A Bunch of Lies

I am (unsurprisingly) totally unmotivated. Again!
This time it is not only the fact that I am (still) sitting by the computer with an arduous translation task mockingly grinning back at me. No. It's more than that.

I feel like what is written all over the pages are blatant lies, or at the very least extremely liberate reformulations of the truth. Not only do I lack the motivation to translate, my mind is practically screaming at me not to feed the world these lies...

It's this dilemma that currently has my insides twisted into a disgusting knot of anxiety and general discomfort. I just want to scream, throw my mouse into a wall, and storm out into the fresh air!

How to Reinvigorate a Tired Head?

You sit in an uncomfortable chair, at a too high desk, for hours and hours at an end, staring bleary-eyed at a dimly illuminated computer screen. Sounds familiar?
This, currently, is my every day (and probably many others', too), and let me tell you, I am not cut out for office work. If anything this experience has thought me that.

Staring at a computer screen all day long, while trying my best to translate complicated text from Japanese into English has caused my brain to overload. It's mush, I tell you. Furthermore, this in combination with the lack of fresh air and natural light seems to have crushed my spirit. It's been pounded to dust, just like pepper corns in a mortar.

It's funny how I can game for endless hours at a time, or write stories all night, without experiencing the same symptoms I do when I work. Then again, gaming and writing is something I do for entertainment, work, on the other hand, is not. I really think I'm one of those persons who work best in short burst, especially when a computer is involved (as I don't find physical work to be as grating). My efficiency today, while not a solid 0, is not much higher either (the same trend as previous days).

So how do I reinvigorate my poor dead head? Well, I secretly blog during working hours, off course. Well, if I had a proper job and proper pay I might be slightly less rebellious, perhaps even orderly, but as this is not the case I have no hard feelings for my behaviour. There is also no love lost between me and my boss, and I suppose this fuels my anarchistic streak.

I still work, just not as efficiently (10 hour + workdays tend to cause such problems).

It's amazing, though, what a simple few minutes of recreational writing can do to your mood. Mine, at the very least. It's the nectar my brain has been craving all day. I also write secret stories, and draw secret self-portraits. Oh, and secretly play some utterly senseless mobile games. Also, any excuse to go outdoors (man, fresh air is underappreciated!), or to the kitchen, is valid. I think I've never been this happy to have dinner-duty....

Only a few more hours till it no longer will be unacceptable if I start making dinner prep, so maybe some secret youtubeing (mixed in with some proper work, of course) and I can head into the kitchen. Thai chicken and bean chocolate-chip biccies on the menu today :)

secret self-portrait 1.2

secret self-portrait 2.2

Lose Yourself

At times I really feel like I'm losing it. As if I'm just steps from going crazy.
Right now is such a period.
I know why, I just can't do anything about it. Not yet.
I will, but for now I just have to wait it out.

I feel so restricted. Stripped of the freedom I used to have.
I can't act out, I can't be myself....and it's all very tiring.
Normally I would turn to my standard form of escapism, gaming,
But... have access to 0 gaming consoles :(
Writing is also a good way to escape reality.
But, quite frankly, lately I'm just too tired and pressed for time to make time for writing every day,
And it sucks. It really does.

Lately I've drowned myself in music instead.
Plug in my earphones, sit on the windowsill, close my eyes and loose myself to my inner world.
It works surprisingly well.
I'll even admit to dancing around the house if (and only IF) no one else is around,
Like tonight, while brushing my teeth, I listened to Can't Hold Us as sung by Pentatonix, and I couldn't help shaking my body a little. It made me so upbeat. They're talented people, so if you have not, you should really give them a listen.

