Posted by: Sk | February 14, 2009

Angels wishes

Sudden awareness

November 13, 2006

It’s never too late, or better late than never. After having obtained such a remarkable success in my professional life (although I’ve never been paid for anything, I swear), after having obtained on top of that such a strong ally as Sask, I have to consider with surprise how little I have left for my private life, that does actually not exist.

Thanks to Sask and her insisting questions on the subject, I may shyly answer that all my successes were nothing but the basis and foundation of the possibility of such a thing, as I could really not imagine myself starting an attempt to conquer another market but my own, if not having extraordinary credit cards and references and things to impress the object of my love, were it … a satellite. I hope you don’t mind if I make of my lovely satellite a female representation, as it should say actually nothing about our real inclinations: women do listen more attentively and may be quite male after all, and be finally nothing but the best path to get what we are searching for, whatever it (he/she) is.

As she thus, does certainly listen with interest to my deep explanations and, as women do, makes quicker synthesis of the person I may be talking of, even if I say ‘you’ in reference to someone else, I will not be afraid of possible misleading interpretations concerning my black roses sent to satellites.

In fact we are double and triple, and even if Sask may be horribly surprised after all that selfish boasting of myself, I’m really horribly shy. What we say behind the screen is certainly not what we are in front of someone and there, and even more so if it is concerning someone I may be in love with, all of a sudden the eternal flow of narcissistic contemplation vanishes and becomes an attentive silence.

In fact, whether we are women or men, we live in a male world, where we have to prove who we are through our position in the world, the appreciation the world makes of our work, and little place is left for our deep ourselves and our secret feelings. To show a someone in order to obtain a goal which is certainly professional, linked though secretely to the very subjective desire of impressing someone else very personally, as having been impressed myself by her very appearance, does have as sliding side effect, once we arrive more or less where we wanted to, that the one we were showing was perhaps not exactly who we are.

Sask may ask herself why I had such a sudden inspiration implying a whole up side down of the world, an invasion of Google’s secret coordinates, and all kinds of enthusiastic expressions of well being and empathetic expansion, and it is certainly not easy to get an answer. Perhaps it was simply because the analysis of a certain psychic character did imply the possibility of hers not minding in the hypothetical realization of my mother’s concept, but this is rather too grippy as an answer.

In my configurations, Sask does see my real self through a complete deformed image, or at least a part of it. After having been invaded by all sorts of subliminal messages arriving from everywhere she simply states: that I’m very intelligent! Well, if this is not a reason to fall in love … In fact the possibility of appreciation of who we really are, in its depth and width has always been for me the foundation of love. Actually nothing was as far from this than facts: she was living in a world were appearance counted even more than essence, where figures and computers and success had more value than poems and literary extravagancy, than flowers and birthday gifts, while I was the kind of absent minded, or seeming as, giving the world the back and inventing even miracles in order to see the wetness of surprise awakening on someone’s face. No idea of computers, no idea of stats, no idea of success and appearance, and I still thought that it was possible for only this person to understand how horribly tiring it can be to pursue human’s happiness as only definite goal. On top of this, this person did not even know what the extreme beauty of a surprise could be: she simply did know everything beforehand, and it was not even pretension, although she had to hide it away, because it would have seemed too pretentious, after all.

What a ‘malin plaisir’ (wicked pleasure) to think it possible to turn her world up side down, to turn around and around with an angel’s face entering in all possible and imaginable systems and coordinates, to see her world sink like the Titanic in frozen oceans and wait with an innocent air behind her back for it to come to a miserable end, and then just say: push the button and put everything into an unreal order with new categories and multiple coordinates. Say, how did you do that? It organized the mess, my dear, should be reason enough to find the key of the solution, too.

That this implied plunging into stats and computers and even success’ logic, to go to the other end of the world hoping that the possible confusion of Cuenca in Spain and Cuenca Ecuador would possibly avoid that an end be put to my love letters long before the dreamed result was obtained, wouldn’t worry me excessively. My mother’s concept implied that someone’s love be always and necessarily imprisoned in a dark tower and guarded by 7 monsters (at least), and if to give to this a contemporary image implied conceiving the tower in the form of professional obligations leaving little time to romantic purposes and ethereal surprises, I wouldn’t mind going even through this learning procedure in order to prove definitely that fairy tales have actual vigor.

In fact, my sister was quite right when she made a description of myself at the age of 13. She said I wouldn’t care about school results (which were not that bad either, but it was that I didn’t care), about image and boasting, but that I would spend thousands of hours in what I had put myself as a personal goal, like searching up the Visigoth dynasties through the house encyclopaedia Espasa Calpe (a reason of adoration of my mother, for who it was the representation of eternal wisdom and compound knowledge, a present brought by her father from a trip to Tanger, Spanish town in North Africa).

It is true that I was accumulating tons of information without anyone getting the slightest aware of it. Juggling with concepts was my deepest secret pleasure. And that goals I put myself were always strange to other people’s eyes, I wouldn’t care about. In fact, the contradiction of my mother’s concept with the possible appreciation of the world of such a concept, and the extreme difficulty in obtaining recognition of what I was doing, as it was immediately attributed to a surrounding man, while nobody did specially evaluate my non existing female characteristics, together with my obstinate will in not giving up whatever interpretation I had given to my mother’s concept, did oblige me to turn the back to the world, where little place was left to such inspirations.

As silence is extremely powerful, and more so if nobody suspects the source of such an inspiring silence, I became with time really but really powerful. The thing was that nobody could appreciate, as all eyes seemed to be scotched to figures and computers, while I was having horrible pleasure in distracting minds that … would completely misunderstand the meaning of the computer’s eternal truth.

It is not that I was full of despise for the world. It was that the world builds up values and categories depending on given structures, and there was simply no place for me there. Consequently I worked on the possible change of understanding, as said, leaving place for mother’s misunderstandings and misinterpretations of reality, without though aggressing the world as I liked it very much as it was, after all. It was impossible to put myself a ’social’ goal, as I would never arrive there: my being did simply not fit into what people expected to be necessary in order to be somewhere. Thus, my goals and aims remained personal and could involve the most surprising loops without it being possible for myself to evaluate the possible social or general implications.

As Sask attracted my attention because she was exactly there where I would have liked to be without it being ever possible, I thought it was worth the while trying to convert my effective power into schemes she would understand, and perhaps only her in all their depth. In fact she was the perfect opposite. After deepest considerations and ironical contemplations I decided that the world was really silly: even if she was fitting exactly into what people would say female, married and with children and the rest of the stuff, yes, quite attractive, (Baruwth says with first hand information as he knows her personally), her internal patterns of behaviour were much more male than mine: extreme consciousness of territorial boundaries, very jealous of other people’s success, quite towards the outer world orientated behaviour, very harsh in orders and with little disposition to show affective impulses, she had little of, to be honest.

