some fibre to your diet and drink lots of water. Satisfaction guaranteed.

I will never be good enough for my mother.

I am not good enough because my value as a human being is in direct relation to my weight. If I am thin and beautiful, I am good. I please her. Therefore she has to police my eating to make sure I'll keep pleasing her. Never mind the fact she is fifteen to twenty kilos overweight. That's another thing.

I am not good enough because I have friends she does not approve of. Right now, with me nearing my forties, she still expects me to spend time with her and not have friends. Or have friends, but you know, they should not be as important as she is in my life. And as she pointed out, what kind of person is happier to meet with her friends instead of spending time with her mother?

I am not good enough because I am stupid, I don't take notice of what's happening around me, a nonsensical immature little idiot who prefers cutting bits of paper and playing with stickers than doing something mature and more 'my age'. For example, watch TV by her side. Now that would be a mature and responsible thing to do, unlike writing letters and crafting.

I am not good enough because I am an introvert and I don't like mindless socialising. 

I am not good enough because I am 37 and still have not married and haven't had any children of my own. 

I am not good enough because it is perfectly okay to spend most of our monthly income feeding stray animals, but if I want to fix my glasses, go out for coffee or go to the doctor that's not really necessary or important. 

I am not good enough because my value as a human being is in direct relationship to how much I please her. Ideally we should be like conjoined twins and I should spend every hour of my day and every day of my life revolving around her, a blissful little planet orbiting around her pleasant personality.

You know what, mom?

Fuck you.

Fuck you and your ideas and your experiences and your understanding of reality.

Fuck you and your emotional blackmailing and your manipulation and your guilt trips.

Fuck your love under conditions.

Fuck your kindness under obligation.

Fuck you. I am going to find a way to do what I want.

I may not be good enough for you, but that's okay.

I am good enough for me.

I am good enough for my friends.

I am good enough for everyone except you, it seems.

And you know what?

I am perfectly happy with it. 

I don't need to be good enough for you.

I don't need you.

I just need me.

Many letters to write, and one.

I have several letters to write and I am too busy to sit on my arse and do so. However, there is one letter I want to write more than others, and it is the one letter that the receiver will never be given. It's a very long catalogue of swearwords and things I have been meaning to say to that person for years now. I have never told them because even if I did, they would get hurt and not understand a thing. They live inside their own head and love to play games. The games they play are preferable than their real life, which sucks. I play games inside my head too; it feels nice to be queen of the universe for a while, even if that universe is solely inside my imagination. But I feel the desperate need to get it off my chest and will do so. I will do so in my diary, because I don't want to say it in public, in case they stumble upon it and then freak out. You see, contrary to them, I do consider the kind of impact my actions might have on other people. I am not beyond it. I am not too busy being Sorcerer Supreme or the Left Testicle of Odin to bother with reality or other people's feelings. 'Nuff said on that.

Generally speaking, it helps to write letters to people telling them everything you never said, even if you do not intend to give those letters. I am serious. You can do it even if you are not on speaking terms with them, or they aren't alive. What really matters is the inner cleansing that follows a proper vent. Get it off your chest, my darlings, and don't be afraid to write anything you damn please. Then you can burn the letter and complete the cleansing. I do advise burning, not tearing it up. For those of you into paganism, Vesta is the Roman goddess related to purification, and Hecate can also help. Give the ladies a shout. For the rest of you, just set it on fire. Try it and you will see. :)

Well into the a.m.

 (The pictures have an educating purpose. Do not disregard them. It's Khan from Star Trek- Into Darkness  dressed as a French maid in the first, and about to have sex with someone in the second. Read the text below for more information. Source: http://kimeido.tumblr.com/post/91128959618 and http://kimeido.tumblr.com/post/99052818858 )

Naturally, the best time to visit my blog is well into the a.m., while my mother is asleep and the house is absolutely quiet. One of my cats is sleeping in a basket close to me, I have music on, and two candles are burning on an altar across me.

It's funny. I started spellweaving again after ten or more years. I have an altar again. I haven't had one since I came home from U.K., and now I have an altar in my room and I do spellwork, demanding nightly spellwork I never thought I'd have the patience or the guts to do again. Go figure.