One day I was feeling totally down, like I had walked straight into a wall.
When surrounded by the people I am (one person more like it) this is bound to happen once in a while...Anyways, I knew I was feeling awful, but I felt unable to confront it. I wanted nothing to do with it, and so it all just grew into this great bundle of pent up anger and frustration that kept me from sleeping.
That's when I happened to come across "Phantasm" by Jesper Kyd. I don't know why, but it cut through all my defences. It was pure, raw, and forced its way in without me having a say in the matter. It stripped me bare until I couldn't hide from my emotions, and I had to no choice but to acknowledge and deal with them. Unsurprisingly I felt better afterwards. If you haven't, do go listen to it. It is a beautiful experience definitely worth 3 and a half minutes of your time.

Music is awesome.
When I have none, it gives me strength.
When I feel unable, it helps me confront my feelings.
When I have to put on an act all day, it gives me a world where I can be free at night.
If I'm going to lose myself, I'll lose myself to music.

I Now Get Why People in Horror Movies Fall When Chased

Who isn't familiar with the cliché of the poor victims of horror movies falling flat on the ground, for no obvious reason, during chase scenes? Up until recently this seemed like a totally absurd thing, even to me. However, in light of recent events, I have realised that I am, sadly, no better at running than these characters...

It so happened that I was walking back home a rather gloomy night. I am currently living on the Japanese countryside, and I had been visiting some friends who live about a 5 to 10 minute walk from the place I am staying at. I often go to their house, and during the last few weeks on my way home I have had the misfortune to cross paths with a rather big-sized wild boar, and while it's never actually charged straight at me it has been slightly aggressive in its behaviour. Because of this my nerves were already in a jumble, and just to be on the safe side I had decided to take a slightly longer route back home, simply in order to avoid this beast.  

Of course it didn't work out quite like I had planned, because this wild boar had apparently made tormenting me its goal in life. 

As I am rather confidently walking on by, still on high alert because of previous evenings but calmer now that I had found an alternative way home, there's sudden rustling in the bushes. My heart starts to beat like crazy and for a fraction of a second I freeze; my ears attuned to catch even the slightest indication of movement in my direction. And of course it's moving towards me, and fast. And of course it has to be the wild boar, poking its ugly head out of the tall grass...

I just set off running like mad. I was totally overtaken by my instincts, and my brain was screaming loud and clear: you have to flee!!! The problem was that my legs couldn't quite keep up with the speed I was trying to make them function at. Now here my memory gets slightly fuzzy, and I can't really remember in which order these events happened, but the following took place. 

- I realised the boar was still after me.

- There was a sudden shift in the terrain, a dip in the road I think. 

- All strength from my legs evaporated, and they became useless pieces of meat that could not keep up with the momentum of my upper body, causing me to lose balance and topple over. I was running with my phone in one hand, so I couldn’t even soften my fall properly (because protecting my phone was way, way more important than any bodily harm that could be inflicted upon my person when falling on hard asphalt while running at high speed... Never realised how scarily attached I am to that piece of junk...). But, really, it was like a mini-paralysis had taken place in my legs, and they just couldn't do as I commanded. 

- I saw the wild boars eyes shimmer in the dark.

- I quickly scrambled up and continued running. 

I have seriously probably never been that frightened in whole my life. Not even when facing what has probably been more dangerous situations in my previous line of work. As a security guard I still felt like I had more control, and I was dealing with humans. Here it was a wild animal, and I was alone and defenceless. Excellent factors for breeding fear. 

But yeah, I kind of understand how you can fall even though there is no apparent reason for falling. Fear can do that to you. So, on that point, I can relate to horror movie victims. Yet, quickly getting up again to pursue the vital task of fleeing took place in the blink of an eye. Yes, I almost had to force my legs into action with sheer willpower during the first few steps (not because of the pain but because they still felt kind of paralysed), but my need and want for survival took care of that I somehow still got away, and fast. 

All in all, what I want to say is that it's not totally unlikely that a horror movie victims falls during a chase. However, I do think it's an overused cliché, and if/when you fall it does not take years to get of the ground nor is it very likely that you'll topple over again only minutes later. I think the adrenaline more than well takes care of that. Personally I couldn't sleep for hours. 

