Lists, Plans / Weeks Go By Like Days

hello there.
in july 2012, i started blogging, simply because i felt like it.
i really had no clue.

most of the things i predicted to write about, i have never mentioned, again. there’s an entire category, called “tastiness” that sleeps between my unfinished drafts, patiently waiting to be used. the planned one about university life does not even exist.

instead, i have written some fiction and responded to daily prompts, because they’re such a good substitute for original inspiration. i’ve talked about things that are important to me and i’ve even mentioned songs or artists, once or twice.

one year has passed, now, since i decided to publish more than status messages. and i’ve heard somewhere that you should get rid of any clutter you don’t use
over the course of one year.
so: i suppose, i will never write about recipes, like i said i would. i won’t purposely write about my life as a student. because i just don’t believe it fits very well, next to dark pencil drawings and poems about what really stirs me.

and because i just never cook real stuff when by myself.

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also, i have to announce my going into a sort of hiatus for around four weeks.
it might not always be obvious, but each post takes me quite some time to write, and the sketches are not drawn in an instant. it’s just that i’m very cautious about my entries.

however, i don’t shy away from this sort of work. i enjoy it.
and what’s even worse: i use it to procrastinate.
over the last weeks, i thought i could just write less or less often and study more,
but that didn’t work, of course.

so, that’s why the following four weeks will be dedicated to my studies, entirely.
well, i will probably post here, anyway. but i’ll try to be very minimalistic about it.
(the number of surplus posts until august 14th
is going to reveal the degree to which i fail my resolution…)

still, i’m afraid this site will fade into oblivion, so might i suggest the sidebar on the right that holds all my dusty archives and the most popular posts?

you could find something you like.

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Choosing My Own Way Of Life

this time in response to two daily prompts
misfit posts and morality play.

i vaguely remember a quote that i read somewhere:
for me, maturity is when a person hurts you
and you try to understand their situation
rather than hurting them back.
if this is not maturity, then i wish it were. Continue reading

From The Edge Of The Deep Green Sea

[in which i realize that i’m supposed to be, like, an adult.]

no fiction, today. today’s daily prompt isn’t quite doing it for me.
and besides, i can’t think of blogging any boring fiction, right now:

there’s a flood, outside. Continue reading

You’ll Be Another One Before All Of This Is Done

“it’s almost two-thirty now, and the crowd gets nervous. a couple of minutes to go, a couple minutes of taking notes. it’s a whole new world that we’ve diven into. and no one seems to feel comfortable, yet. at least i don’t.

‘this desk is way too small’, i catch myself thinking rather loudly inmidst a mass of fashionable, fidgety iphoners. but my statement seeps away between mashed up noises from packing done too early. half an hour ago, the back of my wooden seat groaned with my every movement, and i heard someone giggle in response to it. my seat still groans, but it can’t be heard, anymore. that makes two of us, now.

university is different from what i know. i know high school and familiarity. i used to know my seat, i used to return to that very same seat for each class. this is different. this is frightening. the auditorium holds somewhat over 600 groaning, wooden seats. and each of them is taken. i believe that – judging from the time it took us all to enter the hall and sit down in evenly filled rows – we couldn’t leave the building fast enough in case of emergency. the doors are too small and there are few of them. plus, i noticed that people tend to switch to super slowmo, when entering a crowded place. the more people, the more they slow down. and if a panic breaks out, this simple structure of seat rows would most likely turn into a non-traversable maze. no one could fold back their tables and leave fast enough without stumbling over books or panicked people, before getting violently squished through proportionally narrow concrete doorframes… you know, in case of emergency.

the overall restlessness reaches a level where that tiny professor raises his voice to a maximum in order to be understood over the mic. some are already done packing their stuff and rush out. i wonder whether they were also picturing emergency cases. i might never find out. students don’t talk that much inside lecture halls. well, actually they do. but not to me. i’m probably a loner.

you see, last week, i’ve had an interesting conversation with someone i had barely met, and he said that university marks one of the few points in life where everyone can be the person they’ve always dreamed to be. i think everyone gets a free trial. but it’s not so easy – you see – changing who you are into who you want to be. some attempt, but fail. i do. most don’t even try it in the first place. and so, all those chances at becoming a better person pass up, and most of us end up the exact same person they had always been and will always be.”

i think the beginning of change is always hard work and for results, you have to see it through. change is like going against a tide; like that strange ache when untying tight braids and running your fingers through your hair. or like returning again and again to an uncomfortably overfilled lecture hall of noisy strangers.

you know it’s unpleasant, but you go on with it, anyway. because that’s where change starts. that’s what will hopefully take you someplace better. 

An Atheist’s Quick Thought On God

as i’m preparing to leave for classes, i’m often listening to a list of favourite songs, most of which are really melancholic (at least that’s what others keep saying. i enjoy them. i don’t get why others don’t.) and just now, as “say when” by the fray is playing, i catch myself singing along for the millionth time, singing “maybe god can be on both sides of the gun”.

but i’ve actually thought about this line for the first time, now. and i doubt it.

god is not on both sides of the gun. i’m no expert speaking, but of how i like to think of god, he wouldn’t be standing on either side. right? i mean, he’s not absent, he must be there, somewhere, but i think he wouldn’t be held at gunpoint. and he would most certainly not shoot. he has his ways, but he doesn’t need guns for them.

i believe that when a gun separates the world into two places, and if a god exists, god is there, like a single pair of watching eyes, triggering qualms.

what do you think? am i even making sense here?