Lube. It's Official.

I'm in love. For a die-hard music addict like me, it's hard to touch me afresh. This Russian band did it.

Любэ - Давай за... (video here)

Серыми тучами небо затянуто, нервы гитарной струною натянуты.
Дождь барабанит с утра и до вечера, время застывшее кажется вечностью.
Мы наступаем по всем направлениям. Танки, пехота, огонь артиллерии.
Нас убивают, но мы выживаем, и снова в атаку себя мы бросаем.

Давай за жизнь, давай брат до конца.
Давай за тех, кто с нами был тогда.
Давай за жизнь, будь проклята война.
Помянем тех, кто с нами был тогда.


Небо над нами свинцовыми тучами стелится низко туманами рваными.
Хочется верить, что все уже кончилось, только бы выжил товарищ мой раненый.
Ты потерпи браток, не помирай пока, будешь ты жить еще долго и счастливо.
Будем на свадьбе твоей мы отплясывать, будешь ты в небо детишек подбрасывать.

Давай за жизнь, держись, брат до конца.
Давай за тех, кто дома ждет тебя.
Давай за жизнь, будь проклята война.
Давай за тех кто дома ждет тебя.

Давай за них, давай за нас, и за Сибирь и за Кавказ,
За свет далеких городов, и за друзей и за любовь.
Давай за вас, давай за нас, и за десант, и за спецназ,
За боевые ордена, давай поднимем старина.


В старом альбоме нашел фотографию деда, он был командир Красной армии.
Сыну на память Берлин сорок пятого века ушедшего воспоминания.
Запах травы на рассвете нескошеной, стоны земли от бомбежек распаханной
Пара солдатских ботинок истоптанных, войнами новыми, войнами старыми...

Давай за жизнь...
Давай за тех...
Давай за жизнь...
Давай помянем тех, кто с нами был...


Thanks to Mordred and his better half.

Concert? Tickets? Anyone?

LOTR remake video here:)

Mors Illi Ultra Non Dominabitur

And death shall have no dominion.

Dead men naked they shall be one

With the man in the wind and the west moon;

When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,

They shall have stars at elbow and foot;

Though they go mad they shall be sane,

Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;

Though lovers be lost love shall not;

And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.

Under the windings of the sea

They lying long shall not die windily;

Twisting on racks when sinews give way,

Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;

Faith in their hands shall snap in two,

And the unicorn evils run them through;

Split all ends up they shan't crack;

And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.

No more may gulls cry at their ears

Or waves break loud on the seashores;

Where blew a flower may a flower no more

Lift its head to the blows of the rain;

Though they be mad and dead as nails,

Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;

Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,

And death shall have no dominion.

See the Bulgarian translation below.

Mapping with Frost

Not this mapping, the other one:)

For those who remember the discussion about maps for first graders who are not allowed out of school without a parent or an authorized person, here's the outcome.
Gracious gift from Frost who is an authority in some areas. However, she acknowledges me as an authority, in others. It's called complementation;)

Multiple Authorities Society:D

Note to burglars: Please don't break into my home. It's been broken into already, and I have nothing valuable to steal.

Whirling Dervishes

I have been reading the 13th century Sufi poet Mawlana Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi, known simply as Rumi. The first word means 'lord', and Rumi is a signifier of origin.

Come to the orchard in spring
There is light and wine
And sweethearts
In the pomegranate flowers

If you do not come
These do not matter
If you do come
These do not matter

***

I have lived on the lip of insanity
Wanting to know reasons
Knocking on a door, it opens
I have been knocking from the inside!

***

The minute I'm disappointed
I feel encouraged.
When I'm ruined
I'm healed.
When I'm quiet
and solid as the ground
Then I talk
the low tones of thunder
for everyone

***

A Time for Madness

Once more,
Love is pouring down my ceiling
and my walls.
Once more, it's the night of the full moon,
it is time for madness.
All my immense knowledge
cannot help me now.
Once more,

Insomnia took my patience.
Rain washed away my intellect.
The Lover made me lose my profession.
What good is my work anyway?

Once more, rise, rise, rise,

Like the way a garden burns
in a hundred shades of orange in the fall,
a Lover's heart shrivels for a sense of the Beloved's touch.
Now the face of that charred garden
is my field of flowers.

Look, two hundred Jupiters
are dancing around my moon.

