Human heart is a curious thing.
It has, for example, remarkable powers of healing. I suppose that's necessary if we wish to spend this life in a relative absence of deranged running down the street with our knickers on our head screaming obscenities at god.
However, I assume that for these alms of the spirit to work, one has to be willing to apply them. I know of quite a few people who wallow in their misery, who see nothing but their broken dreams, who pine for things they cannot have and are blind to things right in front of them. Such ways only, in the end, bring us to the aforementioned naked lunatic exhibition sessions.

The process of healing is a remarkably simple one. It doesn't require a lot of materials or complicated surgery. I, for example, used a roll of duct tape, a rubber elephant and some bird spit. Oh yes. And some sleep. It's amazing what sleep will do to you. And dreams. Dreams are the nectar of the soul. It is up to us, really, to determine the flavor. I prefer the not-so-bitter-you-want-to-bite-your-own-head-off kind.

And in the end, there's the wish. The will. Who cares, both start with the same letter. It's the oomph of the mind, the effort of thought, that drives us forward like divine wind upon our cosmic sails. The wish to plug that crack that bursts with a poet's blood, to repair the hole in the sole. And then, it begins, the healing.

So in order to heal, you have to will it.

Amazing how many people miss that simple fact.

Ali ne. Svaki dan bi trebao biti takav. Uglavnom, neću puno filozofirati o tome, ipak je ovo vrijeme da se maknem od kompjutera i približim finoj papici, ali htio bi ipak reći svima koji ovo čitaju: ako danas provedete dobar dan, sjetite se da istu stvar možemo nositi u srcu svaki dan. A i ako niste, to ne znači da već slijedeće minute nećete imati priliku za "malo poboljšanje svijeta" - naša djela, ma koliko se činila malima, odzvanjaju u vječnosti.

U "sezonskoj" civilizaciji, gdje postoji vrijeme i mjesto ama baš za sve, ja kažem, budimo buntovnici i pokažimo da je mjesto i vrijeme za ljubav, za srdačnost, za velikodušnost - svaki dan i svako mjesto.

Svima koji ovo pročitaju, želim sretan Božić.

-G.

Pa da i ovdje stavim taj tekstić što ga osmislih pod (laaaaganim, u tome je caka) utjecajem alkohola dok smo se ja i jedna moja frendica "opijali" jučer u jednom zgodnom bircu kojeg fakat nikad ne bi našao sam (neću reć koji je jer vjerojatno svi znaju za njega pa bum ispal tumplek, Which Is Not Good For Public Relations):

Gledam kako se, što se Božić i Nova Godina sve više bliže, množe postovi raznoraznih forumaša koji su, eto, zapali u depresiju poput hrčka kojem se zaglavio kotač za trčanje. I onda si mislim, kako to da mene ne pere ista depra... mislim, nije da je moja situacija nešto puno drugačija od ovih o kojima čitam. I sjetim se kako me ustvari prala depra prije kojih pola godine. Tad sam bio u žestokom klinču neuzvraćene ljubavi i puštao sam suzice gotovo triput tjedno (no joke). Ljudi oko mene primjetili su kolko sam se promjenio... prestao sam se smijat. A to je za osobu koja je inače izuzetno vedrog duha velika promjena.

I to je kvaka sa depresijom... to je spirala koja ide samo dolje. Samu sebe hrani. Začarani krug...

No, kad se činilo da nema izlaza iz te moje depresije, našao sam svoj Zen. Našao sam ono što mi je trebalo da se ponovno posadim "u plodnu zemlju života svog"... ustvari, ono što mi je trebalo da počnem primjećivati i ono dobro što imam, a ne samo ono što nemam. O, i dalje ja osjećam povremenu usamljenost kako me stegne, i dalje mi se desi da me ta glad za nečijom ljubavi skoli... no sad me ti vjetrovi ne bacaju unaokolo, više nisam tek grančica u oluji. Našao sam svoj Zen, svoj korijen.