My very to other linked vision of things, internal and quiet concentration in the deeper realms, happy with what others could do, always giving in to exterior pressure and little aware of the importance of social representation made me look infinitely much more female than her, whatever appearance would say.

Thus, the following idea arose in my lucubrating mind. Figure out, I said, Sask’s mother had the same brilliant idea than mine, but put some bracketed message my mother forgot to put in her prayers for the well being of the future arising through my coming to the world, something like ’submitting to appearance’. As obedient as myself, Sask did shift her identity to the physical appearance, embodying the ‘male’ of her mother’s concept in repressed inner movements and personal psychology, while I stayed in the supreme reality of concepts denying myself an integration in empirical social environment. Strangely thus, as the inner world belongs usually to women, I started invading women’s fantasy with concepts and psychic reality, while Sask was conquering the outer world in shining female innocence through hardest or toughest male repressed concepts.

This evidence, as a possibility, could form the bridge to the outer world. Sask’s ’system’ had actually the same coordinates than mine and she new what I didn’t know, how the world works. On the other hand, only an extremely sophisticated system as mine could really make her appreciate herself as she was herself, were it putting her system up side down … for a little while.

I thought it was a marvelous challenge that would make me forget all my pain forever and  started working at my plan. It is an evidence though that the one working at impressing her has little to do with the quite soft and relatively distracted individual I’m, and that once she would have managed to convince the world of the extreme genius I was, she would have to help me to find an adequate other in order to organize my private life. Thus, I made up this blog. Here, I’m not anymore the ambitious who doesn’t care about anything in order to arrive somewhere (I learned many things studying her psychology), but someone who goes back home at night and is horribly tired and says a lot of non sense and still has to think of having a joke ready in order to make some one else aware of the fact that I’m back again. I will try to determine this other myself by just writing down what comes into my mind in such a mood, thinking that the possible victim of such a dedication’d be Sask herself. See, she knows the world better than me, and will certainly try to get rid of the burden by simply finding, who better fits to the whole …. If she gets influenced by this new attempt of balancing the world’s negative currents, don’t worry, Baruwth, everything is possible on our way towards ourselves … without implications!

Love tags 1

November 13, 2006

“Sask, you don’t know how much I would make you pay to see you.”


The starting point

November 13, 2006

I live in a world that has gone so far backwards into the Old Testament, that it arrived to the Pentateuch and then stayed somewhere between the pages of Genesis. In my world it is still men who leave their parents and go in search of their love, and my imagination did develop the idea by seeing a man taking as excuse his professional development going from village to village and from town to town, having though in the depth of his unconscious only eyes for the possible one he may love. Does he think he may have found the one, it is of his obligation to learn the family’s language and tradition, to make the possible in order to fit inside of a given order and adapt what he knows to his new environment thus enriching the house he is going to belong to, if … he manages to seduce the chosen one.

To seduce in my eyes fixed in French medieval stories is certainly not to convince the other of falling into his arms, but to develop a secret language only known by both of them, that makes them understand what the other says through signs and even absent gestures. Thus, in my perfect concept, nobody pushes anywhere nor is there any kind of obligation, the male does distractedly lead the female to an absence of herself where she just gives in, in complete unawareness. From then on, the male develops thousands and thousands of strategies in order to keep her happy in order for her not to run away and to avoid disturbing concurrence irrupting into his field of action.

This superb notion is though only a notion. A slight reference in heart that does order movements and behaviour, gestures and sayings, so that the very notion does crash with reality sometimes in less ideal ways, without loosing though its very essence, and feeding the feeling with the excitement that is resulting of the very reality, when the human falls down on earth and forgets the tele guided behaviour depending on frozen coordinates of concepts and obtuse ideals.

In my deep lucubration on the subject, every stepping out of the inner notion or the attempt of pushing the other to do so, is considered a rape or psychic violation and thus, the reason of all coming divorce after. On the other hand it is of the wisdom of the male to remind the female in her abstraction to come back to the inner disposition that was there first, or to put strong barriers of indifference when the other does want to play games on feeling, as well as the other way round, but differently.

There are two types of men: the responsible ones and the irresponsible ones.

There are two types of women: the passing pleasure or the lasting love.

Of course things are not like that anymore, but that is the advantage of references. Being situated somewhere in the depth of history between myth and fantasy, between a dream and a vague goal, it obliges to submit the environing reality to the possibility of realization in a different context, in another world, where the feeling awoken by the notion does determine the very aspect of the outer world. It is not to have a fix idea on how to get somewhere, on how it has to look like, it is the intelligent adaptation of ourselves to outer pressure while fighting to keep a space free where the initial feeling is preserved and secure.

Would this thus mean that the other should necessarily have the same starting point? That is the whole question. Reality is no notion, it does appear to us in images and obligations and needs, although all of us have a memory where we were dreaming something by looking out of the window some time, when we were still young. This dream we sometimes keep, we sometimes betray, we usually forget, and though it is the pillow we sleep on when nothing is going right anymore, it is the shadow of possibility we look at when all doors are closed, and has the same depth, the same sweetness than in the very beginning. At least this principle should be accepted as possible. If it is not, there would be little in common to start from, and though, it may be that this very principle has been forgotten, too, buried in the unconscious, hidden away from the awareness of too aggressive reality, thus, you actually never know. Were it though something I would be aiming at, it would look somewhat like that: to take someone by the hand is nothing but the construction of a path submitting the reality of the other to new combinations of words and undiscovered logics, slowly leading from one reality to a shared new reality, where the notions become visible for the other alone.

In fact I don’t like demonstrations of love very much, they seem plump and heavy to my eyes if they look too much made on purpose, and do seem to fit into my understanding only if they are the reminder, the image, the material presence awakening the memory of some deeper inner encounter, where the eyes see suddenly a piece of reality with the same eyes than the other, and knows it, and recognizes in the demonstration of love, were it a present, nothing but the symbol of the other, that will be there when fright, or other memories, when the world’s pressure and aggressions to make vanish the slight presence of the other in those moments and it is necessary to have something in front you can see, you can touch, you can feel with hands, and skin and eyes in order to bring you back to yourself and the other.

Were it not like that, the incapability of building a home on other basis than the physical presence does certainly make me leave after a while. Some times I say thanks, others, I just shut the door.

What I always make wrong

November 13, 2006

There are two quite surprising features in my behaviour. First of all, I’m so convinced of the fact that the world of souls is so universally interconnected, that I do often do as if the other was long in knowledge of all my sudden reactions and thoughts. Thus, it does happen very often, that I start talking as if the other had been following for years my wanderings through the world of thought and should necessarily be already in knowledge of all the principles and premises. In fact, I came to the conclusion that it was because of a deeper inner need to know someone belonging to my realms even if this were not exactly true. On the other hand, even if misunderstood in the depth, I presumed it could be understood in a certain way, which was in fact the deeper goal. To know that someone takes of what I’m and what I say what exactly he/she may understand at that very moment, without wanting to pretend it is necessarily that nor to want to pierce the whole truth from one second to the other, nor to impose an arbitrary or at least subjective interpretation on it. The impossibility of obtaining this, makes further relationship from then on impossible.