My Love business is booming,
but don't credit the consultants.
I am done with the consultants
and the pundits,
they call you Jafar the imposter.
Little do they know,
that you are my Shams the Flyer.

Some more love poetry here, better verses - here. I guess it depends on the translator;)

He was a mystic, a theologian, a poet, and a lover. In his lifetime, Rumi was inspired by another dervish, Shams Tabriz-i, who was his mentor, friend, and allegedly lover. Shams disappeared mysteriously after spending several years with Rumi. Suffering in bereavement, Rumi attributed many of his works to him, expressing his love and sorrow.

Rumi is best known as the founder of the Whirling Dervishes, or Mevlevi Order who worship God in the form of song and dance ceremony called sema. An annual festival is held each December in Konya, Turkey, in commemoration of this saint-like figure whose dying day is celebrated as his 'wedding' to God. They are open to other religions and are a very tolerant denomination of Islam:

Whoever you may be, come
Even though you may be
An infidel, a pagan, or a fire-worshipper, come
Our brotherhood is not one of despair
Though you have broken
Your vows of repentance a hundred times, come.

And because everything is connected to everything, here's my dervish from the latest Guild Wars event.

If I get Nightfall, I strongly suspect my character's name will be Shams Tabrizi:)

Separately Wasted

Този пост трябваше да има снимков материал - контейнерите за разделно събиране на отпадъци до нашия блок - но поради хардуерна недостатъчност, снимка няма;) Имаме зелен за стъклени отпадъци и жълт за отпадъци от опаковки. Браво на Екобулпак и на Министерството на околната среда и водите. Разбира се, нещо в мен се бунтува и ужасява от мисълта за четирите торбички за отпадъци, които трябва да въведа в експлоатация, но пък нали съм green, трябва да си държа на реномето.

Green is cool, yellow is problematic. Не знам какво да изхвърлям в жълтия контейнер. Не трябва да са метални опаковки, виждала съм отделен син контейнер за метал, а хартията е ясно, че трябва да е на трето място. Та, трябва ли да изхвърлям в жълтия контейнер празни опаковки от прясно и кисело мляко? Тоест хем картон, хем пластмаса? Може ли някой да ми го обясни като на микроидиот? Най-информативният текст, който намерих за отпадъците от опаковки, е този. Мда, за деца е, но пък слайдовете за възрастни (не това за възрастни, другото) на сайта на Екобулпак изобщо не са reader-friendly. А биоразграждащите се отпадъци са съвсем друга бира, с тях прочетох, че ще се занимаваме едва през 2013 г., ако дотогава камилата или камиларят не се разградят биологично.

Иначе гордо изхвърлих празен буркан от нескафе, бутилка от вино и бутилка от уиски в зеления контейнер. След което гордостта ми се смири, защото може би не биваше да ги изхвърлям с капачките...

Edit: Към настоящия момент всъщност контейнерите са на фирма Булекопак,
на чийто сайт няма полезна информация за потребителя.

Personal

For the cold pale woman
I leave some of my goodness
I leave the veil of sin
And let go my dreams

Eternity follows me everywhere
Your words so hollow won't go anywhere
Distant shadow disappears
It searches the gate beyond the stars

And there I can see her again

Tell me why you have to be so pure and wrong
And I'm alive to be here

Is it just an omen
Is it me walking blindly
I will find the answer
When I wake up from my dream

And there I can kill her again 

I'm Loving Angels Instead

Rainer Maria Rilke wrote in German, and I have no clue of German, so here it goes, courtesy of stuffedman.

Edit: I found this version of the translation, without credit. My guess is that it is Ventsislav Konstantinov.

Из "Дуински елегии"

Кой би ме чул, ако викнех, из вашето воинство
ангели? Пък и да кажем, че някой дори
в миг би разтворил за мене сърцето си, аз
щях да изчезна в по-силното му същество,
тъй като страшното почва едва с красотата, която
смогваме да понесем, удивени с какво
невъзмутимо презрение да ни смаже
тя се отказва. Всеки ангел е страшен.
Аз обуздавам призивния вик и преглъщам
стона му тъмен. Ах, от кого ние можем
да се нуждаем? От ангели – не. И от хората – не.
Умни, животните вече прозират
как ненадеждни сме ний у дома си, сред тоя
свят от значения. Наше е може би
още дървото на склона, за да го виждаме
всеки ден; наш е и пътят вчерашен,
навикът с глезена вярност, комуто харесва
с нас да битува, остава и вече не си отива.

