“Good friends, good books and a sleepy conscience… this is the ideal life.” – Mark Twain
It’s Friday night. I’m just listening some music on my phone because my computer moves way to slow, and generally keeping up with things on the web. Friday’s are always the time of my most socializing state, where I go on line and just bask in every type of site possible, from Tumblr, Twitter, Goodreads, Facebook etc. It’s the time for writting book reviews, poems, and useless stuff that I write just for practice like dialogues or killing scenes or long/short descriptions of things around the house, in order to get a better understanding of how I can use a lot or a few words and create an impression.
It’s also the time I get scared or melancholic about… stuff. Everything, really. Turning 18 didn’t help me calm down, it just made me want to work more and be even more active academically and just go on non-stop. I don’t have time anymore for anything except studying. And I sometimes wonder if it’s just a problem of mine or if it is how I’m supposed to be.
A completely unrelated idea: I discovered I like Dostoyevsky. I started reading Crime and Punishment and it hit me, how … depressing and incredibly beautiful it is. Hard to understand how a man can think of such a morronic and whimpering and idiotic characters, and make him seem such an infinite source of surprise for the reader. Anyways, a review on that book will be posted soon, because it’s sure worth it.
I’m currently working on a poem that kind of continues one of my old series of poems, but it’s separated in the way that I’m trying to make it longer and darker than anything I’ve written before. I feel this need to create characters and then kill them. It has already happened in a few short pieces, and I am quite scared with myself. I guess I’m just experimenting with different types of writing, but it gets on my nerves when I kill my favorite people over and over again.
Still haven’t managed to get a good night’s sleep in about three weeks, and it starts to take a toll on me. I have a competition next Friday and I want to badly to win it I keep studying and studying and studying and it’s tiring me out like hell. I’m missing on parties and friends because of this obsession with perfection in the academic area and it keeps being pointed out to me. I hate it when people do that.
I like diet syrup. Random fact. The one for diabetics. It’s addictive.
Also, I smoke too much. Got up to about a pack a day and it’s not good at all.
I need sleep!
Nice things I’ve discovered this week: Hyperliterature.com and a course on Storytelling that I am going to start over email with some teachers at a British University. I am also enrolling for a course on A Philosophy: Politics, also on email.
So many things to do! So little time!
So few hours of sleep..
The new poem might go on line tonight, if I finish it. I just drank a large cup of Black Tea so I’m proobably not going to sleep for a while.
Have a nice night!
it’s hard to believe time flies. but it does. there’s really no better analogy for it than the fact that it “flies” – time finds its freedom and we die caged, without it.
i think that is the most important currency we’ve been given to trade on this earth – time. it weighs infinite more than its weight in gold, and it’s a bitter coin, one which tastes like rotten hope. you can give time away, but never get it back. it’s a no loan situation, where even if you wanted to, you don’t want to let it go.
and the weirdest things about it is that we realize its importance too late. it makes us confused: first, we have all the time in the world, then they tell us it’s not exactly like that, than they tell us time isn’t a human’s tool, and then suddenly we have no more of it left.
so this currency.. use it wisely. buy only the friends that you need and the happiness you know you can get. greed not over other unimportant goods, for those come along once you have the first two.
and be careful. because one day, you might want to purchase another thing and realize the wallet of your life is empty..
don’t lose it. don’t lend it. and don’t spend it foolishly.
how is it that we are so afraid of change and yet crave for it so badly? is it inside of us, to make ourselves suffer through this type of thinking? why do we lust and reject at the same time? are we.. wrong, in some way? need we be fixed?
or is it that which defines us, the need to hurt ourselves in order to achieve happiness?
we’re not complicated. we just haven’t given ourselves enough time. after all, we’re new to this world. we’re just babies, just born, still covered in our mother’s blood, screaming and crying after that first hurtful breath of air that will unplug our lungs.
mindless creature that we are.
so much knowledge in us, so much opportunity humanity has but..
we’re so young.
so, so young.
breathe, make me breathe harder,
and become the sum of all things;
make me this world’s sculpture.
make me the sky above,
turn me into the fire below;
count my hairs as hopes so they’re so many
they seem infinite
and my skin – particles of dust held
my eyes, two gates to the fields,
and my mouth your hope of summer.
my laughter is the roar of the wilderness
and my tears the rain in the forest.
for it’s bliss and torture
to have you here, in me,
and i don’t know which one is which,
I am everything, all of this,
through you, through us.
and as the night comes along,
think of our love as the dawn’s
for through it we give birth
all at the same time.
