December 16, 2009
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland is an old time classic. However, it does not only relate to your children, or grand children. It is not only a bedtime story. The magic in that book lies in its simplicity. It touches, without saying too much, or doing it in a complicated language. Reading the book provides the reader with the perfect escape from the reality. In times where everybody is serious, where people are bound to enter the “grown up’s” world, pretty early, Alice helps them escape. The book was written by Lewis Carroll, for entertainment of a favorite friend. Well, it sure entertains. As well as it conveys some very important messages, which only children truly know, and adults have already forgotten. “Everything is possible”, is the most important of them. The book truly proves that point. When leaving it the reader expects to see a talking rabbit or an evil queen, just around the corner. And he may as well, notice them this time. The magic adventure of Alice is much more interesting, given the fact that there would be a movie based on it staring Johnny Depp, pretty soon. Well, it would certainly be better to refresh your memory of Alice as a child, reading the lovely book, and then watch her as a grown up in the movie. .
Many people seem to believe that Alice has been created for entertaining purposes only. And so what? Even accepting that hypothesis, there is nothing bad of taking some time off our busy schedule, and entering a place where time does not exist. I believe that Alice can be read hundred times, and it would still have a different meaning. It depends what is your physical and mental condition, are you happy or dissatisfied, but no matter what it is certain that in the end you would be content and a little more cheerful.
The question which Alice raises “Who am I? “and is she the same person as this morning is also something to which people can relate to. I believe that Alice's Adventures in Wonderland teaches people individuality, a quality that is not very common nowadays. Alice cannot be commercialized, or copied. She is unique. As I believe everybody should be, and this does not depend on age or skin color. That makes the massage of the book universal.
The only thing left for you is to buy and read the book during the holidays. Or maybe give it as a present to a special friend? What better way to say :“I love you for who you are”, to your beloved people
November 29, 2009
It all started when she handed me the ticket: “Happy Birthday, dear!” said my best friend. Then I looked closer to see that it was not a real ticket, it was a birthday card. “We are going to Berlin”, said she, and I started wondering. Why Berlin? Why now? I didn’t know what to expect, I was rather skeptic even. “There is nothing much interesting to see there”, my father replied. Nobody prepared me that it would be one of my best trips. Maybe that is what made everything even more exiting.
Once we started the trip it was clear what our aim was: to see it all. To feel Berlin, while walking on the streets, to meet Germans, to eat their typical food, to explore the museums, and most importantly: to go to the MTV Europe Music Awards.
Well, we did all of the above, however, we were not prepared for an event that broadened our horizon, and made us a part of Berlin’s underground life. What happened there, in the strange building, in the non prestigious neighborhood, was probably the most defining experience in my trip. It was the culmination.
Everything began as a joke. I and my friend printed those visas___ from the internet. I found about the event by a chance while I was researching the various attractions in Berlin.
After looking for the address for half an hour, we found the strangely decorated building. It looked ordinary on the outside, but it was certainly different on the inside. The interior was filled with strangely dressed people. They were all waiting in a line, filling in their “visas”, just waiting to be granted a permission to enter. After giving 4 Euros each, an “officer”, dressed in a pink pajama escorted us to the next room.
It was a small rectangular room, with plain white walls, and white doors. The only colorful objects were on the people, who were standing with their backs to the wall. And all those people were so diverse, so interesting, so intriguing. I met a Hawaiian girl, a Canadian boy, a famous New York singer, and few French people. This did not happen in the white room though, nor in the next, or the next. I found myself waiting in different lines, in different rooms, for about two hours.
I was in an empty pool, in a changing room; I found a roller coaster, and boats, in this strange place.
I entered a party, a “Dream Land Party”. And I even received a passport, “Welcome to the “Land of Dreams” “, it was written. However, it also stated, “you may have entered your Dream Land a long time ago”, and this was probably very correct for me.
I may have been in Dream Land in Berlin, but I believe that I haven’t left it, and that I never will. I have been to a place where people had no restrictions. They did not have to comply with the society expectations. They were free to choose who they want to be. They were free to live up their dream, to dress differently, to act differently, and to feel differently. This event gave everybody a chance to escape from the reality, and to enter a place where everything was possible. A place so individual, and personal, and still shared with the others. A Dream Land, I entered Bibi Land, and nobody would take that away from me. Even though, the only thing left from that night is a vivid memory, I believe that it is one that won’t be forgotten.
