Gender Bender

Поредната история с Миш.

Малко контекст: той се събужда към 6-6:30 сутринта. Вече е достатъчно самостоятелен да се оправи с тоалетната, да се измие, да си вземе нещо за ядене от хладилника и да си пусне "Ледена епоха" на видеото. Правилният филм за сезона, няма спор. (Любимата му плюшена играчка в момента е един бял слон, който той нарича "мамут". Дали ще играе Syberia като сестра си като порасне?:) През това време аз спя, докато не звънне будилникът към 8 без нещо. Оправяме се и изчезваме на градина.

Та вчера на излизане с потрес забелязвам, че моят бъдещ юнак си е лакирал ноктите. Аз се лакирам от дъжд на вятър и предната вечер бях извадила един лак и го бях оставила на плота в кухнята. Не можах да си намеря синия, само светлорозовия.

Гледам и не вярвам на очите си.
- Абе, Михаиле, какво е това?
- Имам гланц!
- Това не е гланц, а лак! Мъжете не си слагат лак! Лакът е женски!
(Леко истеричната нотка, която се усеща, е съвсем правилно усетена.)
- А къде ни е мъжкият лак? - невинно пита той.

Тука аз млъкнах и го заведох на градина. Наистина не знаех какво да кажа. "Лакирането на ноктите при мъжете не е еволюционно оправдано" не ми се видя подходящо.

Нямам думи, с които да обясня на тригодишния си син защо някои работи са "женски", а други "мъжки". Не знам как се възпитават мъже. Искрено се надявам Фройд да не е прав за отношенията между майка и син. Също така се надявам да не сме го орисали в онзи разговор с Cow през далечната 2002 г., в който обсъждахме как мъжете зодия Риби са алкохолици, наркомани и педерасти. Е, също така музиканти, поети и философи, ама то едното е за сметка на другото. Няма пълно щастие.

Което ми напомня, че днес е последният ден, в който той ще ходи на градина. Един вид, излиза във ваканция и почва да го гледа институцията "мама". (Институцията "баба и дядо" гледат само каката, а и тя им е много.) Институцията "мама" има работа за целия китайски народ, така че се очертава един тежък юли, през който ще трябва да работя, да му готвя 4 яденета на ден и да го забавлявам с други неща, а не само "Ледена епоха", "Феноменалните" и други холивудски възпитателни методики. А и наесен няма градина за него, ама това е тема за съвсем отделен рант.

На връщане от градината вчера минаваме през един магазин да си купим вода и внезапно малкият пожелава да му купя салам. Колбаси вкъщи почти не се ядат и аз му отказвам с аргумента, че саламът е вреден, освен това сме далече от къщи и ще ми тежи като го нося.

- Аз ще го нося, мамо! Аз съм ти голям помощник.

Купувам салама. Саламът е "Бургас" (Минутка за скрита реклама.) Продавачката го увива и понечва да го сложи в торбичка, но тук се проявява бъдещият войн и мъжкар и настоява:

- Не искам торбичка! Искам да го нося като меч!

Слава на небесата! Имало баланс във вселената;)

Следващият път дано сложи синия лак. Синьото е за момченца.

The End of The World

Watch the movie here. Death Star ftw:)

Great post, thanks.

An addition in style:

Fire and Ice

Robert Frost

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Paradoxes of a Man of God

(not necessarily male:p)

Strong enough to be weak;
Successful enough to fail;
Busy enough to take time;
Wise enough to say 'I don't know';
Serious enough to laugh;
Rich enough to be poor;
Right enough to say 'I'm wrong';
Compassionate enough to discipline;
Conservative enough to give freely;
Mature enough to be childlike;
Righteous enough to be a sinner;
Important enough to be last;
Courageous enough to fear God;
Planned enough to be spontaneous;
Controlled enough to be flexible;
Free enough to endure captivity;
Knowledgeable enough to ask questions;
Loving enough to be angry;
Great enough to be anonymous;
Responsible enough to play;
Assured enough to be rejected;
Stable enough to cry;
Victorious enough to lose;
Industrious enough to relax;
Leading enough to serve.

