1984 dreams

Today I came across something I had forgotten I have in my possession. Some childhood Barbie and Ken dolls of mine. I thought I had given them away. One of my dogs had chewed them and they are mangled at places. Probably that's the reason I kept them. I had forgotten them, yet as soon as I opened the bag and saw the splendid dresses, I remembered them.

Right now I don't know what to do with them. They are not in good shape to give them away, and I don't want to throw them away. It's so strange. I feel I am holding dead people in my hands. It hurts and I don't even know why. No, not dead people. Dead dreams.

I went online and found them in pristine condition. It's pointless to buy them again, even if I had the money, and I obviously can't undo the ravages of 30+ years of time. It's the nature of reality. But at least I can remember what they looked like when I was holding them in my hands and life had not crushed me in a hundred different ways and I was full of dreams bigger than life itself.

And I still hope. I don't dream as big as I dreamed back then, I don't hope in the same way, yet I hope. They didn't take that away from me. Not completely. And I know how hard they tried.

I don't expect others to understand why I upload these photos. But I need to do it. It's a form of apocatastasis. 

From Wikipedia: Apocatastasis (/æpoʊkəˈtæstəsɪs/, from Greek: ἀποκατάστασις, apokatástasis) is reconstitution, restitution,^[1] or restoration to the original or primordial condition.^[2]

Barbie Dream Glow 1984

Barbie Jewel Secrets 1985

 

Ken Jewel Secrets 1985

And perhaps the last Barbie doll I had ever bought. 1988 feeling fun Barbie. In 1988 I was ten years old.

Who would have thought one day they'd knock me flat on my ass...
(If you enjoy my content, please consider supporting what I do. Thank you.)

Christmas classics

"All right," said Susan. "I'm not stupid. You're saying humans need... fantasies to make life bearable."

"REALLY?" said Death. "AS IF IT WAS SOME KIND OF PINK PILL? NO. HUMANS NEED FANTASY TO BE HUMAN. TO BE THE PLACE WHERE THE FALLING ANGEL MEETS THE RISING APE."

"Tooth fairies? Hogfathers? Little—"

"YES. AS PRACTICE. YOU HAVE TO START OUT LEARNING TO BELIEVE THE LITTLE LIES."

"So we can believe the big ones?"

"YES. JUSTICE. MERCY. DUTY. THAT SORT OF THING."

"They're not the same at all!"

"YOU THINK SO? THEN TAKE THE UNIVERSE AND GRIND IT DOWN TO THE FINEST POWDER AND SIEVE IT THROUGH THE FINEST SIEVE AND THEN SHOW ME ONE ATOM OF JUSTICE, ONE MOLECULE OF MERCY. AND YET"—Death waved a hand. "AND YET YOU ACT AS IF THERE IS SOME IDEAL ORDER IN THE WORLD, AS IF THERE IS SOME... SOME RIGHTNESS IN THE UNIVERSE BY WHICH IT MAY BE JUDGED."

"Yes, but people have got to believe that, or what's the point—"

"MY POINT EXACTLY."

-Terry Pratchett, Hogfather

Merry Christmas/ Yule/ whatever celebration you celebrate to everyone! I hope you are all safe and in the company of the ones you love.

Maintenance in Lala land

He never gave up either, and he didn't begin with the same chances as the rest of us. Well, look at him now.

I've been working on this blog for three days now. I'm organising my labels. Labels are useful; they categorise together same theme entries. For example, there is a label called humour. If you click on it, you'll be shown all humorous entries I've ever written, no matter how old they are. This arrangement will help readers discover entries worth reading that have been buried in the backlog of ten years of blogging. I understand that people may like my writing but not have the time or inclination to read my entire blog. Hey, I am the writer and even I can't read my entire blog in one go. So there, I hope the label system helps. I am not done yet and don't know when I'll be done. I am going back and forth between posts and labels and it takes time. After three days of work I was glad to see there are many humorous entries, a lot more than I originally thought. Humour is a good way to deal with despair.

Work is slavery. The hours and workload are exhausting. I have no good memories from Christmas anyway and now I have an extra reason I dislike it; the hordes of barbarians who want to do last minute grocery shopping. I wouldn't have guessed how vital eggplants and prosciutto are, but it turns out they are extremely important elements of Christmas. Who am I to judge the priorities of others?

