quote

One is empty and wants to be full, the other - is overfull and wishes to be empty. Both seek for an individual who would serve them for this. In each case it’s called the same one word: love.
Friedrich Nietzsche

Tainted Love Original

Once I ran to you, now I ran from you.
...
Now I gonna pack my things and go.

Да.

Не моё!
Навеяло

Ваша вторая половина-левая часть тела. и не надо соплей.

да… я всё понимаю любовь и прочая хрень… но, девушки, опомнитесь!какой единственный? Какой навсегда? Тебе не 60 лет!!Живи! хватит размазывать сопли по лицу,слушать грустную музыку и мечтать,что когда-нибудь он приползёт!да не приползёт!Ему плевать! Он не помнит тебя! Попользовался,поиграл,послал! А ты вся такая бедная и несчастная,просто нашла очередной повод пострадать!Всем нам нужны такие горе-мальчики по которым мы будем страдать… Которыми будем оправдывать, что курим…Пить с горя, ведь это гораздо красивее, чем сказать «да я ушла в запой»! Сидим ночами рассуждая как нам плохо без него…Что он воздух,что он жизнь…А ну-ка кто без него умер? Всё реально пережить,а лучше забить! Ты жива? Так какой он тогда кислород? Попробуй-ка зажми нос! Не дыши!чуствуешь разницу?Или до сих пор не поняла своим розовым мозгом, что он полная лажа,а ты дура, которой нравиться страдать?Пойди выпей с подругой,позовите парней отожги…..Пошли ему смску со словами «иди, ты, милёнок,ты полный отстой, а я королева»!спорим сразу позвонит?Ну что ответит точно,это гораздо эффективней, чем сопливые сообщения в которых ты описываешь свои «глубокие» чувства, а он читает и сразу удаляет,а знаешь почему? Потому что ему плевать,потому что он знает что ты будешь бегать за ним как собака и чуть что он может прийти к тебе улыбнуться, а твой и без того не совсем нормальный мозг отключится… Ему плевать на твои чуства…!Запомни милая, если ты весишь не 40 кг это не значит что ты жирная корова,и что если ты похудеешь то он сразу вернётся…Если ты будешь весить 40 кг как хочешь,это будет значить ,что у тебя нет сисек,жопы и на тебе можно будит гладить бельё,потому что ты плоская как доска…Худей милая,худей!Все тут пишут виски, ром и т.д. а теперь скажите чесно кто тут виски бутылками пьёт? Пиво на лавочке вот чё ты пьёшь…Ну ладно мартини на кухне с подругой у которой такие же розовые мозги и лопша на ушах как у тебя… Не ври себе!Давайте будем смотреть правде в глаза, может ты не самая красивая,худая и т.д. но ты достойна большего…Не этого тупого козла помешеного на себе,который готов спать со всем что видит!Пойми ты это наконец!А ты…Живи спокойно,пей сколько хочется и кури если хочется…но прекрати оправдывать это всё несчастной любовью…Не ври ни себе,не другим! Ему плевать, и тебе тоже, а то что ты вбила себе в голову дурь и полная фигня!А жить ты устала,заткнись и живи! Умрёшь тебя все забудут всем плевать!Ему тем более!Он ни чё не поймёт!Грубо? А разве не правда?

"Я молюсь за все собачьи жизни, что не пропускают наши - в ад"

Хозяин погладил рукою
Лохматую рыжую спину:
- Прощай, брат! Хоть жаль мне, не скрою,
Но все же тебя я покину.

Швырнул под скамейку ошейник
И скрылся под гулким навесом,
Где пестрый людской муравейник
Вливался в вагоны экспресса.

Собака не взвыла ни разу.
И лишь за знакомой спиною
Следили два карие глаза
С почти человечьей тоскою.

Старик у вокзального входа
Сказал:- Что? Оставлен, бедняга?
Эх, будь ты хорошей породы...
А то ведь простая дворняга!

Огонь над трубой заметался,
Взревел паровоз что есть мочи,
На месте, как бык, потоптался
И ринулся в непогодь ночи.

