Man in the Mirror

It's hard for me to talk about horses, as it is hard to speak about dogs or other animals. Sometimes I feel I can do that, but most of the time I find myself unable to utter anything about them - the living universe is so complex and so beautiful, that it'd be almost a sin to reduce it to words and to put those words in a conversation or type them on the screen. The experiences that I had with the animal world and with nature were bricks, not decorations - and what can you say about bricks?

The older I get, the more I realize I know very little about myself. I am most of the time ambiguous, contradictory and even antagonistic with my previous self (previous can sometimes mean 5 minutes ago). There are times when I am surprised by my own reactions or by my own thoughts and there are times when I think in one way and I react completely oppositely, for unclear reasons. For years and years I have been searching for the real me, and I kept on failing miserably. 

Oddly, there is one area where I am completely at peace with myself and with the universe, and this area is nature. Laid on the grass, tears can turn into a smile and war can make space for peace. In the urban, civilized world, I live mostly for others - and by this I do not mean that I'm some sort of an altruistic saint. I wish I were... but I know I am not. Still, I live in their eyes and their glaze bothers me. This is how we grow up - by looking at ourselves in the mirror given by our parents' eyes and trying to adjust ourselves accordingly. We sometimes fight and we sometimes follow, but we need to be seen. And when we are not, when our parents are too busy looking at themselves or at anything else, what follows is a lifetime of trying to avoid being invisible again. 

Sometimes I became an attention whore and I occupied all the space, because I felt I need to be seen, to be recognized, to be understood for what I am - and by looking at myself in the eyes of the other, to be finally able to see what and who I am. Sometimes I avoided others and tried to look deep down, and see how I look without a mirror, somehow like a blind man gets an image - by touching, by sensing, by imagining. By this time in life, I have seen all the pieces, but haven't built the puzzle yet.

Life happens in mysterious ways sometimes, so I ended up going for some pleasure horseback riding for the first time in my life. It was a late summer (or early autumn) of the North, with cool showers and shrinking days, when weather can wonderfully reward you one day and screw you the next one. It mattered not, because the riding was supposed to take place in a covered arena. And hence, I went... not very enthusiastic about it, but curious to meet the first horse in my life - a chestnut mare named Dija, with a blond mane and a star on her forehead. And on her back, I felt like I found my place in the universe and I am where I should be. No questions asked, just a bitter understanding of the fact that in this life I do not how to ride yet. But I returned the next day, and the next and then the next....

I came back home, to the warm autumn of the South and to a new horse. I'm not very constant in my actions or feelings, but I kept on riding and I was very determined to continue. Here, there... anywhere, that does not matter. What matters is to be again on the back of the horse and to that wonderful inner peace that I found there. And this time, my place was on the back of a bay horse named Tobacco. Unlike Dija, Tobacco was one hell of a mule - stubborn to death and biting every time he was given the opportunity to do this. And near Tobacco, I started to learn what a horse is and how to ride.

In a weird way, I found Tobacco was already in my heart, but I've never recognized him or known him to be there. Even weirder, I found him to be my mirror and reflect all my moods, my doubts, my stubbornness, my inability to express my emotions properly... my lack of trust and my own desire not to be ridden. There are no accidents in life, so I am thankful for having met him... thankful beyond words. Being with him gives me a mirror I never found in the eyes of humans or even in my dogs' eyes. Humans looked at me and judged me by their own standards and what I saw in their eyes was not me, but what they think of me. Humans have looked at me and tried to mold me into the shape they wanted me to be and all I saw in their eyes was how I fit the standards they set for me.

My dogs look at me, but they accept me unconditionally and their eyes have no mirror. Their eyes have love, and this is already more than one can ask for... but no mirrors there. Tobacco's eyes are the best mirror I ever found, which shows me for what I am. He asks for nothing, but to be also understood and accepted - and when he is not (unlike the dogs), he reacts. Intuitively, he knows my moods and reproduces them even before I realize what mood I am in. Beautiful or ugly, he reflects me and shows me my true heart and by this he gives me a peace I've never had before. With him, I know who I am, as seen in the eyes of an equal.

