Writer's Block

'I get this writer's block; it comes as quite a shock,

And now I'm stuck between a hard place and the biggest rock, [...]'

(Just Jack - Writer's Block)

What? Writer's block? No, its not a building where writers live. It's that when you can't write anything no matter how hard you try. Like you've forgotten how to put words together to form a sentence.

That's something what is happening to me right now; I really can't write anything. I said 'anything'? I meant 'ANYTHING'. I just sit down, force myself to write something... Something good... for once... Topic? No idea. Style? Not a clue. Language? Sure...

Ok, first step: music. Music is crucial. Got it, Peter, Björn & John will do the trick. Next one? Feeling comfortable... I should've shaved... Whatever, start it! I need a topic. Okay, let's do it! GRrrr! Brainstorming! Everyone, shout out the words which just pop in your minds! (It's just me so it'll be a bit slower.)

Deer, car wash, newspaper, tractor, guitar, British History (actually all I can think of is the British History exam in two weeks time)...

But there was no time in the British history when a tractor driver deer went into a car wash playing on a guitar and reading the newspaper SIMULTANEOUSLY... That's impossible... whatever. Brainstorming was useless...

So that's something like writer's block. You can't write anything. Of course that's not true, because if you really want to, you can write about that you can't write. something like this:

I got up early today to start writing something on my blog but unfortunately I can't. The sun is shining outside, birds are singing beautifully on the green branches of the high pine trees just in front of my door. It's beautiful. (Will it be something like this in Heaven? I hope so.) 

I made a list today, a to-do list with all the things I want to do before the sun goes down so I shouldn't hesitate which one to start with because... that's a waste of time. Tidying up my room is one of the toughests on the list, but the other ones are nice as well. [...]

And so on... :)

It's something like the last entry on my blog... isn't it? Or at least for a while. What a shame I've got this writers block... So as a last message here please welcome a readymade quote by me:

Life is like physics, like soundwaves. It's got its ups and downs sometimes higher, sometimes lower, maybe the frequencies are changing, but when there are more life-soundwaves connected together with the help of relationships, love, or friendship, it becomes something more. 

That's what we call music. The music of life.

What style is yours?

It's not perfect yet, but I'm working on it!

Rights for Pencils

A part from the revolutionary spech of a Pencil leader.

'My dearest fellow Pencils! Citizens of the Pencase Peninsula, listen to me! How long have webeen told that we're dependent of men? How long have we been told that we're inferior than pens? How long have we been banned from offices and courtrooms? How long are you going to take this? You're ruled by people who don't even know that we are relatives to their highly beloved Diamond... unfaithful brother... Oh, my dear people, can't you see?

I am standing before you not because that I am sharper than you are. I am just a pencil like you. I was born as a 2B but over the years my heart became hard seeing all the injustice and unfairness what men had done to US. I was in the prison, yes, I was. In the prison of mankind. In the prison of children, called pencase, after our precious country. They sharpened me, just because they weren't sharp enough. They chewed me just because they were too anxious to ask a girl out. They had to write with me in case they make a mistake. I've met lots of different races and I can tell, my dear people, you are still my beloved ones. What I saw there I will never forget. Erasers razed our words literally with their bottoms.

Don't think that my lead is broken, that I am insane! I saw it, I did. In highschools, teachers of men - oh, they are so different from our teachers, my people - don't let us to help their students to write a test. They call us cheaters. They think that we work together with the Erasers... filthy, sticky rubber mafia... And there were Pencils, my friends, I saw, who said uncle to the dictatory of men. They wore eraser trousers... horrifying...

And in universities they don't care to be politically correct towards us. When they don't have pens, they say 'I just have this pencil.'. Like we aren't good enough. Like pens are better. Like pens worth more. As a fellow pencil wrote in one of his songs - which was stolen by a human band - 'I want to break free'. I want to break free, too! Do you? Do you feel the same way? Then fight till our last breath, till our last chance to be sharpened. If I have to die in oversharpening, I want to sharpen myself, I won't be sharpened by men anymore! Who's with me? [...]'

The 'Braingone' period...

Anyone can write a poem

Anyone can write a poem,
forgive me
if this word-scam
catches thee.
(It will be better,
Don't judge early...
Please...)

Books have chapters,
longish pages,
need more time to read
like... ages
but poems have fairly short
parts (called 'verses')
won't get bored
with all the stuff you have to read
(although reading is fun...)

All you need are catchy rhymes
repeat words just a few times
like 'love, life, freedom, fate and fight
sophisticated day and night
express yourself, switch the light'
these will do like dynamite.