Philip C. Brewer

Zen enough?:)

A recent insight on God, the Creator of the universe:

28.6.2006 г. 15:18 hazel: svobodnoto razprostranenie na vselenata e pod creative commons license
28.6.2006 г. 15:18 ikew: "Stop! You can't sing that tune, i registered it! You owe me five worms!"
28.6.2006 г. 15:19 hazel: basi, tva beshe prozrenie
28.6.2006 г. 15:19 ikew: da :))
28.6.2006 г. 15:19 hazel: ne za cherveite, a po-gornoto:P
28.6.2006 г. 15:19 ikew: znam, to si beshe prozrenie ot sekyde :)

Hijab and Human Rights

The story for English speakers: two Muslim girls in the Bulgarian town of Smolian were denied permission to go to school wearing their headscarves. The argument used was that it was a secular school and if they want to show their religious affinity, they should go to a religious school. The girls wore the prescribed school uniform, so they were not in violation of school rules.

The news in detail.

This is a blatant infringement on human rights, especially the right to religious expression. Islam requires women to wear special clothing, and the headscarf is something they hold important. I may not agree with their religion, but I would die for their right to profess it. Rings a bell, MAS-members?

Another Wikipedia entry for the knowledge-hungry.

Edit: Nothing new under the sun.

In conclusion, something in character:

NATO - Be Umide
without hope (or agenda)

A Question of Decision

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all thеse defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They don't ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like 'maybe we should just be friends' or 'how very perceptive' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love."

Neil Gaiman

No. This is a conscious decision I’m making and I want to be very emphatic about it. I’m not going to hate love. I was told I was ‘indecisive’ which meant ‘without blind faith in my own decisions’. This is true, I have made too many wrong decisions and they are not a good basis for faith. Instead, I’ll put my faith in love. It doesn’t matter if it’s part of my immediate universe, like it doesn’t matter if I’ve seen Taj Mahal with my own eyes. It’s there, and the world has more beauty because of it.

The world has one cynic less, as of today.

Zen Expression

no battle today
melodious strings attached
to the rangers' bows

Wikipedia Entry

Против ефебофилията

В една неотдавнашна дискусия относно "възрастта за съгласие за секс" имаше теза, че възрастта трябва да е по-ниска. Говори се много за правата на 13-годишните... момичета. 13-годишните момчета, по един крайно сексистки начин, бяха изключени от спора.

Няма да твърдя, че трябва да е незаконно, ще кажа само, че е несправедливо да се прави секс с момичета под 18 години.

Под тази възраст те, макар и полово зрели, обикновено правят секс, защото са влюбени, плюс солидна доза любопитство. Дори не откривам топлата вода с твърдението, че те дават секс, за да получат любов, което е нечестна сделка. Нарекох такова поведение подло, след което ме обориха, че сделката може да е честна, ако в отговор се предостави любов. Аз възразих, че сексът е "средство за размяна", което много по-лесно подлежи на удостоверяване, отколкото любовта, което пак не е честно:) Затова няма да коментирам доколко е глупаво, наивно и романтично момичетата да стават страни по този договор, който дори невинаги е ясно формулиран. Говоря само за секс (и донякъде за размяна "кон за кокошка").

Несправедливо е, когато е налице манипулация с цел собствена изгода. Възможно е манипулацията в нашия случай да не е злонамерена, тоест тийнейджърът отсреща да не е имал намерение да причини вреда. Обаче определено са налице пропуснати ползи! Доколкото съм чела биология, пикът на женското либидо е около 30-годишна възраст:) В тийнейджърска възраст въпросното е, меко казано, далеч от пика. Така че тийнейджърският секс поставя жената в неравноправно положение, лишава я от радостта на този вид общуване и потенциално я излага на риск от травмиране, което ще се отрази на бъдещия й сексуален опит. Тийнейджърът на тази възраст мисли основно за своето либидо, а и рядко притежава уменията и търпението, необходими за разгръщане на женствеността на партньорката. Така момичетата не получават "своята част от сделката" и се налага да се задоволят (pun unintended) с това, че са допринесли за щастието за човека, когото обичат.