Time has passed since I first met Tobacco. There were days when I did not see him, because I was too preoccupied with daily life and I felt his absence dearly. There were other days when we went to the forest and we ran, his body and my mind in the same place. No words can match and describe this experience fully and properly.... it is just me and the horse and the gallop... the trees and their branches, the sounds of the forest and the wind blowing in your ears.... no memories and no worries for the future, no bad people or good people... no people at all, actually. Just the horse and I and the trees, the smell and the sound of nature and the extraordinary peace of mind that comes with all these. 

There are so many mirrors in our lives... we just need to find the one who shows us how we truly are and then decide what to do with that image. Knowledge is, in this case, the path to beauty - because once you know, you learn to accept you for who you are and you see that, in fact, you are beautiful. Mirror, mirror on the wall...

The Winter of Our Discontent

In the recent months, I have become pretty much interested in the elections from Belarus. In the last couple of days, I watched furiously how the recently born opposition pays the price for its own naivety and how, from the margins, people encourage an already dead action to continue and praise reckless actions, deeming them as brave. "Go, Belarus!" (meaning go on with the protests) and "Go away, Lukashenka" were slogans used by a handful of protesters and by other few enthusiasts. Sadly, Belarus is going in the same direction while Lukashenka is not going anywhere. 

In the last year, the relations with Russia went from bad to worse for comrade Lukashenka and the internal prices for oil offered to Belarus by Russia time ago were increased. For a country heavily dependent on the Russian resources of oil, Belarus cannot really support its current economy; the regime is based on a mutually beneficial contract signed with the voters - we do not restructure/privatize the economy, helping you, the voters, preserve a stable job and a stable income. From your side, we expect little - keep your vote and don't protest. Of course, this is hardly achievable with a young urban population which keeps an eye on the Western democracies and cares about 'vague' notions such as democracy, human right, freedom of speech and so on. However, fortunately for Lukashenka, this type of population is rather a minority in Belarus, a country with more than two thirds of the economy still under state control (and hence employing most of the active population).

Getting to the bottom of the sack and probably lacking the charm to be liked by Putin (who, unlike his predecessor, has no particular weakness for Lukashenka), the president of Belarus decided to try his luck with Europe. The gullible attitude of the European leaders is hard to be understood (and it should make the object of a different debate), but what is clear is that they jumped to support Lukashenka and hastily declared him as the last bastion holding Russia back and openly stated their support for the wolf wearing a sheep's skin. Well, in Sikorski's words it sounded a bit better - helping Belarus come back to Europe instead of applying sanctions for its dictatorial regime and pushing the country back to Russia's arms.

It was almost a summer of love between Belarus and the EU. While talking to Chavez about the oil discounts for Belarus, Lukashenka was also negotiating with the EU leaders about how to allocate extra funds for the nascent democracy of the last bastion against Russia. Publicly calling the Russian president and prime minister 'crooks' and 'thieves', the president decided to hold free and fair elections at the end of the year... and since Milinkevich has already worn out his popularity and a new set of presidential elections with Lukashenka and Milinkevich wouldn't have convinced anyone, the former decided to open the market for opposition.

In a country with virtually no practice of democracy, the opposition candidates are doomed to dilettantism; under conditions of limited freedom, their influence could not overgrow the already set position and, in the end of the day, Lukashenka still has the ideological and intelligence apparatuses at his disposal, if anything happens.  Hence, he decided to be generous and imitate democracy in a relatively convincing manner (at least convincing for the West, which promised the suddenly democratic leader to grant a EUR4bil aid if the elections are fair, as they promised to be at first glance anyway), allowing 9 other candidates to become the opposition for the presidential elections.