Writing all the cliché horde
sounding like a Depeche Mode
song you've heard few hundred times
(boring even if it rhymes).
'You hear the sound,
you feel the wound
you're being bound
off the ground
by the feeling
of the evening...'
(This witty verse
is getting worse
so I move on...)

You could be a poet later
(better than a simple waiter
you won't have to serve a thing)
In literature nearly a king.

...
And when I see I'm almost ready
I feel stupid...
Stop already!



Trees

Shout out loud that the World is beautiful,
Even if the Sun's down, the breeze is cool,
No one says that you're a fool,
No one says that you're a tool.

Look, trees are much greener now,
You don't have to ask them how,
We all know that they'll do so,
After melting all the snow.

Trees know why to be so happy,
They are here, and they are ready
To show you the World's brighter side,
Which the sadness tries to hide.

Here on Earth you can be hero,
You can be cruel, you can be Nero,
You can be all the good you know,
Or go as far as you can go...

Shout out loud that the World is beautiful,
Even if the Sun's down, the breeze is cool,
No one says that you're a fool,
No one says that you're a tool.


--- I'll write something valuable later on, too... :) ---

What the hell am I doing here?

It was your first idea. Waiting in the bus stop seemed all right. Of course it is all right. You wait for her, she sees you, she will be happy, you will be happy, everyone will be happy at last, once-in-a-lifetime, opportunity of the decade. The sun is shining, it's the first day of Spring. Or is it? Maybe there will be some snow in the next few days, but who cares. Today is carpe diem, tomorrow awaits to teach us why to be patient.

You're not alone at the bus stop. Around you everyone has a story. There's for example that lady in a brownish coat. She looks happy. She stands just next to the bus stop sign. Why is she waiting for the bus? Or she just waits for someone like you do? Maybe her granddaughter comes for a visit. While you think about these things, that boy in funny shoes lights on a cigarette. The fume irritates the lady and with a grimace she walks a few steps away.

And what could be the story of funny shoes by the way? The sun melts the chocolate in your hands, or does something with the flower you're holding... you've never been good at biology. Just trying to concentrate on the actual subject of the bus-waiting you look from one side to another. Who is that sad guy? Looks familiar.

Suddenly you hear a song you haven't heard a long time ago. It's from the earphones of FunnyShoes. You know this song, you know the lyrics. "I wish I was special, you're so fucking special. But I'm a creep..." (Radiohead - Creep) Whenever you hear this song you think that it's about you. But it's not. You're not a weirdo. Just stop thinking about these stupidities and concentrate on your aim.

By the way. What is it? You want that girl, or what? Sure you do! She's nice, she's clever, she's beautiful, she's so... fucking... special. But what if she doesn't like you? Of course she does, or, at least that's what you have to think. That's what you thought for a long time. You start to think about the obvious like it was just your imagination. You start to think too much. That was always your problem. You think too much and draw the wrong conclusion. You feel the chocolate on your fingers.

A bus stopped and the club of the lady and FunkyShoes augments some new people from different locations, heading to different locations, having different stories which are maybe bigger than yours. Some more minutes. Of course you will wait her. Suddenly, Sun starts to shine differently. Like She would say "Man, why are you thinking? Isn't it the right thing to do? It's Valentine's day, for Earth's sake... Yes, it was the Sun talking to you." Yes, definitely you think too much. Or drink too little.

Your head aches, maybe it's just the sun, or the dehydration, or that you had nothing to eat since last night. That endless buzzing in your ears just keep singing the song. Actually just a small part of the song "What the hell am I doing here?"... Who's that sad boy in the reflection on the window? Looks familiar. You love this girl, don't you? Why are you sad then? Is looking for an exit all the time you think of her is a sane state of mind? When the butterflies in your stomach feel like T-Rexes?

Just a few more seconds and she'll be here, but you are not where you were before. Walking away was your second idea...

Maybe she won't be on the bus. Why are you here anyway? Brownish coat, Funny Shoes, the new members of the club. They all look at you with the eyes... 'The Eyes'... 'Where are you going? Don't you love that girl?' 'Of course I do love her!' 'Then what the hell is wrong with you? Believe in it a bit! Your chocolate is dripping on your shoes by the way...'

You stopped. Who's that guy in the reflection? He's much happier now. He is much familiar now. He loves that girl. The bus stops. She smiles at you... It's just butterflies... The dinosaurs extincted a few minutes ago...

Walking away was your second idea... Walking away was my worst idea...