Thinking of the incident now I have come to the conclusion that I was probably never in any actual life threatening danger. A more likely scenario is that both I and the wild boar were simply unlucky enough to flee in the same direction, but that fear...it really clouded my judgement. It's frightening to think of.

This certain brand of fear will definitely be etched into my mind for years to come, of that I am sure. 

Bird

A very common word - bird.

Yet, this is a word that already has a multitude of established associations.

It makes it difficult for me to associate freely.

My mind, incessantly, gets ensnared in notions such as freedom, peace, death and sacrifice.

That's the degree of influence society holds over us. 

Although I've never really paid it much mind before, I now find it somewhat unsettling... 

It's like mind control.

All this from a simple word - bird. 

Inn

So, as I am sure everyone can tell only one week has passed since I last posted here.... *cough, cough*

Well, anyways. Today's word is inn.

Somehow, whenever I hear the word inn, I immediately think 'fantasy'. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings with it's The Prancing Pony or RPGs like Dragon Age, Skyrim or the likes. Inns whichever way you look, almost.

These are all good and nice associations, and I am glad they still top what next comes into mind. Namely, one summer I spent a few weeks working at this horrible Bed and Breakfast... And when I say horrible I really mean it.

The location was beautiful enough. It felt close to nature and was great for talking walks and such. The house, not an inn but close enough, was in an extremely bad state though. Even to the point where I'd call it health hazardous... I still shudder when I think back at that house. And the owner, well, he was no better.

Nowadays I can look back at my time there and laugh, but at the time it was not so much fun. There was absolutely nothing of the homely coziness that I, in my fantasy-infused mind, associate with inns, and it was even worse than those bawdy, noisy inns that also pop up here and there in the fantasy genre.

With that I shall wrap up my reminiscences about past work-experiences, and also bring this blog-post to an end.

Inn and out!

Pen

There are about a million and five things I could write about upon seeing the word pen.
But, as I am busy I will keep it simple.

Pens made me think of drawing, something I do whenever I can find the time to spare.
I also enjoy water-colouring. And, as I'm sure some users of watercolours also have done, I have made the infamous mistake of drinking the water I use to clean the brushes... Blergh!
It's funny how your brain can short-circuit in that way.

Anyways, this leads me to today's subject, which is kind of similar.

I was drinking beer from a glass, which I usually don't, but it was a large can and in order to keep it cold I opted for a glass while keeping the can in the refrigerator. So, eventually I finished my large can of beer and decided to drink some water. So I filled the glass with water, drank some of it, and replaced the glass to were I usually keep it (stupidly just next to my laptop).

After a while I found myself craving more beer, and having anticipated this possibility I had also purchased a small can of beer in addition to the large one. This time I chose to drink straight out of the can.

Well, placing the can (stupidly) next to my computer I continued working on my current project. The time ticked by and soon I found it was time for another mouthful of beer, so I grab the glass and drank. I drank a few mouthfuls, as a matter of fact, before I noticed it was water. I thought it tasted kind of bland and not so bubbly, but not until I actually swallowed a few mouthfuls did it occur to me I was drinking water...

I mean, how dense is my brain?

Heh, somehow I find it all quite funny.

Balcony

So, the word of the day is balcony... When I saw this I almost instantaneously regretted my 'oh so amazing' idea from the other day. However, I shall stay true to my word (stupid though as it might have been to agree to write about basically anything) and see this through. So, let's see how this works out.

To me balconies can be either invigorating or extremely confining.

My first instinct was to say that this depended on the view - beautiful landscapes equal invigoration and urban milieus stand for the confinement - but the more I thought about it the more I came to realise that this wasn't the case at all. I mean, the view from my balcony is anything but breathtaking. It's just cars, some trees, a road and a couple of tower blocks - nothing all too special in other words. Still, I like being out there.

So, perhaps what I find important is not actually the view but rather the balcony itself.