That you are painfully slow to adjust
If only because
Yours is not that genre of story
Still and again, life cannot muster the stuff of movies
No bullets shattering glass
Instead fear sits patiently
Fear almost smiles when you finally see him
Though you have kept him waiting for thirty-three years
Ani Difranco - Parameters
Thirty three years go by and not once do you sense remorse. Not once do you regret it. Not once do you think of your poor sister. Of your “step” sister, who happened to have the needed shoe size.
Thirty three years go by, and you are still living in the castle. He is still right next to you, no longer desperate. The memory of Cinderella fades. Every year, a little by little, you wipe her out of his conscious. You support him; support him in his quest of forgetness.
You are a cold case lover, in a relationship based on nothing. In a fake, illusional relationship; while you are disillusioned. You no longer dream to be the princess. Not once do you regret the action; you are just not content with the result.
Thirty three years go by and he still does not love you, he even does not love her any more. Thirty three years, you killer. All this time, there was no punishment. The crime was secret, it was perfect. Every villain would use you as a teacher. And you? You became a lonely creature of the night. You thought there would be no consequences. You weren’t right, though, were you? What was the prize? The prize of a life lived in vain, of a life lived in darkness. So afraid of the suspicious eyes, you hid yourself in the castle.
What castle? It is no longer appealing. It is no longer welcoming, even though it is fabulous. A fabulous jail; a wonderful place to hide, to hide from the world. And still, you don’t regret it. Your hatred won over, but your heart was lost. Building carefully your dungeon, it is now your home. You welcome the night, and despise the sunlight. The sunlight is where you see her; her lightened face, her cheerful smile, her loving husband.
Thirty three years go by, and your mother is dead. Your father is away, and there is no one left. No one left to support you, to hug you.
Thirty three years of loneliness.
What now? You will switch on the light, and put your dress. You will put your shoe, yes the same one, which he put on your foot thirty three years ago. Because, you were there, in all the happy endings. While she, the real Cinderella, his true love, well she never existed, or at least not in any numbered list, or city counting. She was your sister, you sister of the night. Because she was you, before you entered the castle, and began indulging yourself in the fake parade of appearances, where you lost your sense.
Thirty three years go by, and she will never come back, she would never return. And you would never escape. You won’t, until you kill your two identities. For real, you and her, her and you, the powerful tandem, made up of ghost and a shadow. A shadow of a person, with the ghost of the past.
October 29, 2009
“My life is such a mess”, though she and big, crocodile tears started dropping on her cheeks. In this moment of desperation she felt so stuck, stuck in the miserable reality. She lived in a house, which she hated; with a family, with whom she was unable to talk; with a husband, who cheated on her. As she sat on her enormous, empty bed, she looked around. She lived in this lifeless room with her husband, Stefan. However, the room looked empty, and this made her even more upset. Their only common property did not resemble them at all. Everything was so well hidden. All her dirty clothes were in a little beg, which was placed carefully in her part of the wardrobe; as all the dirty and unpleasant family secrets were hidden carefully from all of their friends. At that moment of complete desperation Nina thought of Eleanor, which caused a smile on her beautiful face. Yes, Eleanor, her lovely little daughter, who was only three years old. She was now downstairs with her grandmother, Ralitsa, and was probably still upset from the recent fight. “Our little daughter”, reminded herself Nina, and the tears started dropping again.
“She should not suffer of my stupidity, she should have more opportunities, a different life”, mumbled she in the dark room. Then she started recalling all those small details from the past, which shaped her future.
