Applied Usage of Business Analysis

A discussion with a friend about consulting and what it means to be a consultant in Romania (promise I'll return to the subject in a later post) led us to the (delicate and oh so melting) subject of sentimental bonding. As another friend put it, most people who have been involved in business analysis of any sort tend to treat sentimental relations as if they were business issues that need to be addressed in a structured and logical manner. It is quite difficult to do that with emotions, because they tend to escape any strict regulations and lead a life of their own. They can't be thought of in paradigms and there is no standard methodology that can help you stop somebody's tears, for example. You really need to be there for your family and your friends and never allow yourself not to feel -- in relation to them and to yourself. Let go of the consultant, professor, lawyer or whatever it is that possesses you.

Remember "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest"? At some point, McMurphy asks Chief "What are we doing in here, Chief? Huh? What's us two guys doing in this fucking place? Let's get out of here. Out. " Out of the two, Chief really does get out, although he speaks much less about it.

sunt la iesire din metrou,
si ma simt ca nou,
stiu ca e doar un vis,
dar...nimic sau totul e compromis !
(Omul cu Sobolani, 7000 de km in aer)

Chocolate in my boots and filthy cheese

Image courtesy of despair.com

Last week was something close to amazingly urban. The Therion concert on Saturday pulled it out of daily ideas starvation, by providing incentive to feel, but the whole rest of it was dull. Except for Wednesday, St Nikolaus Day. In the morning I found my boots filled up with sweets and felt childishly happy, although I hadn't polished my boots the nigh before. It hasn't happened for some years now, so it was really great to have chocolate and orange just for me. When I got to the company, early in the morning, I wrote a message to them all wishing them a happy day, but I suspect none got the point. Later that day I was speaking to a company freshman who insisted on filling me in on the vocabulary of the Romanian language -- in a manner so unpolite that I lost my grip and got him an emotional feedback (type : "I hate it when you... bla bla because I feel bla bla and I would like you to bla bla"). I suspect that one did not work either, it's money or nothing to young blood nowadays.

I also remember some project report meeting in which I listened to "colinde" (that's traditional Christmas songs / carols) and breathed in the Christmas that is to come. On Sunday I then met a fellow consultant girl-friend, who is now employed abroad in strategy consulting. We had fun and our discussion went on from living abroad to discussing Romanian economics. Highly cosmopolitan. My week ended with Shakespeare and Flying over a cuckoo's nest, couldn't be nicer.

Oh... Did you come to read "Who Moved My Cheese"? I'm feeling that the cheese I'm eating is more and more filthy. ;-)

From the tales of Solon
To the depth of astral memory
The legend of Atlantis
Will appear from the Great Old Sea.
Dive into the abyss
To find the lost luciferic crown
And put it on the head
Of the ruler of the sunken town.
(Therion, Crowning of Atlantis)

This one goes out to the ones I love

Yesterday I forgot to mention two most special people I know. The ones I love. The ones who have never swayed from telling me something nasty, the ones who have unconditionally loved me, helped me, been there for me. The ones whom I should be with more often, help in more than one ways, the ones I sometimes forget to show my gratitude for.

Oh... I was wrong :) the innocent do last, but they need to find their inner strength to remain innocent and not just a silly copy of innocence... a copy played for the sake of an image. Images are nothing without the underlying facts.

summer has come and passed
the innocent can never last
wake me up when september ends

ring out the bells again
like we did when spring began
wake me up when september ends
(Green Day, Wake Me Up When September Ends)

So I wait, and in a while I will see my true love smile

This is another post I have been given a lot of thought. It is about the people I know, about my friends and all the people I have been learning from in the past… at least 10 years. They are all very special people and form my very first life manual. And the best one, might I add.

I know somebody who has managed to overcome mountains, both in himself and in reality. A dear friend has just managed to be one of the first 20 young journalists in Germany. There are people I know who will probably become the future bank directors or governors of our National Bank. People who are studying for their MBA abroad or have already obtained it and are running successful businesses in Romania – or are running successful businesses without any MSc, MBA etc. One of my girl-friends has married in the States and is following her own path, studying and working there. I remember eating “mamaliga” with her only a few years ago. A guy with whom I used to chase bicycles in the rain is now a project manager for one of the companies I admire most in Romania. In the company I am working for, there are people who are ambitious and determined and at the same time human and willing to lend a hand when help is needed. All in all, they are people whom I have learned a lot from, people I am grateful for having in my life. It is very inspiring to think about them at times and talk to them, as they are models already now, without going through a text book or without being public persons.

Please lock me away
And don't allow the day
Here inside, where I hide
With my loneliness

I don't care what they say,
I won't stay in a world without love

(Vonda Shepard in a reinterpretation of the Beatles’ World Without Love)

Anger Management

People get angry, it’s normal. I mean, come on, there are lots of things that piss you off every day. It might be that I’m under Mars lately, because there really was a bunch of things to get angry about. Such as the Internet running so slow I could have painted my fingernails while downloading a text page. The taxis that didn’t arrive on time. The many cars and the noise of the street. The guys who let you sit a concert. The unnecessary vulgar displays of affection of people. The wannabe’s. The assumption that time is a gift that you can give anyone, anytime. Carelessness. Lack of sensitivity. People who do not read their e-mails. People who do read their e-mails and ask stupid questions. Blogger functioned badly. The list is long.

Anyway, today I sat thinking about the best method to handle these daily nerve situations. As “What Would Jesus Do” doesn’t really work with me and counting to ten and backwards only functions rarely, there must be some other methods, I thought. Below is the result of my anger management reflections.

1. One I have been practicing for quite a long time was to let the anger go through me and cool myself down before reacting. This one is dangerous for health, I hear.
2. Shouting and bumping things till people understand you’re nervous and avoid you is also an option. This one is quite damaging for social health and should be avoided.
3. My favourite (of Japanese inspiration) is cracking stuff on the floor. My mother used hard things (such as an ancient radio), so after throwing it repeatedly on the floor, it would be functional again. I must admit I’ve only tried this one with pillows and toy animals, it isn’t that effective.
4. Biting off fingernails is also worth trying, the damage can be little if the fingernails are covered with nail color. The nastier it tastes, the better.
5. Making love is rumored to be often tried by certain water signs and might result in damage afterwards (it is also rumored they can be sadist at times).
6. Scratching cars, cutting their tyres, drawing on them with sprays is also acceptable, although in decent limits.
7. Singing in a karaoke is also good, lets you breathe in some energy, and you can even imitate some death metal band without being marked as Satanic or whatever.
8. Taking up tae-bo or aerobics might also help cool off.

And guess what :) I’m almost fine now.