This is the key word - opposition. Carried away by the wave of democratic spring, the 9 candidates somehow forgot they are supposed to be just the opposition and not a real runner-up and they started to dream of replacing Lukashenka. Beginners in the politics, they still attracted an important number of voters and decided to actually put up a fight with the regime. Nekliaev suggested not to participate in the voting, Sannikov insisted that everything is a masquerade, the other candidates accused that the elections will be rigged and called the supporters on the street in the election evening. What happened from here on, is history still being written. To understand it, we need to take a closer look at Russia.

2010 began with Russia cutting the oil flow into the Belarus pipes, following a dispute over the prices/custom duties. A couple of days later, the oil supplies were resumed but the prices for Belarus grew. In May, Putin was announcing that the negotiations for signing the custom union between Russia, Belarus and Kazakhstan could not be finalized. However, in July, the treaty was signed but not yet ratified and the instruments to make it applicable not yet created; in December 2010, a few days before the elections, peace settled in the Russia – Belarus relations, all the documents for the Common Economic Space were created and a new oil treaty was signed, setting not the happiest but still good conditions for Belarus and providing Lukashenka enough funding for the future not to depend so much on the EU/IMF negotiations and money.

The election days came pretty soon and Lukashenka decided to shed the sheep skin off and to be himself one more time. In the evening meeting, the app. 10 thousand participant were led straight into the KGB trap and staged a so-called ‘hooliganism momentum’ which translated into a fast and merciless intervention of the riot police and into more than 600 people arrested. Europe met this with shock and awe and reacted a bit slow and uncertain. Postponing the discussions about what to do with Belarus for January shows that the European countries can still not believe they were fooled. If not more than a couple of months ago Mrs. Grybauskaite, the Lithuanian president, was openly praising the progress in democracy and stating the need for a closer relation between Belarus and the EU countries, on 21^st of December Mrs. Degutiene, the Head of the Lithuanian Parliament declared shortly: “Lithuania and Europe were too naïve”

One can only wonder if this is not Russia’s maneuver to make Lukashenka easier to be removed. Losing all the credit in the eyes of the Western states, which so eagerly welcomed his return to democracy, Lukashenka cannot turn other direction but East. Another game like the one that he recently played will not find a supporting audience in the West and Putin can easily make a move to remove the thorn from his Western rib. Another argument for the fact that what has recently happened is on Russia’s like is Medvedev public statement that the election from Belarus are the internal affairs of the country, while the CIS observers announced the voting process was done in accordance with the laws of the country.

The arrogance with which Lukashenka met the complaints of OSCE observers and the summons of the Western governments to release the hostages makes this hypothesis a not-so-incredible one. Moreover, it is not hard to imagine that the 17 political detainees threatened to be convicted under the Criminal Code of Belarus (carrying sentences from 3 to 15 yrs in prison) are used as a negotiation tool with the EU. Such a hypothesis is supported by the hesitations in the EU statements – if one day some voices condemn the violence used to end the protests, the next day the EU Commissioner for Expansion argues that the EU needs to continue the negotiations with the Belarus authorities, for the general development of the affairs.

Making a long story short, one might say that cards have been played well by Lukashenka, but the game is not over yet. However, what to expect now? It can be said that the unfolding of the events depends very much on the position of the players. Lukashenka’s determined and very aggressive action against the political opponents still has an irrational element. All these could have been done without the final statement, namely the arrest of the other candidates and the threat to long term detention for any political opponent.

From a counterfactual angle of analysis, however, Lukashenka’s actions make sense. On long term, his regime would have weaken if allowing an increased participation of other political forces and the EU funding is, unlike the rents extracted from the crude oil cheaply bought from Russia, conditional. Taking this direction would have led, eventually, to the change of the regime and Lukashenka does not want this. If there were any doubts about the character of his regime, now they should all disappear. His most recent choice, to defy the US/EU and to stress a rapprochement with Russia, is designed to preserve his position and his regime on at least medium term, regardless of the ways chosen to do this.