В вагонах, забыв передряги,
Курили, смеялись, дремали...
Тут, видно, о рыжей дворняге
Не думали, не вспоминали.

Не ведал хозяин, что где-то
По шпалам, из сил выбиваясь,
За красным мелькающим светом
Собака бежит задыхаясь!

Споткнувшись, кидается снова,
В кровь лапы о камни разбиты,
Что выпрыгнуть сердце готово
Наружу из пасти раскрытой!

Не ведал хозяин, что силы
Вдруг разом оставили тело,
И, стукнувшись лбом о перила,
Собака под мост полетела...

Труп волны снесли под коряги...
Старик! Ты не знаешь природы:
Ведь может быть тело дворняги,
А сердце - чистейшей породы!

Эдуард Асадов

На остановке возле сквера,
Напротив шумного вокзала,
собака..,брошена, наверное,
Или хозяев потеряла.

Берет с ладони осторожно
Все, что дадут; благодарит!
В глаза смотреть ей невозможно...
Приняв отсутствующий вид,

Все ждут, когда она исчезнет -
Ведь с глаз долой, из сердца - вон?
Густая шерсть уже облезла,
И бок до кожи опален.

Лежит под лавкой, что-то гложет -
То кость какую - то, то прут.
За всяким увязаться может
В надежде, что ее возьмут!

Но...возвращается упорно
Под эту лавку каждый раз,
Уронит в лапы свою морду,
А слезы катятся из глаз ...

Ошейник шее исхудалой
Уже не нужен, как и то,
Что ее верность опоздала,
По крайней мере, лет на сто.

Четыре лапы, хвост да уши -
Чем тут отбиться от камней?
Ей нужен дом и очень нужен
один из тысячи людей...

Все ограничится подачкой
Смахнув чего-то там со щек,
Ей скажут ласково :" Собачка,
Я завтра принесу еще..."

Ей не решить такого ребуса,
Иная мудрость ей дана:
На остановке ждут троллейбуса,
И лишь хозяина - она...

Воронкова Галина (Аля)

Illusions by Richard Bach.

Chapter 8 is my favourite: Why some people are unhappy?

We finished the day in Hammond, Wisconsin, flying a few Monday passengers, then we walked
to town for dinner, and started back.
“Don, I will grant you that this life can be interesting or dull or whatever we choose to make it. But even in my brilliant times I have never been able to figure out why we’re here in the first place. Tell me something about that.”
We passed the hardware store (closed) and the movie theatre( open: Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid), and instead of answering he stopped, turned back on the sidewalk.
“You have money, don’t you?”
“Lots. What’s the matter?”
“Let’s see the show,” he said. “You buy?”
“I don’t know, Don. You go ahead. I’ll get back to the airplanes. Don’t like to leave ‘em alone too long.” What was suddenly so important about a motion picture?
“The planes are OK. Let’s go to the show.”
“It’s already started.”
“So we come in late.”
He was already buying his ticket. I followed him into the dark and we sat down near the back of the theater. There might have been fifty people around us in the gloom. I forgot about why we came, after a while, and got caught up in the story, which I’ve always thought is a classic movie, anyway; this would be my third time seeing Sundance. The time in the theater spiraled and stretched the way it does in a good film, and I watched awhile for technical reasons... how each scene was designed and fit to the next, why this scene now and not later on. I tried to look at it that way, but got spun up in the story and forgot.
About the part where Butch and Sundance are surrounded by the entire Bolivian army, almost at the end, Shimoda touched my shoulder. I leaned toward him, watching the movie, wishing he could have kept whatever he was going to say till after it was over.
“Richard?”
“Yeah.”
“Why are you here?”
“It’s a good movie, Don. Sh.” Butch and Sundance, blood all over them, were talking about why they ought to go to Australia.
“Why is it good?” he said.
“It’s fun. Sh. I’ll tell you later.”