...........................................
А ние: зрители и тук, и там,
към всичко сме обърнати и нивга
от нищо неизлизащи. Препълва
ни то - noдpeждaмe го. То се срива.
Подреждаме го пак и ний самите
се сриваме. Но кой ни е обърнал
обратно, че каквото и да правим,
приличаме на оня, който си отива
и от хълма последен, в шир и длъж
за сетен път разкрил му долината
рождена; се обръща и се спира -
така в сбогуване безспир живеем.
1922

Poems in English

According to Wikipedia, director Wim Wenders was inspired by Rilke's angels for his 'Wings of Desire'.

Time Will Tell?

"Никой от нас не знае какво го чака утре, но въпреки това говорим за събития, които ще станат след години. Проблемът е, че човек обича друг заради различни неща от тези, заради които се влюбва."

"Иронията в ситуацията е като тест за цветоусещане - ако не си наред с колбичките, няма да видиш цифрата. Разбира се, ние можем да гледаме на себе си като на размазани цветни петна, което е много по-естетично, отколкото някакво си 42. То върши работа, но не и на художника-модернист."

"Ако ти се интересуваш от пакетчето "Мен", тогава трябва да си разбрал, че то не обича да е предсказуемо. Не обича то да е ежедневието, сивотата, нещо за пред хората, докато мечтите, идеалите, непостижимото са някъде другаде. Аз ли трябва да играя ролята на покривен пласт на подсъзнанието ти?"


"Ти, естествено, можеш да ме обвиниш в какво ли не - дребнавост, капризност, ревнивост, лекомислие и т.н. Но аз отказвам да си тровя живота с такива неща. Ако ти преча да вървиш по пътя си към победна максимална реализация, срок - началото на 21 век, отговорник - Господ и ти - тази роля не ми подхожда."

"На мен мястото ми е до човек, който има нужда от помощ, подкрепа и усмивка, когато нещата не са съвсем наред; до човек, чието предназначение е да живее и чиято основна цел е да издържи; който иска насърчение, утеха и черен хумор в скръбта ("Болката е неизбежна, но скръбта е по избор"); човек, който не крие маса задни мисли, мечти и надежди зад челото си."

"Ако смяташ, че не си заслужава, защото за мен може да има някой по-добър, а за теб със сигурност има по-добра - аз трябва да направя съответните корекции в моето jigsaw. Ако това парченце не е за там, където се мъча да го поставя, колкото и да си приличат цветовете и колкото и да го натискам - нищо няма да се получи. Sad but true."

Из ръкопис от миналото десетилетие, открит сред отломки от обир

Thief In Da House

Нали помните онзи момент от Бриджит Джоунс 2, когато тя каза нещо като: Писна ми да ми се случват само кофти неща, крайно време е да ми се случи нещо хубаво. След което я арестуваха азиатските полицаи:)

Е, аз си казах нещо подобно тази сутрин и на обяд детегледачката ми се обади, че на връщане от училище е сварила отключено и със следи от обир. Следите от обир, чувала съм от очевидци, са извадени чекмеджета и нахвърляни вещи. Спорно е дали сутринта съм оставила отключено или не, но както ми обясни Икю, брава като моята се отваря много лесно, а аз не слагам резето като съм в София. Дам, имаме метална врата, която слава Богу не е разбита, защото това вече щеше да разбие сърцето ми, не за друго, ми трябваше да ходя и при ключар. И все пак обирът е станал посред бял ден една седмица след като съм почнала да ходя на работа извън къщи и съм взела нова детегледачка. И от интернет доставчика снощи ми се обадиха пак, да проверят дали съм изпълнила указанията;) Мakes you think, but I will not!:) Down with paranoia:D

На полицията, разбира се, не се обадих. В асансьора срещнах съседка, която каза, че също са я обирали и когато извикала полиция, те я посъветвали да обиколи заложните къщи, а също така й поискали документ, че е собственик на откраднатото злато. Аз такъв документ нямам, нито пък имам желание да ходя по заложни къщи. Освен това комуникирането с полицаи изобщо не ми е сред любимите занимания. Не стига, че са ми влизали чужди хора в дома, ами и още чужди хора да викам... не, не. Ще спестя малко пари на данъкоплатеца и няма да занимавам полицията с petty theft, а също така ще си запазя част от нервите, които ми трябват, ама много.

