Life isn’t very dynamic, but at least I am being productive. There’s a few projects I currently spend my time on: ratetheperson.com (to be ‘officially released’ quite soon) and a few android games. I have still yet to try to sell the prints I made around a year ago. The possibility of trying to sell things in the Venice boardwalk is quite enticing… though distance becomes a problem in that case. Anyway, it is reminiscent of that dream in Ibiza…
The romantic situation ended up being more complex than it seemed. A lot of things were to blame on a third person, namely G-man. It would take some time to assess the real damage… and to forgive. Actually, sometime I will pour all those events into fiction -while trying to avoid becoming a Danielle Steel. I guess that I craved too blindly for something special… and I ended up adding her last name on my contact list…
Anyway, I can’t promise that I won’t become entangled again in the complexity of the emotions and expectations that infatuation brings. I guess that in this case I will link those events to “Emerald Forest and the Blackbird” -as those days I had been listening to it almost once a day.
The van’s health is degenerating. Yesterday, it started peeing fuel. That lady shouting “don’t start it” wasn’t deterring enough. Heat was a cause… after releasing the pressured air by loosing the fuel cap, it stopped leaking. At any rate, it is a bad sign…
I am afraid of the film “Synecdoche, New York” sharing some common things lately with my life. Accurate and too neurotic. I recently fell sleep while trying to watch it once again. It was fun making Zoran watch that film -well, trying to.
…that responds to cycles.
It is every couple of years when infatuation hits hard -and some parts of it are rationally inexplicable. What kind of details are the cause for those feelings? What is seen in the object of infatuation? I can describe some of those features, but not enough to explain why (she) is so special -and why thoughts about her keep coming back.
I can say that those feelings -while I reckon they aren’t exactly limerence- widely transcend sexual interest. But I can’t deny that sometimes they aren’t more than a fake compound of feelings that are searching for some stability out of need when there’s almost no attraction (that brings the word “homeopathy” to my mind). But both desperation and self-deception don’t stay long. When there’s a response to the attraction, self-deception is tested. When there’s not, the sadness (risen by the loss of hope) ends up fading.
The problem is when the latter stays for more than expected. I guess it is usually aggravated when the response to the attraction is not clear. Clear…
And it is worse when ‘the crush’ has been growing for months… and then you see a chance to put your cards on the table, but miscommunication rules the game.
It could be great if both persons had equal amounts of interest and the ability to manifest it openly- without fearing rejection. For that, the first step would be not to be afraid of rejection. Ironically, exposing your interest openly may be interpreted as desperation or neediness -neither of these features is very attractive.
But I think it is worth exposing your desires. Just giving the truth, without playing games- without smothering either. If we make it so complex in the beginning, how is it going to work? And if the other part has real interest, it should work. Unless there’s a real problem in the communication of expectations and feelings -in which case, it won’t be worth it either…
Anyway, it seems that in my case, there’s always too much disparity of feelings with the other one. Sometimes the other way around -but those times I don’t write about it.
Infatuation seems a damnation more than anything else.
PS: if translated to Spanish there would be a cut with quite an intension.
“Get out” -kept shouting the stupid bouncer of The Fox and the Hounds. His voice was irritatingly loud as if he thought that he was part of the military and the clients of the pub had the obligation of tolerating his offensive behaviour. He was, indeed, an uneducated douchebag.
The human interactions continued in the street, but not for long. It was time to get back and beat that Super Mario level that we were stuck on. Shawn was as drunk as everybody- but nobody had known him for more than five minutes… and he was going to become victim of the (slightly paranoid) suspicion that was going to rise afterwards.
After some absurd choreography involving “mushroom” poses and one-leg hops we bid farewell to Patricia, Lisbeth and Ana. The void they had left wasn’t to be filled by anybody else. A void parking spot.
So there we were, when I tried to prove (and I was somehow successful on that) that nobody chooses the shortest path to the apartment on the first try. And Kateryna tried, while Aldijana, Amadeo, Gagan, Shawn and I followed.
But she did a right turn that wasn’t right. That right turn opened a door- a door from where an intoxicaded female would appear. She, nude, with a porn star body, offering it explicitly. Hot. Very. Body. Not the face though.
She actually went for Shawn first. At some point Aldijana had started recording with her camera, as she did many times that night… so there’s a bunch of material there. Actually, that seemed the main reason for Layla -the presumably intoxicaded porn actress- entering my apartment after the refusal of Shawn. At that stage I felt that they were invading my personal space. I wasn’t scared (because everything seemed under control) but shocked… and dazzled by the sexual availability and explosivity that she showed. Rationally, there were many reasons not accept the offer: lack of familiarity, STD’s, et cetera. But the animal instincts contradicted that thoughts. Anyway, as I expressed afterwards, I would prefer to record an orgy with people that I know and appreciate than sex with an absolutely unknown -albeit hot- stranger. And I’m not even sure that I would be comfortable in the former either…
So we had that girl, trying to put some logic in what she was saying -trying to see if Aldijana “the Hot Mama” had recorded something. As an investigation technique she offered herself for recording additional footage. And Shawn was about to accept that offer bringing the cell phone out. But she declined, as she was just trying to get to know if there was a camera. That’s understandable as actresses have to be concerned about their image, and I didn’t she her signing a release. But it was her fault to be intoxicated and run nude, asking for sex, through the corridors. Anyway, no harm done.