Desperate situations call for desperate measures, thought there is nothing that resembles desperation in my current state of mind. Desperation isn’t only a bad advisor, but also not an inappropriate reason to do spellwork. You're most likely going to fuck up spectacularly. No, in my case, it is ‘lex talionis’, lawful retaliation. To put it simply, I am sick and tired of being every idiot’s asswipe for 36 years now. They want to screw me over using magick, fine, free will and all that. How about they get that ‘nice’ energy handed back to them on a silver platter, by a universal force/ porn star wearing a leather French maid costume and brandishing a huge erection? No? Why not? I mean, you had no qualms about sending this energy to me in the first place. It’s not like your conscience bothered you so much you couldn’t sleep at night. But if you don’t like the discovery that the one you have been throwing knives at can actually catch them in mid air, and oh shit, she’s throwing them right back at you, well tough shit, sweetcakes. Oh, it hurts? Oh, you didn’t expect it? Oh, it sucks having shit energy shoveled in your life? You poor, poor thing, maybe you should have thought twice before shoveling it in mine in the first place. Dang and fudge and ginger-pie, someone I loved had to die. 

Most of the time I am perfectly happy because I have cats, a steady supply of correspondence, a roof over my head, good music, good health, food to eat and people I call friends. I don’t go out of my way to hurt others, I steal no-one’s money or boyfriend, and I keep my mouth shut when I don’t know who I am dealing with. I treat so fucking lightly I doubt there is a single person who knows I who I am except for my circle of close friends, which is the staggering number of five people. And I treat lightly because I hate being disturbed. In the same manner, I don’t want to disturb.

You’ll be surprised to discover how many people see that not only as a weakness, but also as a reason to attack you. Why? Because you and they are so fundamentally different that a person with your mentality rubs them the wrong way. They see your lack of involvement and think you consider yourself too good to bother with them. They see you being humble, because you fucking know how easy it is to die and also because you take nothing for granted, and they perceive it as haughtiness and arrogance. They will project their sick inner landscape on you and then proceed to eliminate the threat by attacking you.

There are two ways to deal with these people. Disengage and go away, or kick the living daylights out of them. So far disengaging has not been working, so we’ll go for the killing them dead option. Not literally. Metaphorically. Let’s not forget that magick is the art of changing consciousness at will, so metaphor, symbolism and all that noisy and colourful lot are your tools and most trusted servants. Kind of the most evasive, obscure and drag-queen elements of human sciences being your homeboys. Great fun.

If you ask me, I’d choose the universal porn star with the leather French maid costume and the brandishing erection any time as my preferred pastime, but if needs must, they will eat my dust. 

:D XD :P

Love

What do you do to deal with the inadequacy of every day life?

What can you do to deal with the fact you are isolated inside a body and will be so for the rest of your life?

I thought I saved myself from danger and my own temperament that loves tragedy and impossible loves but in reality I opened the door and stepped out of life. I left everything behind, and as the piano pours out one melody after the next, I watch life from behind the window like a beggar outside a busy restaurant. I watch everyone else eat and have a good time. I cannot enter because I don't fit. I never did. Or so I used to think.

The line that 'killed' me came from an excellent TV series called True Detective. It was about how each of us considers ourselves to be something more than a collection of biological urges. Each of us considers ourselves to be more real than the rest, each of us thinks that our perception and life is more real than other people's. And we are all the same, a pitiful bundle of flesh and urges wanting to go on and condemned to die. We crave reproduction and power even when we claim that our causes are noble, even when we dress our desires with a higher meaning.

I crave the sky. I crave death. I crave freedom. I crave life. I crave godhood like the protagonist of 'Perfume'.

I am a bloody idiot.

I am no different than anyone else, just better at deceiving myself. Smarter than most, enough to muddle my thinking with my own mind games. I have exiled love from my life and feel comfortably numb, empty and safe, unfulfilled and manic. Yet I go on. I despise my own biology for condemning me to these urges because I have glimpsed something else, bigger, better, different. And at the same time I realise just how silly I am to despise something that is perfectly innocent, my body. And also because what I have glimpsed may be nothing else but Love. Love as in everlasting Love, that we try to bring down to our human size and try to live it as best as we could, reducing it and twisting it to something we can understand.

When the protagonist of True Detective briefly crossed over what he found was Love.