E sad... što je to Zen? To je uvid, osjećaj, nešto čemu se uvijek možemo vratiti, sigurni da će, jednom kad ga nađemo, uvijek biti s nama. Zen ukorijenjuje, Zen oslobađa. Ne čini da svi naši problemi nestanu, no čini da vidimo i dalje od njih...

Ne može se reći da postoji univerzalni Zen za svakoga. Upravo obrnuto... svatko ima svoj. Za mene, moj Zen je bilo prisjećanje vlastite srži. Prisjetio sam se onog što sam zaboravio da je u meni. Činjenica da sam puko skroz u to vrijeme i da sam iz čistog obrambenog refleksa potegao nazad u duhovnost (u trenu kad sam uvidio svoj Zen čitao sam Tao te Ching) je samo dokaz da se Zen ne pronalazi tek tako. U nama mora biti ta iskrena potreba za mirom, za oslobođenjem...

I tako, pišem ovo ne da bi dijelio lekcije, nego da na svoj način, koliko se to da, kažem onima koji su sada u depresiji, koji ne znaju kamo, kuda, kako, da im kažem, "nađite svoj Zen!". Gdje i kako ćete ga pronaći nije toliko važno (to niti ne možete znati dok ga ne nađete), ono što je važno je otputiti se u tu potragu. Tražite svoj Zen, tražite ga svaki dan. Sam čin te potrage već je proboj iz one strmoglavljujuće spirale koja nas želi usisati poput crne rupe. Želim samo reći da se odgovor nalazi u vama, i u toj potrazi. Ne u pukom životarenju i iživljavanju u tupilo koje nudi samo privremeni zaborav.

Vaš Osobni Zen možda ne nudi rješenje svih problema, ali omogućuje mir u duhu koji nas oslobađa da od svojeg života napravimo sve što se napraviti da...

-G.

...You load sixteen tons, what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store

If you see me comin', better step aside
A lotta men didn't, a lotta men died
One fist of iron, the other of steel
If the right one don't a-get you, then the left one will

You load sixteen tons, what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go
I owe my soul to the company store...

Svaki put kad se moram ustat u šest, ovo mi padne na pamet... *yawn*
It's good to be a student... :)

Evo ovdje link za one koje zanima cijela pjesma i background...

...se skriva mali filozof. Naročito u današnja vremena. To jest, *isključivo* u današnja vremena, jer su prije, suočimo se s tim, vitezovi uglavnom bili metalom oklopljeni gadovi. Što par dobro napisanih ljubića može napraviti za odnose sa javnošću...

No danas stvari stoje drugačije. Danas se više ne vitla mačem u ime pravde (osim u slobodno vrijeme), već u igru ulaze mnoga druga pomagala. Moderni vitezovi se više ne mogu osloniti na spoznaju da, ako se netko ne slaže s prosvijetljenim, uzvišenim pogledom na život, uvijek možemo kreativno primijeniti golemi čekić po njihovoj kacigi. Danas to više ne pali. Danas je potrebno nešto više. Potreban je novi kodeks. Potrebna je, drugim riječima, nova filozofija.

Kako sam prije napisao, moja ideja novog kodeksa ide nekako ovako:

"A Knight always serves the Truth through loyalty to Truth, Valor through facing the Truth and Compassion through awareness of the Truth."

Sad, to je, kako već Kodeksi idu, jako mali kodeks. Nema čak niti zlatom optočene korice. Čak nema niti mističnih simbola! Ustvari, da ovo pokušam progurati kao kodeks nekog tajnog društva, bio bi odmah ismijan budući da nije čak niti zlokobno misteriozan. No, u sebi krije mnogo više nego što se čini na prvi pogled... a i činjenica jest da debele pravilnike pišu ljudi koji ne vjeruju da će se isti poštovati.