“Snap out of it. Wake up. It’s all illusions.”
I was irked. “Donald, there’s just a few minutes more and then we can talk all you want. But let me watch the movie, OK?”
He whispered intensely, dramatically. “Richard, why are you here?”
“Look, I’m here because you asked me to come in here!” I turned back and tried to watch the end.
“You didn’t have to come, you could have said no thank you.”
“I LIKE THE MOVIE...” A man in front turned to look at me for a second. “I like the movie, Don; is there anything wrong with that?”
“Nothing at all,” he said, and he didn’t say another word till it was over and we were walking again past the used-tractor lot and out into the dark toward the field and the airplanes. It would be raining, before long.
I thought about his odd behavior in the theater. “You do everything for a reason, Don?”
“Sometimes.”
“Why the movie? Why did you all of a sudden want to see Sundance?”
“You asked a question.”
“Yes. Do you have an answer?”
“That is my answer. We went to the movie because you asked a question. The movie was the answer to your question.”
He was laughing at me, I knew it.
“What was my question?”
There was a long pained silence. “Your question, Richard, was that even in your brilliant times you have never been able to figure out why we are here.”
I remembered. “And the movie was my answer.”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“You don’t understand,” he said.
“No.”
“That was a good movie,” he said, “but the world’s best movie is still an illusion, is it not? The pictures aren’t even moving; they only appear to move. Changing light that seems to move across a flat screen set up in the dark?”
“Well, yes.” I was beginning to understand.
“The other people, any people anywhere who go to any movie show, why are they there, when it is only illusions?”
“Well, it’s entertainment,” I said.
“Fun. That’s right. One.”
“Could be educational.”
“Good. It is always that. Learning. Two.”
“Fantasy, escape.”
“That’s fun, too. One.”
“Technical reasons. To see how a film is made.”
“Learning. Two.”
“Escape from boredom...”
“Escape. You said that.”
“Social. To be with friends,” I said.
“Reason for going, but not for seeing the film. That’s fun, anyway. One.”
Whatever I came up with fit his two fingers; people see films for fun or for learning or for both together.
“And a movie is like a lifetime, Don, is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Then why would anybody choose a bad lifetime, a horror movie?”
“They not only come to the horror movie for fun, they know it is going to be a horror movie when they walk in,” he said.
“But why?...”
“Do you like horror films?”
“No.”
“Do you ever see them?”
“No.”
“But some people spend a lot of money and time to see horror, or soap-opera problems that to other people are dull and boring?...” He left the question for me to answer.
“Yes.”
“You don’t have to see their films and they don’t have to see yours. That is called ‘freedom.’”
“But why would anybody want to be horrified? Or bored?”
“Because they think they deserve it for horrifying somebody else, or they like the excitement of horrification, or that boring is the way they think films have to be. Can you believe that lots of people for reasons that are very sound to them enjoy believing that they are helpless in their own films? No, you can’t.”
“No, I can’t,” I said.
“Until you understand that, you will wonder why some people are unhappy. They are unhappy because they have chosen to be unhappy, and, Richard, that is all right!”
“Hm.”
“We are game-playing, fun-having creatures, we are the otters of the universe. We cannot die, we cannot hurt ourselves any more than illusions on the screen can be hurt. But we can believe we’re hurt, in whatever agonizing detail we want. We can believe we’re victims, killed and killing, shuddered around by good luck and bad luck.”
“Many lifetimes?” I asked.
“How many movies have you seen?”
“Oh.”
“Films about living on this planet, about living on other planets; anything that’s got space and time is all movie and all illusion,”he said. “But for a while we can learn a huge amount and have a lot of fun with our illusions, can we not?”
“How far do you take this movie thing, Don?”
