Adarol Call

I think that something might be wrong with me. No, not the usual: depression, anger, cluelessness. I can't seem to concentrate on anything, and what used to be a short attention span, is now in fact non existant. I sit down to write anything...be it an essay, an email, a random scribble, or even this, and i get bored after under 2 minutes. I physically have to force myself not to look away into the space, or at the pictures posted up behind me on my bedroom wall. I even re-arranged my room so that there are no pictures in front of me, so as to prevent "distraction". So, i've decided to go get tested for ADHD. For quite a while I was jokingly referring to my lack of patience for stupid people as a selective-ADD, but now i realise that it is possible i might actually have the real thing. I'm not that worried, just annoyed to have to admit to myself (and the rest of the world) that my brain hasn't been working properly for the past two years, and i just chose to ignore it, thinking that i'm just too stupid, and perhaps an impostor at lse. Looking back, i realise that i did and am doing quite well, considering how little reading i've managed to get done properly. So, in a sense, if i have the damn disorder, i might actually feel a little better about myself. Maybe i'm not a total failure afterall. But what if i'm merely excusing myself for not doing work? I don't know...it's all happening too quickly. I barely find the time to do the small, annoying everyday duties, let alone the tasks i really should be focusing on, like my dissertation, to name one.

My brain seems to be on an autopilot mode that has taken over, and now doesn't want to give the control back to me. Sometimes I go through an entire day as though i were hungover, or just braindead overall. I really wish i could have those thoughts i used to have before. I really wish i could converse with myself and have internal debates. But no, instead i spend hours facebooking (for those of you who are unaware of the newest fast-spreading procrastination virus, it's called Facebook, and no matter how hard you try to hide, it will find you soon), looking at my photos, checking random thins on the internet, walking around, etc, etc.

I'm sorry if i recently hung up on you because i got bored. I'm seeing the doctor tomorrow, i promise. Perhaps Adarol might not be such a stupid idea.

Silent Cry

Chills went shooting up my spine as i heard her say what she had to say about him. Ever since he walked out of seventh grade french class, slamming the door behind him and swearing never to come back again, I never heard of him again. I wanted to pick up the phone a few times and call, but you know what puberty can do to one's self esteem. So, in the end, I didn't realise how much time had passed and before i knew it, there she was, telling us that he now lives in Westbahnhof.

The thought of Max, my first major 'crush' (i hesitate to call him this, since my and probably every other 5-6-7th grade girls' devotion extended for years), decomposing somewhere in the corner of one of Vienna's least prestigious landmarks, namely the Westbahnhof (meaning the West Railway Station), sent knives through my heart. I have not experienced such grief and sorrow since a long enough time to forget how much someone can affect your life, in ways you would never have imagined.

She and I -at best some of the closest friends one could encounter, while at worst competitors for his attention- both stood still, each hearing the other's silent cry for him and for his life, as the girl told her story. She said that the last she saw of him and his brother was at Westbahnhof, clearly out of it (high on something or other that made them look frightening to the point that the girl didn't dare speak to them) , hanging beside a food vendor. Apparently that's where they live now. No one saw it coming. Not even their 'friends', who envied their heredatory gifts, or their admirers, who thought no evil could come out of someone so perfect.

I, a combination of a friend and an admirer, could not believe what she was saying. My friend and i looked at each other in disbelief and almost simulstanously suggested something stupid beyond imagination. But it had to be done. We got into her car and drove to the dreaded 'crime scene' (it can be called this because not a single day goes by without the police arresting at least one person for anything between stealing a banana and killing a man).

As we walked into the main hall (at 4am), i felt as though ghosts were all around us. The souls of those who no one cared enough to listen to were haunting us. All the junkie we saw had a look of desperation on their faces. It went beyond the mere need for a pick-up dose...it was still a cry for attention. All ages were represented in these decadent creatures that glided through the station, but it was striking as to how many people of my generation were there, wasting away. Every new shadow i saw made me wonder if it was him, but thankfully he never showed up. I don't know how i would have handled seeing him dying. Let's face it, if he's gotten this far, his journey's destination will no doubt take him further into the depths of dispair, which cannot pretend to be anything other than death. Perhaps not quickly enough, so that his spirit would tail the rest of his wretched existance. If only i knew how to help; how to get him out of his hell. I' so sorry i never heard your cry...please hear mine.

My sandwich

Ok, so having your food stolen isn't something that stops after you leave kindergarden, graduate elementary AND middle school, witness the day your fat sibling finally leaves home, or even when you move out of student dorms; it haunts you at work as well. Those finance bitches. Gah!

Yes, I am perfectly aware of the fact that I live in the same world as the kids in Biafra, but problems are to be understood relatively; I can't think in absolute terms about anything when I'm hungry- except an absolutely empty stomach. Hmmm...perhaps this is the single best way to understand absolute truth; by acting relatively. I wonder, does an aggregate sum of relatives add up to an absolute?

It's all natural

What can i say...it's not that i look for these situations, they seek me. It's in my blood; deal with it!!

Your Ideal Relationship is Polyamory

You want to have your cake... and everyone else's. Which isn't a bad thing, if everyone else gets to eat too! You're too much of a free spirit to be tied down by a traditional relationship. You think relationships should be open and free, with few restrictions.

What's Your Ideal Relationship?

Will this ever end? (via mahie)

I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.
I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.
I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.
We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.
I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.
I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had.
Iwish they could adopt me.I am one of the lucky ones, I guess.
I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.
I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.
We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.
I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.
I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.
I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.
I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.
I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.
I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I didn’t have to always deal with society hating me.
I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.
I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.

Please repost this if you believe homophobia is wrong.

Awesome Ad

Now this is inspiring!

Coincidence, ei?

Is there such a thing as "coincidence", or does such a phenomenon merely represent the inevitable crossing of lines? When it comes to people, i don't think that such a thing as coincidence exists. Why? Because communication is not coincidental; it's very much incidental, or calculated. People don't go out of their way to meet people just to say "hey, isn't it so bizarre that you know my sister's friends mom, who went to school with so-and-so's daughter?" Such 'coincidences' create or develop networks, which is how people interact and enlarge their circle of trust/contacts/etc. Seems logical, no? So next time you run into your ex's ex consider the possibility that it was not an accident, yet a simple inevitability.

But then again, are accidents inevitable? If perfection does not exist, then naturally screw-ups are acceptable, if not a given. I find this issue of accidents vs. incidents very intriguing...hmmm some food for thought there.

How good it was to hear your voice

I hadn't talked to you in weeks, months...perhaps even a year. Then in my drowsy state of existence yesterday i decided to pick up the phone and call you. Tis amusing how the concept of time and distance doesn't seem to affect some friendships what-so-ever, while a mere change of zip codes or a day away from some other people shifts worlds. All in all, i can't wait to see you...somehow it feels as though nothing has changed in the last 8 years, since you moved back home. Alright, yes- you're engaged (still?) and are on your way to yet another new destination in pursuit of a (what some people would call) impossibly practical-passionate career, and i'm on a completely different tangent- one that is trying to maintain a safe level of insanity, while keeping as much freedom as i desire (not necessarily equal to what the world is willing to give me) and gaining an education that will (hopefully) allow me to see more clearly. Now there are all just external factors, but what i'm hoping is that the natural internal evolution will permit us to pick up where we left of.

I hope so strongly that the "truth" is as promosing as i imagine it to be...and if not, then i hope even more that the illusion i might be living in will last for an eternity. Why wake up when dreaming allows you to live in paradise?