The second wicked aspect of myself is that I adore making mistakes. To see the other in exactly that mood that goes from the desire of getting angry, to the awareness of why his ‘exactness’ should be better, to the wish of giving in even to such a mistake just because I love you, to the temptation of asking something in exchange for having pardoned such a horrible sin, until you make the other burst out laughing because the ironical turn around the lips is already telling you that perhaps … perhaps only if I didn’t do it on purpose I just became aware I had done something terribly wrong.

Nobody has ever understood this somewhat perverted feature of character and the lack of humour does always make me very nervous.

It’s an evidence that I’m someone who doesn’t like to be neither admired, nor looked at, nor taken for a reference, nor whatever may disturb my silent inner peace. On the other hand, I do get quite angry if what there is, is not recognized, so that I may turn my back to someone forever if he/she pretends the nothing he/she does is worth the world whole. The slight balance between the inner pride of the knowledge of having obtained something after much effort, the discreet retirement of a world that would just see a result and not the process of acquisition, the eyes always searching for the marvel others can do, were it less in their own world and environment, thing which enchants me much more, to say the truth, than something I usually know from my calculations beforehand will happen anyhow, while the others result is the object of new attentive challenges and discoveries concerning the how the other arrived there, has often been misunderstood as weakness or snobbery, when I just cynically pointed at the obvious weakness of something someone so pretentiously wanted me to admire.

It is true that I usually hide who I’m. Myself is as visible as it becomes invisible to common eyes, just because I don’t know why I should put Homer and Herodotus on the same plate than the latest cheap fashion. Giving more importance to equality in relationship than to impose superiority, I tend to look as stupid as I think the object of adoration of the other is. This makes that people feel very stupid when I’m there and in the best of cases, they just conclude that I’m because they’d never recognize they are, anyhow. I have rarely met people I could show myself to, were it for instants.

The thing is that reality is for me the proving or not of given premises and hypothesis. I thus tend to make up in my mind highly wicked demonstrations of the invalidity of certain thoughts and convictions from the point of view of the subjective happiness. This is often misunderstood as an almost cynical desire of proving the inferiority of the other (which does reveal parts of the other’s unconscious, on the other hand) and gives often place to horrible quarrels and demonstrations of power I tend to try to avoid.

I’ve never made in concept of a relationship a question of power or domination, but the combination of two sources of power having as goal to keep alive the feeling that fills life and enriches the environment by its very presence. The fact that someone else may see it differently I have always thought extremely funny. In fact I adore people who are not like me at all. If Xristos Kakarantzas was one of my best friends it was exactly because of that: his obvious quite shivering will to show determination in his evident male hood, made me laugh always very much, and to say the truth it was company I enjoyed a lot.

It’s true that I love people who are exactly as they are, with their faults and mistakes, with their laughter and secrets and weaknesses, I do prefer people who do have as inner principle of life to discover the joys of the realm of concepts, or to manifest their particular identity in the most different ways, the way they dress, they move, they work, they organize themselves (they cook …), it’s true that I don’t like people imitating me, nor copying others, nor pretending to what is not theirs, who don’t evaluate their place correctly or give too much importance to the little they have. What most impresses me is certainly the one who is exactly who he is, in the deepest mechanisms even of hiding and masking or leaving in tones, of presuming in evidence or imposing with decision. In fact, it is extremely difficult to find the balance between my obvious drawing attention on me through the insistent non sense making in order to hear someone tell me what I have to do or what I should, my obvious unawareness of what the world does and I don’t understand, and my getting quite angry when someone wants to push me into a direction I can’t accept as obviously diminishing my ability of doing things at many levels.

I do adore order, and disorder does disturb me. I love even more the acquaintance with exception, the why this one and not that one, why now and not then, why here and not there, until an inner sense of common order is established that makes appear the betrayer in the group very quickly. On the other hand, when some passionating question has absorbed all my attention, I do easily forget order although I tend to keep marks of order: I put myself things to do necessarily (Let us say, to eat, to wash my clothes and to have a coffee around the corner), and if I don’t to that, a tilt in my brain does immediately alert me of the fact that I’m running into a wrong path. Too much disorder is for me sign of illness, the question is how to combine different notions of order into one combined order. It is true that it seems I give little importance to appearance, but I do like to be surrounded by elegant people, reason why I may have liked Nicolas so much, and do not like people who look careless in the meaning of expressing ‘I don’t care what you say about my appearance’; is different than ‘I don’t know for who I should do it better nor even how’. It is thus different to express oneself through the choice of adequate to oneself appearance and those who think they’re better just because they managed to shave twice a week.

In fact my lack of integration in the world does mainly come from the fact that I think to have to give while this giving is been acknowledged and if possible, given back in a different way. I had to state that most of the people did careless take whatever was given as if it were own, without spending a thought even in the possibility of giving something to someone else. My greatest pleasure. As I did not want to work in conditions where I should have to give away such an enormous pleasure, or even been considered as idiot for doing so as if the peak of intelligence were to prove the one who gives is an idiot by taking everything away from him and thus make him become … as intelligent as you are, I preferred to keep far distances from this kind of … mentality, I used to categorize under … illness.

Concerning though the person I conceptually loved, I tend to be horribly large. I have some kind of strange notion that does not allow the other giving anything to me as if it could become offending, and on the hand, my entertainment in searching things that may possibly be liked by that person. Seen from an objective point of view, I take thus the pleasure away from the other to do the same I do, and it is not really fair, well considered. On the other hand I look very stupid when someone gives something to me, and tend even not to have a look at it, which may seem very offending, until I take my time to deeply analyze where to structure such a surprise in my main system. Until I have decided whether I liked it or not, whether I say it this way or not, the other will certainly have lost the desire of doing the same again.

In fact I do give more importance to shared time than to objects. I follow with my phosphorescent eyes the absence of mind of the other and with greatest pleasure my presence in the mind of the other, wherever he/she is. The spontaneous will to share time in doing something (not the: it’s of obligation let’s go to the cinema mood), to discover something in work or theory or just let the time pass with certain non sense has the same effective result than what I see usually be the one obtained through a present in others.

In fact there are many strange things in my behaviour, and I will have to put them down one by one. It’s not I’d be willing to change it, as I don’t think there is real love when we start hiding ourselves in order to have a passing adventure or to get something empty we think we wouldn’t get otherwise, it is to know who we are in order to see who could be possibly fitting with pleasure into such general pattern. Otherwise I think it’s better to saty alone. I’ve never thought of life as an imposed tortured, although imposition may draw the clear lines that do allow us with time to start fighting for what we really are as it becomes clear through the constant confrontation with the environment.