Vitez uvijek služi Istini kroz odanost istini.
Ke to znači sad? Jednostavno, to znači da Istini možemo služiti tek ako je čvrsto ukorijenimo u vlastitom duhu... ponekad to zahtijeva i žrtvu s naše strane, no nitko nije rekao da je uvijek lako bit vitez. Swooning women are a perk, though. :D

...Srčanost kroz suočavanje sa Istinom...
E da. Istina počesto zahtijeva poveliku dozu suočavanja. A suočavanje sa istinom ponekad može biti vrlo otrežnjavajuće. Kako većina ljudi preferira lagano pijanstvo tokom cijelog života, ovdje vitez istupa iz gomile. Najteže se suočiti sa Istinom o samom sebi. To je, ustvari, borba koja traje cijeli život. A najveća bitka dolazi tek na kraju. Poetično, neki bi rekli.

...Suosjećajnost kroz poznavanje Istine...
Nema prave suosjećajnosti bez poznavanja onog prema čemu gajimo tu emociju. Sve emocije su stanje duha, i zato je važno za *znamo* ono prema čemu osjećamo. Uzmimo ljubav naprimjer. Bez *poznavanja* onog što volimo, mi ustvari volimo tek fikciju, a ne pravu stvar, prisutnu u ovom svijetu. A koja je poanta u tome da se bude suosjećajan prema magli? Prema iluziji, triku glave? Zato vitez uvijek stremi tome da svoje najplemenitije osjećaje usmjerava baš tamo gdje su jedino potrebni - prema Istini i Istinitom svijetu.

I tako dolazimo do toga da možda nije svaki filozof vitez, ali svaki vitez je nužno filozof. Jer filozof je u vječnoj potrazi za tom Istinom... dok je svaki vitez sluga Istine. Sluga onog pravog, blistavog, prosvjetljujućeg svijeta koji nas okružuje u svakom trenutku života, a koji nam tako često izmiče ispod pogleda... potraga za Istinom, vječita je potraga.

-G.

Zanimljiv dan... išao sam pokazat svoje viteške kvalitete jednoj djevi, a onda zaboravio ponijet oklop. Eto. Sva sreća da se vitezom biva u prsima junačkim, a ne u plehu na njima. Bila su to zanimljiva dva i pol sata priče... obožavam ovak susretat ljude preko interneta. Imam osjećaj da se najbolji skrivaju baš tu, u nepreglednim elektroničkim morima. U svakom slučaju, da nije neta, moj socijalni život bi bio mnogo dosadniji... u proteklih par godina, ljubio sam, bio ljubljen, lomili su mi srce i liječili dušu, upoznao sam i bio upoznavan, gradio prijateljstva i lomio ih... i opet se vraćam na one moje stare štorije, kako svatko ima svoju priču...

I kako prolazimo jedni pored drugih! Ponekad bi htio znati sve... a sve nitko ne zna. Kako ponekad malo cijenimo prilike koje imamo, tek da znamo nečiji svijet, tek da ugledamo izlazak sunca nad horizontima koji su samo njihovi...

Neki kažu, internet je beživotan, to nije to, ne možeš na taj način upoznati nikoga... kako su u krivu. Jer iza svakog slova, iza svake slike, stoji nečija ruka, nečiji snovi, noćne more, nade i strahovi... ta svjetlosna mreža je živa, poput neke čudne kreacije prolupalih bogova... pehar nektara za one koji znaju vidjeti gdje i kako iz svega toga uhvatiti nekog za ruku i povući... biti povučen. Iz jednog avatara u drugi. Ali, tako je to.
Svi smo mi električne krijesnice u noći.

-G.

Jutro... polako se budim, slušam radnike kako razbijaju asfalt, bruj njihovih strojeva narušava tišinu. Sjećam se prošle večeri... bilo je zabavno. Opet sam izašao s njom, opet je srce malo brže kucalo (barem u mojim prsima junačkim), opet sam imao odgovore na sva njezina pitanja, na sve njezine dileme. Uvijek je tako sa mnom, na zalazu dana. Imam odgovor na sve. Večeri su pijane, opio nas je sadržaj dana, i to je to.

