Cold turkey. Snap out of obsessions.
Thanksgiving is easier than thanksgetting.
Easier to love than be loved.
Easier to lend a shoulder, than to cry on one.
No one promised it would be easy though.
And we love the hard ways with a passion.
Easiness is overrated.
Easiness is often apparent,
and hardship often imagined.

Thanks for the Flood.

let go

Blog is dead.

Blogging is dead.

Personal blogs are stultified by social networks.

Professional blogs – by sites like Quora and the Stack Exchange family.

The only blogs that remain are not blogs anymore.

Blogs by form, not by substance.

They are sites for original content, powered by a blog CMS.

They do not redeem the blog, they further annihilate it.

21 first century blogging is the rage of Caliban, feeling utterly pointless and imagining a mirror.

За емиграцията. Nothing here

Върнах се на тази тема, прочитайки този постинг на Светла.  Написах дълъг коментар, който щях да илюстрирам с долната песен. После открих, че тя го казва много по-добре, и го изтрих. Ще добавя само няколко думи:

Открай време си мисля, че интелигентните хора в тази страна си изграждаме “пашкули” в средата си (приятели, работа, хобита), които ни помагат да оцеляваме, но същевременно намаляват остротата на възприятието ни към това което се случва. Правим си средата поносима, но забравяме, че тя всъщност не е такава. Съответно не заемаме активна позиция по проблемите, които сме избрали да не забелязваме, защото иначе не бихме ги понесли. Понякога обаче те са толкова остри, че пробиват тази защитна бариера, за хубаво и лошо…

И пак да кажа очевидното: Има хора, за които стимулът за емиграция (и за повечето неща които правят) не е финансов.

Приятно (и надявам се, внимателно) слушане:

Nothing here


I see the longing in your eyes
You always were the dreaming child
This house is old and torn apart
It holds no future, has no heart

The world is changing every day
But here they cling to their own ways
They taunt you with their cruel tongues
On you their callous jokes are hung

So much in you that I can sense
You hate them for their ignorance
I hate them for the ties that bind
Your freedom with their narrow minds

You’ll only suffer if you stay
These cold grey walls will have their way
I beg of you to free your mind
And leave this sinking ship behind

It’s in the past, they’ll always live
A crumbling future up ahead
And years of grief and bitter tears
I tell you that there’s nothing here

There’s nothing here, you don’t belong
You must escape while you’re still young
The path for you is bright and clear
I tell you boy there’s nothing here

The colours run so deep out there
Find joy to trade for this despair
Go seek the wonders of the stage
Of music and the printed page

This century is moving faster
Share the joke and hear the laughter
Find precious bodies for your bed
And chase the dreams inside your head

Knowledge waits for thirsty minds
Beyond these peasant Philistines
Whose world revolves around horse and cart
Who belch and jeer, and curse the odds

The time is now I beg of you
Cast off the old, embrace the new
Drink deep the life and love my son
And damn this house to kingdom come