A few evenings before the elections I was talking about Lukashenka’s choices with a friend. We all knew the elections would be won by him (there was no doubt about this), but we felt that there are more ways to do this. Rationally, he could have simply allow the counter candidates to protest, disperse the action without the use of violence and present Europe with ‘free and fair elections’ in form, to which everybody would have agreed despite knowing that the voting was rigged. From the same perspective, he could have maintained the friendly relations with the EU and use Lithuania as a transshipping point for the crude oil coming from Venezuela, as well as benefit of the US aid to raise a nuclear power station, as it has been previously announced.

However, this would have been not only a reason of continued tension with Russia, but also detrimental on long term for his regime. The political opposition would have grown and eventually become strong enough to put pressure on the regime and, in the end, to replace the ‘batka’. Moreover, Lukashenka seems to be a true Slavic political figure and it is hard to believe he can accept criticism without holding grudge against his critics. Therefore, he decided to ‘make an example’ of those who opposed him; the KGB used its old ‘tried and true’ tactics and its agents from the crowd led the people straight into the Government building. Nekliaev, probably pretty much realizing that there will be provocations in the crowd, was beaten and prevented to participate to the meeting. Sannikov made some bold statements and announced the fall of the regime, probably following some ‘well-intended’ advices or information and the KGB agents started to break the windows.

Meant to look to the eyes of the Western state as a simple action designed to maintain the order, the intervention of the riot police and the reprisals following the evening of December 19^th were still too transparent to be interpreted as desired. However, nothing happens…

And what can happen? Lukashenka has as of now 19 persons kept in the KGB arrest, perfect tools for ‘strong-handed’ negotiations with the EU. Most probably, the scenario will unfold as following – after a couple of weeks of threats and continuous hunt (the KGB troops are still looking for those who escaped arrest in the evening of 19 and are hiding in various locations), Lukashenka will mercifully allow the detainees to be sentenced for a few months – one year (let’s not forget Kozulin), during which time he will tighten the grip. According to his plans, they should stop being a threat and his kindness to shorten their sentences will be appreciated by the West.

However, he forgets a couple of important things and he doesn’t seem to realize that his time is slowly but surely ending. The anger of the people from Belarus will last longer than the memory of some Western Foreign Offices. In a world of increasing interdependencies, he cannot last forever, against everyone. His credibility is dropping and he has too few friends – it is true that they are called Chavez (oil) or Ahmedinajad (perfect blackmail tool against the Americans), but they cannot help him if his own people get angry. And eventually, they will.

November rain

It's pretty windy outside and I can smell winter. While ago, you could smell it also... and funny, I just realized I never knew your favourite season. Of course I didn't, since I never asked... I owe you what I am today and yet, there are so many things I didn't ask, I didn't say. I mostly remember you old and I wish I knew more about you. But hell... you were for granted and you were supposed to be forever there. I had all the time in the world to talk to you, but not then - then I was young and exploring the world... there was never a time to talk, a time to listen. Looking back, I know so little about you as a person. I only now you as Matty, as my grandfather... I remember very few instances from the times I was a little girl, most of my memories are those of a teenager - rebellious, all-knowing and as assertive as possible... and in those moments I remember you the most: calm, supportive and never preventing me to explore - the world, myself, my limits.

I am what I am today because of you... because of how you raised me, because of what you taught me without words, but with love and tenderness. It's sad, however, that I never told you how much I love you... because I never realized it. It was there, but it never found the words and the moments to be said - and this is what I regret the most. I know you knew, but it still had to be told... so I am telling it now, hoping that somehow, somewhere, you are able to hear:

Happy birthday, Matty. I love you :)

Looking Back With Anger

Every time I come back home, I want to see my grandmother. Maybe there are not so many things we tell each other, but it's that feeling of 'being home' when I am near her. I know, things have changed and the places reversed... and now I am her shoulder... and it's sometimes heartbreaking to see this role-switch. But near her I have the same feeling (although in a different note) that I have when I am with my dogs - being with somebody who knows you for what you are and who loves you for what you are. No expectations to live up to... you are just loved for being yourself.