It is the most dreadful moment of the year for a student.
The time of sadness, loss of liberty and sudden multiplication of rules.
It’s time for school.
In case you haven’t noticed, it’s September, which for many students means going back to studying. I don’t exactly know how it works in other countries, but my dear Romania has set the implosion date for the 16th, current month. It’s the 10th now, so these next 6 days every 7 to 19 year old takes as precious little freedom gems. With the note that high school students appreciate this more.
I am now entering my last year of high school. This is the sentence I have been repeating in my head for about a week now, thinking about the finality of it and how … musical it sounds. These are the most amazing 9 words I have heard in a long time. I am so happy this is the last year. I can’t stand high school no more.
It’s not that I don’t like the atmosphere or having my friends around me all the time. It’s the idea of powerlessness that this stage in life gives me. I know about the whole “enjoy life when you’re young and don’t wish for it to pass” thing. But no one ever tells you about how those years are spent waiting for something to happen. Myself, I’m not the kind to like waiting around. I like working and I love being the best at the things I choose to be the best at. And I can’t be satisfied with being good at school – it’s merely a stage, it’s a phase every kid must go through, so I’m not with anything special if I’m the first in my class or I won an award for something related to school work. So I am trying to enjoy these moments – I’m turning 18 this month so I’m treasuring these last days as a 17 year old. But I just can’t help the feeling – I want to move on.
This moving on, it means taking on the world. It means me going to another country and studying and learning to manage on my own. It implies work, sweat, tears, loneliness, time, energy, thought and in the end .. happiness. It’s what I want.
And I can’t get this in school. Meaningless activities done day by day in the presence of absent teachers who don’t give a damn about you, with a principal that believes reading is bad for you, with colleagues that don’t know how to write Hitler or where is Europe on the map, with the bustling a useless school makes around you. Not my kind of place.
This year, I decided it’s gonna change. I have my friends in my class – I care about them. The rest.. too bad. I have to get a perfect 10 this year, so I’ll work for it. I have to take my Bacalaureat diploma with over 9.70. So I’ll work for it. I have to get accepted at universities in England. So I will be. Anything else besides work and cementing my true friendships is in second place – irrelevant, I think.
That’s for me, though. That’s my mentality. But I look around and I peek at the kids there and I get scared for the future of my generation. There’s no hope to ever turn them into something good. There are so few that have passions and ambition to achieve something in life without spending their parents’ money on it, so few who believe they can make a change. They’re numb and empty and they fill these spaces with meaningless socializing and day by day they get dumber and dumber and dumber. I wish I could have hope for them. But I know better – I see it around me. These kids? They’re lost. And there’s no one who wants to bring them back, we’re just settling for the best we can have – a nation of empty minded, blabbering idiots who will fill our jobs and make this shithole even worse than it already is.
You think this country is corrupted? You think it’s dumb? Wait and watch what the brilliantly mentally damaged kids of the corrupt ones now will do in 50 years.
I try and talk sense into who I can, but no one listens. And there’s two reasons for that. One: I’m just a lonely voice in a sea of screams, and no one really hears me. Two: if you ever want to show something to teenagers, you need to have an army behind you, you need to make it trendy. If it’s not fashionable, they won’t wear it. Even if we’re talking about intelligence.