I've been trying to get in touch with people without luck. Months ago I chanced upon an old boyfriend of mine, the one I was with more than ten years ago. I was very happy to see him as we had a good time together and I'm fond of him. He seemed happy to see me too. We exchanged numbers to meet again for a catch up coffee. I've rung him several times. He doesn't pick up. I honestly wonder why he gave me his number if he doesn't want to talk to me. He gave me his Facebook too. Doesn't reply to messages there either. It's really frustrating. I don't know what kind of weird ideas he has concerning what I want, but I just wanted to see him and talk about trivial stuff. You know, see how he is. Tell him where I am and what I do. His behaviour perplexes and hurts me, especially since I never mistreated him and I am the opposite of clingy. But humans in general are beyond my humble comprehensive abilities. I don't spend too much time pondering what is wrong with them or why they behave the way they do. I did it in the past and it's completely useless. He has every right not to want to see me and he's not obliged to explain why. And I have every right to consider his behaviour inexplicable, rude and hurtful. Then I eat chocolate and get some extra sleep because I am very tired and life goes on. What else to do? I mean yes, sure, I want to grab him by the lapels and shake him and yell at him "what the hell is wrong with you? I just wanted to chat!". Since he's unavailable, I shrug and move on. It doesn't have to do with me, but with him, and consequently there's nothing I can do.

Today I came across someone I liked years ago. Another 'what if' story that never took place. He moved to another city because he was accepted in university just as I was wondering if I should make a move. He looks as startlingly handsome as always. As per usual, I looked like shit. :D It's a joke how I always meet the ones I like when I look my worst. Then again, I don't know if that is the real reason I haven't had a relationship since Noah started building that boat. I don't think it is. In a similar manner to the previous subject, I shrugged and moved on. I'm tired. I don't what the real problem is. I never did and probably never will. These things are best left to chance when actual effort proves futile. Then again, chance has proved to be as futile as effort in my case. I just don't know, and it's not important. Yes, it hurts. It never ceases to hurt how I find myself as the victim or the spectator to happenings in my life, but I am trying to leave the martyrdom role behind. I want to keep myself happy. I have several books to read and stories of my own to daydream about. Since both effort and lack of effort bring the same result, I can only daydream, work hard and not think too much. Thinking leads straight into despair. 

I hope the new year will bring some long expected results of my hard work. And I hope I'll prove several people wrong. Living a good life is the best revenge one can get. I am angry enough to fantasise about not picking up my phone when I am better and they call me, but not petty enough to actually do it if it ever happens.

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

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.

 

New year is here...

...and all the old troubles are hanging from my butt like a bizarre tail. Or tale, if you'd rather.

I have a cold. I am coughing and donating mucus in hankies like there is a special challenge and the biggest donation gets an award. Judging by my production, the award will be a golden nose on a mini pedestral. This year from the summer onwards I have been sick three times already. This is not usual. The money situation is shit and I get stressed on a daily basis, trying to make ends meet. As a result, my immune system has all but given up the spirit. You'll tell me, don't get stressed, it's not helping you any. You think I don't know this?

I am trying to make my mood better by making pretty things with my hands and studying kanji as if there is no tomorrow. You should really be able to see me sticking ribbons and confetti and sparkly thingies in photos while listening to Amon Amarth, Lamb of God, Dir en Grey and Cavalera Conspiracy. It's appropriate. Half of the time, I also accidentally stick my hair on the photo or stick sequins on my hair, and when I am done crafting I look like a person mistaken for a Christmas tree. Other than that, I am watching about one movie every night. God/dess knows what got into me. I think I am trying to keep my sanity in place. I am not even sure if there is such a quality about my person anymore in order to keep it there but I try.

Then I watch youtube videos with inconspicuous Japanese singers shaking their hips and licking microphones. Bad, bad, very bad. Especially if the singers in question have this outstanding face with the super wicked eyebrows, killer cheekbones and really long, narrow, evil snake eyes. And they do all these... um... affectations to no-one in particular. Then it's not difficult to imagine they come to your bed late at night and they give you this long, sensual, detailed massage. And just as you have turned into a mass of goo they fuck you blind, deaf and in multiple other ways challenged. Oh yes. Someone please. And that someone in particular, certainly yes please.