Ali su zato jutra trijezna, i bez odgovora. Filozof u meni raduje se nedodirljivosti istine, makar na tren. Skrivena je u magli koja teče od rijeke i miluje utihle zgrade pune uspavanih ljudi. Jutra su trijezna, i bez odgovora, i zato su sva okrutna smaknuća ujutro... kad tek možemo nazrijeti rađanje novog sunca koje ipak, nećemo vidjeti. Kad čovjek nema odgovor, kad um nije zamagljen...

Da, zora nema istine koju bih mogao držati poput deke preko svoje glave, nema odgovora, nema čak niti pitanja. Ostaje samo ono što dolazi, nepoznato, možda uzbudljivo... možda ne. Ostaje dan. Život. Tišina zastalog daha prije poniranja u te vode, poput neke ptice koja kljunom nabada slučajno srebro u tami...

-G.

What is the deal with knighthood? Where do you start? What in the ten thousand squid hells IS a knight nowadays anyway?
Well, I can't really say what a knight is. I could talk about what I am but aside from making me feel like a teacher feels when he repeats the same damn thing for the umpteenth time, it's also painfully boring. I could also talk about what I think other people are, but raging enemies are bad for digestion. Especially if they want to stick a piece of steel in it.

So instead one should speak of what a knight should be today. Not yesterday, hell a few hundred years ago they were still just metal-clad maniacs with big swords. All that honor-and-duty is simply bribed minstrels mucking about.

So, to start us off, let us first define what we speak of. What does the word "knight" mean? Well, let's see. It's derived from the Saxon word for a "servant". Ah. Tells a lot. A knight is supposed to serve something. And chivalry? Well, it actually means "service on horseback". Bummer, where the hell will we get a horse these days. No, I say, let's change that. Let's change chivalry into chevalry - service in chevrolet. It's a cool line of cars, and you can also "levy in a chevy", which is something every rhyme-loving damsel in distress should swoon at!

So now we know that modern knights are people who serve a higher goal while driving cool and expensive cars, or failing that, people who serve a higher goal while driving a bycicle. Or a Pinto, whichever is worse.

Service
Let us focus on the service part of the knightly business. To be a knight, it is not enough that you simply follow the guidelines of honesty, bravery and compassion. You must also pack that into some higher goal which you can faithfully serve and thus feel vastly superior to the common peasantry of everyday life, and therefore succeed perfectly in being an annoying arse of a man who fails not to wring everyone's brains bone dry with his superfluous oratories and leave them sobbing in the misery of truly anti-orgasmic proportions.
No wait. That's a politician.

A higher goal is a simple thing. It is not necessarily a thing of titanic or even heroic proportions. It is enough that it rests upon the ground higher than that which you are resting your spiritual feet on. For example, constant betterment of the world is a nice, rounded goal which should be appealing to every errant chevy driver. You can even fail miserably at it and feel all penitent for a day or two without killing anyone. And it does not require you to lose your legs, arms and ears in some insane battle with the evildoers of the world - bettering the world goes all the way from stopping a mad scientist from unleashing a nuclear warhead into the core of the world and burning every city on this planet with liquid hot mag-ma, to simply helping a little old lady cross the street and then dodging a vicious blow from her crutch when she figures out you must be trying to ravish her because nobody today can be that nice.

So, what is a knight? Simply a man serving ideals of truth, valor and compassion. You can serve truth by doing your best to become a really good philosopher, so you can skillfully dodge accusations of various people who figured out that truth ain't absolute. But mainly you serve the truth by always being honest with yourself and with people around you. Even if they don't like it. Hell, even if YOU don't like it!

Valor is served by drinking stuff out of umarked bottles in suspicious-looking laboratories. No wait, that's stupidity. You serve valor properly only if you sharpen your mind daily. Only then can you know when to charge and when to sidle-around inconspicuously.

And compassion is the ability to know how much pain you apply by the way of your iron-studded boot. We all got spikes on our feet, no matter how many times we go to the manicurist. Compassion is simply the awareness of another's condition, their problems, worlds and ideas. Compassion is the respect for the common living being. It is the ballast on the hot air baloon of our ego.

Or to put it succintly, the Code of the modern knight could be:

A Knight always serves the Truth through loyalty to Truth, Valor through facing the Truth and Compassion through awareness of the Truth.

