Let the old f...ing year die a hero's death

I have never been so happy of the end of a year. Tomorrow I will say goodbye to many things. I won't be sorry of most of them. Getting older can be a problem. Getting more experienced can be arguable. Getting less time to finish the life can be frightening. Getting one more chance is blessing.

Take your glass
full of champagne
and say "goodbye"
to many of your sins
don't look back
just drunken morning
will show you
cruelly soberly
new hell where
you will be dying a hero's death
the new year
2006

Christmas, Christmas and fish are dead!

Some Christmas cooking:
In Poland we have traditionally twelve dishes, mainly based on vegetables and fish (fasting).
We prepare different salads, bigos, a carp (in jelly, in tomatoes (or "Greek"), fried etc.), some herrings in various sauces, dumplings with sauerkraut and mashrooms, borsch with ravioli (uszka), sauerkraut with peas, sauerkraut with mashrooms (porcini mashrooms reccomended), sardines, tuna, cakes (not made of fish, thanks god), kutia, cookies and many more, dependently on a region.
Last year some people from church decide to interfere in the tradition (normal thing) and they allowed people to eat meat. However, it is absolutely impossible to consume mince dishes at my home because we still respect our customs.

The same with the name. Even though some of us aren't Christians, we prefer calling it "Christmas" to calling it Other-F...ing-Name. I really can't understand why people have some objectives about the name. If it is the Christian festival and our decision is to celebrate it, let's respect the name of it in the form it is known. If I decided to take part in some Jewish or Muslim festivals, I wouldn't demand them to change the name of it because I am not Jewish or Muslim! Absurdity! However, if you haven't got problems or you want people to stop thinking about their real problems, create some substitute. The less important, the better. Just make them
take some of their free time to think about some nonsenses. They wouldn't have time and will to discuss some real dangers or anxieties.

and here is my Christmas Tree:

Holy.... S....

As we can observe, a man is a kind of creature completely dependent on fiction. We can watch thousands running in shops, looking for presents, whatever it would be, only to be. They seem to be frightened, not by the fact that they are getting silly but by the fact that people surrounded them would notice them as not-inventive, not-imaginative, not-impressive, not-not-not... The real fact that they are not-... is not a problem, buhahaha.

beautiful winter

How does it happen that such phenomenons like inventions and creations disappear as soon as I start talking to someone about them. GGGRRRRR Lack of any thought, I try to do something like a human. Tic, tac, it's time. Yes, the only thought am I sure of is that it's highest time to disappear like my flying intelligence, good night!

no time, no time

no time for me
no time for any
breath
one two three
the more, the more
dying
crazy want to be lazy
some time for me
some time to live

I haven't written for such a long time because I have been in mourning for my grandma. Words have seemed so naive and without their spells’ power up to the very moment. Now, I can speak about that. She is gone and nothing could help that.

The time of experiencing death of the person close to you is a very strange period, in which all the people around become shadows and you become a kind of ghost too. I have never gone through such a difficult time.
13 years ago I lost my grandpa. I was away and one beautiful June’s day I received a phone call with the message of his death. I knew that he had been ill for a long time; I had visited him in hospital. I wasn’t near him in his last minutes. I didn’t see him after his vanishing. Perhaps I was younger and the world was calling for me to return from the path of sorrow. However, I couldn’t get used to the thought that I would never see him again. I often talk to him, believe in his presence.

Now I have allowed myself to immerse into suffering and loss.
I saw my grandma on a day before she left. I told her: “See you tomorrow” and kissed her forehead, caressed her head and smiled sadly. She looked at me reproachfully as she wanted to say: “Can’t you see I am dying.” I can almost hear despair and fear in her voiceless complaint. I prayed not to hear that loudly. I was on the edge. My nerves were frayed.
I had been watching her dying for almost two months. It hurts.
That is blessing that she doesn’t suffer any longer.
There are many things which I have learnt recently and one of them is that you are never prepared for ultimate leaving of someone you love. The part of you dies then. You are unable to be prepared for your own dying.


My Grandma about my age

holiday's over

So many important things have already happened. Death and life have appeared in a very desperate way and scratched my heart painfully.

To start with, I must tell a story about Prague because that one is exceptionally positive in comparision to the rest of stories I collected during summertime.
The story of pictures...



That's the first part of my story about Prague.

The great time – holidays!!!

Some reflections about present holiday:

This year is quite (quite) different. The whole world decided to involve me in few drastic situations, especially based on the subject “Life & Death”.