I'm hot, and when I'm not
I'm cold as ice
Get out of my way
Just step aside
Or pay the price
What I want I take
What I don't I break
And I don't want you
With a flick of my knife
I can change your life
(AC/DC, Problem Child)

The Road to Hell

There was a concert on Tuesday and I went with some of my colleagues from work. What I liked most was a more difficult piece by a French composer, which resembled Beethoven in terms of energy of the composure and the Russian composers in terms of intricate plot. One of my colleagues had come to the concert immediately after work, and was obviously more concerned with biting off his fingernails, scratching his stool and looking at the decorations of the concert hall. I suppose that is a way to say "I'd better like to be home than in this concert where I only sit to save face". At least he reacted, though, and left before the bis. I know plenty of people (being blessed with an easy-going social attitude which enables me to gather many stories) who are strangers in their own lives, but fail to notice it, save reacting in a way.

But what does this mean? I've read a short-story by Turgheniev a long time ago. It was about a woman who re-married three times, with three different men, who had different personalities and different jobs. Each time she married, she took on the habits and the personality of that man, and in between marriages (they all died, either in the war or in stupid accidents), she did not know what to do with herself, until she eventually died. It's the same with most modern people. They start off doing a job, or getting involved in a romantic relationship, or do something... And then they forget to stop and evaluate all the good it might bring. They forget about their dreams as teenagers or children and then whine at the end of their lives and try to place the blame on circumstances or people that might have deterred them. Instead of that, they should be looking at the way they themselves have decided to live their lives and spend their hours, days and weeks only to liaison with the past hour, the past day and the past week. They live their lives with short term purposes, and grand plans and dreams mean nothing to them than a child's play. It's much too "idealistic", they say, and do nothing but to regret. What I think is that most of us are on the true road to hell once they stray from their Golden Path.

Speaking of which, latest news: I've finished the 5th book of Dune (The Heretics of Dune), I've seen "Something's Gotta Give" last night and I'm going to another classical concert tonight.

I said 'mama i come to the valley of the rich
Myself to sell'
She said 'son this is the road to hell'
On your journey cross the wilderness
From the desert to the well
You have strayed upon the motorway to hell
(Chris Rea, The Road to Hell)

Raistlin and the Rose

It is dangerous to live somebody else’s dream and forget about your own dreams. You hardly recover unless you know exactly where you want to go and what you want to do with your own life.

Dana dixit :) on returning from the sickness that has had me blackout for the past two weeks. Hello ye all and welcome. The freak show @ Sundance goes on.

Will you hold on to me
I am feeling frail
Will you hold on to me
We will never fail

I wanted to be so perfect you see
I wanted to be so perfect
Like dying in the sun
(The Cranberries, Dying in the Sun)

Not a supergirl

Lately I have been facing quite some stress and constantly got sick. I guess it takes more resistance to be a supergirl, so I am taking a trip to Sibiu for some relief.

It's funny though, had I been following my own advice, I would probably feel better.

And then she'd shout down the line tell me she's got no more time
'cause she's a supergirl, and supergirls don't hide.
And then she'd scream in my face, tell me that leave, leave this place
'cause she's a supergirl, and supergirls just fly
(Reamonn - Supergirl)

We're Damaged People

Working from 9 to 23 and then arriving home in a state of higher perception, where dreams and reality mingle, is an experience I’m having on an unfrequent basis. Do we even notice what is real around us? Do we even care to sever dreams from reality? Sometimes all we can do is just keep trace of what might be real and not let get ourselves be drawn to impossibilities.

A recent Discovery documentary regarding narcolepsy made me draw a mental parallel between those sleepwaking people and the office life, especially before the usual cup of coffee :-). And then again, what can we do besides sleeping? See here for a broader view.

Precious and fragile things

Need special handling
My God what have we done to You?
We always try to share
The tenderest of care
Now look what we have put You through...

Things get damaged
Things get broken
I thought we'd manage
But words left unspoken
Left us so brittle
There was so little left to give
(Depeche Mode, Precious)

Short bits because of KIBS :)

Just a short one today:

1. Duran Duran is touring Bucharest on the 19 October and we probably will attend (to make up for Stufstock);
2. My new favourite song: Suede - Everything will flow;
3. According to the Romanian legislation I will probably only be able to get a cheap car by the end of this year or a jeep in ten year's time, as the excises will be adjusted to the EU level for the first car registration.

And that's the hardest part

I have only returned from a lovely vacation week at the seaside to see that nothing has changed. We were happy to enjoy very sunny weather and could swim a lot, and there is internal energy enough now as to appease the dumb feeling that comes with autumn (more work, more deadlines etc, for a workaholic the true juice of life - ?!).

Highlights of the holidays were, among others, reading Breakfast at Tiffany’s by Truman Capote, seeing "Love lasts for three years" (and disagreeing with it), rowing a canoe to the old shipwreck, trying the Bulgarian cucumber soup and getting burned in a one-piece bathing suit in the sun. There were some ideas that came up at the seaside, which I will share with you later.

The most interesting still was what I found when I came back from holidays (in which I had made some unfortunate attempts to connect to my office server). Not sufficing my proud ownership of more than one mobile phone, my employer decided to have me permanently connected to the office email. He thus invested in a device clever enough as to notify me of any new emails arriving in the inbox, besides featuring Internet, Bluetooth, calls and the rest. So I am officially a BlackBerry-holic (for the good it may bring).

Someday I swear I’ll go back to launching smoke signals.

PS1: Next weekend is a jolly one, with the fourth Stufstock coming up. Meet you there :-)

PS2: The Placebo concert left me disappointed, with a continuous brainsmashing punk sound that didn's come close to what I had listened before and a bored-depressed Brian Molko whose tendency was rather to fight the mic than to sing something into it. Remains the voice and the presence, questionable in motives.

And I said "What about Breakfast at Tiffany's?"
She said "I think I remember the film
And as I recall, I think we both kinda liked it"
And I said "Well, that's the one thing we've got"

(Deep Blue Something, Breakfast at Tiffany's)

It's not about doing the things you love, it's about doing things with the one you love

Tonight I went to a movie with one of my oldest and best friends here in Bucharest. The movie for the evening was The Break-Up. It was a good choice for a variety of reasons, especially since my friend had broken up with her 4-year boyfriend some time ago. Except for the fact that American men (hm… only them? :-)) need to be fancy, art-needs-to-be explained-to millionaires to even get close to looking acceptable and men in general only get to cooking when things get serious (read: breakup is close), my takeaway was that when things do come to an end, it’s more courageous to take another step and another step, till there is another path that opens up in front of you. Although clinging to the past and crying about your loss might sound enticing, taking care of yourself, looking good and taking in another deep breath of life might prove to be a much better idea.