В чест на гореспоменатата Бриджит Джоунс, ще дам кратък списък на липсващите вещи.

1. Венчална халка - 1 (и без това не ми трябва вече).
2.Пръстен с камък, подарък от екс-свекървата - 1. (вж по-горе).
3. Златни обеци, подарък от мама - 1 чифт.
4. Дигитален фотоапарат, подарък от Алвин - единственото, за което ми стана жал.

Всъщност, стана ми жал и за крадците. Казах на Рада, че това, че са ни обрали, е лошо, но сигурно е още по-лошо ти да си обирджията. Особено в дом като моя, в който няма нищо кой знае какво за крадене. Нали компютърът, усилвателят и тонколоните са тук:) А пък Рада каза нещо, от което почти се разплаках:

"Мамо, аз съм твоето злато".

Тук мислех да изнеса проповед как не бива да се привързваме към тленни неща, но няма. Смятайте, че съм я изнесла, на фона на John Williams - Imperial Attack.

It's No Joke

The Beatles - I'm So Tired

I'm so tired, I haven't slept a wink
I'm so tired, my mind is on the blink
I wonder should I get up and fix myself a drink
No,no,no.

I'm so tired I don't know what to do
I'm so tired my mind is set on you
I wonder should I call you but I know what you'd do

You'd say I'm putting you on
But it's no joke, it's doing me harm
You know I can't sleep, I can't stop my brain
You know it's three weeks, I'm going insane
You know I'd give you everything I've got
for a little peace of mind

I'm so tired, I'm feeling so upset
Although I'm so tired I'll have another cigarette
And curse Sir Walter Raleigh
He was such a stupid get

You'd say I'm putting you on
But it's no joke, it's doing me harm
You know I can't sleep, I can't stop my brain
You know it's three weeks, I'm going insane
You know I'd give you everything I've got
For a little peace of mind
I'd give you everything I've got
For a little peace of mind
I'd give you everything I've got
For a little peace of mind

[Monsieur, Monsieur, Monsieur, how about another one?]

Brown-Eyed Baby, Anyone?

While checking Firefox's starred items (I'm too lazy to get rss feeds), I found another example of EICTE (everything is connected to everything), feeding my holistic conviction.

The article is about the slippery slope of PGD practice. PGD stands for preimplantation genetic diagnosis (предимплантационна генетична диагностика, както го преведох в един документален филм). The practice involves biopsy of an embryo from in-vitro fertilization, at different stages of development, often on the third day after fertilization. One cell is removed and tested for genetic diseases, and other criteria. If the embryo 'passes the test', it's implanted and results in a baby (hopefully, as many in-vitro pregnancies are unsuccessful), if not, the embryos face a dire fate.

The procedure leads to a healthier individual, and often is life-saving for a sibling with certain diseases. The older sibling is treated with blood cells from the umbilical cord of the new baby. The tested cell can also be used to establish a stem cell line, which some feel is less objectionable stem cell generation method, than using embryos. This cell would be discarded, if it is unused.

The ethical implication of this technique involves the possibility of parents to request screening for all kinds of 'undesirable' characteristics of their future children. In the documentary I saw, there was a deaf couple who used PGD to discard a *hearing* baby because they wanted a deaf one. Sex selection for 'family balancing' reasons is becoming more and more common.

Which leads us again to the question: do we OWN our children? What are we allowed to do to the ball of tissue they are before they become humans? Of course, many claim that they ARE humans from conception on. I don't know - the potential for humanity is there, for sure. However, investment in this kind of research is so expensive, that this type of screening will be introduced soon for whoever can afford it. We all want perfect children, and if we cannot give them perfection the 'natural' way (ahem), we resort to heavy intervention, to ensure they are disease-free and the right sex now; intelligent, blue-eyed, and musically gifted soon enough.

Personally, I'd go for brown-eyed, for a change;)

Team Building With Ramen 2

Things need not have happened to be true.
Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure
when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot.