Обобщавам:
Тийнейджърките, обект на ефебофили, стават жертва на несправедливост, защото:
а. физиологически и психологически не са достатъчно развити, за да се насладят пълноценно на секса.
б. партньорите им ги ощетяват като не могат/не желаят да се стараят за тяхното удоволствие.
в. поддават се на заблудата, че давайки секс, получават любов, което невинаги е факт. А дори и да е, пак е несправедливо, защото човек дава секс, за да получи секс.

Любовта е... друга бира.
И не съм феминистка, да си кажа:)

Precious Gift

Depeche Mode gave a stunning performance last night in Sofia. I loved everything: the sound, the light effects, the shining ball where the words Sex Pain Angel Love lit successively, and other words appeared alluding to the current song. A creature of language, me.

Dave was not as old as I thought he would be, and he waved the mike stand in classic 80s style. It must be a burden to spend so many years writing music, which has to be both the same you've made before, and yet new. Their latest album, Playing the Angel, is a good example that the mission is possible. Respect.

The crowd was different from the usual crowd I see at concerts. Many short-haired guys, for one thing:) I was moved by a lady who said she cried when Depeche Mode appeared, she had loved them for 20 years. Sometimes other people's dreams can touch me. As a moderate fan of Depeche Mode, I went to the concert courtesy of a friend who was too sick to go. Thanks again, M. IOU, for too many things.

The return from the concert was an apocalypse of bodies, smells, absence of taxis and Bulgarian pop folk in the final taxi which took me home. Red shaking tomatoes, and stuff like that. Eclectic, huh?

Grey Wet Days

This is a quote from an email I wrote two years ago. The addressee was totally baffled:)

- ще има ли сиви влажни дни, в които не знам какво да правя, нямам нищо за четене или гледане и денят сякаш се влачи цяла вечност?
- никога.
- ще има ли ужасни ястия, приготвени по рецепти с чесън, розмарин и бобена гарнитура?
- всяко ястие ще бъде истински празник….всичко, което минава през устата ти, ще ти доставя само най-чисто удоволствие.
- и мога да нося зелени ръкавици и жълти гумени ботуши, направени като жаби?
- като жаби, патета, носорози или октоподи... каквито искаш. всяка сутрин ще създават един нов свят за теб. ако останеш тук, можеш да имаш каквото си поискаш.
коралайн въздъхна.
- ти наистина не разбираш. аз не искам онова, което искам. никой не иска, онова, което иска. не и наистина. какво забавно има в това да получаваш всичко, каквото искаш? просто ей-така, без да означава нещо?

Коралайн, Нийл Геймън

Много ценя книги, които поставят под съмнение любимата ми теория. А тя е, че раят е мястото, където ще получим всичко, което искаме, дори най-невероятното – съборената от булдозер къща с градина, басейн със спагети, в който да се цопнем, Клаудия Шифър за гадже. Кой решава какво ще получим или не от живота или следживота? Ако искаме нещо с цялата си същност, но то не ни се дава, ако напрягаме воля, аура и молитвени мускули до степен да изкривим космоса така, че да стане нашето, но въпреки това Бог казва “не”? Как да продължим да живеем? Дори вярата в рая не ми помага в момента... Така, това не е апостатично изявление, аз продължавам да си вярвам в рая, но си модифицирам малко мечтите, за да не заприличам на детенце, което врънка за всичко, което вижда по витрините. Хм, значи нещата опират до значението на получаването, според Коралайн. Когато получаваш – мъжа, когото обичаш, примерно (в твоя случай жената), то не означава само това, което е – сватба, дом, деца, внуци и компания на старини. Означава и нещо друго. Едно от нещата, което би могло да означава, е че Някой е решил да ти го подари. Можеше и да не ти го подари. Можеше да не срещнеш този човек или пък той да не те забележи. Можеше този Някой да е като мен и когато Рада поиска Барби, аз казвам не. Какво означава това “не”? Ако ще продължим паралела с Божествения Родител, не върви да кажа, немам пари. Пък и аз имам;) Значи, отказът ми да купя Барби означава нещо различно от безпаричие и желание да направя напук. Може да означава, че липсата на тази придобивка ще я направи по-добър човек според мен. Само че как да го обясня на Рада, без да ме намрази?