Most of the people who I treat as a family are attacked by several kinds of diseases. The nightmare of cancer, incurable, destroying, cutting the roots of human feelings enemy, with which the battle is already lost. Only can I observe the slow vanishing.
The medical system is broken down because most people working in are simply the lost in giant, handicapped machinery. They don’t respect human being any more; they don’t treat a life as a miracle. It’s the process of the system which is out of order. The end is always the same so what’s the difference what they do now? What should I think observing someone I love writhing in pain and the so called professional medical staff looking at the suffering with cold eyes, slurping tea, hanging on the phone (in private business), not looking for the origins of the pain but only killing it with popular drugs, only for a moment, only for “fuck off”.

More I walk on the earth, more I want to use the gun. Sometimes putting the gun to the forehead of a responsible one would be the way to persuade him/her that it means he/she is to do something. How many people would stay alive???

lack of time?

upppsss! I have it again. A chronic lack of time. Although, it's funny because comparing the time I have now (time, let's define as 'private') with the time I didn't have about a half a year ago, I really have plenty of it. However, it's not enough. Maybe, it's a matter of a whip-lash which should swish over my head. I don't know. Perhaps, I'm just tired again. Falling deeply into my dreams, into imaginations, into visions... Would like to hang out, would like to sleep peacefully, would like to stop thinking for a minute. Can't stop realising things, analysing them, hipothysing, planning, changing, hopelessness...
That can be the kind of neurosis. I need a rest. A lot of it...

However, when it is a day without duties I can't stop thinking though.
Silence! Have my thoughts silenced!

wwwwwwwgggggggggggggggggggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

what about the future?

I've just taken decision. If I have enough of men, I will just go to Sumatra to work with ORANGUTANS, especially baby-ones... As a pedagog I will manage, I promise!

some links:
http://www.enchantedlearning.com/subjects/apes/orangutan/
www.orangutans-sos.org/
www.orangutan.org/home/home.php

a moral tale

The story about a dog which didn’t like a man...

There was a dog, red-haired, small, very similar to a small fox with the row of small but extremely sharp teeth. There was a path around the small housing estate. The path led through some bushes and long grass. It was usually used by walkers and dogs.
There was a businessman with a black leather suitcase, crossing the car park, on his way home.
- Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!!

The time stopped. The man skipping with the dog hanging at his leg.
The time exploded.
We observed the businessman discovered some issues about the values of his miserable life. The kind of trauma experience would ever stay in his memory... The dog tasted blood, its eyes more red-brown, teeth wanted more...
What’s the moral?

You don’t know who, when and where will bite to remind you the sense of whatever.

more about spring

Right, uuuhhh...
Spring. Some allergies, some rain and sunny spells... People are coughing and sneezing. They are suffering from the spring. Once did I suffer, few weeks ago? Treacherous sun shone at me and burnt my skin... I looked like a strawberry. Headache couldn’t allow me to think. My reflections were burnt into black ash.

Laziness - the effect of constantly changing weather. It rains, it blows, a little bit of sunshine, it rains again. Very tiring. Just listen to the music and have some dreams, look through the window and eavesdrop others, observe their lives, guess their future... Perhaps, there is somebody who does the same with my existence? What about you who has just read that idea?

spring

Spring has sprung high in the green, touched the sky and kissed the sun.
It's really nice. Thousands of Poles has been escaping from big cities to catch a little bit of the miracle (fresh air, sun, water and kids around). They are waiting in traffic jams, kilometers away from the destiny, hoping the nightmare is close to the end, almost smelling the grilled sausages.
Others, stuck inside the shopping malls, unhappy because of the business (too little clients - owners) or (too many clients - assistants).
Anothers, opening their computers, are wondering "what the hell am I doing?" but... the yellow cursor is glittering on a screen, the heart is beating stronger and louder. Fine...

JP2

Few missing words

I haven’t written for such a long time but now I am not able to write anything except: JP2

I am not a papist. I don’t feel like a catholic. I was brought up to be a catholic though. My mother promised on the day of my christening, in presence of the bishop and his boss (God) that she would do everything she could to make me believe in Christian God. And she really tried and did her best. I went to church at least once a week; I was active during each kind of holidays, my parents tried to answer my most difficult and strange questions. However, I was growing up and as it is natural, my parents lost their control over my soul.
While discovering the dark side of Church on my own (it’s bloody history, crimes, injustice, hierarchy, money, money, money UUUhhh) I realized I didn’t want to have anything in common with such a hypocritical institution. Moreover, the institution itself did me a favour to shut me out of it’s room. The parson in a church to which our family was written to belong (sometimes people choose their own church but most of them are members of the nearest church in the place they live), decided to cross me out the list of people being the members of this particular parish. Still I wonder what caused him to do it so radically. After having checked some kind of notes he told me: “I don’t think you are our member any more.” And he hung the phone up. In such a way my adventure with the Holy Church has stopped. My personal dialogue with God has started.

