...on a steek

Star Spam

Aerosmith

What he was really thinking

Waves are calling

Today, I took a walk on the beach.

Since a few months I live quite near the sea and for some reason I hadn't gone there yet. I thought about doing so quite a few times, but it wasn't until today I really went.

I've always loved the beach and, more so, the sea. Since ancient times, the sea has meant freedom to many people. Some of the first human societies were sea-faring peoples. The sea brings food, prosperity and adventures.

Mankind's fascination with the sea is understandable. Weathering its many dangers, people can gain so much from the sea, despite the costs. She gives and she takes.

Some societies thought the sea was a godlike person. A god with a fish tail and a trident, or a powerful goddess. Perhaps that is why the sea attracts so many -- and also attracts me.

I am no sailer, no fisherman, and I don't think I ever will be. However, the sea is inviting and mesmerizing to me. I don't find her fair (not the North Sea, anyway) and she's often cold to me, but for some reason I feel a strong pull towards her. She's calling me, but I know not for what purpose.

Perhaps it is my sense of adventure, my need for freedom. When I am at the beach, all I want is the sound of crashing waves, the wind through my hair, and my eyes on the horizon. Moments like these, nothing else matters. A sense of the divine, perhaps -- or some form of "zen". Leave all earthly matters behind.

Eventually, of course, I must go back home. But always there remains a sense of wonder. Wondering at what the sea wants from me -- or perhaps wondering why I left her again. In my mind, her promise that she'll be waiting forever.

Every day, she sends her sea gulls to remind me of her.

Just a shame I don't like fish.

Over the border line

Borderline. A nice song by Madonna; a serious and tiring disorder for some people.

The sad part is that this "personality disorder" is not a grotesque, absurd thing that is entirely beyond other people's understanding; no, it is a disorder in which normal human emotions are magnified out of proportion. Everyone feels extreme emotions sometimes -- love, fear, anger -- but people with borderline do so every single waking moment. And they switch between the emotions instantly.

One moment a person is everything they've always wanted and more, and the next moment that same person is the devil incarnate and can't do anything right. This, of course, exhausts borderliners themselves, as well as their surroundings.

I feel great sympathy for people with borderline. Despite the fact that they sometimes drive me mad -- or, perhaps, because of it.

Right now, I am going through many emotions. Much like a borderliner, my emotions can change rapidly and are intense. I will not go into the situation that caused it (but don't be worried -- I'm fine, sort of) but what I feel is conflicting. I feel torn.

But unlike a borderliner, I often feel conflicting emotions at the same time. Anger, joy, love and repulsion -- it's all there. A paradox of feelings.

And I fear only time will tell which emotion will last the longest.

Hunt them down

I have no idea what this means, but it looks weird and amazing.

Crap

When you gotta go, you gotta go.

Today's random thoughts

New on this blog's menu: the random thoughts of the day. Which, as they are random, will probably be a non-daily occurrence.

On to the randomness.

* Trees and flowers should have human rights, too.

* Wiggling noses are cute. So are toes. Eyes are scary, though.

* Why is that in the dark, one can't see, while in the light, one can?

* Of all the things one should do, the easiest are the hardest to start doing.

* There is a 99.1% certainty that nobody's reading this. There is a 23.6% chance you are offended by it, though. Around 4.7% chance you will now boycott trade relations with me, my family and generally everyone who happened to live in a 200 kilometer radius from me. And then try to kill all of us.

* Randomness is overrated.

Who am I?

A seemingly simple question -- who am I?

One could say I am a guy called DragonFang to some and Nils to some others. One could say I am a friend, or a lover, or a son. One could state I am a psychologist, or a dreamer, or perhaps a nice guy. And one would be correct in all cases (I hope).

However, those descriptions do not define me.

There is something, beyond words, that defines my identity -- who I am, and nobody else is. Everyone feels it instinctively. The moment a child realizes its identity does not stretch out beyond itself -- their mommy and daddy do not know what it has done in their absence. The line between oneself and the outside world. The line that defines my being.

Nothing I do or am is unique; however, every person is unique. This is probably the individualist's paradox -- one doesn't want to be part of the crowd, but in doing so becomes a part of (another) crowd that wants to be unique. People try to define themselves based on what they are not, but achieve the opposite effect.

It is a paradox I can't escape from, and from it springs my question -- who am I? Am I a unique individual at all?

Interestingly, people in less individualistic societies (China, North-Korea, even Eastern Europe) define themselves exactly by referring to their social class. They are a farmer, or a businessman, or a mother. What makes them special is generally not what they think of.

Perhaps we are not as unique as we would like to believe. To paraphrase Tyler Durden, perhaps I am not a beautiful and unique snowflake, but I am merely the same decaying matter as everything else.

And only in death will I have a name -- on a fading tombstone, eroded and finally forgotten.

Goth is art

Like toy soldiers...

Or: how to dispose of your enemies with creativity.

You don't know the power...

Unleashed

(Click Standard to view in this screen)

Artsy partsy

Note: Not my art. Mine's better, of course.

The sound of change

(click on it)

Happy New Year!

The Matrix Philosophy

Day after christmas

A night out