You see, Sask, there you have the first sketch in clear coordinates of something that should be matching somewhere. I promise reward if you are of help, and on top of that it would change your ideas …

Love tags 2

November 13, 2006

There is no more surprising beauty than the one you may find in a shattered flower pot.”


November 13, 2006

I was watching a movie and fell asleep on your shoulder.


November 13, 2006


In the morning, I put my feet on the table and smoke a cigarette while my thoughts are still not gathered around me. It’s a few hours you’ve already left.


November 13, 2006

I do rarely get angry, and I don’t mind if others get angry, as long as they don’t become offending. I may shout around, but I’m not angry. In my world everything has some kind of meaning, and little for me to get angry. I’ve seen whole buildings of thought getting destroyed in front of my eyes and there was no time nor space to get angry.

If something happens that disturbs me very much I usually fall into a pit for a while: I link the disturbance to little splitters left in memory that do belong to the same feeling, look for causes and reasons, detect the source and try to eliminate its effectiveness. Sometimes I’m thus not even there, plunged in an abyss where reality is ordered and understood as if it were bringing slightest elements allowing to find an adequate response to what was the disturbing factor. I do rarely talk then, because I wouldn’t know what to talk about: if I started talking, it would look like a series of incoherent and illogical not even finished sentences. Usually I do the same than if I weren’t diving, but my eyes have a plastic sheet and I don’t understand properly what is said. Then, it is better not to come too near me, or you find the trick.

November 13, 2006

One day I will leave an old coin of the table, accidentally without value and rusty. The day you’ll find it again by walking down the street incidentally letting your eyes fall on the very same old coin, you’ll think of me.



November 14, 2006

“If you want me to cook for you, I’ll make some food be brought and you pay. If you are hungry, I’ll try to do my best…”

In fact the food I like is far too fatty, but it is very good. On top of that I adore hamburgers and pizza. Usually I go to eat somewhere, where I’m obliged to submit to other’s people more intelligent dealing with diets.

Sometimes I fix my mind on something like German sweet/acid little peppers (cornichons), but only the German (the French are too acid, and the Polish too salty), or crème de marron I put to freeze and wake up in the middle of the night and eat tons of it, or nestlé sugar condensed milk.

I usually don’t eat anything in the morning, I just drink coffee, but I don’t mind fried eggs with bacon on saturday morning, or boiled eggs. In fact I like eggs very much.

I may spend the day without eating, although I’m obliging myself to eat twice a day and eat less meat, I’m quite fond of, to say the truth. I don’t eat a lot of fish, although I like salmon, or Spanish ham filled ‘truchas’, or other blue fish. It’s that I’m very hungry again if I eat fish. Usually I concentrate myself on heavily vitaminated vegetables I like, as avocados, or fruit, like ‘dátiles’. I have never eaten neither a lot of vegetables nor of fruit, but I like eggplants and zuchini and green peas and ‘coliflor’ or ‘alcachofas’ and things like that, and mangos and strawberries and ‘chirimoyas’ and papaya.

Sometimes I eat a lot of chocolate but that means that my reserves of magnesium are getting low. After I search for different types of nuts until I stabilize my neuron’s functioning.

Things I like very much I eat as little as possible, once or twice a year, like foie gras or oysters or asparagus or Spanish turron and other heavy sweets. In fact I’d make a good cook for weekends, and spend hours and hours making a ‘cocido’ if I ever find the correct ingredients.

The rest of the time I drink coffee. Black coffee without sugar or milk coffee with sugar, until even quite late at night. It’s difficult to convince me of drinking alcohol and I rarely do it by myself. I don’t mind people who know to drink but quite reject people who think they’re funny when they’ve drunk.

If I ever cook (I stopped after having left Greece) I do wash all the plates at the same time. I hate a dirty kitchen and many unwashed plates around. For the rest of the general cleanness of a house I don’t care excessively and I really hate put upon my head have to do the cleaning up. Thus, I deal with order in a way to have the less to do as possible. At table I collect the falling crumbs with my wet finger, and may spend quite a time in after lunch conversation if I don’t fall asleep. It may then happen that I just take all the plates and leave them there until I wake up again. But it is a fact that I don’t like tables full of plates and dirty and in aesthetical disorder.

Milk products I like very much even if I can’t really find in the market those I like. I used to make yoghurt myself, and had fresh milk at home. Cheese I bought from who I knew made a good one and rarely went to the market to buy related things although I like French cheese very much, as well as Spanish manchego.

My favourite dishes I made myself were my extraordinary green pepper steak, my with two slices of fine meet sandwich with cheese and ham in between, my mushrooms in white sauce accompanying another steak, some most excellent bolognese deriving of one of my mother’s receipts, filled ‘alcachofas’ with bread, bacon and garlic, a Spanish tortilla with onion and potatoes, thousands of potatoes related dishes, and excellent turkish/greek imam baildi, with meat and tomato sauce filled eggplants and other sudden inspirations. (There was a time I prepared even polvorones at home and home made sausages and other marvels, but that was when there was a pig at home.)

And other times I eat nonsense in the street, like ‘pinchos’ or fried potatoes, or other things along with that day’s inspiration. But this happens usually only if I have had fish at lunch and I become very hungry again.

It’s true that I like good restaurants, but more the traditional kind where you find good food that is not too sophisticated in a more relaxed atmosphere. I don’t like snobbish places, but enjoy elegant places where they give some importance to service and know to acknowledge that you come by every now and then. Thus I don’t like searching every time for something new although I do go from time to time on discovery tours.

And I like to go out for coffee in places where you could imagine you may have an interesting conversation just sipping your coffee with a cigarette. In Madrid there were many, very elegant, too, like the Café de Oriente or the Gijón and many others. In Paris I liked the Balzar and wouldn’t like so much more fashiones Deux Magots and neighbours. In Istanbul I had also a nice café in a little street next to Beyoglu where I did even enjoy the music. In Greece there was the Pnyka in Serres and Alekos cafeteria in Efkarpia, but I wouldn’t go out very much.

At night I don’t go out. I don’t like the noise and the excessive smoke or many people around, or loud music ‘at fashion’. Maybe I go out to the cinema, or to sit around in an alley, as in Madrid or Paris or Greece. But actually I prefer staying at home and watch a film on tv or video.


November 14, 2006

“That was really late today. I swear I waited two full hours and you never came!”

What I do and what I don’t

November 14, 2006

I’m not the kind of person who thinks I can do all and everything and has to be always much much better than the other. In a certain way I do like people who think so very much, because it makes me laugh, as if the very pretension would be a challenge to prove the contrary on every day’s basis.

On the other hand I’m quite afraid of success: I’ve singular ways to mask what I do even to my own understanding, so that I may even go as far as to develop ways to say something completely wrong which has though inherent the path of understanding for the other… who wanted to do everything better.

