Мозги и глаза у баб.

Однажды в стране не очень отдалённой… Тут я плюнула на всё и опять начала писать про свои пережевания. Пережёванные и разжёванные. Больнючие и не очень. Вот, например про недавнюю сердечную болячку, очень интересной, мне одной. Так я мучилась всё лето до самого ноября, а теперь оглянувшись назад, и не понять, почему весь август не ела и лежала в на диване, смотрела в потолок. И не спалось и не елось, и слёзы наворачивались. А было из-за кого?! Просто смех разбирает, такой Ванька без оринтации. Слово не вытащишь, ни о чём понятия никакого. Мозги и глаза у баб не там растут, они растут между ног, не всегда, но иногда, – это точно!

WASTE YOUR VALENTINE’S DAY

hitler-valentine

or, how I feed my consumerist whoredom.

Actually I am celebrating my one year in wordpress.com blogging and bragging and moaning and complaining and swearing and being mean and dirty and THANK YOU LADIES AND GENTLEMEN FOR READING ME! I have written my second text on 13-02-2014 and have posted it on 14-02-2015.

Are you allergic to Valentine ’s Day? Then you can read the following down here text. Otherwise you will hate me for spoiling it.  Fortunately enough I am called Toxicana Cyber and I have rather thick skin. Or I imagine that I have thick skin.

You might remember your first Valentine card, – as a child you have an itchy thought  to which girl/boy to address a Valentine card,  – especially when it was a multiple choice, – then you have had a super itch. How would she/he/them react? Would you receive a card from your “obscur objet du désir”? You start to waste your time:  instead of just approaching straight forward your object of love, you scratch your heart.  As a result you learned how to wait for bloody special date to approach your maybe-to-become-your-future sweet heart forever or just express yourself. Spartan approach to love would be, – Μολών λαβέ! Come and get it!

When you are a child it is fun, easy going, in a form of game fest.  But when you are a teenager, the gates of hell are wide open. All the insecurities are hitting the top on this very day. Is s/he or is s/he not? In love. With you. Will s/he… send you this wonderful card with cute little hearts and angels on it. All your life concentrates on this piece of printed or self-made (how important for it to be self-made!!!) piece of  paper.  Luckily enough I rather skipped a lot of years of this itch, ‘cause I am from not existing country – CCCP  and we started to have this custom very last years of gymnasium. I don’t have a proper attachment to this date. Still my mind would cross some flashes, like: “We should do something special today with my mate, maybe, to go to Planetarium. We never went to Planetarium together.” Planetarium is here for the whole year and I am sure it has no special program for St. Valentine ’s day. Why to go? Even the program wants me to write it Valentine’s “Day”,  “D” upper case. So, it is The Day. Birthday is a bigger day for me, and no upper case, why?  It should be Birth Day.

And that is just ONE DAY per year. So what with the rest 364 days? As the pop culture states:  “FUCK VALENTINE’S DAY, – I LOVE YOU EVERYDAY!”, – mainly that announce males’ t-shirts. You would say, – a male is less romantic. I would say what could be more romantic to love every day? The female is traditionally more pragmatic, she has an urge to know for sure if she is loved. A paper with a stamp, pleaaase. Not to mention she craves for attention in form of (preferably expensive) gifts, – because SHE IS WORTH IT! Believe me, – in my early twenties I wanted the gifts and nothing else. Very consumerist  I am, he?  I am not, – I am an alien from another planet.

I quite accustomed how CORPORATION starts pushing slooowly on us all the Valentine’s “feeling”. The very special day for the very special lovers. It’s starts after the Christmas, with the first birds, – the movie trailers with a major theme St. Valentine in the cinema, then the special offers to travel for the special day (Secret escapes, sss), then at last the chocolate comes, all those hues of red, and hearts, hearts, angels, angels. It evaluates completely the meaning of love, the very core of it. At last you are just being bombed by whatever product : special edition, of’ ‘cause, or “special” price, according to your wallet. Your love is a treasure my little precious birdies, buy a treasure from us!  And music, music “My funny Valentine”, and movies, movies on all TV’s, and social networks full of the fluffiness.

Gifts’ n cards’ fever breaks me nerves. I can’t compose myself even when I see so-called progressive, avant-garde or “funny”, humorous little shits for a gift.