And from that you can be... anything...

Simple, ain't it? Try combining the damn things. Cheers!

Još jedna zora se odmata pred mojim očima. Zanimljivo je gledat svjetla u tvornici, svjetla u uredima... ovaj grad zbilja pozna neke ranoranioce među šefovima. Il su to njihove sekretarice. Il možda lopovi. Ko bi ga znao.

Danas ujutro me čeka zubar. Yay, can't wait! Gah.

Anyway, jučer sam sreo jednu poznanicu na faksu, malo smo popričali i usput sam saznao službene kriterije za prestanak statusa brucoša. Kaže cura, prestaješ biti brucoš ako:

-položiš ili padneš ispit
-prođeš kolokvij (opcija za štrebere... like me) heh heh
-zavedeš nekoga sa više godine (opcija za one koji vole majku znanja na kraju godine)
-prasneš se sa asistentom/icom il profesorom/icom (brrrr... that's a mental picture I really didn't need)

U svakom slučaju, još jedan dokaz da je oko 80% ljudi na FF-u ludo ko puške. Dovoljno je vidjet zidne dekoracije u KSFF-u... originalno. :)

I tako. Sad pišem malo prije spavanja, sutra ću ak stignem stavit neke nove idejice online... heh heh heh. Večeras je bilo... pa, ustvari je bilo baš dobro. Išli smo u Gjuru, ja, *ona* (zašto imam osjećaj da svaki drugi blogger ima tu nevjerojatnu *nju* ili *njega*...), njezina sestra i par frendica... I was surrounded. :p Bila je ok atmosfera, gledao sam malo ljude, koliko različitih faca se može naći u samo jednom zagrebačkom podrumu. I svi oni prolaze, komešaju se, lica kao na pokretnoj traci, svatko ima svoju priču. I muzika pljušti preko svih poput neke užurbane deke. Jednom sam gledao grad izdaleka, s vidika, gledao sam prozore i svjetla i hiljadu priča... pitao se što stoji iza tih zavjesa, kakvi životni romani se pišu baš tu noć. I sada, tamo, nikako da od toga pobjegnem (a možda niti ne želim), promatrao sam lica i oči i opet se pitao kakvi se svjetovi odmataju iza tih zjenica...

Bio je također neki performans, tip je na kraju pokupio dugačak pljesak, iako sam nisam opće skužio kaj je pjesnik htio reć (naročito kad je ritnuo mikrofon u zid i sve nas počastio onim visokim piskom koji dobiješ kad... ritneš mikrofon u zid...), al neka. Bilo je originalno. Naročito je bio dobar dio kad si je okačio nekakvu kantu o vrat i počeo je mlatit sa impromptu batovima...

E da... bila je tu i ona... nismo pričali onoliko koliko inače pričamo, ipak je muzika bila preglasna za takve šprehe, a i drugačija je bila neka atmosfera... Razmišljao sam koji ona ima efekt na mene, nit sam ponekad ne vjerujem da netko može imat tak pozitivan utjecaj na mene po defaultu. To je prava stvar, kad imaš tako nekog. Čija te sama blizina nekako zagrije, ušuška i onda si miran ko bubica. Nekad sam znao bit u grču... stalno bi se grabao za "nešto više"... sad - sad sam miran, nije da me nije briga što će bit, jel ćemo mi završit skupa il ne, al već znam da je dobro. I ono što kažu, ljudi nikad nisu zadovoljni s onim što imaju. Svi gledaju horizonte, to je ta vječita potjera za Savršenim. A onda propuste onih hiljadu trenutaka koji možda nisu savršeni ali su *dobri* i to je ok. I na kraju dođeš do tog horizonta i skužiš da pred tobom nema više ničeg osim tog crnog ponora... i osvrneš se i to mora da je gadan trenutak, kad se star čovjek osvrne na svoj život pred kraj i vidi napokon u čistom svjetlu koliko je toga prošlo pored njih dok su jurili tom autocestom života.