In the recent months, or maybe in the last year or so, I noticed her changing. She became grumpier, she whines all the time about everything and oh well... in a way she is too self centered to notice the world around, or sometimes even some common sense facts (such as the fact that nobody actually steals a pair of socks from you). The feeling of comfort was replaced with one of uneasiness... and powerlessness ... I look at her slowly decaying and it's nothing I can do to stop it. Time is mercilessly taking its toll and I am made to watch the massacre.

Her dog also got older and sicker, so I have to watch them both getting slowly closer to disappearing from my life. Together with my grandma, however, goes the only person that knows me and loves me since I was born... and my loneliness just increases. I look at her hands, with the fingers now twisted by age and I remember her stroking my hair, as a child... just as I remember my grandfather's hands petting my shoulders and telling me not to worry, because after a storm only good weather can come. Their hands made me what I am today, or at least what's good in me, and without their touch the world is an emptier place.

One can say that I have my parents, so I should not be that affected... old people die and this is the law of nature. It's true, but they WERE my parents... and I don't have a family of my own to compensate their loss. I will be left with my mother and ... oh well, this would be it. I can only smirk at this idea... if I am asked how is my mother, I generally shrug. I do not know what to say... and when it comes to her, I try not to blame her too hard. However, I was thinking lately that it's not fair... I save her image against my own sanity. How fair can this be?

I look back to my childhood and I see no love coming from her. Just weakness and irresponsibility to her own (undesired, in all honesty) offspring. And to her life, if we are at it, but this is not my problem. She stayed in a marriage of constant arguing and abuse... and fine, if she didn't care about herself I cannot blame her. But she seemed too blind to figure out that their marriage messed me up completely... and that once you have a child, this becomes your main responsibility. Both of my parents were actually too busy caring for themselves to notice they have some duties... and too preoccupied with their own dramas to be able to love anything  or anyone other than themselves.

For a long while I looked at this ironically and I talked about it with bitter cynicism. But lately... looking at myself, I can't do that anymore. I see my own insecurity, my lack of points of reference when it comes to defining what I want to do with my life... all those things that I needed to figure out by myself because they failed to provide me with... and I can only look back in anger.

Sometimes, being angry is what helps you move on. And as they say... what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. Who cares about the scars anyway?

Welcome to my jungle

They never told me this.. and I never believed it, but it is just a jungle. It is never about all those crap so nicely sold and packed as being 'characteristically human' - love, affection, respect. Fuck them, they are just raw material for selling cheap novels. In fact, it is a simple reality - a jungle of egos, caring for nothing but about themselves, never willing to stop just because you can't go on anymore. Die or get killed, kill or get eaten. In this big world of shit, nobody cares about anyone else. No mercy, no compassion, no second thoughts for the other. Stand up or fade away quickly and without trace. Do not bleed, do not run, growl louder than the other and do not hesitate to cut raw flesh and open wounds with your teeth and claws. And if anyone cares to join you, just break him apart piece by piece and eat him up, to feed your insatiable ego. Du bist was du isst... und ihr wisst was es ist.

The World is not Enough

I like to listen to people, I like to get to know their stories. I like to see new places and feel their pulse, meet their people, listen to their voices. I like music and the act of listening is the supreme way of understanding the universe. I hear the sounds, the words uttered or just the running water of the fountain and the world starts having a shape. I understand life through ideas, in a way that has very little to do with emotions - but I like to hear about them, I like to know them better at least through empathy... and I am able to sense them when they are explained to me, like a colour blind can be told about red. I know my own red, but I'm afraid sometimes I choose my world to be black and white, because it is simpler like this.