Most of the time I don’t even know what I’m doing, in the other’s eyes. A non stopping desire of knowing and discovering leads me sometimes so far in the understanding of something that it may even affect generally established theories, and when I have proved it such for myself, I do never take profit out of it. Happy with some result I just turn my mind to another problem without thinking of inserting it into a more common frame.

In fact, in the very depth of myself, I know that my new developed metaphysics do allow to detect problems and find proper solutions very quickly and easily. My intuitive self does thus act inside of my psychology, even, yes, even if it may cause sometimes violent reactions coming from people who don’t understand the sudden irruption of such disturbing factors in their field of action.

To give an example: for different reasons I studied quite deeply the functioning of dealing with information in the different Intelligence Services. Not for any other reason but because it was getting mixed up with information coming through other ways. As my system does allow to derive a principle of functioning from the very appearance (deduction through esthetics), it was after a while quite easy to think how someone operating in a determined logic would consider this and that information. As they were quite intelligent people with some remarkable exceptions, I learned to appreciate their dry conception of reality. The very analysis though of these systems does quickly show extravagant weaknesses in certain parts of the defense structure, as if there were a superposition of old methodology with new, letting in between some blind points making attack extremely easy. My nature is horribly grateful. If I have amused myself for years to make up criss cross games in order to know whether this information would arrive here or there with the expected effect, I develop some kind of deepest devotion to the people who have been so subtly induced into error, and will unconsciously order my behaviour in order to alert of possible weaknesses in defense. My worrying is though usually misunderstood and considered as an attack, which has as a result that whole tons of accusations and aggressions are spill on my poor head, without me loosing the smile, as it was foreseeable.

After the goal is obtained (it’s strange isn’t it) I usually find another one, although I know that what I’ve done would make Sask extremely rich by the commercial exploitation of a system that does allow improving older structures without fundamentally having to start from zero. In a certain way, I’m still waiting for someone who may be intelligent enough to understand how much profit he/she may take from the wise exploitation of my own intelligence, as I don’t know how to do it myself. The thing is that I get angry if someone just wants to take away something without recognizing the source of inspiration and I put poisons and darts inside of my functioning that may drive mad the one who may try doing so.

In a certain way, my extremely deep understanding of how things work does not fit in common structures. Consequently I don’t know how to exploit it. I usually prefer not to give anything away if it is not accepted for the value it has and continue playing games, as a hobby, it is gracious and my fun. Which is to say, that Sask may earn a lot of money, if she decides herself to put her own profit before the supposed general interest.

But Sask is horribly jealous, and I don’t know how much I have the right to drive someone mad. It always depends on how strongly you’re able to bind someone, you may not blame others for what you are not yourself able to do.


November 14, 2006

“It’s while talking that I listen to your silence.”

The other to me

November 14, 2006

Another is for me never an isolated item. It is mostly a small ‘I’ unknown to himself, embedded in strong lines connecting to related groups or fields, as family, nation, professional environment, people appearing through liked things or hobbies. Thus, I do usually take it as a challenge to ‘conquer’ the environing world, keeping depend-on-situation distances in order to properly understand the ’I’ that is usually a shifting creature, by relating reactions to other fields or groups as they seem to be acting as logical cause. I do rarely impose my presence or even logic, because it may destabilize the relationship to the others, except if I think there may be real danger.

As a ‘poor lonesome cowboy’ I like people who have known to keep strong links to general bodies structuring a society as a whole. As my behaviour is though governed by aleatory logic, in the concrete meaning of the related meaning of thought or psychic disposition to an event, so that having put marks of ‘a’ (let’s say Russian) on someone, I do relate events to the possibility of appearance of ‘a’ or try to find the intuitive ways of finding ‘a’, my general behaviour does respect little of common behaviour assuring the existence of these boundaries, although I try not to disturb the environment, although this becomes difficult when I’m just making an interesting research.

I’m not the type who thinks that you should share activities with someone you love, although I usually get interested by what the other is doing (until I find … an interesting weak point or a possible development.) I don’t usually bother people with what I’m doing except if they show a determined interest. In fact I try to find a common principle determining both’s life while trying to keep as much distance as possible from the point of view of the ‘common’. The more difference there is, the more I feel specified as myself, and if finally there is something in common, I prefer the way of acquisition being clearly different. As I do play roles very often (shift of psychic types, which was necessary in order to understand the possible interpretation given to something by someone in order to evaluate possible reaction at difficult moments), I like seeing in front of me people who are very fixed somewhere, and become easily disturbed by ’quivering’ characters or tending to be to easily influenced or wanting to please psychic types.

In fact I understand the other as sharing some lines of something in a certain logical interaction which assures the maintenance of balances and stability, the other is able to properly integrate in an environment without having to care too much about me. My environment is as accidental as I keep distances to the other’s: to say that the virtual or aleatory did compose until now a very exciting home I didn’t want to leave.

I don’t tend to think that someone I love has to think the same way I do, nor do I intervene in things that have actually nothing to do with me, as long as this does not affect inner parameters that may bother my personal peace. My proofs do concern positions related to the realm of psychic life and I do always presume that the other does know how to make the difference between the one and the other. It is true that I don’t like the other talking about family and job and things like that excessively, except if it is to deal with theoretical problems, as I esteem that the very fact of listening may determine behaviour and thus influence things in an unhappy way. I usually think that main sorrows of work and family are to be carried in silence and if the other is attentive, he should be able to give an answer through his very behaviour, a research of balance that does oblige the other to think the proper thought in his own structures aiming at a solution.

On the other hand it is an evidence that I don’t like people who put everything in front and the affective relationship at the very end, as I think that affective stability should be the source that allows to enjoy work and the rest and warrant professional success, which is thus own to two, and not only to the egotistical exploitation of the other without recognizing it ever.

I do always leave a time for timing: to allow the other and myself to detect priorities and main values and adapt inside of given possibilities behaviour inside of that. If this is not done, the relationship fails because of an overweight on one of both.

Love tags 3

November 14, 2006

“Desire is the volume of tension.” 

“You are the depth of the ground I walk on, and you are just in front of me.”



That was a hard day today

November 15, 2006

There are always a lot of things to say, and though sometimes reality interferes with the normal development of our schedule, but this is exactly what reality is about. You can’t live dreaming that it will be as we have planned, as the plan should include the possibility of evaluating the effects and counter effects our plans may have on the next or far environment. This is why I never make too decisive plans, and my notions and concepts are nothing but jewels in the depth of my heart that I keep alive even when the world is drowning.

I suppose this is what makes it possible not to get angry. What makes us angry is something that does not fit in our plan (time) or order (space): if you consider that the world will stay there even if we disappear and takes little care of our destiny, you may see the attack on plan or order as a challenge that proves the validity of the thought that it is of need that you are where you are. To start wincing because nobody helps us or to get angry is of the cowards and the weak. Which does not mean we should not know how to claim.

