Existance

Existance. Many people jump head first into living, generally lives of a certain amount of grandour, without ever bothering about the intricate logistics of .. existance.

Because, the purpose of Life is to live it as comfortably and luxuriously as possible, always reaching far beyond your grasp, but what is the purpose of existance? Why do WE exist? WE being us, with that particular hair colour, eye shape, bad tooth, pig-grunt laugh, very shameful secret imbalance of bodily parts that come in pairs..

Anything, excluding humanity, has its specific purpose of existance. Air for breathing, light for seeing, leaves for (no, not for photosynthesis and all that jazz) falling to the ground and fermenting and creating more healthy, growth-prone.. ground, pens for writing, pencils for peace of mind when writing, dogs for filling every where with tiny, highly irritating hairs, and for cuddling of course. And humans, for.. fun?

We have even stopped being dinosaur's multivitamin source of mangia mangia! And don't tell me that I exist to teach, given that I'm a teacher, because if I stop teaching.. I stop earning a living, and ruining/improving the destinity of future humanity, but I don't stop existing.

Well, try as you might, no considerable amout of grey matter activity leads to any plausable answer, or rather, conclusion. My belief is that we exist, nonetheless. It took a huge deal of (im)probability to get to this very particularly specificly precise genetic code, and we should keep that in mind.. there is only ever going to be one of us.. cloning technology permitting.. and while treasuring this thought, we should do our best to LIVE this existance.. not waste it. We should give ourselves a purpose, since we were so absolutely fortunate not to have been programmed with one.. possibly a purpose with some ..... PURPOSE.

cicra, the return

Super Cicra was back from her holiday in the Bahamas. Why the sojourn had prolonged itself to more than the stipulated 7-days, (precisely to 3 weeks and 2 days) was a mystery which Cicra was determined to keep to herself until death did her apart.

"You got lost" stated Le Mon as soon as she stepped into her bedroom.
He could almost see the shock waves radiating out of her nostrils, and the questionmarks and exclamation marks hanging in the air around her lightning-striken hairstyle.
" You left your map and your toiletpaper on your bed, and I really don't want to think what replaced the latter. And CNN reported an abonimable sand-woman on the islands. Didn't you notice the drastic lack of human life-forms?? "

"Well, there was this friendly ape-like guy, very little guy in there infact, I thought he was speaking Spanish! How on earth could I know he was speaking Monkey?? I know neither of the languages!"

"I want to be invisible!!"
"But Super Cicra, think before you decide. You have one last wish and you are going to waste it like the other two?! Can't you think of something better than a fake Louis Vitton purse, a red catsuit and being invisible?! Don't you want any money??"

The genie ended his plea with a sob. Some heros where not meant to think after all. He wished he was on the other side of the situation. He'd be at the Bahamas, smoking Cuban cigars and watching a regiment of brazillian brunettes sunbathing in no time. But, life was hard, and he had a living to earn, and so, with a flick of the finger Cicra was gone..

or rather, she was still there, but you could hardly notice her. There was just a very faint blur at the outline of her invisible self. The rest was, well, invisible. The genie was sucked back into the lamp, and Cicra was fast asleep in no time at all. As long as invisibilty didn't effect her eating and her sleeping, she yawned, she was quite ok with it.

7 o'clock.
Air-raides, very realistic bomb shells exploding, an ear scorching scream...
Cicra still snored. Not even this alarm had managed. It left the room in silence and went to search for a bottle of pills to swollow and end his life's greatest shame.

After a while Cicra decided it was the right temperature and atmospheric pressure to rise out of bed, and so she did, knocking over the lamp, the lamp- shade and shattering both with a nasty smash to the ground. When she had managed a safe return from the kitchen, having emtied half the contents of the fridge in her nuclear-bomb shelter stomach, she slipped into her uniform and lazily and of course, clumsily, glided out of the window.

She landed in class, and for the very first time managed to get to her desk without attracting the Professors attention. Then she turned round to Le Mon, who sat behind her, and asked for a mirror, but alas! he ignored her completely! She stood out of her chair, and ignoring the fact that the Professor wasn't screaming his head off at seeing her stand out of her place, finshed inside Le Mon's bag for the mirror. When she finally found it and looked into it...

It suddenly dawned on her that the events of the previous evening where not a dream! She was invisible! She was suddenly also aware of all the students in class racing, terrified, out of class. Of course.. all they had seen was Le Mon's bag suddenly opening and a mirror gliding out of his bag. In normal circumstances people would just have looked terrified at the knowledge of Le Mon carrying a mirror, today was a threat.

"Now let me see. How do I switch this off. She searched all over her body, in her smelly arm pits. for any button or lever or whatever would switch off invisibilty but to no avail. She was doomed to be invisible forever!

the candle corner

investing my patience in melting art..

tamarind on memories

Not so long ago..