My favourite stories are the life stories and the history of one's relationships. Sometimes I am put in the position to have my own stories, and together with what I am told by others, I try to understand the world and the humans better ... and lately, I confess I feel a complete moron at this. Despite the fact that I reached 35, I still had, till recently at least, a sort of a naive perception of the world. I've always suspected biggest cynics to be idealists, who are just aware of their own fragility and of the fact that the world is not exactly as they feel, deep down inside their hearts, that it should be.

In this teenager-ish and yet cynical world of mine, I know there are lies and ugly truths, but I always thought they come out of accident rather than out of bad will, and that what we do is guided by both personal interest/desire and an underlying system of values and Weltanschauung. I found myself to be an optimist and to have high hopes for the people - regardless how and where they were in this life, I've always believed that there is a layer of good things in everyone and it just gets hidden sometimes. 

I never knew too well what to expect or ask from a relationship and, guided by this perception of fundamental goodness of the people, I've always thought that one way or another, things would settle down in a beneficial way for both of the partners involved. The cynical side suspected there might be, however, that people don't care much about the other but mostly about themselves, while the idealist side hoped that at least they consider the other important one when they take a decision or perform an action which affects them both. Well, given my last life experiences, I think we can bury the idealist, sparing her the humiliation of dying a slow, painful death, called 'facing the reality'. RIP, young Irina.

The more I listen to people and their loves and relations, the more I see even the cynical inside me left speechless sometimes. There seems to be something fundamentally wrong in the universe, wrong in a very moral and yet simple sense. All I see lately is lying, cheating, carelessness about everyone else but yourself (including about your own kids), reckless action, stupid covers and so on. And all these realities bring a moral self in me which I never expected to be there. The older I get, the more I believe in the idea of responsibility - well, I've always thought it's a very complicated and hard thing, so I did the best I could to avoid any form of becoming responsible for someone or too involved into something. However, when I ended up in this position, I tried to fulfill my duties as well as I could.

What did I run into lately - woman in her early 40s killing herself and leaving a one yr old son behind, because... guess what... because she doesn't feel pretty enough (weren't plastic surgeons a better idea, still?). Or woman in her 30s, with a 2 yo son who gets madly in love and decides it's more fun to get a lover than spend time with her son, who happens to be sick for a while (rent a porn and watch some soap opera?). Or man in his late 20s living a double life, spiced by some other zillions of random fucks, just because he needs to prove to himself that he is a man (check your pants?). Or man in his early 40s cheating on his girlfriend with the dentist and explaining that he wanted to get free dental work (in this case, I really have no comment since this is below the line of my known universe, but it leaves me in awe). Or man in his early 20s being moody and cruel to his a bit older, fragile and insecure girlfriend for the simple reason that 'he can' (how about finding a stronger opponent to prove your macho-ism?). Or... should I continue? Neah... it's already too sad even for the screen to be able to bear it without a scratch (self immolation, I believe)

The further life goes, the more I understand the importance of valuing the people who preserve some shade of humanity in them and to keep them when I run into one like this. And it's harder and harder to find them ... again, I feel like the last unicorn, more of a misfit than of a survivor. In a strange way, my curiosity vanishes and I am less and less interested in meeting new people... I've seen enough, I'd keep my eyes open maybe I see another unicorn but not run into the world to find them. Now I start making sense of how we become older and more cynical, bitter and tired... for how long can you keep a flame burning without oxygen? 

I almost never proofread and edit my posts and I'm not gonna start with this one... I know it's a bit unclear and incoherent, but this is because I simply do not know what to do but notice the fact and try to think something (anything) about it. I cannot, as of now, identify the problems and the causalities or suggest a possible answer. But I can say wholeheartedly that, in terms of quality, the world is NOT enough...