“How far do you want? You saw the film tonight partly because I wanted to see it. Lots of people choose lifetimes because they enjoy doing things together. The actors in the film tonight have played together in other films - before or after depends on which film you’ve seen first, or you can see them at the same time on different screens. We buy tickets to these films, paying admission by agreeing to believe in the reality of space and the reality of time... Neither one is true, but anyone who doesn’t want to pay that price cannot appear on this planet, or in any space-time system at all.”
“Are there some people who don’t have any lifetimes at all in space-time?”
“Are there some people who never go to movies?”
“I see. They get their learning in different ways?”
“Right you are,” he said, pleased with me. “Space-time is a fairly primitive school. But a lot of people stay with the illusion even if it is boring, and they don’t want the lights turned on early.”
“Who writes these movies, Don?”
“Isn’t it strange how much we know if only we ask ourselves instead of somebody else? Who writes these movies, Richard?”
“We do,” I said.
“Who acts?”
“Us.”
“Who’s the cameraman, the projectionist, the theater manager, the ticket-taker, the distributor, and who watches them all happen? Who is free to walk out in the middle, any time, change the plot whenever, who is free to see the same film over and over again?”
“Let me guess,” I said. “Anybody who wants to?”
“Is that enough freedom for you?” he said.
“And is that why movies are so popular? That we instinctively know they are a parallel of our own lifetimes?”
“Maybe so... maybe not. Doesn’t matter much, does it?
What’s the projector?”
“Mind,” I said. “No. Imagination. It’s our imagination, no matter what you say.”
“What’s the film?” he asked.
“Got me.”
“Whatever we give our consent to put into our imagination?”
“Maybe so, Don.”
“You can hold a reel of film in your hands,” he said, “and it’s all finished and complete - beginning, middle, end are all there that same second, the same millionths of a second. The film exists beyond the time that it records, and if you know what the movie is, you know generally what’s going to happen before you walk into the theater: there’s going to be battles and excitement, winners and osers, romance, disaster; you know that’s all going to be there. But in order to get caught up and swept away in it, in order to enjoy it to its most, you have to put it in a projector and let it go through the lens minute by minute... any illusion requires space and time to be experienced. So you pay your nickel and you get your ticket and you settle down and forget what’s going on outside the theater and the movie begins for you.”
“And nobody’s really hurt? That’s just tomato-sauce blood?”
“No, it’s blood all right,” he said. “But it might as well be tomato sauce for the effect it has on our real life...”
“And reality?”
“Reality is divinely indifferent, Richard. A mother doesn’t care what part her child plays in his games; one day bad-guy, next day good-guy. The Is doesn’t even know about our illusions and games. It only knows Itself, and us in its likeness, perfect and finished.”
“I’m not sure I want to be perfect and finished. Talk about boredom...”
“Look at the sky,” he said, and it was such a quick subject change that I looked at the sky. There was some broken cirrus, way up high, the first bit of moonlight silvering the edges.
“Pretty sky,” I said.
“It is a perfect sky?”
“Well, it’s always a perfect sky, Don.”
“Are you telling me that even though it’s changing every second, the sky is always a perfect sky?”
“Gee, I’m smart. Yes!”
“And the sea is always a perfect sea, and it’s always changing, too,” he said. “If perfection is stagnation, then heaven is a swamp!
And the Is ain’t hardly no swamp-cookie.”
“Isn’t hardly no swamp-cookie,” I corrected, absently. “Perfect, and all the time changing. Yeah. I’ll buy that.”
“You bought it a long time ago, if you insist on time.”
I turned to him as we walked. “Doesn’t it get boring for you, Don, staying on just this one dimension?”
“Oh. Am I staying on just this one dimension?” he said. “Are you?”
“Why is it that everything I say is wrong?”
“Is everything you say wrong?” he said.
“I think I’m in the wrong business.”
“You think maybe real estate?” he said.
“Real estate or insurance.”
“There’s a future in real estate, if you want one.”
“OK. I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t want a future. Or a past. I’d just as soon become a nice old Master of the World of Illusion. Looks like maybe in another week?”
“Well, Richard, I hope not that long!”
I looked at him carefully, but he wasn’t smiling.