Does school try to do anything to change that? My personal experience.. no. It lost us just as we lost it some time ago. MY older friends tell me their school experience was just the same. A few days ago, a good friend told me what he did in school, when he was a student, and he told a teacher that Aristotle wrote something along the lines of: “I don’t understand students nowadays.. They show no respect to the elders and they learn nothing”. That was some thousands of years ago. So it’s reccurent, I get it. It comes back and it goes away and then by miracle finds another way to affect us. We aren’t really interested in learning. We kind of lie to ourselves that we care about education and that we’re so sooo elevated. We’re not. And we, teenagers, are the worst of it, because we are precisely at that age where “life will be good” and “I don’t give a fuck right now” have the same meaning and importance to us.
School sees that and decides to lie to itself too. The ministry of education? Run my illiterate people. High school principals? Let me not start on mine… He’s a dwarfy little guy with this stubbornly stupid vacant look in his eyes that relates on money to achieve anything in life and demands respect from a hoard of spineless invertebrates.. like the teenagers in our school. Teachers? There’s few of them that are worth the time. Few that come in the class with the want to TEACH someone something. Usually they just open some book written by someone else and start reading out of that, we’re supposed to write down and learn that and then pass a useless test that evaluates nothing more than our ability to cheat on it.
It’s school, folks. It ain’t no damn smart place.
So the entire system, from top to bottom and from bottom up, is just a big mess of a thing with no hope whatsoever to get at least half right.
Am I upset about that? Yes. Because I live in it.
That is why I want to get out. I’m hoping in a more civilized country (not by much, because all of us are animals), I’ll find better educated people, smarter systems and better lifestyle. This shithole does good for no one – actually it does bad.
How many kids began like normal, smart beings and became fucked up adults with a no meaning life because they went through this kind of school? How many? Think of a ratio, any ratio. There can be some of them, and maybe they would’ve been able to change something. But because they took the same pill we were all given, they’re brain dead.
In the end, how do I feel about going back to school? Good and bad. It’s fun, having your friends around for a few laughs, chatting with your good teachers because you’re becoming old enough for them to care about your opinion. It sucks, sitting through long, never ending hours of useless subjects you will never use and having to witness bad teaching over and over again hitting heads with brainless teenagers.
I’m not taking the pill. I’m keeping it under my tongue, I’m letting them check it empty, and them I’m spitting it out as soon as the authority turns their back. I’m not their tool. I’ll never be their tool.
After I finished “Fangirling to the extreme – One Direction“, I started thinking about how the icons celebrities represent for us, the people at home, take a toll on how we view everything around us.
First of all, I feel like I have to make a clarification: many times I have met with the expression “we, the normal people”. I feel very awkward when that comes up. If they aren’t normal people, what are they, aliens? They’re just like you and me, just like your neighbour (if your neighbour is a creepy old man who likes smoking pipe and watching little kids play I deny everything I said). They eat food, they go dancing, they have cranky morning voices, sometimes they get bags under their eyes and open pores and what not.. and yes, they do go to the toilet. (Except Matt Damon, check this out! ) I refuse to believe they are different from me in these aspects – it’s just that they have a different platform to perform their job on. So, normal they are. Glad we settled that one out.
Now, going back to what I said: this is what celebrities do – they turn their life into a constant performance. It’s an act. They’re just as real, I’m not calling them fake. They love their families, they have feelings that can get hurt. But their efforts are towards a constant show – this is what we ask of them. We, the people at home, are the ones who turn celebrities into who they are because we’re the ones giving them attention. If the “icons” would just get attention from others in the same business, this whole movie-music-artistry thing would crash and burn. They need us, and in return we need them. Imagine how boring life would become without movies or music or concerts to go to. What would you do? Read all day long and listen to Beethoven when you jog? Do you imagine that as a better life than this one now? It’s not. There’s no diversity. Nowhere to choose from if your tastes are different.
Celebrities have to “be” someone, in the deepest meaning of the word. They have to “exist”. That’s what we read about in magazines and watch videos for. So we see their “existence”. We live our fantasies through them and open our minds to different ideas that way. We are dreamers through their movies, through their music. And we like them “up there”, on the imaginary pedestal they accepted, because humans have always needed the idea of “he’s better than me”, so they can aspire to it.