(И без никаква връзка с горното пиша още:)

Мъжете, които ми допадат, ВИНАГИ са имали нещо, което да поставят на първо място в живота си и аз поначало знаех, че съм втора цигулка. Ама втора цигулка, ей! Не кастанета, която се използва за пет секунди в алегрото;)

(Music is best:})

Май няма никакъв смисъл да се оплаквам от мъжете. Все пак, когато едно време ме поставиха пред избора “Или парашутизма, или аз”, хич даже не се поколебах:) Споко де, повечето жени не са така:Р

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Another St Augustine Fan

"Grant me chastity and continence, but not yet"

St Augustine of Hippo

Give Me (Not Yet)

(c) Gom Jabbar 2005

you call my lifestyle a mistake
cause you crashed your car
some years ago
and regretted every dent
you believe I'll never break
if I didn't do any of the things
you did to end up spent

but maybe a wasted mind
is life as usual
and maybe a shattered heart
is the only heart to be had

so let me earn my own blues
let me shed my own skins
yes it's true i'm confused
but all I ask of you is

R:
give me chastity
unbroken clarity
a smooth reality
enchanted sanity

but don't give them now
i don't need them yet
but don't give them now
i don't need them yet

and to think I was afraid that
it'll never be my turn
as if you can contain
the baby in a cradle
and the ashes in an urn

and maybe no control
is just life as usual
maybe an endless fall
is the same as flying high

so let me wear my own shoes
and commit my own sins
yes it's true I'm confused
but all I ask of you is

R: repeated

don't be so unforgiving

(give me chastity
untainted modesty
a break from vanity
a high morality

but don't give them now
i don't want them yet
but don't give them now
i don't want them yet)

A year ago I wrote:

I am like an old battered and scarred warrior on a quest, who's been through hundreds of battles, most of which he lost. There is still a long way to go, he's got a lot of experience, his level is high, but his health is failing, and he badly needs a rest. What I need is a night at an inn, some ale, and a bard singing. Ok, maybe a dancer or two to feast my eyes upon. Will anyone dance for me?

That was even before I played a warrior:)

Augustine My Love (Threshold)

“Thou hast created us for Thyself,
and our heart is not quiet until it rests in Thee.”

St Augustine of Hippo

In these comments I said there is a solitude threshold, which is one way to measure character, much as the threshold of pain is a way to measure physiological response. The lower your threshold, the less amount of solitude makes you lonely. Augustine, I think, had a very low threshold of pain: ("Nor was that wound of mine as yet cured which had been caused by the separation from my former mistress, but after inflammation and most acute anguish it mortified, and the pain became numbed, but more desperate). I suppose his threshold of solitude was also low: ("solitude was suggested to me as fitter for the business of weeping.")

In the inner sanctuary of his soul revealed in Confessions, he never stops talking to God, and wanting to know him, parallel to knowing himself. He does not seem as comfortable with ascetic solitude as other saints, and his meditations are always filled with images of people. What is more, the Confessions explore his life in the 'transitional period' of his quest for God and Truth. After his conversion and baptism he became part of a monastic order and later a bishop, which meant social and political involvement.

As an aside, Augustine was a man of incredible intellectual power - he had an education in philosophy and rhetoric, he was a theologian postulating the relationship between free will and predestination (with emphasis on the latter, which I personally disagree with), writing on the nature of time (time is a feature of creation, the creator is outside time) - but also of deep emotions, astonishing passion and poetic inclination:

"Belatedly I loved thee, O Beauty so ancient and so new, belatedly I loved thee. For see, thou wast within and I was without, and I sought thee out there. Unlovely, I rushed heedlessly among the lovely things thou hast made. ... Thou didst gleam and shine, and didst chase away my blindness. Thou didst breathe fragrant odors and I drew in my breath; and now I pant for thee. I tasted, and now I hunger and thirst. Thou didst touch me, and I burned for thy peace."