If there is one thing I would ask from you, it is never to believe what others do say about me until you have made yourself an idea of how the principle works. This is impossible, certainly, in reality, but may still stay a wish.

Dear Natascha…

November 15, 2006

There will never be ways to prove my infinite gratitude and you now that what you wish is not in my hands. Even though, if I can ever do anything for you, you know I’m at your entire disposition.

Of course I had no answer ready when Sask discovered this piece of paper among the others.

Games and Sports

November 15, 2006

I was really fascinated by pinball, already when I was a child. At that time there were already little left, but the big machines with the many lights did always attract my attention. There were times where I would spend all my little money in pinball, and I could not conceive any bigger success than the one obtained by getting 2.000.000 points and a bottle of Cava that day, the end of December, when I was 19. The ability in calculating the where and how the ball arrived was a fascinating mind entertainment, even more so because it implied the coordination of physical movements with slightest appreciations of mind.

I would never forget pinball, even if I didn’t like French pinball very much (which were horribly expensive and in badly smelling cafés), but made it almost a profession to study computer pinball in Alekos cafeteria after having spent a lot of time breaking up the logics of the computer ’sinking ships’ version. I almost ruined Greece, as I could spend 7 hours on the computer having spent 50 cents (although Iota Ioupa thought it was hilarious, Alekos, her husband, wouldn’t think it extremely funny when the bill arrived, and finally managed not to be put into prison for debts saying that he had to give a percentage of the benefit to the lending company which had to pay for the rest.) As little Giannis and other hold for nothing side characters of society developed more or less the same ability than me, public games were finally forbidden in Greece for a long long time.

The question is that I studied computering by analyzing the supposed equivalence of natural movement with computer movement, and even managed to organize my reality in such a way that I could more or less know how a computer would understand a natural movement. After that I became friends with computers, but I have to say that my studies took me more than 8 months work.

In fact a game is nothing but a challenge for intelligence, if wisely dealt with.

When I was younger I used to play soccer, but I was not very good at it, although I liked it very much. I managed to be among Spanish first 10 in 4 different athletics (high  and distance jump, 400 m and 1500 m) in my age range (14). After I left because the stress was too high and something in the whole organization wouldn’t please me excessively. I played a little basket and a little volley. Then I went walking down to Santiago de Compostela from the Pyrenees and liked it so much, to get to know myself confronted to hunger and sweat and tiredness and exhaustion that I decided to go down walking to Jerusalem from Paris. In a certain way my life changed from then on. I would go walking from Ramses (Egypt) through Sina to Jerusalem again.

Then I went for a walk with my sheep every day. And played cards with my own, following Dostoyevskij’s ‘The gambler’s’ attempt to understand the inner logic of coincidence and luck. As Dostojevskij says clearly, only the one who betrays love in the depth of his heart may win all at once, to loose everything after. Although carefully avoiding such a circumstance, I thought it a brilliant challenge to manage to do both at the same time, and introduced the notion of “do as if” (you betrayed) into gambling in order to make visible that everything has its deepest reason to be. Strangely I have always been fascinated by marvel, of whatever kind. Marvels in the functioning mainly of logics and understandings, but also of those behind appearance and machines. And most of the people wouldn’t understand my even almost dying of hunger were it to get somewhere some burning bush was waiting for me. Thus, perhaps exactly because of that, the only way to share my marvel was to traduce marvel into what people would understand as marvel, and this was strangely very near to the gambler’s psychology. Would anyone understand the relationship between the one and the other? I protected myself with many ‘as if’ and ‘do as if’, in order not to betray my heart. In the meantime though, my heart had already betrayed me … twice… Psst. (Hearts are bad gamblers after all!)

I play cards sometimes, but it is more a psychological game, the art of silent conversation, than a real fight for the best place. I don’t like casinos at all, and even less to loose money gambling.

As I became far too old to continue my expeditions I started watching sports on tv. I adored soccer in Greece (kind of you see always what is behind Bayevitch’ being thrown out of his club, landing in Thessaloniki and giving a hard battle to allow the club’s survival against the first’s evident pressure) and Champion’s league (?). In France I used to watch tennis, mainly the French cup I liked very much. After I started studying the relationship between movement and thought, between logics and expression and came quickly to the conclusion that Zedine Zidane’s or Ronaldo’s movements were equivalent to high mathematics if seriously considered (at del Bosques time, Real Madrid had always the best players, and that was before Beckham arrived and del Bosque left for Turkey …).

I liked Russian gymnastics seen from that point of view, and ice skating: wherever intelligence was transformed into adequate movements and proper esthetics I could spend hours watching the results (You thus get easily into the SVR, Natascha, it’s not that surprising after all).

And I adore ping pong. Even heavy athletics (weight lifting). But I don’t like swimming (just the into the pool jumpers), and I never go to a game. If it happens that accidentally there is something on tv, I may watch, but I don’t program these things. I’ve never understood the meaning of cricket or American football, of hockey or other games, whose logic did not seem to fit too much into my understanding.

Ah, and I liked those quizz games very much, although I was quite bad at them. Everything is nothing but a question of logics, Sask … Well, no, I don’t think martial arts (we say in Spanish, kung fu and karate aso) are sports but wisdom. I spend quite a lot of time in deciphering the meaning of those moments and almost walked in dreams into a Taoist monastery … (There are many doors, Tchin Li, many many doors, every where.)


November 15, 2006

I’m always running away. Most of the times I find ways to make the other get so angry with me that I’m told to leave, letting the other in the chilly void of loneliness and despair, after a measured time, so that I’m sure I will not be found anymore. This is how I warrant to my consciousness a quite hypocritical fidelity. Which is to say, that I give importance to it, and even to the means to excuse such things to my own understanding.

I remarked this strange psychological feature of mine quite late and started thinking about it. In fact, in the depth of my heart (I concluded) I make depend security on love, and thus try to see how strong the boundaries are. As I hate imposition as much as the presumption that I have to do something, my whole behaviour is a somewhat Chinese-tortures resembling game to know how far I can go, or what another would do for me not to go that far. If the other doesn’t care, I loose the feeling of security and leave. And if the other does want to impose something on me, I get angry and leave, too.

It is true that I don’t consider fidelity as a physical reality but betrayal as an inner interaction that may have many aspects. Betrayal is the sudden disappearing of my name in the other’s awareness, the following of thoughts, suspicions, feelings that may tend to destroy the common feeling of belonging as I consider being the foundation of a relationship.

As my nature is a little strange and I see physically psychic movements, it is quite difficult to cheat me. If someone says than ‘no’ to a horrible evidence for me, that may not even have arrived to the other’s consciousness yet, either I get very angry, either I put a ironical smile indicating something like … ‘we’ll see’, in the worse of cases. This fact is the one that makes things become so difficult: people are used to have some kind of private sphere where they don’t even reach themselves but which is to a certain extent the warrant of their identity, and my almost absurd ability in deducing what may be the contents of this realm through very very small gestures and low tones, drives the other almost always to despair.

