iPorn

Its not cute, sexy or erotic.
It is more than that - I know some say it is cheap and pornographic and awful, but I find it ...wow. What's with people and sex? Whenever someone says a video like that is just damn good, there are some that jump 78sm in the air, claming that person to be an addict. It is not obsession, it is what it is - but at least this way it is obvious!
(plus Daft Punk as a music background is so amazingly playful)

Totenähnlich

Rude Boy

Turn up the volume for a man so politically incorrect, that he's on a whole other level of offend-ism...

Soul comfort

Comptine D'un Autre Octobre

When was the last time you wrote a letter?
Remember letters? The primitive version of e-mails…
I love writing. Not typing. There is something so charming in a piece of paper lying in front of you. Something so inviting. Putting thoughts, feelings, anger and love, all bound into one, word by word, line by line, page by page. And even at the end, when your fingers get kinda tired from holding the pen and your writing gets ugly (because its page 13 and you still haven’t reached that stupid conclusion you started the whole thing because of), you feel good. There is one feeling that comes with the end of every letter – relief. Elaborating on your own thoughts, putting part on your personal self on a sheet and sending it to someone. To anyone.
I know I sound so ‘Thursday night’ nostalgic. But today I found a letter. A real one.
Four years ago I left the life I had loved and known so well and traveled the 1079km to the unknown. I was scared and excited, but most of all, I wanted to never leave what was most important for me – my friends. I made each of them write me a letter. A real one. A letter with whatever in it - a song lyrics, ‘screw you for leaving us!’, a recreation of a happy memory. They all did. And not because this is something that friends do anyways when you ask them. They did it, because they knew I’ll need these letters.
So true. I’ve used them to keep myself from melting in the worst of storms, to stay safe in my own wondering mind and to pursue my id that time and space can never bound a smile. Can an e-mail give you all that?
I’m old school. I’m even retro. But if I could, I would probably choose to handwrite this blog. Word by word, line by line, page by page. Just because I want you to have a piece of my sunshine. And because I’m so much better of a writer when I hold a pen…

P.S.
"This must be Thursday," said Arthur to himself, sinking low over his beer, "I never could get the hang of Thursdays."
Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams

Losing my religion

Love in a can

Art is not subjective. Whoever admires a single color on a canvas is merely phony. Art is passion. Art moves you. Art makes you wish your eyes were bigger, so that they can take it all in. Art does not provoke emotions, art creates them. If you have never spend 4h in a museum, walking in wet shoes, you don't love art. If you haven't spend evenings watching graffiti artists do their magic, you don't love art. If you haven't tried to understand that single color on canvas, because all said it's a masterpiece, you don't love art. If you believe art is kept in dry, secure places, you are wrong. Art is everywhere. Not behind glass covers and 'Please do not touch' signs. It surrounds us every single day.
The trick is for the art to find its true artist...

No matter who you are, no matter where you go in life

Three years ago...

Когато за поредна вечер седиш, взирайки се в монитора и се чудиш защо не си си легнала все още, при положение, че утре имаш лекции в 7, когато отваряш безразборно страници и четеш чужди истории, когато търсиш себе си в тези истории, когато чакаш дневния хороскоп да ти каже коя си, когато лягаш в легло, предвидено за двама съвсем сама, когато се усмихваш винаги, а не се смееш никога, когато миналото ти се струва по-истинско от настоящето... когато искаш да кажеш нещо, но нищо не звучи на място, когато искаш прегръдка, а получаваш потупване по рамото, когато искаш да пишеш, ала думите не те искат, когато една песен те кара да летиш, когато мразиш и обичаш, когато искаш да си в тялото на друг, но да останеш верен на себе си, когато не си вярваш, когато не се познаеш една сутрин в огледалото, когато докосваш един изгубен за теб свят всеки ден и искаш обратно този свят, тогава съзнаваш, че можеш повече. Когато очакваш някого или нещо, а нелепо получиш нещо друго, когато не искаш да си искрена, но искреността ти не е в контрола ти, когато трябва да бъдеш силна, а плачеш, когато ти се иска да заплачеш, но сълзите не идват....

Тогава разбираш, че ако не знаеш къде да започнеш, не означава, че не трябва да започваш!
Тогава... тогава е просто днес!