I also discovered I am married to Silvia, one of my oldest (female) penpals after accepting a request she sent me in Facebook. Good. She's a really beautiful and talented young woman and being married to her is very flattering. Too bad she lives in Germany, otherwise I might have tried to take advantage of the situation. Heh. I can see me, coughing like a sick dog and with two tampons stuck up my nostrils to block the constant flow, trying to seduce her. It would be a smashing success. And then her boyfriend would enter the scene and things would quickly get out of hand. Things would also get out of their appointed places and quickly enter in other places, and I am not referring to the tampons. :-DDD

Other than that, here is the link for the BEAUTIFUL dresses and gothic/period clothes my friend Silvia makes. Her work is fantastic, she speaks English and can take orders as well. You ask for it, she makes it.

http://www.kostuemgeschichten.de

Have a great new year everyone!

The one who put "ass" in "Christmas".

Christmas makes me depressed. Me, and half of the world's population, I think.

Today I was going through some old stationery that I have. Korean stationery, in manga style. An old pen-pal had sent it to me back in 1997. The beauty of those pieces of paper is unbelievable. The colours, the compositions, the way both sexes are depicted. That's why I have kept them for so long while I have given away so many others. I have even lost contact with the girl who sent them. It once more made realise what I am looking for when buying Asian comics and art as well as music by Asian bands. The illusion of perfection. Pretty men dressed in loose lovely clothes together with beautiful women, enjoying the sunset or spending time relaxing. But this perfection I am looking for doesn't exist. People are more stressed than ever, they don't look like this and usually run from one job to the other while their parents babysit the kids. They also smell bad, fart, get sick with diarrhea, have wrinkles, terrible taste in clothes and girlfriends/ boyfriends, extra kilos, lisps, are cross-eyed, moronic, boring, stubborn and as for the idyllic places the stationery depicts, the entire earth is polluted beyond measure.

I am getting sick of the way the human mind works. Always wanting more, more, more. Never being happy with what we have. I suppose I can understand why we're made this way; we're supposed to be continually looking for ways to improve our situation, learn more things, apply the knowledge to gain even more experience.

Yeeeeeah, RIGHT. All I see is people who refuse to grasp the basics. And though they struggle with the basics their entire lives, they whine "more, more, more" like hysterical, spoiled children. Until the day they are dying, and they are dying complaining they did not get to live. As if someone else made the decisions for them and they weren't there when their life was happening. And I want to smack their stupid heads and bruise them "more, more, more". Hmph. My usual misanthropic mood; pay me no heed.

If I ever manage to go to Japan I'll make sure I turn my back into a fucking tapestry of tattoos. Oh, and here's the conversation I had with my mother on the matter of tattoos:

My mother: "Your tattoos are all... black."

Me: "Yeah, I know. The next ones will have more colour."

My mother on the verge of a breakdown: "What?! You are going to have MORE???"

Me: "Yeah, quite a few."

My mother: "Wait till you get married and then you have some more." (She is obviously afraid no man will marry me because I have tattoos. And unless I get married, I am not a 'proper' Greek woman. *facepalm*)

Me: "You are turning into such an idiotic example of a prim and proper moron of the middle class. Who gave you any kind of guarantee that my future husband will have no tattoos?"

My mother spends a few moments considering this devastating possibility. Finally, when she manages to speak again, she tells me:

"But I don't like men with tattoos."

Me: "Well then, if he proposes you, turn him down."

ARGH! Remind me again what we need parents for?

PS:

Actual order of things happening now:

Eating pralines, writing on my blog, and sharing my bed with my two cats while listening to Dir en Grey.

Preferred order of things:

Eating pralines, writing on my blog about my two cats while sharing my bed with Dir en Grey.

Very wrong order of things:

Eating Dir en Grey, writing to my pralines about my two cats, while sharing my bed with my blog.

Surreal order of things:

My pralines eating Dir en Grey on my bed while my blog writes to my cats recipes on how to cook Japanese rock stars. (Eat the motherfuckers raw, they taste better.)