I am almost there. Almost at the point of understanding.

Almost at breaking point, where everything will make sense once more.

All I need is to take one more step, even if I have to crawl.

Open the door again, even if my hands are shaking and I am absolutely terrified.

Welcome back to the game.

Welcome back now that you know how everything is connected.

Breathe. You are safe.

Just breathe. The rest will follow.

Stardust and immortality

There is so much you don’t understand even now.

There is nothing left of us. Nothing.

We’re stardust and we return to being stardust.

Do you want something left of you?

Teach other people what you know. It may be a simple trick to make better coffee. Or you may be able to teach them something more ambitious. Every single thing that enriches their life, every bit of knowledge you share, is your bet on immortality. It will be left behind when you’re gone.

Don’t judge. They’re doing the best they can. Make sure you do the same. It’s very tough.

Don’t compare. There isn’t another person like you, not one. Comparing is useless, it’s poison for the mind. Ask yourself what you want to do, make sure you do it for the right reasons, and try to make it happen. If it doesn’t work, try something else.

Don’t ask why. Understanding other people’s motivations or knowing why something is happening is like wanting to know why it is raining while you’re caught in the middle of a downpour. It is raining. Either open an umbrella, find cover, or start dancing and enjoying yourself. The reason it is raining won’t make your enjoyment bigger, or offer you cover. Sometimes things are that simple. Don’t waste your time speculating while you should be using it to see what you’re going to do about it.

Move on, be strong, and make sure you do something new every day. Try a new recipe. Pick up a bit of litter and throw it in the bin. Smile to that grumpy neighbor of yours. Plant a single seed in a bare patch of land and see what comes out of it. Open a dictionary and read what an elusive word means. Pet someone’s dog. Take a different route to your work. Put your cell phone aside while you drive or when you meet a friend. Don’t worry, they’ll find you. You cannot escape so easily. If only it was that easy. 

Make sure you are here before you go back to being stardust. Make sure you live.

I love you.

Male/ male erotica.

Picture taken from http://www.reviewsbyjessewave.com/

Please visit if you're interested in reading reviews on male/ male erotica books.

I am a re-reading a collection of male/male erotica I have, Flesh and The Word 2. The one who compiled it as well as commented on various parts of it is a man, John D. Preston. The same goes for almost every writer in there, save for three or four women. It gave me a bunch of thoughts to deal with and try to unravel.

Now, I myself write male/ male erotica, and I've read some, including yaoi, which is Japanese comics focusing on male/ male relationships written and drawn by women. To be honest I have not read that much of this genre. The vast majority of m/m erotica I come across is written by girls to be read by other girls. Most of it is godawful. It's not about men having sex but about a female fantasy, and to be more precise, a teenage female fantasy, of men having sex. I am not sure why so many teenage girls find the idea of a male/ male erotica piece more appealing that the idea of a male/ female or a female/ female. Perhaps the disassociation from their own bodies and gender restrictions allows them to experience greater freedom in expressing themselves. There is only one catch. Not having the necessary equipment (penis and testicles) nor the hormone responsible for the function of the aforesaid equipment (testosterone) effectively deprives a woman of knowing what it feels like to have sex like a man does. And I am obviously not referring to receiving sex anally since both sexes have an anus. Even from that aspect, men happen to have the prostate at very close proximity, something again a woman cannot know what it feels like. But even more than that, how can a woman possibly know what it feels to have an erection, or to ejaculate?

With that in mind, let me touch on what bothers me even more than lack of a penis.

Men are not women. I am not going to analyse why that is and whether it is social conditioning that creates differences in our behaviour, or whatever. I am not a biologist or a sociologist. I just take it as a given fact. Men are not women. They don't function in the same way. They are not attracted by the same things, and more than anything else, they don't behave like women. Here is the key to understanding why most m/m erotica written by women is about as related to men having sex with other men as the Muppet Show is related to porn.

Men don't speak like women. They don't engage in long winding descriptions of how they feel. They don't use pretty words when they fuck. In fact, as soon as a good rock-hard erection steps in the game, you can safely presume that the vocabulary drops down to perhaps one hundred words, a large portion of which are swearwords. The blood goes somewhere else. Brain switches off. Fact.