This year 14th of February is even more special, – (oh, my gosh 1402 2014!). Probably it is even more remarkable to get married this day, as the first Christians did, that why St. Valentine was executed on this day, for he was illegally marrying them. Listen to that, – executed (probably), the couples illegally married. What to be happy about on this date? That love is illegal? That some guy passed away on this day, perhaps went through a torture? Though it is not reliable the whole story about St. Valentine. He might even have been only a Martyr, not a Saint. In any case we should love and to be loved today. The rest of the year, – forget love!

The question is : why should I feed consumerist whoredom?  I have wasted enough of my energy, time on the whole procedure and ridiculously enough – I wasted a lot of love yes, love, you read it right ‘cause I am obliged to love or to show extensive love on this day that could last for couple of months in hibernation mode. My decision is to waste my Valentine’s day and to be critical about it.

Strangely enough my limb system whispers me, – I love you guys more than ever on this “the Day”! That reflects I am no better than the other mammals. And I overate chocolate, almost on the verge of nervous breakdown!

I have attached two samples of pop-art that I fished out today.

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Meshes from this Afternoon

         –   Do something more useful! You are chained to the screen like an Austrian soldier to a cannon during WWI, – the voice of my ex-partner G5 explodes in my head. Further would follow complaint that I am losing my precious time on all kind nonsense, all the groups and blogs and vlogs and twits, that I should be more constructive and write a book. He was humorous though labeling the topics of my constant blablabla “who is better man or woman”, or is it me now just imagining stuff? You never know, human memory is a tricky thing.

The past ruins in front of my eyes in multicolored kaleidoscopic pieces of a broken glass. As many times you shake kaleidoscope of the past, as many different interpretations of the same event you get. Mine kaleidoscope is in black and white lately.

 I blush remembering all the criticism I had received from G5 about my severe addiction to all kind of social nets. Now I have an answer for him, – it is better to be chained to a cannon than to a cannonball! Compare to a cannonball of the rest of my addictions and manias, – this chain is just peanuts. Less destructive but making my brain like a chewing gum of unknown content. The endless chewed by somebody for me nets, smets, smacks, chats, news, the photographs of cute kittens with nonsense titles, postcards, video clips, documentaries, reviews, you name it.

…and here I go!!! Finally I got it after so many years of expensive education and a lot of anticipation, or maybe of psychic constipation, – my very own useless blog. With a very noble purpose, – to write about what a beautiful morning it was today under fabulous blue Attica’s sky. Ha! I have managed to unchain myself only for 10 min to rush to the closest whatever-it-is to get my morning coffee, after 3 hours of being awake. And another 10 min to collect the dry laundry on the roof, I admit, it was under unbearably romantic silverish full moon. You live for those moments.

He was so right my ex-G5.  I am a slave of a keyboard and screen, full time. Even some years ago all my jobs were mainly here – wired. So my brain is meshes from this afternoon, something of the surrealistic avant-garde movie by Maya Derens “Meshes of the Afternoon”, aphorisms taken out of the context that I really dislike, – the aphorisms, – not M. Derens, random music, feministic pages and a lot more. You know that I am not alone in this trouble called “ON”.  Bit of this, bit of that and at the end of the day I am a perfect mish mash. I understood that I am a complete mish mash in my dream where the UN soldiers in shape of aliens, with moves of zombies from MJ clip, were fighting white Africans with the features of Negroid race but just white. And where?! In Somalia’s city where the buildings were in shape of Mayan pyramids.

Even two weeks of de-meshing (or unmeshing)  myself on a island in the mountains alone did not help. ‘Cause I was craving for my meshes. I was waiting for this very moment to be in this info-whirl.

Today I cheated myself to stay at home. Lucky me! My now-on G6 fell ill with angina, so the poor thing needs a treat. What a cow’s pie! He is sleeping the whole day, he does not need anybody! I just was craving to open a blog and it would take me a whole day. Plenty of questions, what language to write, mother language, second mother language, or pigeon English etc. In any case – my blog does not differ at the very core of it. It is a “selfie”. Distorted, full of egocentrism, self love, narcissism, through my kaleidoscopic screen filled with a lot of pain and dirt, sarcasm and beauty, sunsets and mountains, moonlight on the see that looks like a lake, nine Beaufor stormst, and hurricane force. Willkommen to my on the blade’s edge World!

 p.s. And, oh… I love you!

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