In the rain – soaking my clothes

I like to think of the posts I make as in-promptu, as a thing of the moment, but usually I have a clear idea what I want to say, from beginning to end, even if I dont know the how. This is not that kind of post. As soon as I got to the bus station I started writing this.

Look at the picture. Thats me, my outfit of the day. Anything wrong? Maybe you dont like it? Thats fine, really it is, that not what this post is about. Try hard and give reasons as to why those clothes would be reasons enough so that a piece of garbage follows me in the street to say some nasty things.
It’s 13:48 and I leave uni. I am walking to the bus today courtesy of a proffessor who cannot calculate his time suitably and I leave my classroom with an hour left for the next bus. I cross the bridge that gives access to our uni and stop to pull my thighs up. My pitch black, no see-through thighs, my almost pants thighs. And I continue my way to the station.
I’ve noticed a young guyvqith his bike sitting across where I stopped but thought nothing of it. He was dressed in my city’s football club gear and looks as anyone in this city.
At some point along my way while I am shipping on my juice he comes behind me and says something about my legs and my ass that I am trying to forget as quickly as I can. May I refer to the picture above again please? Well apparently it was temptation enough for a young man to grab his bike and follow me to a close distance and say all the things that should never be said to an unknown person, in the middle of the street, making they feel extremely uncomfortable and as usually happens, having to look away as a means of protection (maybe if i show no interest they will leave). Apparently my outfit was not only worth the persecution but also a turning around in the first corner and passing beside me, this time quietly, again.
I need not say what this is, I need not qualify it. I need this to stop.

Floure

In the rain – Too dark to see the drops

Hello there…

… I think I am back. Maybe.

It has been an awful amount of time since I last wrote anything here. Damn me. But I am back for a while and with new hopes and illusion, though no ideas on how to translate those into posts. So patience is required my friends, or click unfollow. Please do not. 

So, first I have few things to say.

1) I can now confirm what multiple times suggested in this blog: I will be a semi-permanent individual in the USA for a little under two years. I have been accepted in the Graduate School of a university that for safety reasons I probably should not mention but that I cannot promise that you will not get to know by other means or hints in oncoming posts. Also I will be something that is unknown for is inexistent in my country yet very interesting and also daunting, a Teaching Assistant.

1.5) If you want to know about that in future posts, hey just say it!

2) I am sometimes terrified, sometimes excited, sometimes overwhelmed, sometimes fed up with the prospects of becoming a semi-permanent individual in the USA.

3) Fuck you burocracy.

4) Life is still hectic and I still cannot cope with it.

5) I am about to graduate and I honestly can’t wait. I will miss the people though.

6) My eyes are open, I can see, but can I act?

7) Final remark: keep your voice and use it. Say whatever you need, as loud or quiet you may want it to be, say, talk, speak, do it.

One day you might find yourself in the middle of a fist of agonizing cries that will mute your voice. And by the time you are done crying, a deathly weakness upon your bones will trap your voice in the depths of your silence.

8) I almost wrote your instead of you’re. I want to cry…

9) I discovered hockey. I am an expert of hockey now.

10) Bye

Bye!

Respect me, will you_ In the rain on a day when my smile fade away

I said NO.
Surprinsingly enough this is not about male/female gross behaviour but about people who do not respect my decissions nor the reasons behind it.
As a result, I forcefully comply, they are happy and I feel terrible and fundamentaly embarrased. The result is only consequence of they not taking my no when there was a solution.

Floure

Better than silence – In the rain on a day when it poured down on me

Pluuff!!
Loud the chair hit the floor. And so did I. My legs were unnaturaly facing north, chest up and down as it struggled to breath in the sock, pain and embarrasment. This was one of those things were if it is going to happen, is going to be in a crowded place, like now, and as noticeably as possible, like now.
I stayed there waiting for a helping hand, a soul crashing reaction or for me to be effectively swallowed, along with my chair of course, by the artificial ground. But none of it happened. Just silence. Many stares and silence.

Yay, I’m back!!! I just finished an exam and it wasn’t good may sweet lord Wordsworth forgive me for incorrectly analysing his poem and so I needed to cheer up.
I woke up this morning to a weirdly quiet house and thought about how awful it is when you fall or do something embarrasing in front of everyone (like showing up naked 😍) and wondered if there is anything more painful than the laughs that follow. Silence. I think silence is worst than any word. When someone ignores you, when you cry and there are no worths of comfort, when something happens and you get no explanations, when you say i love you and you don’t get an i live you too, when you are trying to reach that person but you cannot anymore. Gosh, let me laugh noisily, soundly, dramatically, extravagantly, embarrasingly, obnoxiously. Let me laugh and kill silence.

Floure

In the rain – On a day were snow was forcasted but it hailed

I suppose it’s time for another episode of “in the rain”, more if so is taken into account how crappy was the last one.

I am laying on my bed, after a morning of reading and too much to eat. Christmas happened few days ago and it is official, they do not interest me anymore. It is nice to get presents but that’s where I put the full stop. However, these days there are too many posts on how ridiculous Christmas are and how no one enjoys it, how gathering with the family is so hard and depressing (that is not my problem at all), and so on and on and on, that really it became a true exercise of self-pity and pseudo-anarchism that I am not interested in the slightest. All I say is for none of the reasons above but for many others that require a painful introspection within the depth of my soul that I am not willing to do not now, not in the forseeable future, I don’t like Christmas all that much.
Apart from that, I study or write papers. It came to a point that I am starting to think if a masters is a good idea. If you have been following this blog, which I doubt taking into account the amount of comments and likes I get, you might have deduced that that is what it is in store for me and that I am planning to do it in the USA. Though I love learning, exams and deadlines literaly kill me. I am quite happy reading, thinking and researching, but time is needed for that or this beautiful thingy called time management which I absolute lack of and all I think is that I want to stop to be this kind of passive and get work active.
Yet, passive is my moto. Passivitation for me does not refer to sentence construction anymore but to my living performance, gosh I am passively lazy. So i guess that one way or another, this is still a post about self pity and pseudo-anarchism, ups!

Floure

On a october almost november day -in the rain

The day begins with an self-induced feeling of time control. I tell myself, over and over, that sleeping to the next dreadful good mooooorning of my alarm is ok, that nothing will happen, that I can do this, I can sleep till I can’t sleep no more. And indeed, I sleep until the time is my enemy and in victorious punishment forces me to run, run to cath the bus.
But I get there, because me being out of shape and having an ashma attack that almost makes me puke my lungs out will not stop me, not me! And I find women in an overcrowded stop. Many women, few men and some kids (that soon I find out that they happen to go to my uni but who cares, I say they are kids and so they are). And we queu in unorderly form, and I position myself on the first line of the grid but at the last minute a lady takes me by surprise and overtakes me from the left leaving me out of the podium #SadMe. Though it doesn’t matter because from yesterday to who-knows-when there is a bus strike and not me nor her nor the rest of 40,000 people in the bus will get a nice place to breathe, let alone to sit.
And the day goes by and in purely deppresive manner I start an introspection that leaves me to realize few things about myself:
1. I hate emails. They just bring bad news (e.g. more work to do) or unaffordable promotions
2. I’m mean to people and I regret nothing
3. I usually don’t make the promises I do to myself
4. I panick to cry without organization
So that’s it, my day.

Floure