I like balconies to have a small space for me to sit down with my thoughts. A place where I can quietly observe the world below without being a direct part of it. As long as I have this I couldn't care less whether it's a lake, a forest, a highway or a bunch of semi-detached houses that I'm resting my eyes on. Every place has it's own story to tell. Anything can be inspirational.

A confining balcony on the other hand, well... think of it as a lump of concrete slabbed onto a wall, and so small you can barely stand out there... Not too enticing if you ask me... I mean, I just don't see the point of such a balcony as a window would fill precisely the same purpose.

No, balconies should be like a breath of fresh air where I can drink my coffee in peace.

Me and the world - separated and yet so close...

So Much Frustration

It feels like ages since I wrote here last time.

Why?

Well, it's been ages. 

I don't even want to look at my last blog post in order to check the date. 

That's how long it's been. 

My New Year's resolution will be to write more, I think. 

Since we're already discussing the topic of writing, let me continue elaborating on that. My current frustration is rooted in writing, you see, or rather in my incapability of doing so.

I'm just bubbling and bustling with inspiration, and it wants out! However, I have a distinct lack of ideas, or, so I tell myself. But, that is a lie! I have plenty of ideas, but these are not what I feel like writing at the moment, and I'm the kind of person who needs to feel in order to write. 

I have this great idea, but it's just beyond my reach. I can almost taste it, sense it vaguely, and I've already made three attempts on capturing it. But no, it just keeps slipping through my fingers. Escaping my mind every time I make an approach. Thus, the inspiration has been unable to work itself out of my system and has slowly turned into frustration. And let me tell you, frustration-turned-inspiration is horrible. 

My first attempt depicted a person with a burnt face standing in the soothing rain. The raindrops tasted of salt and iron. 

My second attempt told about a slave whose collar grew tighter and tighter (if this was figuratively or literally I'm not sure). The slave was suffering, wondering in desperation how this had happened to them - they had always been a very cherished slave - all while their master towered above them, laughing maliciously at the slave's naïvety.

My third attempt turned out describing fingers playing with snow that was warm (or alternatively the one playing with the snow was immune to the cold). 

But that's all that came out of my rather lengthy (attempted) writing session. 

I know the most important thing about writing isn't producing solid text all the time, but all the unspent inspiration inside me has coiled into a big, gnawing lump that I cannot get rid of. And it is extremely frustrating. I cannot sleep, I cannot think clearly, I cannot concentrate on anything else because of that untouched creativity deposit. 

Sigh.

At least one good thing came out of this. If anything this has made me more determined than ever to keep on writing, and I'll try to improve as a blogger as well. However, I wonder if I need a theme, something that would be the main focus of my blog. Perhaps this would make it easier to keep writing regularly. The only problem is, I have no idea what kind of theme to pick... So, please, all and any suggestions are very welcome and will be considered as possible themes for this blog from here on now. 

black - grey - white

evil - neutral - good

the basic elements of most books and films

who do you side with?

i have no idea why, but i have a tendency of liking the wrong side - the evil one that is

i simply find evil characters more intriguing, even appealing

no, not in real life, but in literature particularly

i don't know why, but it always turns out like that

even in cases where i don't know that a certain character will later turn out to be evil

evil is forbidden, thus it's interesting

at least that is how i justify my hunger for evil characters

they can stretch the rules of morality to their liking

they lack (or posses?) something that normal characters do not

face it

without the antagonists books and films would, in many cases, be plain boring

there is however one big flaw in siding with the "wrong" guys

it's wrong - so they will never (or extremely rarely) win

they'll be eliminated

erased

such greatness to waste

perhaps, in a way, that is the charm of the wicked characters

and yet, occasionally, i do find myself longing for a change

a story - not horror - where the antagonist comes out at the top

because after years of seeing my favourite characters getting eliminated i'm starting to find it tiresome

the norm doesn't need to be changed

but i want just a slight diversion from the norm

just once in a while

....