There was a declaration my friends and I once hung up on our board room’s wall: “We believe in the dignity of the individual and live our lives as we see fit.” It was so good having the feeling all four of us are still living that. And here’s to you, girls! :-)

and through it all she offers me protection
a lot of love and affection
whether I’m right or wrong
and down the waterfall
wherever it may take me
I know that life wont break me
when I come to call
she wont forsake me
I’m loving angels instead

(Robbie Wiliams, Angels)

Let me tell you of my need to reach the sky

After some weeks in which I only arrived home to eat and eventually sleep, I have finally returned to a state of higher grace in which I have started to view my room as an organic part of myself (like a snail’s home, but metaphorically different). There are some changes I have in mind – moving some furniture around, framing some pictures and putting them on the walls, painting the window frames, all in all making some changes that are meant to make my organic room feel as enthusiastic as I am about the recent changes in my own life.

Speaking of which, I went swimming two days ago and met a friend whom I hadn't seen in quite a long time. It was quite disturbing to try to answer his question "What have you been up to lately?", as I was not really up to anything but work, some reading (Dune first series), only two movies (Hearts in Atlantis and Dune), a bowling session with the team, two days in Sibiu and that kind of says it all. However, by taking up swimming again and starting to visit friends, I hope to boost anew my connection with life.

Cheers!

Let me tell you 'bout my life,

Let me tell you 'bout my dreams,

Let me tell you 'bout the things that happen, all is real to me.

Let me tell you of my hope, of my need to reach the sky,

Let me take you on an awkward journey, let me tell you why.

Let me tell you why

(Iron Maiden, The Reincarnation of Benjamin Breeg)

A friend in need's a friend indeed, a friend with weed is better

Somebody once sang in my ear, in a crowded place, "Every me... and every you" in a silent voice, whispering a breath of his soul, and looked at me with eyes meant to make me remember, after years, that it was indeed only me and him back then. Regardless of the people around us and cut away from time, we were alone for a fraction of time.

I will remember that on the 13th August, when Placebo will be concerting at the Arenele Romane. Go for tickets here.

Always stays the same, nothing ever changes,
English summer rain seems to last for ages.

I’m in the basement, you’re in the sky,
I’m in the basement baby, drop on by.

(Placebo, English Summer Rain)

Hable con ella - Talk to them

They say a man is a two-face, who shows sharp teeth at work and then plays angel back home (most women are the same, by the way). In cutting my way through the corporate jungle, I’ve experienced many people who showed one face at work and a completely different one at leisure or under different circumstances. In my (at first) inexperienced mind, there was at first confusion about which face one should work with when deciding on a way to handle that specific person. The secret lies in tuning yourself to the situation and the person, reflecting their attitudes and gestures and (most especially) their words.

Have you ever noticed how your colleagues, parents and friends react when you answer them by using the same words they use? The feedback comes in a friendly tone of voice; a verbal conflict is less likely to arise. People tend to see themselves in others and the sense of foreign scares them and makes them uncomfortable (that’s stopping short of saying aggressive).

There are some communication experts who will never let you see their true face, and there are people lost in translation, who will tell you everything you may want to hear and then get lost in their own mis-understandings. Let the person in front of you be your guide, dip into their emotions and you will find the way to getting past their alternative faces and unmasking their true self.

When you’re here
every thought I ever had becomes clear
But when you’re far the only light I ever see is the Stars
And when you go, the feelings burn as they grow
Cause to me, to me you’re Beautiful
(Reamonn - Josephine)

Give me endless summers - Lord I feel the cold

Have you ever lost a lover, a friend or parts of your family – not through sudden death, but by slowly becoming strangers? Have you ever felt how much you have hurt someone by not being there when they needed you? The pain only comes long afterwards, when you feel their dear presence not any longer near, like a blank inside you that will never be covered by anything.

It all starts with small refusals to go someplace together - because of lack of time we always say (and know that there is more to it) - that damp getting-used-to pattern we know, that shallow i-do-not-need-more feeling, commodity to do anything else than the daily routine and a strong conviction that those who are near will forgive our smallish thinking and their dismissal. They do, indeed, but even the most patient cannot feed their picture of you only from memories.

After some time, when you realize that work is not all there is, and only calling your dear ones from time to time is not a solution, you want to go back and reconnect. But time can seldom be lived simultaneously by human beings. There is awkwardness around these meetings, unless the connection is stronger and not outlived. There is that feeling nothing new can be said, although so many things have happened in the mean time and there are worlds to share. You often find you’ve forgotten the words to their heart. That cold look they bestow on you, seemingly asking why you haven’t dropped a line for long, can only be surpassed by getting back in touch and regaining faith in the relationship. Some of us often do this when it is too late.

After great pain, a formal feeling comes
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Toombs
The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore,
And Yesterday, or Centuries before?

The Feet, mechanical, go round
Of Ground, or Air, or
Ought A Wooden way
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone

This is the Hour of Lead
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons recollect the Snow
First-Chill-then Stupor-then the letting go

(Emily Dickinson, After great pain, a formal feeling comes)

Don't you think?

Lying to ourselves efficiently is the one thing every one of us can learn beyond perfection. I already wrote about the world we build for ourselves, in thinking that we alone can know, that we alone can live, dream and build edifices of lust and what we are so used to calling “performance” and “success”. In flying so high and in aiming to worlds beyond belief, we forget about ourselves, forget where we left off and what we really used to be like.

There is in each of us a real picture of ourselves and the way we are. Each one of us has but the amazing power to paint another picture, as close as possible to what one would like to be regarded upon. This creates a world of masks, through which only the bravest can still see the real face. All others either get lost or become somebody else – without even noticing it.

Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out when
You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up
In your face
(Alanis Morisette, Ironic)

I want to live in fire

I felt compelled to write this after someone asked me in reply to this post how the Apocalyptica concert on the 31st May in Bucharest turned out. Then Mihai’s review through his music reminded me I wanted to write about the concert. And here is the tale from A to Z, the way I experienced it and maybe the way it was meant to be.

