Wednesday, May 24, 2006


Let me out of this cheap B movie

If you've never seen anyone of the Beckett's plays you may find it difficult to figure out how I spent the last couple of days.

Mr.Charmes provided most of the script, with his behaviour which is one step – to say the least - into madness. Me, in spite of my efforts to behavive like a perfect ascetic, I'm completely overwhelmed by my feelings for him and I act more like a passionate geisha than like Siddharta. Great, uh?

Honestly, I'm trying hard to get a grip on myself and on my life, trying to eat regularly, do the common housekeeping chores, wake up everyday and simply go to work, without callin in sick or swearing all my way through the office.

When somone's most difficult task is "to have a normal life", if a justice existed things should simply align themselves to that, and proceed NORMALLY. I mean, I don't expect a better job, nor to win the lottery; I don't expect Mr.Charmes to be sensible and polite nor Thomas to be sane. None of these impossible things is on my list. I'd simply like things to go their way as smoothly as they can.


Yesterday morning I started my wonderful Monday with an email that started like this
"good morning. it is with great sorrow that i write to you this e-mail. you do not know me, but i am xx, close friend of yyy (a guy from the US navy I met a few years ago, and whom I still write to). He would always keep an envelope with me sealed when on deployment, never to be opened unless something unfortunate were to happen. well, don't know how or what to say about this but the envelope is opened. the following is left for you and I quote:.. "
ok guy. If this is a joke it's the worst joke ever. If it's not a joke, you're a complete asshole, contacting me like this, scaring the shit out of me, letting me think that he’s dead somewhere… when you still don't know what the heck has happened to him!
Yep, the following mail said something like “I haven’t heard from him nor from anyone else, but he was due to be back and he’s not” Is that enough for you to unseal envelopes, send emails over the ocean and so on?
Anyway, I still don't know much more about this story, but it really strucks me. Talk about starting my day with a smile…

After eight hour's work the only thing I wanted to do (apart from having Alzheimer and forget the US navy, Mr.Charmes and his bloody girlfriend, my job contract expiring in a month and so on) was to get back home, cook some healthy food, invite some friends for dinner and eventually chill out on the sofa with my cross stich on my knees and stuff.
But the curtains weren’t due to fall yet.
When I got home I firstly didn't understand what I saw.. I mean, my apartment floor is usually almost white while yesterday it looked like a cow's back. Well, call me a bloody racist but when it comes to my ex tidy and clean floor IT DAMN MATTERS IF IT'S BLACK OR WHITE.. After a few moments' shock, I realized what had happened. One of my cat was running around, tarred and feathered like a bad guy in a western movie.
What happened, you ask? Discarding the hypothesis that those furry monsters were rehearsing a short version of The good the cat and the ugly, the only possible explanation is the following: my landlord had tarred a small terrace close to my terrace without giving me a single word of advice, while some poor little bird killed by the cats had provided the feathers.
Do anyone of you out there know what is the only way to clean a tarred floor (and a tarred cat)? Yep, right. Oil is the only remedy.
Try to picture yourself, after a hard day, on your knees, rubbing the floor with seed oil. How's your mood? Now picture yourself - or what's left of it - trying to have a wild cat rubbed with seed oil and then washed with soap and rinsed. I think this is what happened to Kubrick before shooting A Clockwork Orange. Things like these leave a hard mark on your mind, kids.

When my closest friends ask me how I'm doing, I simply tell them they owe me 6.50 euros for the answer. This life's a movie and that’s the ticket price.

Almodovar should give me a call.

Title from: Headlong- The Queen

Tuesday, May 16, 2006's all right, I'm just weary to my bones

My head is numb. Better, it's full of crazy bees that fly frantically and buzz loudly. I still am unable to break free from the pain that Mr.Charmes' loss has caused me. I could write tons about the reasons why I feel the way I do, but I don't want to overanalyse, not now.

It's late at night and my whole day has been a fight , I'm tired and weary and I'm losing hope to feel any different.

Lord, it can't go on like this forever.. good things don't last forever, and so should bad things... easy to say, hard to believe..

The house is silent, the cats are quietly resting, my room is tidier than I remembered. It's time to stop this struggle within and breathe. So I sit down facing the white wall and trying to let the thoughts go by. They're sticky and toxic, and they're killing me. Slowly.



Meditation is over. So is my excruciating pain.
The ashes are still hot but there are no more flames. Hope it lasts until tomorrow.

I open the book on my bedside table. One sentence above the others captures my eyes.

Don't love anything so much that you become its slave.

I close the book. Last thing I put my eyes on before turning off the lights is the enso hangin on the wall.