However, the second day of April, before my birthday the Christian God decided to take the Pope John Paul II to his kingdom.
Happy Birthday!!!– the God spoke to me...
Anyway, it was the time when I started to think about my faith, my poor country, life and death and some other crucial issues without any supreme answer.

My poor country: so harmfully experienced, so beautiful, old and modern, full of superstitions, nonsense, wisdom, thieves, charity, misfortune and heart... Suddenly it became the centre of catholic cult of the One. Everybody forgot about some misunderstandings between them personally and the institution of church. They jointed in pain and sorrow, decided to go abreast in the funeral procession, light the candles and murmur the words of Lord’s Prayer. Streets full of people, tears, caddish, sights, glow of colourful candles, pictures of the Pope – Our Pope. At 12, each day of the National Mourning life in Poland stopped for a minute. At 21:37 people gathered on the streets, lit candles, prayed, cried. This moment will ever stay in my memory – the moment when the lights in houses were switched off, bells in churches rang loudly and people stopped and tears flew on their faces. I don’t think I will experience such emotions ever in future.

sort of writing

a lot of people practise some kinds of writing.
the question remains the same - what for?
my friend supposed that the answer is the lack of sexual satisfaction.
some "fertile" poets or writers commit a sort of masturbation everyday to feel their fantasies in the real life to achieve some sexual pleasure. interesting...
shall I commit writing yet? or maybe sate somewhere else? intriguing...

disease

What kind of disease is able to kill you totally?
The question is provoked by thousands of people suffering all days and nights because their organisms are too exhausted to keep fighting. Sometimes it is the fault of the whole environment, sometimes the collapse of thoughts.
What could happen if we believed that it was the end and ... nothing else?
What could happen if, looking at the mirror, we didn't see our faces but some dead masks?
What could happen if we lost our dreams, memories and wishes?
I can admit that it can be the short-time absence from sort of reality or from the fertile life. However, the state can change into the fatal illness? Moreover, into bloody hell incurable infection or even the kind of plague?




short song about dying:

One by one, everybody's coming down,
without a hope or a touch of some,
we're coming down...
but the kind of smile
the grin of
the memory
such a fatal theory
that the love will cure
for sure,
flying away into the nothing...
however, happy we are
at last, coming down :)

what about the friend who has already gone?

such a small creature who crashed our days by his leaving... he opened the door to the other side and just left, looking at us sadly and hopelessly. with this horrible understanding that nothing could be done. it happened almost a month ago but hurts until today badly. I'm even afraid that it will ever. the incurable disease - cancer which is eating all of material things inside, leaving no hope for untouched soul. the fatal observation of the every single day taking your love away. the farewell. relief. pain again.

worth of life?

Excuse me, how much does the life cost? No, not this one. That over there. No, no, you must turn left, cold, cold, warm, hot!!! Never mind. Used? Oh, that's normal these days. A little bit hurt and bitten? Hmmm... it has experienced much, yeh? We shall manage. Many holes and scratches aren't the problem. Would you sell it or not? I'm determined, you know, I love to have the new life. No, thank you but I have just made my mind up. I'm going to take this one. Yes, please, as you are so kind. Which paper? Maybe that one, so nicely black. No ribbons, thanks. Oh, great. How much is it? Jesus Christ! So much for such a little, crumpled, boring and ridiculous life! Good Heavens! I will be a bankrupt! Thank you very much.

men are noble???!!!!

we call it "positive backwash" in methodology ;)
I had my first exam this year and I suppose (very much suppose) I have done it well!
moreover - my tutor accepted my culture project so I have one thing less to do in next few months. only 100 other works left!

about such days my friend is used to saying:

'THE LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL AND MEN (!!!) ARE NOBLE'

new year's death

my dearest sadness,

what to do to stop all the living miracles dying?
what to avoid their suffering?
how far should I go to get the answer?
how many paths and tears to go through?

look forward to receiving from you soon

niuton