The Winner Takes It All

In the last year, I have changed a lot. Or at least that's what I feel... in a way, I feel I've grown up. I am still not much of an adult and I kept wondering, lately, what does adulthood mean? We all have definitions for this, mine is like 'finding answers'. There are many questions we all ask ourselves, some of them rather trivial and some of them deeply existential.

I like simple things and I hate big statements. I get goose bumps whenever I hear sentences which try to be existential statements... beginnings such as 'it is normal', 'it is good', 'it is bad' awaken the punk inside me and make me wanna grin and ask - 'says WHO?'. In this sense, I strongly believe in subjective values and individual definitions. Well... apparently my time has come to ask the existential questions and, when trying to provide them with simple (but personal) answers, I realized I am utterly lost, at least for half of the answer.... When we wonder about life, we answer based on our family model and on our personal experience. And if the latter I have plenty... I almost completely lack the former.

A couple of nights ago, I dreamt of my father... we were in a room and he wouldn't talk to me. I don't remember what was it all about, but I was right and he wouldn't want to acknowledge this. The room suddenly turned into Hell (yep, THAT Hell) and blood started to infiltrate into the room from all the corners of the walls. It was dark and I was calm, almost happy - finally, my father was in the place he belong to. In Hell.

For a long time I rejected the idea that our family of origin determines who we are and what we become... and I still do, but with one notice - our family of origin gives us a lot of indirect knowledge. We do not know directly, before we experience it in our own families which we later on build, what does it mean to have a family; all we know is what we had home. And from this point of view... I wish I was an orphan. There are not enough words and not enough good thoughts in this world to appreciate what my grandparents did for me, namely extracted me from that wasp nest which my family was.... but this is not my main point now. 

I learnt very little to nothing from my father. Our relation, if we can call it as such, was a troubled one and the main influence it had over me was to teach me to compete. He has a bad mouth and whenever he was  giving me some blurry discourse, I would look at him and think - one day, you will get it all back. From me, with interest.

Now, I changed my mind. I don't want to return him any of the favours. I actually hope that I will never see him again in this life and, if I am very lucky or I get myself a good karma (note to self - save some orphans from drowning if you get the chance) in none of my future lives. After one bad argument I decided it'd be a good time to stop pretending that he exists. Well... so far it worked wonders. Once his existence ceased (for me, he might still be alive), my own existence improved drastically. My inner peace was never again troubled by his existential dilemmas and dramas, I didn't have to pretend I like him or his new wife, I didn't have to listen to dumb life lessons or to smell the wine (after a life time of stuffing himself with alcohol, his smell changed and turned into a wine-like smell. I still hate wine).

Recently, I heard of him from some remote relative (first degree cousin but again... it doesn't look like you can cut the connections with only one member of the clan, so his entire branch of the family was erased as well from my present and future) and I realized he finally gave me a very important life lesson - one he never planned or intended to give, but he paradoxically succeeded to provide. That common relative said that he sold all his assets and entirely moved to his wife, where he decided to invest everything he gathered in 60 something years of life in her property. 

To somehow have it clear - I never expected anything from him. Once I got out of his door and closed it behind me, I knew there would be no future for me and him and I should not expect anything, not even a final succession act. I don't need his money and I am doing perfectly fine without him. So when I heard the news, I simply shrugged. It was to be expected. Later on, as I was caught in a traffic jam, I started to think about it, wondering what the hell was he thinking of but that it is his choice. The thought of 'you'll get it back from me, with interest' crossed my mind for like 3 seconds but then again I wiped it off. I'd rather have my peace than his money.

The next thought was - it's his choice, to erase his own life. And then, the idea hit me... There are people who are losers for ever. I've always believed that being a loser is a punctual matter, that one becomes a loser only under certain circumstances and that it is, basically, a reversible situation. One can always prove himself to be otherwise. And then again, I thought of my father, and I realized I am wrong - there are people who would end up as losers, by voluntary choice and there is such a moment when it is too late to change this. 