His oxymorons are so sensual they take my breath away.

Back to the threshold now.

How much solitude is too much? How much of everything is too much?

In Guild Wars there is a message appearing after each hour of play.
'You have been playing for 1 hour'.
'You have been playing for 4 hours. Please take a break'.
You have reached a threshold, you've had too much of a good thing, now stop... if you want.

I had a discussion with friends on the benefits of this message, and one said that this message is an infringement of his freedom. For me this is just a measurement, like stepping on the scales and seeing how much weight you gained. Well, if you break the scales, it is a direct message, but otherwise, it just *shows you how far you've gone*. It's completely up to you to choose your course of action, you can go on eating, lazying, playing, etc. in the same way, but a warning is always nice, at least for me. It's like after one or two drinks I start drinking fruit juice only:)

The chart of a person's life has its ups and downs and I have reached the peak of my self-sufficiency. I may not find final rest this side of death, but I feel it's time for a night in an inn.

Not A Sprite Commercial

Despite the lack of deadlines, I translated a song my grandmother sang to me in her beautiful voice, when I was a little kid. I didn't understand the procreational metaphors back then, honest:)

Sprite Girl

Hey, little sprite girl,
Don't go crossing my yard
Don't bring troubles to me,
My own troubles are many,
How could I handle thine?
Come on, Ivan old boy,
Do I have to teach thee?
Take both thine and mine,
Put them in thy pockets.
Plough thy father's field,
Sow my troubles and thine:
If basil leaves grow,
Thee and I shall wed,
If nettle leaves grow,
Thee and I shall part.


МОМИЧЕ, МАЛЪК ДЯВОЛО

Момиче, малък дяволо,
не ми минавай през двори,
не ми създавай кахъри.
Че малко ли са моите,
къде да дяна твоите.
- Байно ле, бачо Иване,
и туй ли да те науча.
Вземя ги мойте и твойте,
тури ги в шити джобове,
преори ниви бащини.
Посей ги мойте и твойте,
ако поникне босилек,
ний двама ще се вземеме,
ако поникне коприва,
ний двама ще се разделим.

This is the 'urban folk' version. Here's another one, given in more sources, but with more herbs than I can handle now;) Also, it suggests three possible outcomes, depending on the resulting herb, while here there are only two. I prefer more than two alternatives to everything, so I would appreciate help in translating the other version.

Teaser: there's a tragic ending to the other one, Romeo and Juliet style.

Erm... I promised to comment on the song lyrics with something *really* wise and original on the topic of relationships. However, I am suffering from a severe bout of cynicism, so I'll refrain.

The song says it all.

Mutual Admiration Society Tribute

Alanis Morissette - Utopia

(italics mine)

we'd gather around all in a room
fasten our belts engage in dialogue
we'd all slow down rest without guilt
not lie without fear disagree sans judgement

we would stay and respond and expand and include
and allow and forgive and enjoy and evolve
and discern and inquire and accept and admit
and divulge and open and reach out and speak up

this is utopia this is my utopia
this is my ideal my end in sight
utopia this is my utopia
this is my nirvana
my ultimate

we'd open our arms we'd all jump in
we'd all coast down into safety nets

we would share and listen and support and welcome
be propelled by passion not invest in outcomes
we would breathe and be charmed and amused by difference
be gentle and make room for every emotion

we'd provide forums we'd all speak out
we'd all be heard we'd all feel seen

we'd rise post-obstacle more defined more grateful
we would heal be humbled and be unstoppable
we'd hold close and let go and know when to do which
we'd release and disarm and stand up and feel safe

this is utopia this is my utopia
this is my ideal my end in sight
utopia this is my utopia
this is my nirvana
my ultimate

And because everything is connected to everything, here's my favorite song from the album Under Rug Swept, on the topic of the previous entry:

... And there are no strings attached.
You owe me nothing for giving the love that I give
You owe me nothing for caring the way that I have
I give you thanks for receiving, it's my privilege,
and you owe me nothing in return....
...This is the only kind of love, as I understand it, that there really is....