On arriving at the Arenele Romane at 19.34, 4 minutes after the concert was supposed to start, I learned an important lesson: NEVER arrive at a concert on time. It’s the same as with parties: the sooner you get there, the less fun you have. The opening of the concert was done by two Romanian bands of uncertain descent; the first one was Bucium I think, and as far as I remember played a sort of Phoenix-copycat music. The second sounded like Nightwish reloaded, with a wannabe Tarja shouting in a high-and-false-soprano-voice into the microphones that were configured for the four cellos. I prayed them out…

The concert itself left nothing to be desired (but to live in the fire they played… :-)). The Roman Arenas were well filled up by the time the Finns showed up, all dressed in leather and carrying their world-famous cellos. The intro was given by “Path” of course, an earlier melody from their Metallica reinterpretations, the ones which originally made the four classic music students famous. For the most part of the concert they played tracks from their newest album, “Amplified: a Decade of Reinventing the Cello.” The interesting part (especially for those who have not listened to more than The Cult and Inquisition albums) was the drums. What surprised us that night was the way a live rock concert with bass replaced by cello and accompanied by drums could tear our senses apart and put them back together like Apocalyptica did. I breathed in the energy as I let myself carried away on metallic tunes on classical instruments – excellently played and amazingly rock.

I want to live in fire

with all the taste I desire

it's all good if you let me dive

with some sharks on the ground

you lose your routine

you lose your routine

cause I found my path

(Apocalyptica, Path 2)

You pulled my sleeves around my heart

A short note about courtesy – since everyone is already discussing the Reader’s Digest’s Global Courtesy Test. There is more to courtesy than just a nice carton PR smile and trying to seem nice when all other gestures say something else. The essence of courtesy is being at peace with the others and appreciating them for what they are: persons (this is to say I love my team ;))

PS: Come to Sibiu – my hometown - sometime; I think you’ll note the level of courtesy of the people there to be above the one in New York… ;-)

Because you're gorgeous
I'd do anything for you
Because you're gorgeous
I know you'll get me through
(Babybird, You're Gorgeous)

Transit

… and so I’m back after a “short” break, which lasted just about long enough as to think about the new topic focus of the blog (some people told me it was rather on the literary side of the matter and that perhaps I should consider wrapping things up – or start publishing in some freaks’ magazine :)).

In the mean time, some new developments took place at work, my team is approaching an important deadline, everyone is tired out and stressed, but the team mood is just as good as it gets and we are really enjoying the project and the constant challenges (about 2-3/day, and if you consider that each has implications in further parts of the project plan, which needs to be modified accordingly, you might grasp the fun of the situation).

Today I will write about a topic that is dear to me: transit. It all started with asking myself what people think about when commuting from one place to the other – be it on bus, car, or by climbing stairs. Most think about nothing probably, they either put one leg in front of the other and mechanically reach the top of stairs, or just look out of the vehicle window and sing themselves some little song while the landscape changes. Some might think about what awaits them when they reach destination, or about the current issues that bother them. But generally, this moving is just some time to waste Is this transit? Is this what we do when moving from one phase to another in our lives, too? Just mindlessly taking on the change and only wondering about it when it is too late… ?

There’s a famous quote saying “Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans. ” (John Lennon). I can’t help wondering that planning might not be the solution to achieve success… and be happy.

Sing woman, sing for the year
Sing for the love, sing for the tears
Sing woman, if it's just for today
Maybe tomorrow, the good lord will take you away

(Aerosmith, Dream On)

The innocent can never last

Does romantic involvement make you less competitive in your professional life? What is more important – to be happy and spend more time with your loved one(s) or lead a thriving professional life, in which leisure time is scarce and working hours are long? The choice might sound easy for some of us yuppies, but the question remains and it is being answered by different people in different ways…

It might be an overstatement to say that presently the Romanian society is in a development phase - it has been said so many times before. This means that personal success is measured in the money being made, the number of home appliances present in the (but of course…) modernly decorated flat and the brand of the car stationed in front of the house (“c’mon, still a Ford man?… bah, I just got a jeepie…”). It’s difficult to hold on to a romantic relationship with a “Make more money” mindset. What I mean here transcends the need for financial stability – it is the point where you start indulging in the “More is good” thought, where you forget how to stop and start neglecting everything and everyone around you because you get so tied up in your daily to do’s, that you quit understanding any of what is going on around you…

Trying to separate the work life from the personal life is indeed difficult. The two interconnect and mingle in a way that would not have been thought possible only some years ago. I think the worst part about this is that you come to set the value scale wrong – by using the professional benchmark to measure your personal success.

Soon, I will change the focus of this blog. Professional vs personal life is indeed a captivating topic, but I might be in the wrong by overstressing it the way I have been, lately...

It was a long sad supper without you
I had to be cruel to be kind
We have to leave the past behind
La la la
And isn't it strange how people can change
And isn't it weird how people I feared
They all seem worthless now
(The Cranberries, Sorry Son)

The coming of age

We live in our own little castles by the sea or in the mountains – close to our dreams, nourishing them and painting them time and time again with our beautiful colours, growing them big and fluffy, like home pets or fairies kept in golden cages. We indulge in thinking they only belong to us and only are there to light our way from one breath of darkness to another.

What about the fulfillment of those dreams? What about that church photography session planned for years, what about that long-forgotten visit to meaningful professors, what about that book meant to be read for years and postponed for so long…? More than our daily (and successful) office life and dearly beloved laptops, broadband Internet connections and mobile phones (oh my mobile phones… what would I be without you…), eating in fancy restaurants and daily information exchange to mostly intelligent and understanding people, it is the hope that sometime we will fulfill all those wishes we kept so well-hidden inside us that raises our look past our day’s multitasking.

I’ve been coming of age lately… since I have started to dare enter some of my dreams and not only grow them (and myself) old.

Let me take you on a trip
Around the world and back
And you won't have to move
You just sit still
Now let your mind do the walking
And let my body do the talking
Let me show you the world in my eyes
(Depeche Mode, World in My Eyes)

Snowblind

Just an addition to what I wrote yesterday about listening more to others: admitting that one is wrong and saying sorry the right way (so that the other one really feels the repentance) is something few people can do (or at least few people I met). More than that, it is important to understand what has upset the other and try not to repeat it again.

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine
I keep my eyes wide open all the time
I keep the ends out for the tie that binds
Because you're mine, I walk the line.
(Johnny Cash, I Walk the Line)

I have learned by now - there never is an easy way

To think that people are essentially bad or good, just because you keep seeing them every day in the same circumstances, is a form of self-centered thinking (aka solipsism) which is widely spread in today’s offices. We never listen to what others have to say and indulge ourselves in some kind of impression that all we see, think and feel must be correct. Alignment with others happens without control, and it is often found that such alignment comes much too late to do anything.

There comes a moment for each of us when we realize that without the ones around us we are nothing, that life cannot be lead in a “splendid isolation” in which decisions are being taken without understanding the needs of the ones around us, as well, a point in which not one conversation is fruitless and not one interaction with people lacks meaning.

“It's a wonder I haven't abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart.” (Anne Frank, Diary)

This morning I got reminded of the song Never an easy way, by Morcheeba.

I think I slip the net,
But I cut myself free,
I'm not losing yet,
So don't forget me.