It's been a good day, in the end.


title from: American Tune - Simon&Garfunkel

Sunday, May 14, 2006


Sunday Bloody Sunday

There's something wrong with the skin on my back. It's been 2 months now that it's been covered with red spots, something vaguely resembling herpes that has bothered me beyond imagination.
As I was going through a slightly stressful period (so to speak...) I thought I only needed some rest and some - try to guess.. - peace. I thought my body was asking for attention and my liver was tired. And I still think this could be one of the possible explanations.
During the sesshin I felt really better - and this event kind of confirmed my theory - but once I got home my back turned into the same pizza it was before..
Now, unless Mel Brooks was planning to shoot Spaceballs 2 and asked me to star as Pizza the Hut, I needed to put and end to this.
Last week I made my decision and went to see my doctor. Thruthfully speaking I don't put much trust in "conventional" medicine, but anyway..
As I expected, the doctor had no idea of what to say, I think he was just trying to guess between some hormonal disease (which I'm sure it's wrong), a virus from the aliens or a thyroid disfunction (which could be possible at last as almost every woman in my family has suffered from it..).
He ordered me to do blood tests for some 5 zillion euros.
Needless to say, if I had the money to pay for those tests I'd be on a holiday in Mauritius and I would have silk instead of skin on my back.
Anyway, I thought I could have killed two birds with one stone if I had gone to give blood to a hospital. Firstly I would have done something I've longed to do for many years but haven't been allowed as I was too thin. Secondly, as they always make some blood test before accepting you as a donor, I could have saved some money, then go to a laboratory to have the rest of my tests done.
This morning I woke up at the crack of dawn - even if it's Sunday - and went to the medical center.
I felt great. I was going to do something useful for me and for the others. Wow. Not even 9 o'clock and I was going to do the first good action of the day.
They had me waiting for some 20 minutes, then asked me to fill a questionary, then called me for a quick visit before the donation.
The doctor was tall and kind. My blood pressure was ok. My questionary was ok. My weight was borderline (half a kilo less and it would have been too little). My hemoglobin was (and is) outrageously low..

doctor - well, I can't take any blood from you, unless you come back with a hemoglobin of at least 12. Yours is 10, if you give blood you may have troubles in reforming all your blood cells.

me - ok, then.. maybe I can come back some other time, I'll try to "recover" in the meanwhile...

doctor - yes, of course. One thing left: ask your doctor to order you some tests. You might need a check up.

me - yeah, right. Why haven't I thought about it myself...

Today's title from: Sunday Bloody Sunday - U2

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Today's my 34th birthday.

Peace of heart is what I'm wishing myself.

Piece of cake is what I'd like to share with you all.

Friday, May 05, 2006


Seek and destroy

I'm pissed off beyond words can say. I don't want to go into any detail, as the whole thing is not worth a single thought. People are people, the sooner I give up my naive illusions about everybody being basically good, the best for me.

As at the moment I'm still at work and I'm not able to actually do anything, best thing I can do is write a short list of

do's and dont's for when you're really really pissed off:

1) Picture yourself as the incredible Hulk and imagine crashing the moron's skull on a wall and smashing it like a walnut (repeat at libitum until you calm down or actually turn green)

2) Write something down. Draw. Let your rage become an object, something out of you, something you can look at. Don't let it become "yourself"

3) Be truth to your feelings. Don't try to sort the mess out immediately if the only thing you want to do is killing someone. Wait for the slaughtering craving to pass. If it doesn't pass, consider buying lots of books. It'll be very boring, in jail...

4) Always try to find an explanation for what has happened, try to understand why people behave like they do. Maybe you've started the process, even without noticing. But don't lie to yourself, don't justify everybody: a filthy bastard is a filthy bastard, no matter how hard you analyse it.

5) If you can, don't lower your "attitude level" to match anyone else's. I.E. don't swear like a sailor just because the person you're having a fight with does.

6) Don't say things you don't think just because you're hurt. They really can kill. And are hardly forgiven if ever forgotten.

7) Allow yourself the chance to really vent about your rage. Scream, smash something (your mommy's crystal glasses are never a good item for this purpose..), run. Let your body detoxicate from anger.

8) When you feel the time has come, relax the best way that you can. Yoga, chocolate, shopping, meditation, prayers, flattering friends.. choose what really fits you and don't spare yourself anything good.

.. ok, it may have been totally useless for anybody else, but now I feel better. The unworthy asshole's head is safe from my green fury. I quit the Hulk's behaviour.

But, thinking it over, if Hulk's not the answer, maybe Kenshiro is...

His rotten head is due to explode in 10 seconds from now...9...8....7....

Today's title from: Seek and Destroy - Metallica

Thursday, May 04, 2006


Sex and zen

Not that anybody cared (apart this witty friend at the Hamster's cage, maybe) but.. well, this in the picture is more or less what I've been doing during the last weeks.

Besides destroying what was left of my dignity making love to the most unfitting man in the world. Who, much to my disgrace, fits me like a glove when in bed.

Well, to cut it short, I badly need a real vacation from this world.

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