my advise to you all:

do not fall for the "evil ones" if you aren't prepared to deal with a lot of sorrow and disappointment

ok, i might be exaggerating just a tiny bit

we're talking about fictional works after all

who dies and lives is just fiction

but still

as a change i'd love to read something where my favourite character doesn't die

luckily, from time to time, i favour characters other than the malicious ones 

ironically though

when the character i prefer is not a sinister one

in 9 cases out of 10

that person will end up dying anyway

i'm not even joking

i think someone is secretly trying to make fun of me

well, at least now

after 20+ years on earth

i am always prepared for the death of my favourite character

no matter the genre and no matter the character's disposition

i wonder...

is this punishment for finding the dark side in fictional works attractive?

good couldn't exist without it's counterpart anyway

so then, why is liking evil such a taboo?

i wonder, i really do...

Time, Art Thou My Friend or Foe?

My last post, to my horror, was in October last year... and it feels like yesterday!!
What have I accomplished since, you may ask, and I will answer.
Now that we are living several months into the future you'd think I surely must have done something, but no. Nothing. Nothing even remotely significant at least, which in a way is quite depressive.

Time flies. It really does, and I don't like it one bit.

When is my 5 minutes of fame ever going to come??
Well, at the pace I'm living my life at the moment, the answer is most likely never. Again, very depressive. Then again, this is probably true for most people, me included.
But hey, it doesn't stop me dreaming of possibilities far beyond my reach. It's living with those delusions in mind I survive my boringly routine day-to-day life - especially now, after the school start.

Time, my dear friend, why can't you slow down just for my sake? Just freeze for a month or two, or perhaps four. If you did I'd be forever grateful (or at least for a while), I promise!

How I wouldn't like to finish all the games I'm currently playing, not to mention all the books I'm reading. I'm not even sure how many I am in the middle of reading at the moment... probably too many though. I'd also want to practice drawing, so I could get better and be able to draw awesome pictures. And, I also need more time to finish writing down the millions and millions of story-ideas that pop up in my head at a relatively regular pace, not to mention my older stories that are still in need of some touching up... If I only had more time I'd also spend hours playing and cuddling with my cats, even more than I do now, I could dedicate a whole day to them. Not to forget, I'd practice kendo everyday too, so that I could improve my development. I would even finish all of my school work!! All this, if I only had more time...

But, I don't.... And for the coming 6 months, I wont have this sort of leisure at my hands either...
My schedule looks something like: work, school, school work, sleep, eat, cleaning, evening-school, books, research, work practice, school, cats, thesis, cooking, hobby, raging at computer, writing reports etc, etc. Not much time for any extra fun in other words... Sometimes I wonder if my nerves will manage to deal with all the stress this coming half a year will cause me, but I suppose only time will tell...

Something tells me though, that my so-called dear friend time will turn a deaf ear to my wishes of freezing time for a while, even though I so badly would need a breather, even if just a short one... (note that I'm saying this already on the first day of school...)

Seriously, how do people have time to do everything they want, and still manage to do everything they have to? If anyone has a solution please share it with me, because I want to know... I need to know!!

(a nagging voice in the back of my head tells me it is impossible to reach such a heavenly state of being, where you'd actually have time to do everything and anything, but I'm going to keep ignoring it as long as I live... After all, ignorance is bliss, sometimes)

Until next time, whenever that may be!

Sleep Paralysis

This post is going to discuss sleep paralysis, and just not any sleep paralysis but the very one that I experienced!

It happened a fair number of nights ago, during a period I was very busy at school and therefore had a serious lack of proper sleep. I was literally getting about 2 to 3 hours of sleep per night for a week. It wasn't that I didn't want to sleep, but sleep did just not come to me. Maybe I was too stressed out, however, that's beside the point.