Neil Gaiman

Things may happen that overshadow dreams. My team building experience of this weekend took place in the mountains, there was a river and a swimming pool, a slopy lawn, strewn with apple trees, and friendly aliens. Ok, strangers. I didn't shoot anyone, and I wasn't afraid, except in the beginning.

I didn't get lost on the way there, but I managed to do it on the way back, I made a wrong turn at a bridge that looked vaguely familiar, and I didn't read the sign properly. Complete unfamiliarity works better for me:) Anyway, it's nice to have an old lady to ask the way when you get lost, like in a proper quest.

Incredible as it may sound, I had a truly magnificent time with a group of total strangers who called me by a strange name (the one on my ID card). We went for a walk in the forest, we listened to SOAD and similar stuff, we played games until 3:30 am, we had a mindboggling amount of food and drink, we just sat and relaxed and talked, and smoked (!).

I had learned my lesson, and I adjusted to them. I did not fit in perfectly, but was damn close to perfection.

As navigo said,

И ето както пиша сега, осъзнавам, че само цапам с думи красивото си преживяване. Затова ще спра и оставя мълчанието да го изрази адекватно. Както е казал поетът, тоест аз:

Звукът достига определени граници.
Тишината обгръща всичко.

Un-freaking-believable

Рецепта за ранно лягане.

Снощи ми звънят от интернет доставчика, аз отговарям учтиво. Казват ми, че използвам файл-шеъринг програма и съм засечена да ъплоудвам еди-кой си филм. Обадили им се от съответните организации.
Аз още по-учтиво казвам, че ще изтрия филма и го изтривам, след което решавам да го гледам все пак;), но той се оказва с дублаж на испански и аз си лягам, защото ме мързи да търся субтитри пък и не е куул с дублаж.

Край на рецептата.

Forty Two

Михаил става на 42 месеца днес:) Първа група в детската градина, на гардеробчето му има чаша и е в същата стая и при същите учителки като кака си. Да живее приемствеността и слава Богу, че го приеха. При това без подкуп.

In Other News

it's like the time i lost my body
and then i saw it on t.v.
somehow it shed a whole dimension
but it still looked like me
(hey! that looks like me!)

I haven't gotten to the state of 'body' on the screenshots, but I will, shortly. It took this warrior almost ten minutes to kill me:D I liked his axe, though:) Also, Frost commended me on my improved movement!

Background: when your guild plays against a top 100 guild in the GW ladder, the match is shown on 'television', that is, it can be observed by other players in the game in the so called 'observer mode'. The match is shown with 15 minutes delay to avoid abuse. There is a special observer channel, often full of hate spam, sometimes interspersed with sane advice.

In other news, I went to a live Guild Wars event, as part of the audience. I had a lot of fun trying to figure out who is who on the star team, having watched them in observer mode:) I copy the press release from the ESL site, correcting some of the typos.

Току-що бяха изиграни финалните мачове в дисциплината Guild Wars. Шампиони в първия сезон за България стана гилдията The Bulgarians [BG], които надиграха достойните си опоненти от Small Gods [SmG] с резултат 2:1. Срещите протекоха доста oспорвано. BG спечелиха първата карта, след което бяха изравнени. На последната карта бъдещите шампиони показаха своята класа и се зарадваха с титлата.

The Bulgarians [BG] 2-1 Small Gods [SmG]

Първите шампиони в българската лига по Guild Wars се наричат The Bulgarians. На гилдията бяха дадени осем копия от новия експанжън на играта - Nightfall.

In yet other news, Meteor Shower ftw and Corley for president:)

To Fake Or Not To Fake

Apparently, the feminist writer Fay Weldon waves the white flag in her latest (not yet published) book 'What Makes Women Happy'.

“If you are happy and generous-minded, you will fake it and then leap out of bed and pour him champagne, telling him, ‘You are so clever’ or however you express enthusiasm.”

“Faking is kind to male partners . . . Otherwise they too may become anxious and so less able to perform. Do yourself and him a favour, sister: fake it.” She adds: “Eighty per cent of women only sometimes — or never — experience orgasm. Facts are facts and there we are. Deal with it.”

Her statistics might or might not be faulty, but it sure is staggering. The writer is not a very reliable source of information though, as this critical article in Sunday Times suggests. Moreover, she is 74 now and has had two divorces. Damn statistics, here's a quote from the article that rings true:

"...we go through the motions anyway and men feel delighted that we are a paragon of good housewifery, a “natural mother”, a multitasking genius, a marvel.