Now, this whole “celebrity” thing has turned into a franchise. It is not anymore the person alone, but the team behind it, the management schemes pulled off for the person itself. This is what’s sad about the life of a celebrity. They may just want to sing or act, but the moment they become succesful, they sign up for a whole other thing: press, interviews, photos, loss of privacy. When you are truly succesful in the domain, you have no life left. For a period, at least. Nothing is important forever and neither will they be, so at one point the fuss just goes away. But as long as they’re in the spotlight, it’s like they’ve given their acceptance.
So how do they get so succesful? How does someone become so big they need security guards when they go out for a nice stroll in the park? Which.. they don’t, because they’d need security guards.
The century before, this was harder. You had to either know someone, be someone already or become someone through luck, talent, ambition or all three options above. Now, it can be summarized in two words: social media.
It is the most powerful tool in 2013’s world.
No, seriously. If nuclear bombs wanted to destroy the world, they would need a Facebook Page for it, not an airplane. Hitler could’ve given his “kill them Jews” orders on his Twitter account, through a very cheeky tweet, and grammar Nazi’s would’ve probably attacked him. You don’t even need to ask about the Cold War – that could be easily won on Instagram.
Yes, it’s that bad. Presidents have Facebook now. Fuckin’ presidents.
And we’re okay with it. It, apparently, makes them more “human”, more reachable, we can relate to them more. The hell we can. How the fuck can you relate to Obama better if he has a Facebook page? He is the president of the USA and you’re a bussines accountant. Puhh-lease.
And it’s our making. It never would have gotten that big had we not chosen that. We wanted Facebook. And Twitter. And Instagram. And Flickr, and Pinterest, and Omegle. And websites. And this and that.
Now, I’m not saying this is a bad thing. It can be very much a good thing or a zero. But it can also do harm.
And this is where it comes to the harsh reality – the ones most affected by social media are always the young ones. Kids. Your kid.
He’s growing up, right? He’s what, like, 9? What does he do all day? Goes to school, maybe to some sports practice afterwards.. then lunch, because his mother made him pizza. And then.. he watches TV. He has a computer, because you decided he should get familiar with the Internet and all that. Oh, and a smartphone, because he pleaded and cried for weeks to get one, after he saw all his friends had one. He picks that up and God knows what he does with it so much time, you don’t understand. All these weird-ass website names and all the socializing your kid does on Internet with his friends… You don’t understand why your kid doesn’t simply walk out the door, crosses the street and bangs on his best friend’s door and he chooses to Instant Message him.
You know what I did at 9 years old? I climbed a cherry tree in my bathing suit, until I reached the top, and I managed to fall from three m high on a carpet of nettles. In my bathing suit. And I rolled over. I fucking rolled over on the other side. I couldn’t move for hours and I cried so much because I was in pain. And then I laughed throughout my life of that moment – and I still do. You know what else I did at nine? Played tag. Hide and seek (more like hide and disappear for me). You know what I didn’t have at 9? A mobile phone. Or a computer. Sure, I had seen a computer and pressed a few keys here and there on that white thingie, but I didn’t know what that was.
I didn’t learn to read on an IPad, whilst checking my hundred long friend list on Facebook.
Yes, social media has this bad part. Some can tolerate it, and maybe even forget about the effects it has – but I can’t. I see it in my friends, in my class, on the street, in me. It takes advantage of human traits and inflicts damage back.
Celebrities have it worse than me, in my opinion. They are not only the cause of social media, but also their weapon. Without wishing it, they still are. It’s what public opinion wanted and we are attacked by it. You’re not as smart as x? Shame on you! Not as thin as y! You are disgusting!
This is the ugly face of social media.
As I said, though, there’s a good part to it. We can help people – donations, awareness, aid in different matters, world spread of vital information. Its possibilities are infinite and it has potential to change. Unfortunately, we seem to need/want it in trivial matters and in no way use it to change things on a massive scale.
I’m just sayin’, there’ll come a day when an earthquake alarm will get to you through a Tweet.
Yes. We will get there.