Gay men don't walk hand in hand and murmur sweet nothings to each other's ear in public view. When they have a relationship, neither of the two is the 'wife'. They don't give vows of everlasting love under candlelight, in beds with rose petals. They are not cute.They tend to fart, burp and curse as much as any man does when in the company of other men. They don't comb each other's hair or put flowers in it. And they most certainly don't have cocks of eight, nine and ten inches each. Pretty please. Have mercy. If you think that gay erotica is about substituting Snow White with a second Prince Charming, then you need to learn the ropes. And while you're at it try taking a wrist thick, eight inches dick up the ass and then we'll discuss about how easy it is.

I have gay men in my circle of friends and acquaintances. Sometimes I had had to ask them some very awkward questions concerning how they practice and experience sex. And I love to read gay erotica written by men. There is a multitude of feelings and sensations I cannot describe or convey. There's something purely hormonal, animalistic and raw about the way they experience sex and attraction. Something urgent, straightforward, bordering on the violent. They are not attracted to the same things a woman would be attracted when she ogles a man. I personally don't know any woman that would find tufts of armpit hairs sticking out an exciting sight. I also don't know of any women who would enjoy licking them. Most women would not blatantly admit to enjoy rimming. (Licking  and probing with your tongue your partner's anus). Probably some do, but how many chances are there to come across a scene of a woman rimming her male partner in mainstream erotica? Slim to none, methinks. And this is why most m/m erotica written by women just doesn't work. Perhaps it will get another woman horny, but not a gay man. Which is neither good or bad. It just is.

With that said and done, let's see how I'll fare in that particular field. Hehe. I am really curious... But all in due time.

Christmas is coming! Weeee! It can go fuck itself! Weeee!

• The speakers of my home PC have started making gurgling sounds instead of playing music. I think I need to replace them. Also, the graphics card supports Hulk for president. Perhaps Hulk kissed it. Every time I try to enlarge a picture to full screen, the screen blacks out and the computer shuts down. When it comes back to its senses everything is tinted green.

• My mouth is full of tiny wounds for the past three or four days. Every time I eat something sweet or salty, it hurts. Which means it hurts from dusk to dawn and vice versa.

• My mother's best friend will be kicked out of her house in two weeks because she cannot pay the rent. She can't pay because she can't find a job. My mother has sold most of her jewellery to cover our daily expenses. Things don't look good at all although we don't pay rent for our house, but we do pay rent for our job.

• The floor of my room has absorbed moisture and the door was pushed off the hinges. When I want to close the door, I place it ON the door frame and place something heavy behind. None of the balcony doors are opening or closing because they need to be repaired. They are stuck. I have no boiler for hot water for the past two years. I wash by warming water in pots. I can't flush the toilet, most of the wall sockets are not working and there is mildew in the cupboards. We have no money to fix any of those things.

• I am 82 kilos. I have never before in my life been 82 kilos. I feel I am the child of an elephant married to a whale waiting to happen. I can't get in most of my clothes and it's impossible to exercise when I go home around 23.30 at night, every night. And that without referring to the fact most of my body hurts due to lack of exercise and working endless hours.

• I have not paid the electrical bills for many months now. I can't. I have no money to pay them. If they discontinue the electricity I won't be surprised. I won't be happy either. My mother has not paid for her taxes or social security in three or four years now. We can't afford it. I have no social security at the 'young' age of thirty five.

There is more, but I don't want this entry to turn into a litany of misfortune.

What you don't understand is that the only thing that saves us from madness and despair is humour and human affection. And what you cannot understand is that time flies, and every time you deprive yourself of those two things is a chance lost. There will be more later on, you say or think, but it's not true. The river of time moves inexorably forward, and for almost everyone is linear. Which means, if there is someone, anyone at all you have a good time with, seek them out. Seek them out because the river later on may fork, and each of you may follow a different path. And then you'll never see them again. Due to life, or death, you will never see those people again. And you won't be able to turn time back and see them, make up for all the chances that you had and never used.