It feels very nice. But it doesn’t necessarily come as naturally as men seem to think it does: there is pretence involved.

We have to sit at work pretending we’re not missing the children, or we have to sit with the children pretending we’re not missing work. We have to pretend that we are naturally exfoliated, buffed, highlighted, tweezed, plucked and veneered. We have to pretend that everything is pretty much effortless and that we are Superwoman."

/signed

Rime Of The Ancient Mariner

I can easily believe, that there are more invisible than visible Beings in the universe. But who shall describe for us their families? and their ranks and relationships and distinguishing features and functions? What they do? where they live? The human mind has always circled around a knowledge of these things, never attaining it. I do not doubt, however, that it is sometimes beneficial to contemplate, in thought, as in a Picture, the image of a greater and better world; lest the intellect, habituated to the trivia of daily life, may contract itself too much, and wholly sink into trifles. But at the same time we must be vigilant for truth, and maintain proportion, that we may distinguish certain from uncertain, day from night.

-- T. Burnet, Archaeol. Phil. p. 68 (1692)

Facile credo - these are the first words of the motto to 'Rime of the Ancient Mariner' by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Now, it talks about belief in supernatural beings, but I'm going to talk mostly about beliefs in natural phenomena. Some things are easier to believe than others, and I cannot bring myself to believe in some of the hypotheses, for example, on the origins of water on planet Earth.

Generally, I think we are unclear about the scope of the known and knowable. Science purports to describe the visible beings in the universe, and the modern man (not necessarily male;) firmly believes in science and scientific discoveries. However, when talking about ancient events, like 1 billion years ago, we have to acknowledge certain limits of accessibility to our knowledge. We don't know and we might never do, no matter how science progresses, much more than we now know about the Rodinia supercontinent, for example. Mapping out a supercontinent is as much a play of imagination as anything else.

Imagination also plays an important role in the above mentioned hypotheses on the origins of water. Liquid water is found only on Earth, although in other form it has been found elsewhere in the Solar system and interstellar clouds. The origins of water are traced back to the origins of the universe.

Here are the hypotheses listed in Wikipedia:

1. The cooling of hot gases were released causing "outgassing", potentially bringing water to Earth.
2. Comets, trans-Neptunian objects or water-rich asteroids (protoplanets) from the outer reaches of the asteroid belt colliding with a pre-historic Earth may have brought water to the world's oceans.
   
3. Liquid may have been "locked" in the Earth's rocks and leaked out over millions of years.
4. Photolysis. (Radiation can break down chemical bonds separating liquid from hard mass)
5. Rain and sandstorms may have pooled.

I like the 'may have been' modality here, signifying 'we don't know but we'd like to know'. A few words on each hypotesis:

1. Outgassing is producing gases from solids and is not the same as producing liquid water. It is the quantity of water that is puzzling here.
2. My favorite: the panaqua theory - asteroids bringing water to Earth, therefore life! It looks very much like putting all your eggs in one basket, though. And there are different claims as to the correspondence of isotopes found on comets with those in oceanic water.
3. May have. However, evidence suggests that water was present on Earth pretty early after its formation. Several hundred millions of years early, that is. This is pretty short time, considering that the age of Earth is now calculated at 4.5 billion years.
4. Photolysis - probably, the effect on light on chemicals. But again, there had to be MANY chemicals. And oxygen. What is the main source of oxygen - algae, and plants in general.^_^
5. Rain, wtf? I thought the formation of oceans preceded the formation of athmosphere, at least oxygen-rich atmosphere. Anyway, the whole water cycle is full of mysteries.

This post is getting ridiculously long, and I haven't said anything about the most recent experiments on producing life. This is because my point is that the Supernatural Man (TM) asks questions about life, the universe, and everything (water as part of everything), but at the same time makes myths, writes poetry, sings, loves, plays, translates (o rly), paints, and reads. And refuses to sink into trifles, habituated to the trivia of daily life.

Off to cook my pork stew with rice.

Unlikely?