I always lie on my side when I sleep. Preferably my rights side, facing the wall. That is the way sleep comes to me the easiest. But, this night, for some reason, maybe because I had trouble falling asleep, I had chosen to lie on my left side. The last thing I remember from before falling asleep was looking at the alarm clock next to my bed, and panicking as it turned out to be about 3:20 am. Shortly after that sleep must have invaded my mind.

It all started out with a nightmare.

I was lying in a bed in a room that had two big windows. The special thing about this room was that the windows were not facing the outdoors, but the view they offered me was that of a corridor and many other rooms similar to the one I was sleeping in. It kind of reminded me of a classroom or something. Well, anyway, as I was lying in bed, about to fall asleep, I could hear a voice call out to me, which was a bit freaky in itself as I'm quite sure there was no one but me in this room.

"Aya tulee" it said. (It is Finnish for "Aya is coming")

Instantly I knew that Aya was the name of a ghost, and even though the dream me did not believe in such supernatural phenomena something coaxed me to lift my head and look at the empty corridors on the other side of the big windows. To my horror I noticed how the fluorescent lamps in the corridor, one after another, flickered and went dark. What was even worse was that the solid blackness was slowly working its way towards my room. Dream me got terrified and shutting my eyes tight I pressed my head towards the pillow and wrapped the covers tighter around my body. Then I just waited.

Eventually the darkness reached my room, and all of a sudden it felt like a significant drop in temperature. I could feel a presence, and I knew it was otherworldly. And it got worse! The creature/ghost/being, whatever it was, crawled up on my bed and finally settled down on top of me. Lying on my side I felt a distinct pressure in the area of my waist, just as if someone would be sitting on top of me. And, as if this wasn't enough, moments later I could feel a large palm press down on the right side of my face, forcing it lower down, crushing it deep into my pillow.

This is when I woke up. I remember opening my eyes and staring out at my own, real room. Naturally it was quite dark, as it was in the middle of the night, but I clearly remember seeing my desk, located just next to my bed. And I remember being utterly grateful I could see no more, because whatever it was that had crawled on top of me in my dream was still sitting there, holding me down, pushing my head towards my pillow.

I freaked out! Someone was sitting on top of me, pressing me down. I couldn't move. It felt as if my head would be crushed against my pillow, and the hand, because it really felt like a palm of a hand, just pushed down with more and more force. I felt a presence in my room, and I was convinced that it was not a good type of presence but that something was seriously out to harm me. My initial reaction was to scream, and I did, but, nothing came out. Well not a scream at least. It sounded more like a muffled wail. The pressure on my head was constantly growing in power, I could feel my heart beat frantically in my chest, and I'm sure I could hear deep, rugged breathing from somewhere above my head. I was so grateful though, that I wasn't facing upwards, but lying on my side, because it was only this that prevented me from seeing what my attacker looked like.

It must have been only about half a minute after I woke up that I started to regain my calm. It had been roughly half a year since I discussed sleep paralysis with both my friends and my brother, and as I was lying there it somehow struck me that this must be what all this horribleness is about. Sleep paralysis. As soon as this thought had travelled through my head the pressure slowly, but steadily, began to lessen and I started being able to move the fingers of the hand located under my pillow. It didn't take long until I was completely "free".

Even if I did realise it was sleep paralysis it took a good while to convince myself of that there no longer was an evil spirit in my room. I think what finally convinced me was that my cat was still sleeping peacefully in the same spot as he had before, and I was sure that he would have reacted if something bad had actually visited me. So I calmed a bit, picked up the one of my two pillows which had fallen to the floor, patted my cat and had a look at the time. 4:43 am. I hadn't slept but for an hour. I was dead tired, but too scared to fall asleep. I lay in bed for quite a while, trying to force my eyes to stay open even though they grew heavier by the second, threatening to fall close the moment I stopped concentrating on them. I couldn't get the previous experience out of my head and I was scared something similar would happen to me, were I to fall asleep thinking of it.

In the end I must have fallen asleep because the next time I opened my eyes my room was bright and the clock was already 9. The memories of what had happened were still crystal clear though, even now they remain extremely vivid.