Think of time as a conveyor belt that rolls and rolls in front of you, and you can eat all that comes your way. One day may be full of shit, another day it may carry treats, yet another day may be a mixture. Most of the time it's full of shit. Some sweets are a one-time offer, other for a limited period, others always. But you don't know which is which. So when you catch a glimpse of a sweet, go for it. Most of us think that the belt will keep running forever. It won't and the number of treats is not infinite. Neither are your days. Eat what you can when you can. Squeeze joy and sweetness out of life at any chance. No-one knows when the belt will stop. No-one knows if the chance you now have will be appear again.

Live. Don't breathe out of habit. My life sucks and I honestly try to make the best of it every day. My house is falling apart, soon I'll have no job and still I try to read books and see my friends and make things with my hands and write, because even if I get suicidally depressed NOTHING will improve. I'll just feel like shit on top of everything else. And falling into depression will make me give up.

Live. Live because everything is fleeting, fragile and important. Live and try to see the humour even when nothing is funny. Try to laugh even when you want to knock your head against the wall to stop thinking, and gouge your eyes out to stop seeing, and stuff your ears with instant glue to hear no more. I know how it feels. I am there EVERY fucking day. I know. But try to see the humour and it will keep your head out of the water and hold you afloat for a while longer.

If only I could make you see this.

If only I could see it myself.

Oh well. Our destiny lies in the stars, and I know just the way to go there.

 

Fantastic, amazing, hilarious writing advice!!!

Kurt Vonnegut’s 8 Tips on How to Write a Great Story

1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.
3. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
4. Every sentence must do one of two things — reveal character or advance the action.
5. Start as close to the end as possible.
6. Be a Sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them-in order that the reader may see what they are made of.
7. Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.
8. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To hell with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.

Taken from here:

http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2012/04/03/kurt-vonnegut-on-writing-stories/ 

Everything about you.

Ugh, perhaps I should have slept earlier yesterday... But I was busy re-reading America Gods, which is both brilliant and boring, Watchmen, which is one of the most detailed, amazing and multi-layered graphic novels I have read in my life, and thinking about a million things- and one.

You know, there is a saying. If you want to leave, go. If you don't want to leave, stay. But for the love of  God(s), sugar, or anything you hold holy, near and dear to your heart. DON'T. NAG.

Don't nag about how your life is. You are the one who chose it down to the last detail, either by choice or by lack of it. That, too, is choice, letting things happen to you. So please don't nag. If you don't like it, you're free to do something else.

Don't complain about your parents, friends, or boyfriend/ girlfriend (or lack of). Do not expect others to change to cater for your needs on any level. It is fascistic, illogical and a handy excuse to avoid any responsibility. You hate it when others expect you to change, yet with what ease you expect it from others. Do not expect others to show common sense when you first and foremost don't. It's about as effective as expecting rain to stop because you close your eyes. Stop the wishful thinking and get out of the rain. 

"Oh, I can't." Why can't you? "Because doing this will upset so and so, or I will have to displease so and so. Or even worse, I will have to face my own fears about upsetting them, displeasing them, and being an entity separate from my parents/ friends/ boyfriend or girlfriend." In that case, seek out professional assistance. You need a therapist or psychologist to help you develop social skills and a personality that is not some other person(s) conjoined twin. I am not being ironic here. In fact I am very serious. I can give you phone numbers if you ask. I care about you otherwise I would not be writing this. I cannot solve your problem though. And I don't want to hear about your problem if you don't want to solve it either.

If you see your life until this point and it displeases you, don't expect it to change without you participating in that change. You should try to get used to it instead because this is how your life will be for the next fifty years or so. It's very sad, but it's what you want, and what you choose is not negotiable. You'll get it.

If you don't like it, remember: you're free to choose again any time you're ready. This is not negotiable either. Your pace is your own. Your rhythms are your own. Your problems are as big as you feel them to be and I am not going to compare them with mine or anyone else's. But take your time because you really want to change, not because you want to procrastinate. And if you want to procrastinate, that too is fine. But please. DON'T. NAG. Let me be. I have my own problems and I am not going to spend a single second telling you what to do or pat you on the head making "poor you" sounds. You are not in need of pity. There is nothing pitiful about you and I am not going to feed you your drug of choice. You know perfectly well what you need to do. If you don't want to do it I cannot help you, no matter how much I care about you. End of the story.

Pffffffffffffff (sound of kettle boiling... inside my head.)

(I have no opinion on Nickelback... But the review is just hilarious.)