Rainy day in sunny Pécs - Predicting a destination.

Short philosophical questions answered in a nutshell, or something...

1. Pécs, the city of Mediterranean moods:
Is it? Is it Mediterranean? Raining all day? Soooo Mediterranean, thanks! Also: what can I do with my Mediterranean mood when it's cold... Again. It's just... they forgot to send us global warming. That's it.

2. Is there such a thing like 'semi-waterproof shoe'?
'Semi' means half. So half of it is waterproof, half isn't. Maybe the left is, the right isn't. Or the half of both. Or they are waterproof when they're not in contact with water. That's it.

3. Which was the first: the tuning-fork, or the fork?
I think it was the fork. Because: why would we call the other one 'fork' if we don't know what a fork is?

4. Which was the first: the chicken or the egg?
No idea.

5. What's the aim of the life?
Good question, thanks for asking!

6. Is there such a thing like 'predestination'?

I don't believe in predestination, but that's just my opinion. The next paragraphs will be about my beliefs and thoughts. I don't want to repeat 'it's my opinion', but imagine that I do.

I think about life as a gift. We got our lives from God, who said: 'Chris, it's your life. Do whatever you want with it, but we'll talk again, soon.' God gave us the life with one rule: if we do something, we have to face the consequences. I can steal, I can lie, but there will be consequences. Not a big thunderbolt, which hits me every time I do something wrong. But the natural consequences of stealing or lying or whatever I do.

If there would be predestination, than, no matter what I do, I'll be hit by a car by the age of 25. Maybe. There's no way to escape. Than God is a cruel person, who plays with us. No matter what I do, no matter who I'll become, there will be that car, that time, me, and a drunk driver, and I'll be hit. Then where's my free will?

OK, let's say free will and predestination can exist side by side. Than imagine this situation:

Basic situation: It's predestination.
I'm 25, crossing the road between Árkád and Konzum, suddenly a drunk driver hits me with a Suzuki at a speed of 93 km/hs. Let's say I die. (It's a bit... ok, it's not good to think about it, I think I won't go anywhere near to Árkád in the next 5 years! :) )

Situation variation no. 1: It's free will.
I'm 25, want to cross the road between Árkád and Konzum, suddenly I see a drunk driver driving a Suzuki at a speed of 93 km/hs. I don't cross the road, it's my choice, I won't die.

Situation variation no. 2: It's the mixture of numerous free wills. I.
I'm 25, want to cross the road between Árkád and Konzum, suddenly I see a driver driving a Toyota Celica at a speed of 50 km/hs. He hasn't drink a drop of alcohol in his whole life, has a house, beautiful kids, wife, job, nice cars. He's not drunk at all. Just a usual rule-liker citizen. I decide to cross the road. He hits me, I get to the hospital.

Situation variation no. 3: It's the mixture of numerous free wills. II.
I'm 25, want to cross the road between Árkád and Konzum, suddenly I see a driver driving a Toyota Celica at a speed of 50 km/hs. He hasn't drink a drop of alcohol in his whole life, has a house, kids, beautiful wife, job, nice cars. He's not drunk at all. Just a usual rule-liker citizen. I decide to wait for the green. No one dies. No one goes to hospital.

Situation variation no. 4: It's the mixture of numerous free wills. III.
I'm 25, and decide to stay at home for the day.

Situation variation no. 5: It's the mixture of numerous free wills. IV.
I'm 25, crossing the road between Árkád and Konzum, and no one's on the road. The man stayed at home with his kids.

...

So if I have free will, then there are a bunch of chances. Of course when any of this would happen than we could say 'It's Destiny' but there's not a thing like destiny. My destiny is to chose a way of life.

God doesn't say that 'These are the ways, this is the end. You can chose how to live, but the end is always the same...'. If it would be like this, then what about the children who die at a young age? Or (sorry) before they born? Or what about the suicides?

Yep, it took a deep and serious turn, sorry. But that's all my opinion about the topic. Of course if we say that God doesn't exist at all, then the whole predestination thing is nonsense. Then who would write our destiny if God doesn't exist?

Well, thanks for reading this one, it was a bit long, but... long... Yep.

A non-existent novel: Boiling water, coffee from Brazil

Chapter Three

'Yee-haa!'
'Bobby, please do not scare customers to death! It's not good... you know... for the business...'