Nothing has "visited" me since that one night, and thinking back at it I find it rather an interesting experience. However, once is enough! To tell the truth, some nights I'm still a little worried I might experience a sleep paralysis again, so I make sure to sleep on my right side, facing the wall.

Bittersweet Creativity

Creativity...how boring wouldn't life be without it?

I often ponder upon this question...

The answer is fairly simple though; life would be pretty damn boring without it!

Creativity, I guess, can show itself in many forms... Books, music, inventions, buildings, films, art, etc. The list probably has no end. So, when thinking about it, human life wouldn't be as we know it, were it not for creativity. Perhaps there would be no significant human life at all!

Creativity is wonderful.
It is, at least for me, a way to escape the daily, often stressful, life and dive into a world of marvel and wonder. A way to dream myself away; far, far, far away from the world as I know it. To just let go of my worries, and let them flow out on a blank sheet of paper in front of me...

It is very...relieving.

However, with great power comes great risk. How many awful things has not creativity lured the human race to invent and initiate?

Weapons, war, destruction...

Maybe we are not fit to handle the full power of creativity yet, not completely, and maybe we never will be...
Creativity seems to be unquenchable; even if we know better the drive and curiosity to create may lead us astray.

Yet, I would never give up creativity.   

All good things have their drawbacks, but this doesn't mean we shouldn't utilise what has been given to us. That, if something, would be stupid.
One has only to pay attention to how the gift one has been bestowed with is put to use. What can be used to destroy can also be used to save, and vice-versa, the choice is in the hands of the wielder. This is a case true for creativity as well.

Creativity is also something we all experience, at all ages. I recently found myself thinking of the comics I drew as a kid. The plots were extremely naïve and simple, filled with childish humour. But, the idea behind them and the simplicity itself really strike me as amazing today. I could never create like that anymore. Never make such an easy and everyday thing into an interesting story.
Even though my mind is still mine I cannot use it in the same way I once did, which in a way feels like a significant loss...
On the other hand I am sure I have gained plenty of new aspects and benefits to my thinking, but the creativity I once possessed is no longer with me...

The simplicity has been replaced with complexity...

As I sat here, writing, I suddenly got into the mood of creating. And, because the theme of this post is creativity, I decided to incorporate whatever creation I made.
I am no poet, so I don't know whether this qualifies as a poem, but it's my brain's response to Lunatic Soul's Where The Darkness Is Deepest. The music gives me shivers; it is looming and eerie, and yet so filled with emotions...

The Whisper

A voice that whispers sweetly, 

Murmurs in my ear,

A stream of tickling, hot air

A scream of desperation, 

Echoes in the dark,

A chorus of sad, desolate pleading

Pale fingers flexing slowly,

Clenching around my neck,

A lack of precious, essential breath

A vision growing blurry, 

A life that fades away,

A sound forever muffled,

.

.

.

The whisper was; farewell

The Irony...

You know those days when you just sit at home, doing absolutely nothing?
Aren't those days nice and relaxing?
I think so.
However, they don't seem as enticing anymore, not when experiencing them consecutively.

Ever since my vacation started I have been doing nothing!
It's not as if I wouldn't want to be creative, but the drive to write has left me.
Or rather, it's blocked.
Writer's block.

I have loads of material and ideas for stories, but to write them on paper seems impossible.
So, I'm hoping this post will somehow kick-start my urge to write again.

I just find it rather ironical that it is only after I got free time on my hands that this writer's block started.
When I was supposed to write my thesis I seemed to have no problem whatsoever to get sidetracked.
Maybe my urge to write stems from an urge of not wanting to deal with more tedious tasks.
I don't know.

But, being unable to write is slowly, but surely, driving me insane.
That is why I am going to do something radical.
I am going to start working on my thesis again, despite being on brake.
Anything, as long as it will help me out of this downswing.

But the irony of this situation...
To think I always thought that once I had vacation I'd be able to complete so many unfinished projects...