И всеки път си казвам, че повече няма да поствам стихове, и все нещо става. Аз всъщност не си падам много по поезия:)

ЛУДОСТ

Викнах те, майсторе, къща насред село да ми вдигнеш –
като я зърнат селяците, чак до зори да не мигнат,
както са пусти душите им, тъй да са чашите пълни,
да ме заплюят мъжете, а пък жените – прокълнат…
Искам прозорците, майсторе, да ги направиш широки,
минеш ли, да те погледам. Нали съм зеленоока.
Да ме обикнеш майсторе, ще ти направя магия.
Като вълчица жена ти насред мегдана да вие,
и да се кръстят старците, и да ме плашат със Бога –
мога без Бога, майсторе, само без тебе не мога –
че ми е пусто в къщата, а пък в градината – суша.
…Като те виках, майсторе – луд ли бе, та ме послуша?

Венета Вълева

НОСЕТЕ СИ НОВИТЕ ДРЕХИ, МОМЧЕТА -
падаме, както ходим,
умираме, както спим.
Въпросите на тая планета
я решим,
я не решим…

Но не казвайте: утре ще бъдем красиви.
Не казвайте: утре ще бъдем щастливи.
Не казвайте: утре ще бъдем, ще бъдем…
Ще обичаме утре,
утре ще бъда любим.
Носете си новите дрехи, момчета,
падаме, както ходим,
умираме, както спим.

Не казвайте: утре ще почнем голямото,
днес да спечелим пари за прехраната.
Не казвайте: утре да бъдем честни,
днес тихичко
ще се проврем…
Носете си новите дрехи, момчета,
ходейки падаме,
сънувайки мрем.

Не казвайте: утре с вик на площада
ще кажа истината, после – на клада!
На клада, но утре. А днес потърпете,
днес се налага
да премълчим…
Носете си новите дрехи, момчета –
падаме, както ходим,
умираме, както спим!

Стефан Цанев

Мда, Стефан Цанев. Не обещавам, че няма да поствам и други негови неща.

Hell Breaking Loose

Haiku-edit:)

kids jumping on beds
often goes smoothly enough
this time hell broke loose

The fragile balance of life can be upset by the smallest thing, when it's, er, fragile. This bed was supposed to last for another three years. The plan was to design two separate rooms for kids when M. starts school and R. enters puberty. Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans:)

Anyway, Third Kid Plan is now officially cancelled.

Team Building With Ramen

I had an extraodinary dream about aliens.

Their space base on Earth looked like a hotel in the mountain where we got by bus(!). I even had my son with me. All the earthlings knew in advance they were participating in a volunteer experiment, and were provided with the test documentation, so we were aware we were being assessed. The overall objective was to test the level of compatibility of humanity with the alien race, and quite possibly, vice versa.

The hotel was something between 2 and 3 stars (stars are supposed to be huge balls of hot gas, not a measure of luxury:D). The aliens looked like humanoids at first glance, although some had wierd hairstyles (ok, some humans did too), and mingled with us in the lounge areas. We had our rooms but we were instructed not to spend much time there. There was a lake outside the hotel where we could swim and where my son almost drowned while playing with alien kids. There was a lawn of my favorite kind - not completely flat but slightly slopy. Food was served all the time, and sweets were a key ingredient in the menu. I vaguely remember that when you met an alien for the first time, you had to exchange sweets, so I had brought quite a lot. Some sweets remained at the end of the dream...

Which brings me to the confession that I was a grand failure in the experiment. I was so inadequate in communicating with aliens that it reminded me of a painful experience when I was about 11 and went to a folk dancers training camp where I couldn't talk to anyone (a piece of shameful account of my life, yep). Earthlings were almost as much an obstacle for me as aliens and I remember a few blunders of mistaken identity, which is a sign of absolute idiocy, because, you see, aliens gave you the creeps. Literally. When you looked an alien in the eye, there was a palpable tingling sensation in your backbone. They weren't horrific, they were just different. They laughed at different things, they talked about irrelevant (for me) stuff, and they exuded cruelty. I don't know why I thought them cruel, maybe this is my post-dream imagination playing tricks on me.

The dream ended abruptly while I was packing my bag to go. I knew I missed the bus which most other humans had already boarded. The team building was a flop, at least as far as I am concerned. I was so absorbed with myself and my reflections that I didn't even look at people, I refused to adjust my behavior to match theirs (or at least match the test criteria), and I expected them to adjust to me. After all, for them I am the alien, right?

This is my fear of strangers speaking, for those tempted to quote Freud;)