The thought of our own mortality becomes pretty clear after a certain age. You realize that life flies away too fast and that you have that inner need to submit your own candidacy for immortality. The older you get, the more you want to look behind and say - I achieved this or that, I am proud of myself for this or for that thing, I performed well, followed my dreams or plans, reached them and kept being active and strong. WRONG! Some people live never understanding yesterday and never really thinking about tomorrow. They play the victim and blame the circumstances for whatever they failed to do and they simply are too weak to try again. They are happy with losing but being able to complain about it and sometimes receiving some pity or some shallow petting on their shoulders - oh, poor you, what a victim you've been.

I look back at me and my father and think how hard I wanted to beat him down... but there was nothing there to be put down on its knees. He lost in every minute of his life, by not being able to build anything - a family, a child, a career. He is now retired and none of his former colleagues care whether he lives or he died some time ago. He is now old and the family where he spent almost 30 years of his life doesn't even make a phone call to ask him whether he is alive. He is now too old to have a child and the only one he had became too estranged to even think of him as a shadow of a parent. He didn't place a bet and he never played... just got carried away by life and didn't have the strength to play any of the rounds. He lost by presence, not by absence.

Now, in this last act of the drama, I find it amusing how he decided to voluntarily wipe off his own life and withdraw his candidacy to immortality. And by this, he finally taught me one thing... Cancelling his own life because of too much ego, wrongly directed, and because of too little will power to stand and even decide what he wants or not, he showed me that there is a time when it is too late, when you cannot revert. There is a moment in which you lost it all, if you ever had anything.

So... thank you, daddy. I won our long term match, so I mercifully give you what is yours - pity. Sorry, old man. You lost.

Jonathan Livingston Seagull - The Odyssey

Somebody told me this is who I am... so here is the story

Just Take a Look at Me Now

When I saw her I knew it wouldn't last for long. She looked too used to being on her own to stick around for too much... and I wasn't sure what to do about her also. Somebody called me to show her to me and we looked at each other for a short while. She was young and common and she looked like she was waiting for someone. Which she wasn't, it was just a search for food and somebody from inside got out to bring her a cookie. She ate it and she looked ahead, like thinking where to go - straight ahead, or turn back. I gave her a pack of food and she ate it in a hurry. She was not that thin, but neither too well fed - it was an unexpected good meal and she took advantage of it, hurrying up before the offer ends. 

I tried to put my belt as a collar and take her upstairs. I had no plans for her, but didn't think I could leave her down there, all alone. She got scared and she pulled off her head from the improvised collar and ran a few meters away. She stopped and she looked back straight at me.

It was not hate, neither it was fear. It was just mistrust, in its purest form. I saw her eyes and I knew I looked like she was, now, at other people and then just went away. She didn't need me and she didn't want me. Life for her is hard, but she can't trust and she doesn't want to. Probably she can't even dream of a soft pillow and of a warm home, which she never had and never will. I can...

Some wonder why I love stray dogs. It's simple - I am one of them. I do not make them humans neither I see myself as a dog - I just see that we are so much alike that it's hard to think of. Just like her, the anonymous stray dog I fed today, I walk in the world and I am all on my own. I sometimes look at the clouds and there is this desperate hope that there is somebody bigger than me who cares. And I just need a sign that somebody is looking at me now ... which never comes, and I just know that I am all alone.

This is sometimes a very overwhelming feeling... It's pointless to try to describe it, but it's the blank feeling of being totally and utterly alone. I know... generations have been preoccupied with this and they came up with gods and then with God and blablabla. But I am not religious - I lack the ability to have faith without reasoning and to trust someone who doesn't seem to be there... so I look at the world like that dog looked at me today. Me and her are the same, two unknown shadows passing on the streets of a city, whichever city might that be... sometimes having the luck of a good meal just to keep on walking. 

Footsteps don't get imprinted in the asphalt. Nobody will ever know I was there, she was there ... and we just kept walking.

In meinem Leben