We got other things besides the sun. The rainbow, for example

VERGNÜGUNGEN von Bertolt Brecht

Der erste Blick aus dem Fenster am Morgen
Das wiedergefundene alte Buch
Begeisterte Gesichter
Schnee
der Wechsel der Jahreszeiten
Die Zeitung
Der Hund
Die Dialektik
Duschen
Schwimmen
Alte Musik
Bequeme Schuhe
Begreifen
Neue Musik
Schreiben
Pflanzen
Reisen
Singen
Freundlich sein. = Being friendly. Even to taxidrivers who get you to work in time. Even if they are paid for this, even if you will never see them again in your life, there is nothing more rewarding for anyone than to feel their work and what they do for you is truly appreciated.

Have a wonderful day, all of you.

How could I ever think it wasn't true... ?

Information overload is an issue every one of us has had to deal with at some point in their professional or personal lives. The usual feeling relating to overload relates to personal efficiency, to not being "good enough" for all there is to do, to lose grip and not to be able to return to a single point. In my experience, the absence of clear boundaries between personal and work life leads to situations that can make a mess out of otherwise calm and organised individuals. Work needs to end in the evening and make place to a piece of intimacy with oneself. In the evening, I want to be able to shut all my files, store my laptop in some part of the house and relax by drinking some tea or having a bath.

As Kazuo Ishiguro puts it (in a slightly different context, though), "the evening is the best part of the day". After working long hours, one needs to come back to oneself, focus on the person one truly is and leave the office mask aside. In the evening, colours are finally true.

Now is the time to face your lies
Open your eyes, open your mind
Proud like a God don’t pretend to be blind
Trapped in yourself, break out instead
Beat the machine that works in your head
(Guano Apes, Open Your Eyes)

Godot has just arrived

As I arrived yesterday from the seaside, my mind was strolling away to decisions - and the necessity and freedom to take them. Most of us live our lives in a sort of expectation. We all wait for Godot, mom and dad, or somebody to come and deliver us from the difficulty of thinking for ourselves and take responsibility for what we decide, instead of finally understanding that nobody will come, that we are still alone with ourselves, mostly in the crucial moments, and that we should be happy for this freedom, cherish it in us and stick to our decisions once we know what we want.

Cheers! and don't waste this summer - be it in Vama Veche, in the mountains or in your office.

As my memory rest,
But never forgets what I lost.
Wake me up,
When September ends.

Summer has come and passed.
The innocent can never last.
Wake me up,
When September ends.
(Green Day, When September Ends)

All at sea

Tonight I'm "all at sea / where no-one can bother me" - sipping in the breeze as the silence of a kiss. Drinking on the beach, watching the sunset and the sunrise, singing songs of make-believe... and dreaming dreaming dreaming away :-) see you there - or see you when I return.

So fly away Peter and fly away Paul - from the finger-tip ledge of contentment.
The long restless rustle of high heel boots calls.
And I'm probably bound to deceive you after all.
Something must be wrong with me and my brain - if I'm so patently unrewarding.
But my dreams are for dreaming and best left that way - and my zero to your power of ten equals nothing at all.
(Jethro Tull, One White Duck)

We never change, do we

Disclaimer: this post may sound ultra-rationalistic and somewhat derived from Ayn Rand’s objectivism. Well it is not. Read closer.

Following the short Easter holidays, my topic for the day is departure. Leaving may sound like an escape from one state to another for most of us, but it comprises more than just a movement between two points, A and B. When leaving, one usually does it with a purpose and with the (sometimes shared) illusion of return to the point of origin of movement. While this may physically be correct, in spirit you never return the same. Leaving means journey, and each journey we undertake changes us, perhaps unknowingly, in most cases irreversibly.

Leaving means taking a direction and is thus an act of decision as well as an act of self-expression. When leaving a place, a job, a relationship, a life, one exits a system only to enter another system, breaks free from a set of dependencies only to accept another set of dependencies, so you might understand leaving more than just a signal of termination - it signifies commencement. It is the articulation of desire, of feeling harboured deep within us and is not meant to harm or to produce grief in what is left behind, but to fulfill one’s potential to the highest achievable level, by exploring potentialities.

Thus, I would not consider departure as an equivalent of breaking free as it is often understood, but as a state of continued dependence, which is probably more acceptable than the previous state. It is but feeling that causes us to change.

If you don’t need it every day
But sometimes don’t you just crave
To disappear within your mind
You never know what you might find
So come and spend some time with me
And we will spend it all at sea
(Jamie Cullum, All At Sea)

Dragonfly

This day is one of preparation for feast, for the ones who fasted. I found myself thinking this morning - what does fasting really mean? Is it really about denying yourself those cookies, about being what you are not in order to train the will and feel at peace with respecting cannons (and in some cases brag about it)? Or is fasting something that we do every day, with every word we speak, every desire we feel and every look we have at things that do not belong to us although we might have wished it? Thinking about it, it ocurred to me that fasting is actually one's own indulgence towards him/herself. We should love when the time comes, taste the wine when it fills the glass in front of us and laugh when there is something to laugh about. Fasting means being moderate in our everyday life and doing things when they are due, and living at peace with oneself - and the others. It is something perpetual, and not a twelve-weeks-a-year-must-do.

May Easter bring light!... and may it be the beginning of a wonderful fasting/feasting time.

I have this theory, that if we told we’re bad
Then that’s the only idea we’ll ever have
But maybe if we are surrounded in beauty
Someday we will become what we see’cause
anyone can start a conflict
It’s harder yet to disregard it
I’d rather see the world from another angle
We are everyday angels
Be careful with me ’cause I’d like to stay that way
(I'm sensitive, Jewel)

Listen to the girl...

It should be funny to be somewhere up on the puffy clouds and look down on what is happening in the city. Some of the people down there may not be able to sleep, others have a lot to think about... In my experience, the night can be a good adviser if it is used for the purposes the season entices... Rest, at this time of the year.
Reminds me of one of my favourite movies :)

Sam: Boss, ain't you going to bed?
Rick: Not right now.
Sam: Ain't you planning on going to bed in the near future?
Rick: No.
Sam: You ever going to bed?
Rick: No!
Sam: Well, I ain't sleepy either.
(Casablanca, 1942)

The trick is to keep breathing

Joy is not a constant condition. Most people manage a
settled cheerfulness, but this – no matter how admirable – has nothing to do
with joy… which flashes suddenly on our darkness. Like the light in an El Greco
painting, joy does not merely illuminate the landscape… it transforms it.