Čovjek bi, nekako si razmišljam ovih dana, trebao savladati tu umjetnost življenja dan po dan. Nekako njušim da je to onaj ključ za pravu sreću. Kad ne juriš toliko brzo da propuštaš one sitnice od kojih se na kraju i sastoji taj fantomski dobar život.

U svakom slučaju, dobra zabava i dobar kraj inače dobrog dana. Idem spat snom pravednika.
Možda ću sanjat ružičaste patke.

-G.

Ništa ne testira volju kao ustajanje u 6.30 nakon tri sata spavanja - zbog predavanja. Bilo bi tako lako jednostavno ost... CAN'T THINK IT! MUSN'T THINK IT! Ngahh...
Kad porastem i postanem zli tiranin, prva stvar koju ću uvest je početak radnog dana negdje oko 14h. Naspavana nacija je zadovoljna nacija.

Valjda neću pokupit nosom neki stup na putu na faks... *zijev*
Idem jest čokolino. Jučer sam zaboravio kupit kruh. Bah.
Sad će ova iz engleskog sto posto opet pričat kako je gadno vani i kako su istrijani najbolji ljudi jer imaju fakin' tvornicu duhana. E da, i kako nećemo moć dobit posao pa da se ubijemo.

I am a bum. Hell, it doesn't take a genius to know what you are. In fact, the proportions of my bumness are so vast I am at liberty to call myself a Miniature Giant Space Bum. I stroll along the cosmic streets dressed in rags made of dreams. I drink the swill out of a bottle full of spirits. I cackle at the passerby from within cardboard boxes of creation.

Atop of that I have no job. So. Today, or better said yesterday evenin' this knight went on another rampage through the trackless lands of romance. I never stop, it seems. Been slapped down plenty of times, but hell, you can't be a real knight without a few dents in your shiny armor. This time, it was with a certain lady whom I have, in the true spirit of the hopelessly romantic, utterly failed to interest in some dallying across the meadows o' love. Shyte. Well, to cut the long story short (and because my mind feels as coherent as that of a deranged gerbil), it turns out that I attract her, but she doesn't want me. Or... something. It's the "but" thing. Women. Such wonderful creatures, I can't help myself! It's in the job description anyway. One sword. One horse. One reserve handkerchief. And as many unhappy love stories as you can eat.

Not that I am really hopelessly unhappy. You don't stay in this knightly business for long if every time you meet a-princess-atop-a-tower you fall into a depression when you realize you've forgotten the ladder again. You simply sit down and wait for her hair to grow long enough. What, it's true!

And so we talked. I'm good at that. I could talk the ears off an evil-minded politician. We talked about the But. Why But. And where does the But come from. So we touched upon the fact that I am a cosmic bum. That I shall always be a cosmic bum. That I have no Real Job this side of quantum. I don't think that's really the origin of But, but - interesting. People so often choose their partners by such weird criteria. Future mothers judge the worth of future fathers by the stability of their job. Then the market crashes and Daddy Has Been Drinking again. Men choose women by the size of their... forwardness... and then Wife Will Beat Me Again With A Meat Hammer If I Forget To Buy Scented Napkins.

What is a job anyway? Hell, if I were a woman I'd... well, if I were a woman I'd stay home all day and play with my breasts, but that's not the point. But people so often judge someone's worth by the size of his job appendix. My female friend fortunately lacks this tendency, but she gets worried what life is like when you gotta do something you are not meant to do. When you gotta do a job you know you won't like because it's just not your thing. When you got a degree and you don't know what to do with it.
Alas (such a knightly word ain't it... maybe I should use something more modern like... Yo...), it doesn't work like that! A job is a figment of civilization. Take the shiny lights and silver cars away and THEN you really see what everyone is made of. No, what matters is the Job. The Big One. Not what you do for everyday grub, but what you do for a Living. What you are - that's the only Job that really matters in the end.

So. My Job is that of a bum, a knight, galloper on the proverbial steppe of life, mighty smiter of dastardly evildoers and charmer of lonely princesses. That's the Job I'll always have. And one day I shall grow up to be the greatest Knight the world has ever seen.