Problem solving

I have been meaning to write this for some time now. The actual reason is my frustration with the world that sometimes becomes overwhelming. There are days no matter where I look at there is nothing but pain and misery and trouble. And truth is, we do live in a world that is characterised by imperfection, pain and lots of trouble. However, if someone focuses onto that part of the world, they are guaranteed to go insane in a very small amount of time. What we can do is concentrate on what's right, on the positive parts of our lives, and slowly try to improve the negative, one thing at a time, baby steps, one by one.

That said, I would like to say a few things on help.

Help is a very tricky thing.

Generally speaking, help is seen as something good and the people offering help are viewed as "kind".

This is a very popular misconception, because most people who offer help do it for the wrong reasons and in a very wrong way. I'll try not to get into too much detail here, but give a few hints on problem solving instead.

Please try to help when you can, if you can. But don't get out of your own way to do it.

What do I mean by this?

Before getting involved in the first place, ask yourselves: Do I have the time and energy for this? If your energy levels are below the ground and you're up to your neck with your own problems, learn to say no. Unless you can keep your own head out of the current you cannot help anyone else do so. Don't worry, someone else will take care of that person's problem. If you let them. It's not your job or responsibility to be always available and willing, because this means you do not respect yourself and your own needs. And if you don't respect yourself, very soon you'll have very serious problems of your own. Learn to say no, unless you want to spend the rest of your life babysitting. You don't want to create needy people that depend on you to make up their mind about everything and anything.

You cannot solve other people's problems. I have been thinking I can solve other people's problems for years. It's another very popular misconception. You cannot do that, and it's not your job or responsibility to do that.You can listen and give advice, but always keep in mind your advice is good for you. It may not be suitable for the other. You can't solve their problem because present problems are results of past actions. The person who finds themselves with a problem has made a choice in the past that resulted in the present problem. They need to learn. Don't interfere in other people's learning process. If you were teaching someone to ride a bicycle, what would you do? You cannot learn to ride the bicycle FOR them. You can tell them what to do, you can hold them steady, but the rest they have to do themselves. They may skin their knees, get a few bruises, but sooner or later, they'll make it. Let them do this. They need it.

Sometimes all a person needs is perspective. We get immersed into our problems so much we think it's the end of the world. It's not. No matter what your problem is, it's something you can somehow face, solve, or ignore; in some cases it will go away on its own after completing its cycle (much like a common cold, or flu). No matter what is happening to you or someone else, remember: somewhere else in the world someone loses a person they love and they can do nothing about it. There are those who die, or are crippled, or in terrible physical pain, or lose their homes, or jobs, or sanity even as you read this. No matter what your problem is, put it into perspective, take heart, and be strong. There is someone else in a much much worse place than you are. Be grateful for what you have, don't take it for granted. Nothing is for granted. Nothing. Try to remind this to the people with the problem without making light of their pain or feelings.

One more point to consider is: is the person with the problem really interested in solving it? Do keep an eye on the progress they make. Some people are slow learners, so don't worry overly much. Some people want just to get something off their chest and need a friendly ear. That's OK too. But there are those people who habitually moan. Be particularly careful with them. In reality they don't want to solve their problem. They want your attention and energy. You can tell them apart from those in genuine distress because attention seekers always have the same problem. Every possible hint and idea you come up with is just "no good" because they cannot be bothered to change anything about the way they live their lives. They want a solution handed out to them in a silver platter that magically involves no effort on their behalf. They moan how no-one cares and loves them and there is a cosmic conspiracy against them, but they never offer help to anyone (unless it involves the chance to relate the exact details of their problem and gain more audience.) They are the so-called vampires, or drama queens. They always go and make the same poor choices which gives them the same problems in the long run, and can never understand why "god hates them". They are far too lazy to chase or do anything and they cannot understand why they cannot find a job or nothing changes in their lives. Steer clear of such people; they have the magical ability to turn gold into shit. Kind of Midas, the king of fable, in reverse.