16.12.2010 11:35 PM

Thomas Dewar and his Dewarisms.

Actually today I came up with the whole 3 posts. In my head. I wish they could transfer on the paper automatically without my help at that time of the night.
Anyways, here's the 3d one. Fantastic Thomas Dewar, author of the bestseller "Ramble Round the Globe".

But today about his "pearls of wisdom", Dewarisms. Let me know if you come across more of them:

No. 22 Sometimes doing nothing is doing something.
No. 36 Enjoy now, another now is coming.
No. 43 Less pain, more gain.
No. 49 The pause is a part of the walk.
No. 27 Go ahead, look around.
No. 28 You better wait for the unexpected.
No. 34 Making a mistake is also an achievement.
No. 58 The further you are from a problem, the smaller it gets.
No. 64 If you think you know it all, you are missing something.
No. 73 Proper rules are not written.
No. 77 Sometimes a step forward needs a step back.
No. 86 If you get to the top on your own, who'll take the picture?
No. 17 We should not say how's business, but where is business
No. 19 Never invest in a going concern until you know which way it is going.
No. 23 The quality of the article should be its greatest achievement.
No. 38 Yesterday's success belongs to yesterday.
No. 42 In charity there is no excess.
No. 46 The greatest mistake you can make is to be continually fearing you will make one.
No. 51 Life is a one-way street and you're not coming back.
No. 54 Fish stimulates the brain, but fishing stimulates the imagination.
No. 66 Respectability is the state of never being caught doing anything which gives you pleasure.
No. 68 Of two evils, choose the more interesting.
No. 70 There is no traffic congestion on the straight and narrow path.
No. 76 We have a great regard for old age when it is bottled.
No. 79 A philosopher is a man who can look at an empty glass with a smile.
No. 83 Minds are like parachutes: they only function when they're open.
No. 85 Experience is what you get when you're looking for something else.
No. 87 Ability without enthusiasm is like a rifle without a bullet.
No. 92 You can send a boy to college but you can't make him think.
No. 95 If we are here to help others, I often wonder what the others are here for.
No. 97 Don't question your wife's judgment; look who she married.
No. 21 Keep advertising and advertising will keep you.
No. 23 The quality of the article should be its greatest achievement.
No. 31 If you do not advertise, you fossilize.

16.12.2010 0:20

Steve Hanks's watercolor paintings.

A few words.

Even when I’m wrong I’m right, natural juices, gina tricot, smoothes, iphone, age limit, reports, Sinelnikov,pirkka, bread with brie cheese and a pear, marimekko pineapple dress, hot water from the toilet in the airport, Nepal, India, one internet cable for two, white socks, Arcada, kozel, leggings, guerlain powder, korres, warren buffet, german guys, italian guys, guys in general, tektonik, sasa’s summer place, lashes, dogs, Crimea, tea, mango, NBE, lost umbrellas, dermalogica, library loans, you just haven't meet the right guy yet, amica food, suki, parties, Russians everywhere, fleshed ipod, toilets for disabled, mac, no strong light in the room, Chester, Heffe’s island, mushrooms, blackberries, baby oil, London, Biomet, ginger tea, smoking, puhu minulle suomea, apricot stone, mudlo, jag talar littet svenska, sauna, honey, public toilets bushes, poor dad reach dad, couchsurfing, Eurovision, volunteers, Rautatientori, green farms, skype, so what, dresses, red luggage bags, cakes, cooking, I’m a good guy don’t worry, Dumb & Dumber, kiss me I’m Russian, let's take Tuomas he's so cute, flowers, vegetarian receipts book, Adecco, xage.ru, cultural day, what ever is done is done for the best, free cashiers (my boyfriend left me. mine too. we are what? free cashiers), yoga, oversleeping, Amarillo,  Anastasiya, photosessions, i will come with a stick, modified Spanish strawberries, blackboard, Braunschweig, exchange students, Luutech, crematorium, cemetery, dark side club, queen of hearts, entrepreneurship, ceder nuts,  harmaja band, Moscow, Helsinki, Altay, mussels (midii) and buckwheat, laying on the floor and dying, see you when i see you, Vantaa, he has a cool degree, Hietsu beach, naked in the bus, picassa, I want it now, unreal, angry gulls, woman who sees the future, melodramas, pictures slideshow, Jonathan Livingston Seagull, K-market, restaurants in the centre, orange colour base cream for face, nu Leeeeen, brother louie, parents, sushi, pan cakes, rock the ballet, Hämenlinna, Tampere, Lady Gaga, he's a very good person, i gonna kill him, telescope, vkontakte, facebook, happy birthday at 8 a.m., he’s a finn, mina olen shockissa, face masks, coffee scrubs, iron, I know that you know everything better it’s just my opinion, they piss me off, hand made, ahahahah, from Alina with love, pupsik, crazy fan, story of stuff, reuse reduce recycle, everybody envies me, I haaaaaaaate you, business idea, he doesn’t understand, welcome to the club, 150l garbage bags,driving licence, shopping, I will show them all who is cool, nu Saaaaaaash, hoas, salad leaves, cheese and pomegranate with honey, dacha style, Sunday style, Aiesec, for free, pizza, paparazzi, Guess, make up with him he is cool, large square, don’t freak me off, Nutella, burberry, paining, Stockmann upper floor, cleaning, finance, Germany, let's.