I will even learn how to stop women saying "I like you, but..." when in my presence.

For now, I use earplugs.

-G.

Nekako me vuče domovina i jezik naš narodni, a s druge strane engleski je tak dobar za igre riječima, sarkazam, satiru i generalno zebavanje ljudi koji su nekako uspjeli dosurfat na netu dovdje a da ne znaju guknut angliš (osobno, to će mi uvijek ostat misterija). Ali neka. Čovjek mora biti slobodan da radi i piše kako mu se smili... zato će ovaj blog biti dvojezičan. Ne, trojezičan. Ne... a krap. Oooo! Ooooo! Biram... birammmm... izlog broj jedan! Ne! Dva! Da! Ne! Arghhhh! Old habits die hard, kako kažu.

Nego, novost! Imam online stalkera. Tako sam ponosan, rijetko se naleti na ženu-stalkera. Djeva si je umislila da sam netko. Tko, nemam pojma, al to niti nije važno kad ti je um izgubljen u raznobojnoj izmaglici dok tapkaš čelom u mekano obložene zidove... ako čitaš ovo, pozdrav iz sveg srca i želim ti još puno puno zdravih tableta... mmmm...

-G.

U čemu je stvar? Kad se sve svede a onu srž, dolazimo do tog vječitog pitanja: što ću danas jesti? Što ću danas napravit? Ima li boga kad mi bus pobjegne pred nosom, popraćem zluradim cerekom vozača čiji demonski osmjeh prži oči u odmičućem se retrovizoru...

Danas sam čitao jednu tužnu priču. Priču o jednoj curi koja je umrla u fakin kadi jer je bojler bio neispravan i ugušio je ugljičnim monoksidom. 17 godina je imala. I onda se sjetim kako smo danas ja i starci imali sat i pol rasprave oko podrigivanja za stolom. Na što se troši vrijeme. I sad ne znam da li bi trebao biti toliko tužan zbog te cure, jer poznavao je nisam... ali nikad je nit neću upoznat. NITKO nikada neće saznati što je ona mogla biti. To je tužno. Ta... nedorečenost.

Da se čovjek zamisli. O tome što radi. O tome kako živi. Nemamo vremena da posegnemo za onim snom koji nam se vrtio po glavi već godinama? Previše zaposleni da bi imali život kakav želimo? Izgubljeni u izmaglici civilizacije, to smo mi. Robovi previše stvari... previše praznih riječi, praznih imena i praznih dana.
Carpe diem. Zgrabite život za fraklec dok ste još u uspravnom položaju. Rizik? Tko ne baca kocke, bit će bačene za njega. Kažu da se umirući bore najžešće jer nemaju što izgubit (istina, vjerojatnost upotrebe vlastitih crijeva kao praćke bi se mogla još raspraviti). E pa, dosta živih ne shvaća da svi umiru. Samo je stvar u tome da većina nas to čini vrlo sporo.

Vremena ima taman dovoljno. Da se bude ono što želimo biti. Za to je potreban tek tren. No doći do toga, za to je potrebno vremena. Vremena, eto, kojeg neki nemaju više. Such is life. Zato da, carpe diem. Seize the day.

Ne samo zbog nas... već i zbog onih koji nikad nisu dobili prilike.

Eto, sad ne moraš prevodit s engleskog, Nemiri. ;)

I don't usually quote myself (why take the fun from other people), but reading my old stuff I came across a piece of text which I wrote some time ago, and as it happens to be dealing with words, it occured to me this would be a good place to paste it on. For words have power....

****

Words have Power, oh yes they do. From the old times this lingers, before mankind learned the art of writing things down, things like great sagas, exploits of legendary adventurers and things like "Brug Was Here".
Back then, words were mankind's greatest weapon. It is curious, you see, the saying "the pen is mightier that the sword" may stand true, but tongue beats them all. Back then, who knew lots of words reigned supreme. Oh, maybe he wasn't the Head Basher, maybe he didn't get all the gold immediately, but he was da man with da plan, he had Words in his head! And words, they make our worlds. Without words to describe our thoughts, our dreams, all we got is a private universum devoid of any sense and meaning.
And words, like all things that can create, can also be used to destroy...