Last but no least, ask yourselves: What about your problems? Have you solved them to the degree this is possible? Are you getting involved in someone else's life because you want to avoid your own problems? Do you give advice because it makes you feel important or useful? Can you maintain a healthy distance from the problems of others or do you make them your own? Be honest with yourself. If you are not certain about your motives, then don't get involved. If you cannot maintain a healthy distance, then don't get involved. If you have a million problems of your own you can't make heads or tails of, then don't get involved. It's not cruel or uncaring. It's honest, and truth will get you a long way...

Please consider adopting an older animal... and rescuing its life today.

  

Aw...we see this happen a lot when families are looking to adopt. While kittens are super cute, playful and big attention grabbers, adult cats are truly awesome. When looking for your next kitty family member, please take a look at our amazing adults too. Remember, kittens grow into adults quicker than you can say....kitten! 

"On behalf of us older felines here in the cat adoption room, I want to tell you why you should adopt us instead of a rambunctious kitten. First, we've all had homes before, and we know how to behave. Using the litter box, not scratching up furniture--it's all second nature now. Also, we won't badger you to entertain us as soon as the sun comes up. Hey, we like sleeping in too, and when we want to play but you don't, we'll bat our toys around on our own. But the biggest reason not to overlook us seniors is because we are so super affectionate. We know how to read your moods and decide when to rub up against you for a petting session, and when you'd prefer if we just sat with you on the couch for company. My own personal motto is, as long as you're happy, I'm happy. Well, I hope I've made my case. My pals and I are waiting to meet you and go home with you today."

View all of our adoptable baby and adult pets, in the following link:

http://www.friscohumanesociety.com/Adoption%20Applications/Available

PLEASE also check this- URGENT!

Pets on Death Row” was created to help advocate for NYC's Death Row Cats and Dogs. A group of volunteers desperate to save lives has turned into a massive community of caring individuals all over the nation – and world. Together, we are fighting to reform the NYC shelter system and save the thousands of adoptable animals from being destroyed there each year. The war is long and we lose many battles on a nightly basis – but we will not give up.. not until there are no more in need of rescue.

This page is dedicated to giving a voice to those without. Every day large numbers of adoptable animals are killed for reasons for reasons we believe unjustified. In most cases, these animals are loving, sensitive, and playful pets who simply lack a home. This page is their voice. Save a life. Don't shop. Adopt.

TO ALL WANTING TO HELP SAVE A NYC ANIMAL: Below is the link to the approved rescue groups that can pull from the NYC shelters.

Alliance Participating Organizations (APOs) Listed A-to-Z - Mayor's Alliance for NYC's Animals, Inc. (RESCUE LIST!):

http://www.animalalliancenyc.org/about/apos/borough.htm 

 Facebook page:

 http://www.facebook.com/PetsOnDeathRow/info

Life theories: Synchronization.

I have a life theory I want to share with you.

The theory is the following.

Many times, life is a matter of synchronization. In most cases, synchronization that doesn’t happen. Take my friend for example. She spoke to her boyfriend about seeing their relationship a bit more seriously than just the odd fuck in the weekends. She did not mean marriage, just a more decent behaviour, for example going to the movies together or for a drink, and so on. He did like her a lot and cared about her. Just not enough to make the extra effort to have a relationship instead of someone to use as a fuck toy. She gave him a lot of chances, again, and again. In vain. Today, three years after they split up because of his behaviour, he still sometimes sends her messages to ask her if she is ok. In reality to ask her if she is available and they can get together again. This seems absurd to me. I mean, he had her and made no effort to keep her. What does he want from her now?  The answer is simple. They couldn’t for the life of them find common ground at the time. He didn’t want to try or he was not ready, or he couldn't deal with it. Perhaps he never will. Bottom line being, my friend shrugged and moved on. Well, it certainly wasn’t that simple.This is the short version. She cried, she yelled, she thought about going back. But reality is very crude in its simplicity. No-one can wait for someone else. Life does not wait for you. You can spend your time waiting for someone else, someone else who may NEVER be ready to follow, or move on. My friend decided to move on, he stayed back. Sad? Certainly. Two people who genuinely cared about each other are now total strangers, not even speaking  anymore. It boils down to choices.

Even as write this I can see my choice and don't like it, but it's the only one I am left with. 

It boils down to choices and priorities. And self-respect.

So- goodbye.

It was nice knowing you.

I hope you live and learn.

I hope I live and learn.

Thank you for teaching me.

It's time to move on.