To be continued as time goes..

The friend you want to have.

Vladimir Putin ♥ dogs, so do I.

Vladimir Putin just recently received a present from Bulgaria, a puppy of the Karakachan Shepherd. The name of the new Putin's family member was suggested by 5 years old boy from Moscow, Dima Sokolov, through the Internet. The cute dog will be called "Baffi".
♥

Other dogs of the prime-minister.
Connie, female black Labrador Retriever. 

• Once ate delicacies prepared for Jury Luzhkov (ex-major of Moscow) and Boris Gryzlov (Speaker of State Duma) at the official event;
• "In February 2005, "We" youth movement started a campaign to promote Koni for President. It was the opinion of the group that no matter who won the 2008 Russian presidental election the operating head of state would remain the same, and hence Koni would make the best candidate." - Wiki
• Is the main character of famous political comics "Ogonyok".
• Vladimir Putin: "Sometimes, Koni leaves a room full of journalists with a very pleased expression on her face and biscuit crumbs around her mouth...Please don't feed my dog."  
• Has Wikipedia page: www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Koni_(dog)

Three toy poodles Tusya (female), Romeo (male), Rodeo (male). 
They belong to Lyudmila Putina, Vladimir Putin's wife.

Vladimir Putin also has the goat Skazka ("Fairy-tale) and its kid. Was a present from Jury Luzhkov (ex-major of Moscow).

 

A while ago the goat has bitten Putin by accident and caused a big scandal in foreign Mass Media. All over the world journalists were wondering if Putin had a plastic surgery or was bitten by a man.

Left eye on the pictures.

And one more pet, pony Vadik. A present from Kazan republic.

"Lord help me be the person my dog thinks I am..."- Janusz Leon Wisniewski "I want a man like Putin" song by Poyuschie vmeste ("Singing together") band. My boyfriend is in trouble once again: Got in a fight, got drunk on something nasty I've had enough and I chased him away And now I want a man like Putin One like Putin, full of strength One like Putin, who won't be a drunk One like Putin, who wouldn't hurt me One like Putin, who won't run away! I've seen him on the news last night He was telling us that the world has come to crossroads With one like him, it's easy to be home and out And now I want a man like Putin One like Putin, full of strength One like Putin, who won't be a drunk One like Putin, who wouldn't hurt me One like Putin, who won't run away!

Be a man, just do it (c)

"In the end we only regret the chances we didn't take, the relationships we were scared to have and the decisions we waited too long to make. There comes a time in your life when you realise who matters, who doesn't, who never did and who always will. So don't worry about the people from your past, there's a reason they didn't make it to your future".

Just a very good song.

Zemfira - I was looking for you. 

I was looking for you
During long long years
Was looking for you
In dark dark backalleys
In newspapers and movies
Within my friends
And the day i found you
I went crazy

Chorus:
You, you're just like a dream
Just like in albums
Where I was painting you with gouache

Later went on the night phone calls
More tears, nerves and love
And dates in Poland
Children, but not mine
And old sweethearts
Smoke every five
We both got tired

Chorus

During long long years
During dark dark nights
Long years

Chorus x2

I was looking for you
During long long years
Was looking for you
In dark dark backalleys
In newspapers and movies
During long years
Looking for you
For nights...