...I was different. I was a different me. And there was one particular warm person, a sort of guide, or a hero, something of the sort. Today we spoke again, after two years, and that warm feeling of security came back.

I miss having someone in my life whom I trust completely. Someone who can give me all the security in the world with just a touch on the sholder. I remember him as determined, and wise. I remember his frown, his anger, and his angry pose. A friend whom I respect alot. A person who has a dream, and his struggling to make it real.

He has taught me alot about life through volleyball; how to stand on my own two feet for instance, or how to give everything without expecting anything back, and how friendship last beyond the test of time and age.

People say it is sad that memories fade away from our mind, and that pictures blur out. I say that memories don't fade, they just get transferred from the brain to the heart; and down there there is only space for feelings, and no pictures.

This person and the world he represents, and my life back then, are a special feeling in my heart, a heart that has been kicked around quite badly of lately. But the warm feeling remains and the crave to revisit it is every day growing stronger.

X-sel

time.. what a ruddy invention

I know exactly how the soldiers in the Troy horse's belly felt.. how delicious swearing at Helen tasted, and how painful your eyes start feeling after looking at the sky (or the horse's interior) for the nth term of eternity. Yes, it's my defect. I can't stand waiting, I just can't bear it. Why ever on Bogus' bald head should I wait when I did my very best to get there on time?!! And why should the other person feel offended when I comment about how tedious it was to wait?!!

Why I hate it so much? oh well, because I think it is completely disrespectful. Would take much less effort to just plainly state that "hey, I really couldnt care less about you."

I'd just say thanks and leave..NOT WAIT.. which is important. Time is not everyone's pet, planning ahead is not in everyone's brain power.

Ok, accidents happen. People can be late for a very valid reason, and that's fine by me. But waking-up-late is not a valid reason in my standards or in anyone's standards for that matter. And then don't blame me for having spent my time building up rage inside my stomach. At least I spent it on something.. YOU were wasting it!! For crying out loud!

Anyhow.. will you wait a bit while I go get myself a coffee? ..

Trust and Doubt

As the saying goes: "once bitten twice shy", and I am tempted to add on to that with "twice bitten, forever shy". How can I trust someone who bit me twice without the slightest thought going to a what-if-theres-a-third-coming-up? Doubt kills life. I am not sure whether what I see is truth or my fear manifesting itself. And sour dreams dont help. My mind has the very uncomfortable habit of dreaming my wildest fears, which somehow, don't seem all that wild and impossible when I wake up. The eternal conflict of trust vs doubt.. in the end probably none will win...

counting backwards

Yesterday was "il-gurnata nazzjonali tas-sewqan taht is-sorm" which translated in sensible english is "national day of people driving really close to your rear.. bumper". It was not a very pleasant day, especially when I had to drive down a really steep hill with no lights (pitch black.. spooky view from the rear view mirror..), with over 115 traffic signs (yes i counted them) and with lots of roundabouts and islands spread about like baubles on a christmas tree. I'm sure any sensible person (sensibility, like common sense.. is not so common) in their right minds and with their limbs at heart would understand my not exceeding the 60kmh. I had this very irritating conincidence of cars full of drunken idiots driving oh so very close. It was scary I tell you. No sudden braking allowed in such situations, unless, of course, you feel like a free flight (taxes included) to hospital. Anyhow, I escaped this experience unharmed and unharmed.. with a small tip: pressing the brake peddle very lightly doesnt slow down your car.. it just gives a heartattack to the moron driving a fart's distance away from your car .. *zmile*

vanity fair

just to try and change my profile photo to this one..

listen, big guy..

I am not kneeling. But probably I'm doing what people that knee do.. and it's not proposing. I'm going through what I used to hear about when I was in primary school. And at that point in time some warm feeling inside used to reassure me that, no, that was definitly something which I wouldn't go through. Now I'm older, and it's actually happening. What is most frustrating and frightening is that it's not happening to me. And it's horrible to see someone droop, and retreat, and give up, and grow old and fed up. It is so beyond me and so ugly. And it is so not fair. Helplessness is something I want away from my ME.
Please, let it all be ok, let something happen that makes all this worthwhile. Give him back his dignity..and a life. I'd be very glad to give him mine, just to see some spark back in that body. It's called balancing weights..
Ei man.

oh, her... well...

what would other people say about me..

Sh: she's nice, she's intelligent, and she's a wonder to talk to... when she gets the chance cioe
Mum: the oldest in age..the youngest at heart. And the softest and cudliest of the 3 sisters.
Dad: the one that owes me most money
Lula: the nerdiest sister on earth, but cares.. and a good taxi driver
Teftufa: the one that gets on my nerves most..lives in a world of her own
Fishing Rod: My curse..my blessing when I'm in a good mood. Thinks she's always right.. Zatat.. lives in a horrible road.. sapientona..rompi pal**..
Genisis: the stubbornest stubborn mule in universe. With the most ego-centric brute for company ever possible
Kiki: agrees with Genisis .. she needs to open her eyes and close her heart. But I trust she'll do the right thing in the end.