Recently, I had a blast. This in itself would not be so unusual if not for a fact that I don't actually get to have a blast that often. At least not within shouting distance of another human being. This is either because I am jacked in some virtual extravaganza of an alternate reality we all know and like, or I find myself staring at clouds on a stormy day and marvel at their magnificence, which tends to leave me standing on an open meadow without an umbrella during a very rainy day and that, I hear, is not exactly a popular thing to do.
During this event, which was a barbecue-like attempt (a pretty good one at that, the only thing that kept it from being authentic is that although there were five of us tending the barbecue nobody burned their fingers and we haven't cauterized a single piece of meat...), I had a pretty good chance at seeing how words fly between people. Mind you, my Knightly business has so far taken me upon solitary roads which do not do wonders for your social skills, so I tend to pay attention to people arround me, unlike more socially adapted individuals.

It made me wonder how many words we spend daily which have absolutely no meaning whatsoever, words which as soon as they leave our mouths blend in with the universal background noise and sail off to be lost in some quantum riddle between you and the nearest lamp post. Try spending one day without using words. Try to live as you would normally do, but do not speak. Then, then you see what power words have over us. They bind us to each other, they make us learn, grow and change. The words are, in fact, like Force. We can even lift huge starships with them, if we take the trouble to put a lot of them in some politician's head and thus get the funding. No bucks, no buck-rogers as they used to say.
Words have also a subtle power. The power to vibrate your soul like a string on a mandoline, some people can use words to twang other people's souls like true rockstars (including smashing the guitar against your drummer's head and him liking it...), hell some people can even singlehandedly use words to play a full blown simphony. They are called good writers. The bad writers are called good politicians, but that's beside the point.

Even you. You also have the Power of the Word, you also can create and destroy with words, make entire worlds happen in a moment and be gone the next, you can soulchange another living being with that power, a great power few of us even think about. Which is customary for great things; to be forgotten and unnoticed until they are missed, while small and insignificant things tend to occupy a lot of space and time. It's probably quantum.

So when you speak, think of what you speak. Like a wizard, you gotta be careful with what you say. Otherwise you end up in a weird place wearing half a mellon on your head and a cosmic hamster in your pocket. Try Magic, you'll see. And Word Power is twice that dangerous.
Simple words often contain enormous power. If you mean it; same as Magic, if you don't mean it, it don't matter. Except in some situations, usually involving wrong times and places to be taken seriously.
There are small cantrips for morale, like "There, there..." (and a hug gesture), or "It will be allright, my dear friend." Then there are long lithanies used for inspiration, guidance, rise of spirits, courage, fear, you name it. But one of the most powerful of them all, curiously, is one of the shortest. It has changed nations, started wars and ended them, it affected practically every human being that ever lived, and if someone suddenly uncovered the Foundations of Mankind, you'd probably find them engraved on one of the cornerstones.
And those words, so simple and yet so powerful are...


"I love you."


I do so wish people would be more careful with that.

-G.

Here it is! A few days ago, I have decided to restart my old blog. I did it because it was a right thing to do. I did it for the fans I once had. I did it because I was depressed and bored and was going out of my mind, so I needed a place to put it down while I was away.

The Intros:
Well, I am a young, perky man, I like philosophy, chivalric attitude towards the people of the female persuasion and loose underwear. And in case someone thinks that's gay, I have a really large sword which I regularly use to smash things up with. So think again. ;)
Oh, yes. Several people also think I am some sort of a demi-god, but I go easy on them.

What is this place about (or what I intend it to be): simply a repository of late-night scriblings by yours truly, about things such as knighthood, life, women and more women. And pancakes. It's in English. In case you haven't noticed. I could write in Croatian, but then I wouldn't be able to annoy certain people who might happen to stumble across this blog.

So, welcome! Feel right at home, except that you aren't. See ya around.

-G.