(Sir Wendy Beckett)

Sometimes I feel like looking deep into the night, taking in a breath of fresh air and exhalating all my being into the unknown. It is in nights like this one, on the edge between spring and summer, when warmth is not yet complete and cold need not touch you if you don’t stay out for too long. And if you listen hard enough, you can hear the sound of the city snoring, whispering, barking, breathing, living…

Good night everybody, wherever you are :)

Some call it faith, some call it love.
Some call it guidance from above.
You are the reason we found ours,
So thank you stars
(Katie Melua, Thank You Stars)

Hour for Magic

Last night I wrote a post about a story I’d read once and that impressed me. Seemingly, Blogger wanted to warn me about my long texts and didn’t save my draft upon previewing. Perhaps it is better this way, the story was a bit long and it would have given way to various Christian, management and existential interpretations on life and what lies beyond it. The idea behind the entry is still nagging at me: the magic in creation is the one spark in our everyday existence that can transform it into bliss. The episode I quoted to illustrate this was a young man pulling out his heart from the chest, a heart so filled with passion and love that it shone like a guiding light for others, illuminating darkness and providing warmth. The same heart was full of bloodand misery when its owner died near to it, in the grass, after fulfilling his mission. Overlooking the setting and the background of the story (close in essence to Plato’s Cave, but defying it by a sort of a happy-end), the plastic image behind this becomes visible: pouring wonder into one’s being – even for the one moment of illumination that will stay with us until the end of time – is the most we ever get from life.

We do not live for moments, though. We are born into processes most of us sustain without taking a step outside the movie and asking who we are, where we are heading and why on earth we want to get there. Our relations are thus loveless, our business lives become pointless, the politics we do are meaningless and our reasoning thoughtless. Reminded of the American Prayer. Jim Morrisson. Break on through the other side (if it'd bring something, I would :) )

Do you know how pale & wanton thrillful
Comes death on strange hour
Unannounced, unplanned for like a scaring over-friendly guest you've brought to bed
Death makes angels of us all & gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as raven's claws
No more money, no more fancy dress
This other Kingdom seems by far the best until its other jaw reveals incest & loose obedience to a vegetable law
I will not go
Prefer a Feast of Friends
To the Giant family

Luck Be a Lady

Paraphrasing Margaret Thatcher's "Being a leader is like being a lady. If you have to tell others you are one, you probably are not" - having an identity is the same. If you need to re-state it and theoretise it all over again, it probably does not exist.

The Doo Bop Song

“Finding Forrester” is basically a movie about the friendship between an older, white writer (played by my favourite, Sean Connery) and a black student he takes on as an apprentice to enhance his superlative writing skills. The story, as told by Gus Van Sant (who also did Good Will Hunting, another story of a high-potential kid from the wrong social setting – turned into brilliant mathematician), walks the line between being just another anti-racism manifesto and falling into the juicy American dream story. Although Robert Brown as Jamal Wallace doesn’t really convince me as the Bronx teen who suppresses his natural gift just to gain his social acceptance from the basketball he is playing with friends, the story gains its realistic twist from the “shkottish” way Connery is supporting his part. We must take further steps in understanding why he is hiding from both himself and his past. Author of a highly successful and meaningful book, the senior writer retreats into his Bronx apartment and denies the world any further contact. The pain that follows creation is greater and more lingering with him, the prolonged feeling nothing else that great could be produced again determines a self-imposed isolation in which the only signs of life are the basketball games of the Bronx teens and filming birds. That life can be hurting and that sensibility can be killed in contact with other minds, rough enough as not to care about the colours and sounds that exist beyond their dull everyday existence is something every sensitive person needs to cope with. Still, buds of green (such as mentoring a young man into the adulthood of his writing and of his life) can let that inner feeling of greatness spring again, can help one find the path back to himself.
This is how creation begins – from contact with people and from the uniqueness of moments we care/dare to take a closer look at.

I see skies of blue..... clouds of white
Bright blessed days....dark sacred nights
And I think to myself .....what a wonderful world.
(Louis Armstrong - What a Wonderful World, from the FF OST)

Where are you taking me?

Meeting new people is not my piece of cake. I am tired of the stretch-out-the-hand routine, smile-when-say-name function and say-something-smart-while-smile procedure (such as either "SO nice meeting you" or any phrase to position yourself towards the new acquaintance / like "You know, I'm the one who drove you crazy with those emails back then" / or whatever)(as if I cared).

Still, there are people I like to see. I'd like to meet them for the first time over and over again. People who still believe they can change the world, who are able to wake up (like that green Canadian frog that can withstand being frozen and afterwards come back to life) from every hit life blesses them with and still hold on to their madness - to their dreams. Every time I see them or talk to them I see joy of life and that spark I am sure will ultimately change the world. Not through a sudden revolution to overthrow the status quo :) but through constant and consistent actions to follow their goals.

Tonight I saw "Finding Forrester". The movie got me thinking and I hope to write more about it tomorrow. At closing time, I am listening to Ofra Haza, the Yemenite traditional breakthrough of the 80s and 90s. Show Me.

Show me, show me the light
Open the door
Tell me, tell me I'm right
Show me some more

What the hell are you thinking?

Human relationships need to be human in essence and they need the warmth and the time to nurture on and to develop. They need no prioritisation and no emergency setting: they are always important and always immediate to deal with. Love, family, friends: once you balance their importance under the one of work means taking a step on a path that can lead to much grief.

I used to believe in the dignity of the individual, in his/her capacity to live life as seen fit. My belief has stayed the same, with one addition: I live my life fit to hurting nobody else but myself.

Latest news and my melody for the night: Apocalyptica is having a concert in Bucharest on the 31st of May and I'm going. You can find tickets here. Now I'm switching back to one of their most well-known songs: Path II, sung together with Sandra Nasic of the Guano Apes (widely acclaimed for their Open Your Mind; I'll have another post cover for that one).

So boundless I feel and boundless all my fears
Stop running back to old times
Stop running back to old times
You lose your routine... cause I found my path

A Little Overscheduled

You're not in serious trouble, but you could be doing better.

This is the result of a quiz I've taken earlier today... Maybe every one of us could be doing better if it wasn't for those little things that *need* to be done, like the telephones, chats with the colleagues, reviews, endless meetings aso.

Heading for the Latino class. Hopefully the results of my merengue practice this week will pay off :-).

My tip for the day: The Contours - Do You Love Me. Gets you in the dancing mood!

Do you love me? (I can really move)
Do you love me? (I'm in the groove)
Ah,Do you love me? (Do you love me?)
Now that I can dance,(Dance).
I can mash-potato,(I can mash-potato)
And I can do the twist,(I can do the twist)
Now tell me baby,(Tell me baby)
Do you like it like this?(Do you like it like this?)