... to be continued/edited/deleted

Ċiċra woke up feeling like she had slept for months. She'd only been sleeping for a week, time enough for her superheroine battery to recharge completely. She walked slowly to the bathroom mirror to see the state of her own self after 7 days of awes0me relaxations and dreams.
"I need to start working more, and waste this energy more often.." she grumbled, barely understanding herself ( not a surprise after not having talked for so long).

Now you'd probably remember having glimpsed at the box of other super heros and reading that their battery runs low..and eventually out.. after approximately a month. Batman's and Superman's run out every other minute.. that's why we never actually get to see them around. In Ċiċra's case, this happened for the first time in 21 years, need I explain why?

Anyway, it was time for her to set off and see what remained of the world after such a lenghty break..eeqhemm..i mean.. absence. She walked over to the furthest side of the room and sprinted towards the window, and.. BAAANG!

"*&$*"(!_)("(€)_)().. I knew I had forgotten something! )"(_€)*(€*$(*€(*&(__)*@ "(notice the € sign featuring here..)

She opened the window, and again, sprint and ..OUT she was in the morning air. Her flying had not been effected by the small nap at all! It was still clumsy, jerky and very dangerous for people having baths on the opposite side of the continent.

Her trip was very brief indeed. Soon enough (and no one was expecting otherwise) she was clinging off a tree branch looking like she'd suddenly felt the urge to indulge in a very lively and aggressive lettuce. Then.. BLUM to the ground with a tump that had the Krakatoa burp a cloud of toxic lava fumes.

The thought of flying again didn't cross the very limited parking lot behind her forehead. So off she set with a nice, steady pace towards her assistant (who's name escaped her..) 's house.
"Hello you, I have a problem."
" Oh, err..good morning Ċiċra, how can I be of help?"
"My nose is sooo cold, I just can't get it warm!"
"Of course it's cold. Your nose would be cold even in summer 'cause by the time you manage to warm it up, it would be Winter again!"

..and she still didn't notice how strange his accent was...

Prada and me

the best thinking moments

..they were talking about her precious gem. The one she knew so well, and loved. And it felt so strange to hear someone else talking about him, critisizing him, failing to see what she saw. And she couldn't help but resist, and maybe she shouldn't have. She wanted to be there without him, but they brought him up. And all of a sudden it was like a train, at high speed and maximum momentum, and she was in it, but she was still..not moving.


... It was taken all away, ever since the beginning.

on the fingers of one hand

mmm, I was thinking today. Not that I didn't have anything better to do, but, I was thinking. Janice loves to use the word Princess... granted, since it's her profession; and well, I tried to make a list of all the people who made me feel like a princess in my life.

First and foremost there's my Nannu.
Many people seem to have had a special relationship with their grandparents. He was quiet, reseved and strict. But he had a soft spot for me. I was his gal. I still remeber the cosy feeling of his embrase. We used to spend endless hours playing Bella Donna, and Bella Donna halliela. And I know he always let me win. My mum says he was a chain smoker, but he never smoked in my presence. He was tall and sleak for his age. I came across some photos of when he was younger, the other day, and let me tell you, he was a real charmer. Nanna says he was a playboy before they got married; no wonder! His family was poor but nonetheless he studied and became a nurse, after being a bus driver for I don't know how long. I didn't go to see him when he was in hospital. I wouldn't have bared to have him look at me and not recognize me. I think of him almost every day. He is my guardian angel, I'm sure.

Well, now the other people who made me feel like a princess will look a bit dull compared to him, but anyway, they are all very special just the same.

There's Janice obviously. She makes me feel special.. even though we don't meet much she really keeps me on top of her lists all the time. We are oh so different but we actually celebrate this.. our friendship is, I would say: sizzling.

There's Dz.. I don't need to go into much detail here..given the elogju I wrote a few days ago. But yes, he does make me feel special.

Then there's another person. No need to mention his name but he was the one that inspired me to write this blog. He said something once, which I will remember for the rest of my life. Something you would say to someone you really think highly of. And well, I started thinking highly of this person ever since.

Now that's quite a long list of special people..

pillow case theory

Please submit anger management strategies here.. the more the merrier.. fast!

mondays

this is a list of the things that happened to me today..

1. Woke up at 7.30 and couldnt get back to sleep, until 8.55, 5mins before the alarm was set to wake me up

2. left early to pick il-Duka up, cause I'm too good, and when we finally got to university there were so many cars looking for parking that I had to drive back to S.Gwann, and park miles away.