After a few minutes of incoherent communication and lies about nationalities (minutes in which Gagan destroyed my anonymity pointing at me as the tenant of the apartment) she left. Gagan instilled more concerns about the situation by saying “I think you’ll be robbed soon”. At that point, I wasn’t very comfortable. Shawn entered the bathroom… Nikola’s bathroom. I was pissed because I didn’t want anybody to use that bathroom -as Nikola deserves the same respect that he shows.
Amadeo then said that he had seen Layla in the pub. Then, a lot of theories were thought of… the suspicions reached a paranoid level with the theory of that Shawn and Layla knew each other and everything had been staged with evil purposes. That theory was immediately deemed remote, but was an expression of the present uncomfortability. Actually, I know that travelling for so long had changed how reluctant of trusting anybody without a reason I was… though I don’t know the direction of the change.
It was then time to ask Shawn to get out. It wasn’t very cool to kick him out with the beer that I just opened for him… but well, I guess that it was late enough to justify such a thing. And he didn’t seem to fit very well in the plans for the rest of the night -he accidentally threw food in the floor when the plan was to accidentally spill beer and coke. Better safe and (slightly) sorry.
So we beated that level, and played our personal pictionary. The labyrinth of corridors of ArchView awaits, with many new adventures.
PS: Then I researched about that porn actress. Apparently she has a bunch of porn flicks… she’s… well… :/ !!!
Se va otro año más, tan extraño como otros muchos… estos dos últimos meses han sido poco productivos -supongo que puedo decir que estuvieron más dedicados al cómo aposentarse en esta ciudad… y a buscar una meta vital antes de que se acabe el tiempo.
En cualquier caso, fueron dos meses distraídos- entre otras cosas, por los diferentes ‘surfers’ que pasaron por casa… Neven [hk], Samantha [tw], Luisa & Arianna [it|ca]… también meses de un consumismo algo excesivo (léase G.A.S.).
Pocas proposiciones para el nuevo año: acercarse más a llevar una vida saludable, y empezar a hacer lo que vine a hacer.
– Do you play guitar?
– More or less…
– Which fret for the E?
– Ein? Open 1st and 6th.
(assuming a standard tuning, so it would be only in one of the guitars that I have)
– No, but as barre chords…
– Is on the fifth. F on the first, G on the third and A is on the fifth.
He seemed pretty content with his answer. More than to see if I really played guitar, I felt like he was trying to prove that I didn’t know something that he knew, reaffirming his knowledge. But I was considering that the question was incomplete, considering the different tunings and number of strings… in a 8 string with standard tuning, I would play the lowest A major chord starting on the third fret of the 8th string.
– I don’t know why you ask such a trivial question.
And it is… if he had been asking for the intervals on a mixolydian flat 6… well, at least it would have been more fun -though the reason for asking (‘testing’) would have remained as pointless.
It kind of reminded me of another guy asking “how much is 13 times 13”, trying to prove his skills answering his own simplistic questions… while I was startled at the possible reasons that made them ask those in the first place -and afterwards impressed by the satisfaction that answering their own trivial questions generated.
A guy with a wheelchair -let’s call him Rod Neck- gets out of the 7/11 at Studio City. When he’s trying to put his wheelchair in his pickup, another guy approaches him. Darker skin, smaller, wearing a kippah. Let’s call him Hashim Yiu. As he approaches Rod, his intentions aren’t shown clearly- but it doesn’t look like he wants to steal anything from Rod.
– Get off me! -says Rod.
– I was trying to help you, trying to help you -Hashim replies, with a strong Middle West accent.
– I don’t understand what the fuck you’re talking about. -Rod says.
At this point, we can say that the confrontation was clear. Both start insulting. The reader may decide know which dialog lines were said by the redneck or the jew. It is easy.
– Speak fucking english.
– Go back to your country. (I consider this one particularly easy, as most dumb rednecks have said it at least one hundred times in their lifes)
– I was trying to help you, %#*@! rat.
– Fucking muslim.
– I am Jewish. am going to fuck you.
– Now I’m going home.
So here are two possible explanations. I think the first one was the real one:
– Hashim Yiu wanted to help Rod Neck, but Rod is so afraid of anyone resembling Islam, that reacted as it was expected: fear drove the confrontation. Hashim felt offended when, what in his mind was a good deed, was rejected so explosively. Instead of ignoring Rod, he wanted to settle that he was just trying to help- And repeating that he was jewish, was a way to become normal (2% of the population).
– Hashim actually had bad intentions. (0.1% estimated chance)