She thought that she was from the lucky ones as a child. She was from Kurdjali, a small, beautiful town in Southern Bulgaria. Her parents were divorced but she didn’t mind, she was never that close to them anyway. Nina lived with her grandparents, another bonus. They just adored her and gave her everything she wanted. She lived in their old but charming house. It was neither too big nor too small. There were enough rooms for all of them: her grandmother, her grandfather, and her. She had the liveliest room in the house. It was all decorated with little pink hearts and a lot of mirrors. Her grandparents were not rich, but they were able to sustain a living standard in the small town. They even bough her piano, one marvelous black, old music instrument. As her grandmother was teaching her how to play, Nina found her little escape from the everyday life in the Beethoven sonnets. She had a step sister, a step father, even a step grandmother. Again she didn’t mind, she even felt affection towards her step-sister, she thought that Ani was very cute. Ani was seven years younger than her and she was so different. She wanted to study, while Nina still believed in the fairytales. She just kept on waiting for her prince Charming to arrive. Sadly, she had to find out that he never will.
Nina was never able to finish anything in her life. She dropped out of college; she was continuously leaving her jobs, one after the other, because she felt unappreciated. She didn’t have any long lasting relationships.
Nevertheless, she was truly happy. She was beautiful, so she constantly had boyfriends. She did not study, so she had time to concentrate on herself. As for her grandparents, they loved her so sincerely, that they were unable to see how their little girl was slowly turning into an irresponsible grown- up.
One day Stefan came into her life, and changed it utterly. He was everything she ever dreamed of: young, beautiful, charming. He was about two meters tall, with blond hair and blue eyes. She met him at the most extraordinary place: in the bank. She hardly ever went there, and she found out later that this was also the case for him. Nina wanted to open a bank account, and Stefan wanted to close his. That was his last visit in that bank, but it shifted his well arranged life completely. He noticed Nina’s beauty, as he walked into the room. But it was not until later that night that he had the chance to talk with her. They did not exchange a single word in the bank, but both of them noticed each other. Stefan was visiting a friend, who lived in Kurdjali. That same night, Stefan’s friend told him that he would introduce him to his best friend in one of the local pubs. No, it was not Nina. However, she was meeting her girlfriends at the exact same time, in the exact same pub. The rest is history.
Stefan was twenty-four years old, and she was twenty- two. He had one sister at Nina’s age. He was also a basketball player, a promising one. He played for the National basketball team. He was devoted to his training but he was fascinated by her beauty and natural intelligence. Moreover, he lived in Sofia, in the capital. Nina figured out that this would be her golden ticket; her magic pass, which would help her escape the provincial town. She was dreaming of the life in the big city, so adventurous, so inspiring.
Stephan included her in his life and explained to her all the small, but important details of their future together. He did this on their third date, as if he was in a rush. Nevertheless, she loved that future. He was creating an imaginary reality for the two of them. He promised her that they would buy themselves a small, lovely house. Just like the one of her grandparents. Stefan pictured it with three bedrooms: one for them, one for their future child, and one for all the possible guests they would have. “Our bedroom will have red sheets, and a huge, heart-shaped bed. Our child’s bedroom, on the other hand, would be designed according to the gender of the child. He described her, their future cars. “I would drive a black Mercedes”, he used to say, “and you, my little princess, a red Ferrari”. And he was full with promises.
“All those promises are now into ashes”, sadly whispered Nina in the night. She swallowed her tears and corrected her make-up. “The hysteria won’t bring me anywhere”, was her last thought. That she put the knife away from her heart, and into the drawer, where all the secrets were hidden, right next to Eleanor’s pink dress.
October 28, 2009
I believe that i share this passion with many of my friends, and most probably with complete strangers. So if you are one of them my list of favorite music-connected sites, and blogs, would be interesting for you. :)
1. Well, everybody knows Data, but ...
2. The next one is a blog that I visit every day : Ali's blog .. its simply amazing
3. If you are interested also in bulgarian songs, and some very cool facts and discussions, you can look at : G'fan's Blog :)
it's pretty cool
4. Well, those are my favorite ones :))
P.S. however, I'll give you one last one .. its not music, but its worth checking it out :P
Hope you enjoy them :)
October 7, 2009
However, my most vivid memory from
Nevertheless, I felt that the magic was only in my imagination. The
My dreams met the reality, but it was then that I understood. Yes,
What I really understood that day was that every feeling or emotion is just an imagination. There is no true love, or true romance. There are always ups and downs in our world of illusions. The important thing is to continue believing, that love exists. What better place to renew the power of my beliefs than
I thought more about it and found out that there is something about
So that was
September 16, 2009
This is for now :)