I love making Sask very nervous, it was my favourite game when I was in Greece and I never lost this almost perverted tendency to drive her mad in her presumptions. She really was the kind ‘wash my ex-husband’s clothes’ even after 13 years of almost unbearable psychic torture, just to keep her consciousness clear, and this (honestly yes, Sask, it made me laugh very much) inspired whole lots of wicked ideas in my mind in order to try to make her understood how ridiculous that was (no, grandma, she never understood), and as it didn’t give any results whatsoever (absolutely none, really desperating …) I figured out the Natasha hypothesis, where I translated the same vain feeling into long conversations with the other, so that Natasha got even drunk that day, without Sask being the slightest aware of such a fact. I said: See Sask, how ridiculous the situation has become, I have to tell you the truth in order for you to understand that your weakness opens all doors to the enemy (she’s horribly jealous, and if she had ever believed me she would have died of sadness one or two days after). Now, would you like that?

Her military mind had some problem to understand what the one may probably have to do with the other, as she really but really didn’t take any kind of pleasure in what she was doing while I really seemed to enjoy my conversations with Natasha. After a while I tried to explain to her that she was doing that because she thought it should be recognized by some imaginary society she was living in and did hardly exist, which though did not submit to her personal understanding of the world, so that she only felt a horrible tiredness, submitting to the stupid imposition of her ex husband’s understanding of concepts, which were hardly determined by anything but by his personal well being and nothing else, and that, if ever, Sask, I said: at least take the pleasure of the imaginary recognition of the burden by … having real fun with someone else (!)

She finished by giving in, in a certain way, but could not yet go through my strange ’flirting around with world’ fidelity concept which seem to hide too many dangers and possible pain. It’s an evidence that she decided to close me in somewhere where I could not escape, but that was rather not the solution, so that I escaped.

No, grandma, this is not facts. It’s just the virtual representation of how the one I’d love would look like …


November 16, 2006

That day I offered you with cherry filled chocolates or After Eight. Not because of anything else but because I like them myself. After having eaten 2 third of them all alone by myself, I decided that my effort was worth yours offering me a pull over you liked, I would wear every day to think of you.


November 16, 2006

I’d wish you would see the past as if I had always been there, even if this meant to do as if some things had never happened.


November 16, 2006

It was raining that day. When I stood up to take away the tears off you face behind the window, I couldn’t find you anymore. After, it started raining in my room.

November 16, 2006

I promise I just wanted to kiss you, she said long after dawn, that day when I decided to take the day off.

Why I fell in love at first glance

November 16, 2006

“Your uniform looked like a man keeping you warm inside.”

“You’re like a wave of immaterial light among the skyscrapers.”


November 16, 2006

“Your heart is a starfish taking its form from the stars above.”

“Your lips play the broken melody of an old tune.”

Twisted mind

November 16, 2006

“I had the sudden inspiration of going to find you. If you come in the meantime, can you prepare something to eat?”

Even if

November 16, 2006

When you are not there, I fall asleep with a teddy bear and it is still you.

Won’t get it!

November 16, 2006

My pleasure is your pleasure and your pleasure is your own.

November 16, 2006

Ms Wingsurf was told that a pornographic site was ravaging WordPress. Annoyed she immediately decided to have a look at it. Luckily she fell … on  a stats page.


November 16, 2006

I looked into the mirror and saw your eyes fixed on me.

Among family

November 16, 2006

“Dad, I’m thinking all time about lust and love affairs.” She said. “Was about time, kid,” he answered.


November 16, 2006

“There is nothing more erotic than an accidentally open left upper button.”


November 16, 2006

The only valuable thing I have is the knowledge of how to make love with you. This is why it is crypted hidden away under seven seals in a safe at home nobody would ever reach.

November 16, 2006

She used to think so little of me that I became the fx12 function on an Excel stats sheet…


November 16, 2006

“The people are your shadows falling on my environment.”

For you

November 16, 2006

I really felt extremely important and even more famous by seeing my name appearing everywhere in internet. As you give more importance to what the outer world sees than I can ever understand of how valuable this can be. (Even if it is rather misleading, to my understanding, but this is what love is about: to leave on the other the exact measure of your importance, independently of how real that may be for others.)


November 16, 2006

At the beginning she was an oyster. After, I called her ‘frog’, because of her amphibious nature. Then she became a ‘penguin’, as she started to make bows. Finally she was the oyster’s pearl whose authenticity became dissolved il a glass of champagne.

Quite distant

November 16, 2006

She knew so little about it, that she went to a doctor when she fell in love.


November 16, 2006

Sask put 13 people in her department to work on the possible link between a certain number of texts in and reality. Very serious little soldiers learned thus a whole lot about Athina Onassis, Semmelweiss, German prayers and other most interesting stuff, while the only one who arrived into could still not find the way of how to link the statements to reality. In the meantime Sask was studying the stats. After a while, and three or four days after, the soldier stood up and approached silently

Sask’s desk: “Officer, do you like After Eight chocolates?” Sask looked up, didn’t answer for a while and then said: “Perhaps.” The soldier sat back down and wrote on her paper: ”There is an obvious link to a relative to an officer reality.” (Without specifications.)

Strangely, that same day, her father had sent her After Eight chocolates even if it was not her birthday, after all. The only thing that came to her mind was: that statistically there was an extremely high recurrence in the interest for After Eight during the last 24 hours. (And forgot the subjective statement of: around herself.)


November 16, 2006

Love is stronger than censorship.

Factual remark

November 16, 2006

When I started to suspect it could be true you existed, I discovered the way to put you in front of the evidence.

State of fact: how you say I love you

November 16, 2006

The day you decided to put an end to my tempting and seducing invasions of formal territories through surreptitious allusions and indications to more material realities, I understood you loved me, too.

No, Sir

November 16, 2006

No, specifically this is not a love affair although some may have the right to think so, it is a structuring of coordinates that do regulate psychopathetic behaviour in what you may call the ‘vat-virus-type’, that does follow repressed lines in hr behaviour in order to guide itself through reality and reach his victims.

As there are little to understand so very sophisticated logics, I did take a perverted pleasure in dedicating it to the few who may understand what I’m talking about. Do never confuse private life with public life, Ms Wingsurf (even if you may do so): it is OF EVIDENCE that you don’t write real love letters through WordPress (it not being such a bad idea), as many may pick your ideas.

In the meantime it is not such a bad source of inspiration for others, who are still seeking pleasure among the brutes. (Well, it’s not because a psychopath uses lines of female homosexual repressed, that an officer is necessarily homosexual, or are you silly=?)


November 17, 2006

Sask says two things: first of all, that I should stop publishing all my magnificent results (she happily intervenes in order to distort evidence so that such a masterpiece does not get lost without being correctly rewarded — she means she would get three stars for it and 2 week’s holidays), and that I should stop revealing secrets of myself as it is evidently a dangerous exposure of oneself.