Romance Cut

I'm driving through downtown Sofia, and the friend next to me has a GPS. Whoa, 21st century live!

"What about the Depeche Mode concert?", I ask him.

"Well... Depeche Mode will miss me. I'll call K. and explain why I'm not going", he says, his voice quivers with uncertainty.

"Don't", I almost snap at him. "Don't explain. He won't understand. You see, even I barely understand you, unless I try real hard, and my level of empathy is well above the average."

Silence. Implying consent.

We're going to the airline office to get him a ticket for tomorrow morning flight to the US. He came to Bulgaria two weeks ago, and was planning to stay until the end of July. The previous night when he told me was going to quit his vacation and go back to the US, my first thought was that something horrible must have happened. Thank God, it was nothing of the kind. It turned out that... his girlfriend missed him. Talk about flexibility of plans.

I'll try to understand. Isn't it written: Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh (Genesis 2:24) I know some of you dislike Bible quotes:D I'm just struck by the verb 'cleave' and its two meanings, provoking a wonderfully postmodernist interpretation.

Meaning One.
1. To adhere, cling, or stick fast. (this is obviously the intended meaning in Genesis)
2. To be faithful: cleave to one's principles.
Meaning Two.
1. To split with or as if with a sharp instrument.
2. To make or accomplish by or as if by cutting: cleave a path through the ice.
3. To pierce or penetrate: The wings cleaved the foggy air.
4. Chemistry. To split (a complex molecule) into simpler molecules.

So you leave and cleave, you state allegiance to one person, supposedly staying with him/her for the rest of your life, but you have to be ready first - mature, capable of making decisions, independent. However, in ancient times this 'cleaving' was seldom, if ever, to a person of choice. Usually the mother and father selected the future partner of their offspring. Nowadays we do this of our own free will, and then proceed to cut the other person with the sharp instrument of the said free will.

How much of a relationship is war, really? Do we need to win, even against the person we love? What kind of love can command the other: just leave everything behind and fly to me, now? Forget everyone - parents, sister, brother-in-law, newborn niece, friends - and come to me. Now. I can't stand the loneliness, he world is empty without you, I am a simple molecule and need to be made complex. Yes, I know I agreed to let you go for two months, but now I've changed my mind.

Empathy? I know how it feels. Been there, done that. I've won a myriad of battles of will, manipulated the other person into doing things my way. After the brief thrill of victory, I knew I had modified the fabric of reality, and the other person loved me a bit less. I've changed since then - I stopped fighting for my desires as fiercely as I did before. I like to think I've become more... bendable. Maybe that's why I was so impressed by the story of my friend, and felt a mixture of admiration and resentment. She is someone I could admire, a strong woman who does not show her strength off, but is capable of doing great things out of great love. I pray her love will be enough to fill in the holes left by his losses. I pray they both will evade bitterness and block accusations. I just hope she makes the whole thing worthwhile.

Don't we almost always, when a good friend of ours becomes a (better) half of a couple, think to ourselves: 'Let's hope he/she is worthy of her/him'? (Er... pronouns here are NOT politically correct:P). Do we feel guilty of thought-interfering? There is 'a secret life of a couple' we do not have access to, and we shouldn't. Even if this is our closest friend and ally, there are bounderies we'd better not cross. I know, I'm doing it right now:) I'm delving into the vast and hidden area of other people's motivation, where I always fear to tread. But I promised I'd try hard.

It's not that you give up your freedom in exchange for love. There is time for everything under the sun, and a wise person brings to the fore this particular side of his individuality which is best suited to the moment and to the social situation. Sometimes other sides of the individuality have to be suppressed, and that's understandable. At this particular time of their lives (they are both 28) they decided nothing matters more than being with each other. Ok, I wrote an unusually long - for me - entry, to reach the conclusion "how romantic".