It's not you, it's me

Tonight's post is more about a mood given by a band and not a particular melody. If you haven't listened to Cinerama until now, perhaps you should start. It's not "just another" pop band that tries to say smart things in complicated lyrics. They sing about romance, relationships, breakups, making love in uncommon places, communication in a couple and do it in a heartfelt and straightforward manner. At some point or the other I found myself in most of the songs they are singing, and listening to them made things easier in some ways. Bits of Let’s Pretend (It might sound a little lame / But we had something so good that I don't want to remember any more / Because whatever it became / It started out as something that I've never quite experienced before / Can we pretend we never met? / Pretend there's nothing to forget / Can we pretend we weren't in love? / Let's pretend we've no-body to be reminded of…) remind me of feelings I have been trying to put aside and Because I’m Beautiful has become an anthem for crazy nights (That's exactly why I love you / Why I can't enough of you / You're unconventional / It's not intentional / And that's the greatest thing about you). Then there are the treason songs, like Get Smart (I heard exactly what you said, but I know he slept in our bed) or Hate (I hate your lies and the guys you call friends / In fact everything is telling me this is where this love affair ends) or the ones where he finds he cannot stop thinking about her, even if he’s with another, like Hard Fast and Beautiful (And deep in the night / I lie awake and think about you / Of course it's not right / But what can I do? / I can't sleep in this bed without you / If you only knew) or Careless (So please don’t ignore me / That would be / Really the end / I’ve just lost a lover / I don’t want to lose a friend / That would be careless / No I’m not still in love with you…).
I love the nostalgic cynicism behind songs like Health and Efficiency (We tried to make love by this lake / I remember you began to shake) or Heels (I don’t really care / That you’ve found another lover / ‘Cause I know he’ll be gone / The moment you get bored / I know I shouldn’t stare / When you kiss him like you kiss the others / It’s just another one / Who thinks you should be adored). It’s all too… real.

Insomnia

The age we live in is one of extreme speed, of constant change, one in which the pictures of our surroundings rush past us at the velocity of the vehicle that carries us. It just might be that we are missing some magic upon doing so. We rush to work, run for busses, nervously push carts through immense halls called hypermarkets to oversatisfy our shopping appetite, we expect our diets to show results urgently, all that is not fast and not on time is not good. We need to study French in two weeks and then get a lifetime certification that we are “connoisseurs”. Our food needs to be ready in a handtwist and we use microwaves, kitchen robots and the like only to shorten our minutes in the kitchen and run towards the next event, which in turn ends more quickly than we’d expected. We don’t even get to know people well because we move on before getting the chance of seeing past their faces. All we get of this world is bits and pieces out of which we form our own little islands of understanding which rarely interact, more often collide and almost always look down on one another full of the despise and containment only low souls can have.

We get up early in the morning and we run towards meetings in which we spend endless hours trying to harmonise our seemingly different views and argue even more when we realise how similar they really are. We get bored of every task faster than it would take to really understand it, start another and another and another until we forget where we left off and get tangled in a web of things we needn’t really do. But still we do them to prevent that inner gap from screaming aloud.

This life that we see rushing past us… as we long for even more and cut down endlessly on what seems unimportant … is the only one we have (at least until further notice). I just wish I felt more often how alive I am.

My mood melody for the night: Motorcycle Emptiness, by the Manic Street Preachers.

Life lies a slow suicide
Orthodox dreams and symbolic myths
From feudal serf to spender
This wonderful world of purchase power
Just like lungs sucking on air
Survivals natural as sorrow, sorrow, sorrow
Under neon loneliness motorcycle emptiness
Under neon loneliness everlasting loneliness

Je suis une urbanne / I am urban

This post needs to be in Romanian, so I send all apologies to my readers who can't deal with the language (if any). I'll provide an extra translation on request (please don't :) ).

Sunt o urbana. Traiesc intr-un oras mare, cu multe masini si suficienta poluare cat sa nu ma tem ca o sa mor din cauza potentialei caramizi care imi va cadea in cap, ci din cauza masinilor si a fumului de tigara inhalat la mana a doua. Ma trezesc dimineata dupa ce suna trei alarme de la trei telefoane si tot nu sunt in stare sa gasesc usa baii. Ma spal pe fata cu fel de fel de substante care cica ar trebui sa ma faca sa arat "pretty"si mananc un iaurt care sa imi ajute digestia (si asa data peste cap). Ma deplasez cu taximetrul si ma intretin cu taximetristii despre ultimele barfe din "Libertatea", despre cum ar trebui tratati politicienii ("mitraliati pe stadioane, domne!"), despre cum e sa fii tanar ("dvs aveti toate usile deschise, domnisoara... da pe mine cine ma mai ia?") si despre vremea de afara ("I watch the weather channel", pentru cei care au vazut Laws of Attraction).

Ziua mi-o petrec la birou. De plictiseala, imi fotografiez uneori colegii cand avem sedinte. Pun pasiune in ceea ce fac si uneori mi-o iau ideile inaintea vorbelor, se produce cate un blocaj in sistem si nu mai sunt in stare sa spun nimic. La pranz mananc in cate un restaurant cu nume obscur, de cartier. Mananc supa de obicei, pe asta nu am cum sa o aduc de acasa la pachet, si oricum e mai distractiv sa mai ai o sedinta de proiect in timp ce te chinui sa invarti spaghetele pe furculita si te intrebi la ce o fi buna lingura. Alteori mananc trei banane si un pachet de biscuiti dulci. Nu ma intreb dupa aceea de ce ma doare stomacul. Cand imi gasesc cate un moment liber, citesc alte bloguri sau citesc stirile zilei de pe 9AM (in special rubrica mondena, ca sa am ce povesti cu taximetristii). Cand am rabdare, citesc articole din industrie si le recomand prietenilor (care probabil nici nu le citesc si bombane "iar nu are ce face").

Seara ajung acasa si imi revad mailurile de pe serverele "neoficiale". Raspund la ce nu ma enerveaza, mananc ceva nesanatos, vad o avanpremiera pe laptop si adorm cu gandul la vacanta din Spania care nu mai vine.

Sau poate viata mea e in alta parte si nu are nici o legatura cu faptul ca am ales sa fiu o urbana?

Interesting to listen to is Mylene Farmer's Pas de temps de vivre. Makes you wonder...

Je n'ai pas le temps de vivre
Quand s'enfuit mon équilibre
Je n'ai pas le temps de vivre
Aime-moi, entre en moi
Dis-moi les mots qui rendent ivres
Dis-moi que la nuit se déguise
Tu vois, je suis
Comme la mer qui se retire, de
N'avoir pas su trouver tes pas...