Now, for the first: if she really wants to put an order into such a mess she may take her stars even if I continue publishing what may seem real non sense for most of the people, as she’s probably the only one to have the categories to order all that. For the principle in theory I may help, although I will never get a star for anything (unlucky me!)

For the second, I do most gently ask if she really thinks anyone who doesn’t really know me would get the slightest hint on my private life as … obviously, the extremely complicated grammatical structures are of extremely difficult access, so that interpretation says more about the other than about me.

See an example: talking about presents and chocolates and pullovers, up to 97% of the people may think I’m a real egotistical character that does only think about myself. Now, precisely those: how many of those ‘exnipnoulides’ (little intelligences) would not expect a woman make love with them because they have done the effort of offering a … 1 USD cake. The real effort of the story is not thus to buy the chocolates but to transform a ‘common’ spirit into something else, that is worth … the pull over. Tell me, Sask, how many of your … pupils may have gone so far?

Consequently it is almost impossible to break the walls of appearance through so ‘honest and intimate’ texts. On the contrary, it makes walls grow so much that it is impossible to get through, precisely because the other jumps …to quickly into interpretation.

Thus, very much obedient to your indications, just let me know until tomorrow whether psychopath’s hunting is not a really good excuse in order to spend time scotched on WordPress. Oh yes, with changed IP!


November 17, 2006

She said making love was: testing system’s compatibility.

Could say thank you

November 17, 2006

Perhaps I’ve solved the main question. If I get into your system and determine what has exactly happened, I may have the bridging coordinates between the reality appearing in my world and the ‘common’ one’s.

The aleatory relationship between logical consequences and reality is one of the questions that bothered me most and probably the clue to the solution.

My description of Sask’s stats department is of course nothing but a ‘virtual representation’, some kind of picture of a logical consequence in a certain situation.

As Maya is in Bolivia at this very moment, it is difficult to imagine she’d really given such an answer. Now, I send her the address of sonjakastentoo yesterday and today I have one viewer more on my stats (The first was Ms Wingsurf who though immediately thought it was a personal affair and retired although quite bitten by curiosity … to say that there are still people caring about other people’s private life!).

It is possible to think that Maya knows really someone like Sask or related, and comes all alone by herself to the idea to ask whether she’d like After Eight, after all (Maya does always want to attract attention on herself and usually obtains quite rude reactions when she obviously makes missteps of all kinds). The answer should be reassuring for Maya: a quite sharp answer does simply remind her of the fact not to put personal questions (but are chocolates a personal question?). Maya sighs of hidden pleasure and thinks: She hasn’t really changed.

In the meantime David Kornik, who has put a permanent link to my page for unknown reasons (is a man and Israeli) gathers 12 admirers of my creations (among who the soldier put into prison of ‘Manual of a soldier’) around sonjakasten1.


I always promise too much

November 18, 2006

 If you were reading the stats, as she confirms bluntly by pingbacking stats day 17 or 12, Sask, then I know where more or less you are living now, which should help further in my integration attempt. Should make you a marriage proposal, dear, after what you’ve done for me!

Don’t ever think I forget anything although I have no time to do whatever seems so horribly easy while promising it. The thing is that your virtual name is giving me quite a headache as it is linked to deep psychopathetic interactions that are difficult to explain. In fact, the unconscious as such works a little bit like Google but is usually better categorized (say: what gets up to consciousness, what concerns outer reality or inner, etc).

So, you figure out a psychic mass, something like a sheet with woven letters on it. Some letters are in black like in Google, and linked to others that are also black, so that you can walk in diving depths simply by following the aleatory possibility someone making a similar research hitting possibly on one of the same ‘article’s’ references that appeared on the first. Thus, you may even turn so much around, so as to find back you first appearance or another you have put yourself as an aim. Let us say that the vital movements of a psychopath do order themselves in this logic. Thus, the use of ‘identity tags’.

Now, you and Natasha were something like one and the same in different versions, in some kind of symbiotic disorder with relatively little in common. (I don’t know where information comes from, this is why I was working at it.) I separate two ‘identities’, the one Russian and the other Israeli. To both appear related tags: polar bear, yurevna, lenko = natasha, shoona, helicopter, stats= Sask.

See how strangely in a google research on Shoona+Sask appear: a page on polar bears, another one on a diving centre in Egypt, some on an Israeli artist living in France with the same name, something related to a satellite and something to the lake and people of saskachewan. Is this ‘erratic’ appearance somehow linked to my mysterious tags, still confusing my polar bear Natasha with Sask or Shoona? Is there an accidental link between my ‘characters’ and reality or is there a direct relationship? I can’t still conclude to anything concrete.

After such premises, you may really be invaded by the desire of making of it a love affair: miracle does touch our heart much easier than our mind and is extremely romantic even if … I really don’t know how it has happened. To say perhaps that my concept of love may touch the borders and limits of the miraculous is quite certain. That such a strange thing does even happen, some kind of invitation. That it does not involve anyone else but my enchanted fantasy, evidence. Except if it seems seducing enough to … some one else. Who knows. Reality is full of surprises, even your name … which is a nick name. Now say, what is your name? I’d always answer that I speak no Hebrew …

I was really too proud of myself

November 17, 2006 Blog

Tag: My Pictures Of Myself

Here are the latest posts tagged with Programming



November 18, 2006

When she saw me happy because WordPress had arrived to 480.000 blogs, she said: “that I had created a WordPress nationalism…”

(No comment.)


November 18, 2006

Your eyes are diamonds refracting blue light among the seaweed.


November 18, 2006

You are much more physical than me, but your fingers touch my soul.


How to say I love you 2

November 18, 2006

I never say the truth, but I really love you.

November 18, 2006

“I miss you.”


November 18, 2006

She’s belongs to those who prefer thinking I’ve had a hundred lovers, in order to hide away her obvious desire of being the only one.


November 18, 2006

In order to avoid possible deriving psychosomatic illness, it is recommended not to repress even the suspicion of a desire.


November 18, 2006

Gift means poison in German!

To go with …

November 18, 2006

If you are a woman, I’d offer you Tuscany for men.

Geographical situation

November 18, 2006

I’m a palm tree in your chest, and you are the ocean below and the sky above.


November 20, 2006

The most romantic thing that ever came over her lips was: “that she had decided that she wanted me …” (and meant: the stats analysis!)

For sure

November 20, 2006

She said in such a convincing way that she didn’t know me, that … nobody believed her.

Just you

November 20, 2006

Informed of my Google exploit, she said that I had made the Camel Trophy available for computer engineers.Informed of my Google exploit, she said that I had made the Camel Trophy available for computer engineers.




  1. […] […]

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  3. […] about Live Cricket as of February 14, 2009 Category: Live Cricket Angels wishes – 02/14/2009 Sudden awareness November 13, 2006 It’s never too late, or […]

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