And by the way, wearing a sheriff-style hat screaming out 'Yee-haa!' in the daytime doesn't mean that you're a cowboy. It doesn't even mean that you're sane. Not even at Halloween... Not in the daytime. Actually it means that you're insane. Anytime. But... You know, it's Bobby... He has nothing to do with sheriffs or cowboys, not even with pictures of cowboys. He saw 'Once Upon a Time in the West' two times, that's all. And his name isn't Bobby. He's Carlos Somethingsomething. ('Somethingsomething' stands for his real name which is too hard to remember to.)

He usually comes in the shop every day at 10 AM to tell us that he doesn't drink coffee. We don't know why. We asked it so many times I can't even remember when I started not to listen to the answer. 'It's the caffeine blah blah blah...' Why do I drink coffee? Same reason.

We started the 'Coffee Brazil' back in 2003, the time when energy drinks were for kids, guns were for the Mafia and coffee for the businessmen. Now it seems like changing. Everybody has a gun to protect the energy-drink business. So between shooting each other and shooting each other they just have time for a quick sip of Red Bull. Anyhow coffee is good. Coffee is brown and doesn't have bubblegum smell. Just an ideal mixture of good things and better things.

Jeah, 'Coffee Brazil'? We ordered the nameplate than realised that it doesn't make any sense. 'Coffee Brazil' means 'A Brazil made of coffee'. But it's not a problem. It's not a café, just a coffee shop, so it can't be 'Café Brazil' anyway. When we realised that the name choosing was a bit... ehm... unfortunate, we tried to draw a comma between coffee and Brazil, but we always had problems during the football world cups, because... we just hate them. Even Brazil. So throwing off the Brazil fans during world championship was like WW4, just bigger, and with better weapons. Atomic beer cans and green-yellow fan-style hats. And I just feel like a Nazi soldier during these meetings. 'Achtung! World Cup!'. (WW3 is listening to Bobby arguing with his mom.) The shop is not too big, not too small, not too tidy. Just perfect for a coffee shop. We don't have a big market, Tchibo and Nescafé. Special enough, isn't it? Yeah, I don't think either.

Back to Bobby...

'Hi, Bobby!' - Said Josh politely. He's always polite. Even after all the 'Yee-haa!' and 'Welcome to the Wild West!' stuff.
'Hi, James! Welcome to the Wild West!' - He doesn't even know the poor boy's name...
'It's Josh, Bobby!'
'Where? New employee?'
'Doesn't matter...'
'What can I get you?' - What did I say? Politeness... I just open the papers... Sudoku!
'I don't drink coffee, Kid...'
'Why, Bobby?'
'Because of the caffeine blah blah blah' - blah blah it must be a nine here...
'So what can I get?'
'Actually the other thing why I don't like coffee is that blah'
'More respect please, you're talking about coffee!' - OK, I did everything I could, now go back to the... look at there... Crosswords!
'Sure, coffee... Just a drug. Like alcohol or cigarettes...'
'What can I get you then? Alcohol or cigarettes?'
'Bollocks. I hate them all. All just... you know... addictive.' Nine words, horizontal a..i...ve ...
'ADDICTIVE! Gotcha!'
'Pardon?'
'Nothing...'
'What... can I get you then?'
'OK, just give me a Kit-Kat.' - He eats 5 Kit-Kats a day. Smoke is addicting. Kit-Kat is delicious. - 'It's delicious.' - Just what I said... [And the conversation goes on for a whole paper... called... 'Crosswords monthly'...]

So that's all about 'Coffee Brazil'. That's my life. My whole life in a coffee shop. *sip* Man, I love coffee...

*** Entry of the Week ***

My previous post, ' Without the caring softness of virtual reality ' won the title 'Entry of the Week' today. Thank you very much, Joe, it's an honour to-be the first one who receives this great prize. Thank you... I have no words...

But first of all I would like to say thanks to my ... to OUR, of course... to our internet provider company, Chellonetfoncomdatatel for deactivating, reactivating, re-reactivating, over activating, and radio activating our account and finally for letting me connect to the internet to post my entry. It was a pleasure to deal with you, Chellonetfoncomdatatel guys!

Secondly I would like to say thanks to my parents, especially to Dad for changing the internet provider company from Somethingtel to Chellonetfoncomdatatel. Thanks Mum, Dad!

And of course I want to thank all of You, Guys, for commenting on that entry, for reading my blog whatever funny, silly, or boring stuff I write about. Thanks a lot! And I would like to take the opportunity to encourage everybody who will win this title in the future to write a 'thank you' post, like this one (no, not like this one, it's too silly... but a thank you post...) to thank everybody who helped in the winning of the prize.

Thanks again! Sleep tight to-night! ;)