Writing on Writing

Why is some writing so much harder to do than other?

This is a perfect question to ask myself as I am currently writing this text, which is not the text I should technically be dedicating all my time to (my thesis)...

OK, let's be fair. The most probable reason that comes to mind is motivation, or lack thereof. The thing is though, I feel quite motivated to write my thesis, because I want it done and I even have plenty of things I could write. Yet, somehow, I cannot but stare at my almost empty word document, unable to type in even a single sentence that would make sense. Why?
Furthermore, I don't feel particularly prompted to write this either, but somehow the word just keep flowing out of my brain, effortlessly.

This brings us to the second most likely reason, the amount of effort it takes to write a certain text. Writing a thesis is, without question, a tedious and time-consuming process. From time to time it even makes you feel as if a simple click on the delete button could offer you salvation from all your problems (I'm sure I'd regret it the exact same second I clicked the button though, if I was ever to go through with such an act; literal suicide, as my brother called it).
On the other hand, as I am an active story writer, and write something almost every day, background research and spell-checking should be something I am used to. As a matter of fact, I don't even dislike it that much. Plus, I do have an honest and keen interest in my thesis topic, so why is it so hard?

A third reason that pops into mind is distractions. Oh, there is a multitude of things I'd rather do than write this one assignment. Play video games, work on my own stories, watch movies, take a walk, draw, you name it! I'd do just about anything else and yet, simultaneously, I want to write my thesis and wish I had the same drive to do it, but I don't... Why though?
I have even gone to such an extent where I have promised myself not to do any of the things I want, not until my thesis is finished. And, to most part I have actually kept this promise, but still, I make no progress... It's quite horrible really...

A fourth, and final, reason I can think of is the fact that I am "forced" to write the thesis. However, ultimately, it's really all in my hands. No one is actually making me write my thesis; I do it because I want to graduate. I do it for my own sake, in a similar manner to all my other writing, so why is it only the thesis that causes me such problems???

Maybe this is just a phase everyone has to go through when working on a major project...
I don't know, but I wish it will become clearer with time.... I really hope it will...

A Fleeting Moment

From time to time I get utterly and completely enchanted by the beauty of the world. Just for a fleeting moment, triggered by the most everyday things, I get flabbergasted by the extraordinary planet we live on.

This very evening was such an occasion.


I was standing, casually, with my cat on the balcony and looking out at the scenery down below. Now, I live in the city centre, so there isn't much nature around, which only further adds to the sensation of being seduced by the smallest of nature's wonders.

Even though it was almost 11 pm it was still light and because of the heat spell we have experienced lately the air was nice and pleasant. A slight, refreshing breeze caressed my skin once in a while and my cat also seemed to enjoy it as we stood there, leaning out of the balcony window, observing the quiet spring evening.


Then, all of a sudden, the chirp of a large bird caught both mine and my cat's attention, and for a split second the world seemed to change into a place of incredible capacity. A place filled with marvel and amazement.

The wind on my face, the dust dancing in the air, the bird soaring in the sky; for a brief moment it all felt magical, as if the phenomena would be without natural explanations. Even my cat, who is terrified of the outside world, seemed temporarily charmed by the planet Earth and tried to leap out of my lap. Then again, maybe he was just enthralled by the large bird.

And then, before I could blink my eyes, it was all over. The world was back to normal. The cars were buzzing along the highway, my neighbours were laughing on the balcony next to mine and my cat wriggled out of my hold and headed back inside.

But that one moment, that one fleeting, brief period of time, the world, to me, was truly magical.


Every once in a while I feel like this, and every single time I am utterly amazed by the degree to which I can be enchanted by the surroundings I spend every day in. Yet, I am very glad I am able to experience moments like this, and  that I once in a while can spot beauty in normality. It enriches my day and gives me new energy. It is almost as if the world would recharge my batteries, and to think it knew I needed a recharge today...