Piece by Piece

There are two kinds of people in this world, the latter of which are quite a few: the ones who are changed by the systems they enter (read: adaptation), and the ones who change the systems (read: influence the change). Not at once, not through a sudden revolution to overthrow the world, but step by step. They bring their uniqueness in the systems they need to function in and help others to discover their own uniqueness, as well. Although they also need to adapt and grow with the system, they manage to change the settled cheerfulness of the ones around them into joy of life and willingness to breathe more than just the dull grey of every day.

Ideally, there should be something more for each of us than just work. You can, of course, indulge in work and play hide and seek with the other parts of your life, but this is usually a short term solution that takes more than it gives. Lately, an article about a super-performing workaholic lawyer who killed herself in spite of a great career (and a missing life) spammed the inboxes of most yuppies - and not without a reason. There still are people who think that a 300 hours-a-month career, three SUVs in the garrage and two kids alienated by seeing their parents every other week means finding their life's calling. I was quite stunned yesterday at an abroad studying friend's remark that he would sacrifice everything for a career, and keep love and feelings in a background. "Basically how to make money on the stock exchange" is what he values most, in the spirit of a - in my opinion overrated but hey, everyone is free to form their own opinion - new-found Western capitalist life philosophy.

I'm going to practice some more merengue tonight :) and watch Dirty Dancing for the 10th time, not before recommending you the mood melody of the day: Piece by Piece, Katie Melua:

Piece by piece
Is how I'll let go of you
Kiss by kiss
Will leave my mind one at a time
One at a time

Dejalo si quieres continuar (hermano)

Tonight I took my first latino dancing lesson. Moving to the music felt great, although we were only drilled to do the basic steps for salsa and merengue. At some point our teacher had us move our hips in a peculiar way (left to right and right to left, slight ditch on the leg of the moving direction). We were supposed to only move the legs, swing the hips back and forth and keep the shoulders aligned. I had difficulties with finding my hips :) and an inner voice told me it’s because of the biscuits my friend the shopkeeper is joyfully selling to me. Perhaps I should follow the advice of a friend and harmonise my body and soul... (eat more fruit and vegetables, plainly put).

One of the melodies we danced to was Ibrahim Ferrer’s Putumayo (not sure about the title, the one which starts "un compositor / que s'equivoco"). It led me to such a good mood that the moves came naturally. Thus tonight I am listening to some Caribbean music (especially Buena Vista Social Club and some Brasilian Putumayo Lounge extracts). If you have some latino music recommendations, I'd be glad to listen to them.

Just before declaring the melody of the day, I stumbled across the Gorrilaz' Latin Simone, which has some really motivating lyrics (btw, the Spanish version, recorded 2000, featured Ibrahim Ferrer as the leading vocal):

Get up
If you wanna survive
Get oh so alive
In your life
Everything falling out the sky
On top of you
Now what you do
Fill yourself up now
It's the love of your life

Sundancing

For the past few weeks I have been listening a lot to Kent, a Swedish band that sounds like a combination of Coldplay and Radiohead in a slightly different language, seasoned with Scandinavic nostalgy. The melody that inspired me the most (besides "Mannen i den vita hatten", of course, a song about being afraid of death, extremely well orchestrated and even able to claim originality - if only one were not reminded of "Clocks" or "Daylight") was "Sundance Kid". The name probably comes from the eponymous 1969 western "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" starring Robert Redford, basicly the story of the friendship of two outlaws who eventually die together. The song is sung about a lost friend, a complaint about the pain of the loss and the hope that the friendship can somehow be re-created in music. The last line of the lyrics in Sundance Kid reads All we did, all we felt became a song for you.

The essence of sundancing should thus be the one moment of the day when you let go of what has been, a moment when you resume your path after breathing in the magic of a few words or people. The one moment when you suspend your working condition to reconnect to being human.

I'm only putting up the choir of Sundance Kid, by Kent. The rest is in Swedish, so you probably won't understand it anyway :)

Hör du mig?
Hör du mig?
Kan du höra mig?
Allt vi sagt, allt vi gjort blev en sång för dig.

The beauty in the London Skies

I've made friends with my neighbourhood kiosk shopkeeper. We greet one another every morning when I go to work and sometimes see each other at noons when I need some cookies and two bananas. Then we talk for a few minutes, know if the other is ok and then carry on with the daily routine.

She has a small, ugly dog I've even come to like, after I learned that his name is Rex and that she got him the third day after he was born. We felt alike after my confession that I had a dog too, at some point in the past. Mine was nice, of course :)

She was the last person in Bucharest I saw when leaving on Friday and the first one I showed pictures from my little mountain adventure when I returned. Not that she would know me or even care, but she had told me we would have rain showers and that I should dress warmly, which I luckily did.

When I get my biscuits from her, she never tells me that I eat rubbish and that I will probably get an ulcer someday, though her look clearly shows these are her thoughts.

I don't even know her name, and I am sure it is better this way. Two anonymous strangers sharing their own bit of intimacy from time to time.

Oh, yes, the melody for today: Jamie Cullum - London Skies

Will you let me romanticize,
The beauty in our London Skies,
You know the sunlight always shines,
Behind the clouds of London Skies.

I don't want to fall in love (She Wants Revenge)

Yes I am back. No, all is not ok yet but hell, I got some energy to last through this week.

This is a post I'd been meaning to write for quite some time. It has ocurred to me that my generation has a big problem with love. More precisely, it is either afraid of it or completely ignores it when it happens. The daily work and the associated imagined pleasures (like going out with friends, hitting a club to "pick up a chick" or simply hang in front of the computer with CS screens rolling on the eyeballs) take priority before doing something really nice for ourselves, our families or our beloved ones. We are stuck in a maze of not being able to express our emotions without rationalizing about them or without surrounding them with that aura of triviality that makes every feeling dull and gray. We don't recognize the signs of love when they appear, much less listen to the invisible songs our heart can still sing. We talk endlessly about love and never give ourselves way to feel it without being so scared that we'd rather hide behind our glasses and our three mobile phones (have you noticed how many waiting people simply pull out a mobile phone and either play, make a call or stare at it?). We are a generation that is mad about being in control, and admitting real feelings is a pain for many of us. This needs to change.
I promise to get back to the topic at a more decent hour :). Meanwhile, I'd like to hear your opinion on this.

Melody of the day: I don't want to fall in love - She Wants Revenge (album reviewed by Tina on the Musicblog)

Right face wrong time, she's sweet
(But I don't wanna fall in love)
Too late, so deep, better run cause
(I don't wanna fall in love)
Right face wrong time, she's sweet
(But I don't wanna fall in love)
Can't sleep, can't eat, can't think straight
(I don't wanna fall in love)

You get the point.