3..this also meant that we got to lecture 15minutes late

4.. and on the way there I realized that all the liquid in my very carefully prepared salad had soaked into my bag..

5... ie.. everywhere was smelling like old socks.

6. after university..went to buy myself a lovely laminating machine. The road was disasterous. Had the shop been in the middle of a crator on the moon, it would have been easier to get there. Anyway..

7. Got back home, still happy with my new technology.. but alas! I found it has a missing stopper. So it's imbalanced..

8. In the middle of my swearing at the idiot who packed the laminator, my eyes focused on unauthorized movement on my desk. ANTS!! They decided to use my room as a bypass for the roof! Not a nice threat for someone who is not so comfortable in the company of insects

9. The intrusion required immediate action, so I got THE antpoison and starting climbing to place it in a strategic place. The strategic place required me to hang from the shelves, holding only with one hand and one leg. What was I doing with the other hand? I was hitting it really hard against one of the shelves..it is still aching.

and it is still early...

I hate mondays.

Salty stuff

I wasn't even going out. The weather was horrible and I was tired stiff, but something inside me wasn't going to rest until I got dressed and left for the bar.

Well, let me skip the nitty gritty and get to the nice stuff. Princess was amazing. I hadn't heard her sing for ages and ages and I had missed it. Her voice is like a bowl of cherries; bubbly and so natural.

The music was really good. I found myself keeping the beat instinctively. They've already got a groovy style. There is something mystical which binds them. It's unexplainable, but its there. A sort of aura, an aim.

Still, Princess was best..keep it up cherry ;)

malti

Inhasdet. Ma kienetx qeghda tistenna li jnizzluha minn gos-shab daqshekk hesrem. U il-hasda kibret x'hin ghajnejha iffukaw fuq wicc il-profs ftit centimetri il-boghod minn wiccha.
Jaqq; setghet tarha kull toqbda fejn qabel kien hemm tebgha tal-gilda. U setghet ixxomm ir-riha ta cafe` kark li probabli kien xorob ezatt qabel rehielha ghal dik is-siegha maghhom.
"Ghadek ma qomtx sinjorina, dologhdu? Ma hallewkx torqod billejl jaqaw? jew kellek x'taghmel?"
Sparhom il-mistoqsijiet. U ma kull wahda ghajnejh xeghlu iktar bil-pjacir hu u jara il-misthija iddelli fuq wiccha. Jew ghalmenu hekk haseb hu x'hin rahha tbaxxi rasa u tpoggi idha fuq halqha. Ried ihalli ftit sekondi biex igawdi il-figura li kien ghadu kif qata` qabel jikser is-silenzju. L-istudenti l-ohra kienu qeghdin jifluhom sew, l-ewwel lilu, issa bilwieqfa dritt dritt qisu xi general wara battalja kiefra imma rebbieha, u hi imgedsa fuq is-siggu, kwazi kwazi tistenniha se tinfaqa tibki dalwaqt.

Tista tahseb kif baqa` kulhadd x'hin flok lefqa ta` biki, instemet spluzjoni ta dak hierga minn taht dik l-id. Hi tefghet rasha lura tant kienet qawwijja id-dahka. U sa dan it-tant kulhadd kien ghadu iccassat. Il-profs biss, gismu bhal qisu inxtorob; fekruna kif thoss li riesaq xi ghadu, dahal go qoxortu minghajr qas biss tharrek.

"Ha naraw, ejja, share the joke, forsi nidhak jien ukoll la narak hierga l-barra mil-kamra."

Id-dahka bdiet tmajna bil-mod, sa ma spiccat fix-xejn. Imma fuq wiccha baqghet dik id-dbissima sarkastika, mimlija bl-ewforja tat-tpattija.

"Ma nafx min liktar fis-shab jien dolghodu; jekk hux min qed jiccassa ftit,.. jew min nesa` jilbez iz-zarbun!"

U ghajnejn kulhadd waqghu fuq il-papocc tas-sodda tal-profs; kulur kannella hamrani, mimli toqob u tentix!

"Sorry"
Vague sound of rain
pierces through my song again
but I get distracted by the way his toes move when he plays
so I let it burn

I just poured my heart out
there's bits of it on the floor
And I take what's left of it and rinse it under cold water
And call him up for more

And I say baby, yes I feel stupid to call you, but I'm lonely
And I don't think you meant it when you said you couldn't love me
And I thought maybe if I kissed the way you do, you'd feel it too
He said I'm sorry
so sorryI'm sorry
so sorry

He grabs my wrists
as my fingers turn into angry fists
and I whisper why can't you love me, I'll change for you
I'll play the part

And I say baby, so I feel stupid to call you, but I'm lonely
And I don't think you meant it when you said you couldn't love me
And I thought maybe if I kissed the way you do, you'd feel it too

He said I'm sorry
so sorry
I'm sorry
I am sorry