For some people, that was the first reaction:)

Power In Numbers!

First victory in Heroes' Ascent. We got as far as the third map, then lost.







I faced my fear and plunged. I did the thing that scared me shitless. I dared.
Losing is a small price to pay for this kind of feeling...
More on failure and success later.


Now, some more numbers to show off:D

My blog is worth $564.54.
How much is your blog worth?

From Two To Five And Beyond

Рада, в опит да направи мост:
Виж, правя като твоята героиня (ритуалистката в GW).
Криви се наляво-надясно.
Абе човек ако направи така, ще се счупи.

Михаил, в банята (къпе се сам):
Донеси ми онова червеното, с което се къпя.
Аз: Кое е това червеното?
Той: Ами това, с което се къпя.
Аз: Ама кое е то?
Той: Донеси ми го и ще ти го покажа.
:)

Have You Ever Seen A Miracle...

... you couldn't doubt or imitate?

Kansas - Rainmaker

I prayed for the rain to end,
for a shiny ray of light.
It rained for a long long time.
Maybe someone, somewhere,
has been praying for rain?
And then reality cracked,
it happened.
Even more than I asked for,
a piece of gold-touched sunset.

It's been so long
since I moved a mountain.
Thank you.

Remedy Lane

I had another lucid dream last night. Haven't posted lyrics recently:D

Pain of Salvation - Second Love

Day after day
Nothing's changed you're far away
But I need you to know that I can't sleep anymore
By the nights
Night after night
The stars are shining so bright
Though our pain is larger than the universe tonight

I want you to know I can't sleep anymore
By the nights
By the nights
Day after day I want you to say
That you're mine
You are mine

Year after year
Tear after tear
I feel like my heart will break in two
You came like a wind I couldn't defend
You cut my heart so deeply
The scars won't mend

I'll never believe in love anymore
After this
After this
Can never change or rearrange
What we lost
What we lost

Time after time
I am wasting my time
Living in a past where I was strong
But now I am gone
I leave no shadow when I'm alone
I'll stay forever in my dreams where you are near

Want you to know I can't sleep anymore
By the nights
By the nights
Day after day I want you to say
That you're mine
You're mine

Now, an EICTE moment.
This album tells of childlove. Before each song there is a short intro which is not sung.
For this particular song:

"We are eleven and she is the love of my life
But one week from now she will turn her back on me
Four years from now she will give me hope, then sleep with my best friend
Five years from now it is the two of us but by then there is nothing
left of this aching love and this soaring love.
But I don't know that now
Because we are eleven and she is the love of my life."

Amazing, huh.

Where's the remedy? _What_ is the remedy?

Then looking on the Blessed Land 'twill see
that all is as it is, and yet made free:
Salvation changes not, nor yet destroys,
garden nor gardener, children nor their toys.

J. R. R. Tolkien

Toys R Us. Some toys will be broken I think, but some will stay. And it will still be us, with toys to play with, and gardens to tend.

Temporary Pic-nic

A fun time was had by all.

Bunnies!

Крайно време е да почна да записвам смешните лафове на децата.

Питам Рада: Колко е 15-3?
Тя: Кажи ми го със зайчета.
Аз: На една полянка играели 15 зайчета. Три си отишли да спят. Колко зайчета останали?
Тя: 12.
И се смее ли смее.

Сега с послушни деца: Имало 100 послушни деца, три от тях станали непослушни. Колко послушни деца са останали?
Тя: 97:)

Още по-сложна математика, с множества. Тя съставя задача.

Имало 20 шноли и един чорап (у нас множеството на чорапите често е така). Колко...ъъ.. предмета станали? (Гледа ме очаквателно.)
21 разбира се!

А на Михаил лафовете... няма равен.
Аз задавам идиотския въпрос: Нали Рада е най-добрата сестра?
Той: Така си мисля.