MISUNDERSTOODING!

Every year, near Christmas and New Year’s Evening I feel a great grief and sadness. It is the time that I count my life during the 356 previous days.

My criterion is very strict and usually I find myself without any progress. I found my life stuck and my interests unfulfilled.

And this grief comes to hound these days that usually are days of happiness and rest. These days we leave the spirit to have fun and the body to have rest.

But me, not! I start counting and I find the “bill” defective.

It is my character. I never stop. I always want to do something new. I need new thrills to continue my life.

I have to compare my life with someone else’s life to see that I have done “something”.

I have to see other people’s laziness to understand my progress.

I don’t know what is wrong with me. Maybe the fact that I never stop to find new interesting and I want them to… walk during the year and don’t stay unfulfilled wishes.

But some things don’t want to walk and unfortunately I can do nothing. The situation is beyond my control.

This is what actually makes me lose my courage and think that the previous year was lost. Some things are beyond my control, but for me it is impossible this. I want to have the control of my life. The fact that I have to ask for someone else’s help or to count on

Someone else except myself is killing me.

And unfortunately, passing the time, I realize that I need help in my life as I need to wait much time until some of my dreams come true.

I know that putting me on the wall and shooting me is not the correct way, but that’s me.

But I thought for this year to make an exception.

I decide to make my list of “done in 2011” counting the positive things, that means what have I done and not what I hadn’t done.

I need some rest and some recompense in my life and no one else except me is going to give it to me.

VICTIMS

We all know that we cannot change a situation without victims (metaphorical or literal).

Saturday noon, some minutes after twelve, Talat Harb street started -suddenly- to full with people and at the end of the street from the round ground of Tahrir Square, you could see thick black smoke.

People started to run and the owners of the shops to close the shades quickly. Some people immortalized the history with cameras and mobiles.

Walking to the bus station of Tahrir Square, just some meters from the statue-guardian of the area, the army was around the street to control the situation and as you was watching the street, it was like the Mugama Bulding was burning (later I saw, on television, that were the tents that were burning).

From Mashpiro direction, a group of soldiers (sorry, I don’t know the army terminology) was crossing the bus station, walking to the Square. They were singing a song, something like anthem, I suppose to make them feel good and to give them courage.

One person, the tallest and strongest was wearing a hood-mask.

It was like a hangman in the Middle Ages, a master in the porno films, a betrayer during the german occupation, a killer in the B-thrillers…

It was disgusting. I really would like to know how a person like him feels. Which are his feelings? He feels proud? Disgraced? It is an obligation for him or a personal joy?

He feels happy because he has power?

Are the soldiers really hard and inhuman or just they don’t have another option?

At the end of the row, two soldiers were holding a young boy (approximately 18 years old). His was wearing a black footer with hood and his face was full of blood.

Some people were around the soldiers and were talking to them. I didn’t understand the language, but according to my perception, they were asking from the soldiers to leave the boy. The two soldiers were growling “la, la” that means “no”.

And they kept walking. I started crying. It was too much for me. A friend of mine had written in the morning that the previous day a friend of him killed in Tahrir Square.

And I really wonder: Do they really understand that they are all victims. Soldiers and revolutionaries? They are stooges at a fixing chessboard?

Even if there is no fraud at the elections, does anyone trust the politicians? I am sure that finally the real victim will be the people, the wonderful Egyptian nation. Politicians will cheat them.

It happens always, it is not the first time. And you really ask yourself. Finally, we are all and always victims? And what about the real victims? The dead people of the revolution?

I cannot answer. I just feel an enormous anxiety about the future and what I real wish from the bottom of my heart, is not to count any other victims anymore (metaphorically or literally). No more mothers crying for their children.

I hope the heaven is open now, and my wish will be accepted!

 

DICTATORSHIPS

Many times in my life, when I hear the word dictatorship referring to a political regime, I think how much kind of dictatorships there are and oppress our life.

Political dictatorship: It is the classical situation. An insecure, idiot, having complex, small dick, small minded, uneducated, betrayer of his country tries to apply his political opinion by guns, blood, terrorism, fear, disappearance of freedom. I can add many things about this kind of dictatorship, like any other person in the word (we have one in my country too). A dictatorial regime can give the name democracy to itself. But this doesn’t change anything. It is still dictatorship. This is what happens the last years in Europe and in America.

But what about the other kinds of this hateful regime? Dictatorships that determine our life and we don’t eve recognize or admit them like that?

Fashion dictatorship or Lifestyle dictatorship: I love fashion! It makes me feel young! I am not a fashion victim. Even one or two pieces every year in my wardrobe make me feel that I can still follow… the life. But I cannot stand the hysteria. A feast of persons that think the whole world turns around them. And they find a way to feel important.

I don’t speak about fashion people, people that earn their life from fashion. This is their work and I respect it. And is really and impressive work. I speak about insecure, new rich people judge people according to their style and the price of their clothes and the places that they go and the kind of food that they eat…

And yes, this kind of dictatorship is frequently combined with money. Fashion needs money.

I remember the last decade. If you didn’t eat sushi you were at least rustic or miserable. Two decades before this happened with the cream fresh and the rocket (this bitter dark green vegetable) with parmesan salad. And you paid them a loootttttttt.

If you cannot join the club (because you don’t have the money or simply because you don’t like it) then you are lost, you are the “errand boy”.

This is another kind of dictatorship that, believe me, can fuck up your life. It is a very dirty war, an unfair one. Like a low blow. And it is procession of lifestyle.

Money-power dictatorship: As I told before, lifestyle needs money. Life in general needs money. Sometimes I find in the books I read references to the cruelty of the lords and masters. A simple scene in Angelos Terzakis “Princess Isambo” (the story takes place in 1293 during the Francocracy in Greece). The lord gets inside the blacksmith’s place and for no reason takes a burning iron and put it on the face of the poor guy. No one could speak. He was the lord. In Idelfonso Falcones’ “La catedral del mar” which refers to a disgusting medieval law (or right), el derecho de pernada (Droit de segneur), where the lord had rights on anyone, even to do the most cruel things. Here, we are not talking about policy and political regime, but the rights of the workers didn’t exist. Something that happens today too. We live an new Middle Age, but because now we don’t die at 30, we are not exactly hungry, we buy things with credit cards, we think that we are free. But we are not. We work without rights, as much time “the job need us”, because we have to pay the loan of the house, the car, the children school and many other things that premise our salary. And we cannot react. We cannot say anything. Look Greece today and take a better look to the european countries that they don’t have an obvious problem. You will understand about what I talk.

Mentality dictatorship: This is what we call tradition, mentality, way of thinking of a nation. And here we can write millions of words. All the old fashioned ideas, the belief of other centuries drive our life until today. I don’t gossip my neighbors, neither my mother did it, so many years before against our small city mentality. In some places they call it interesting, religion belief, social obligation to involve in other people’s life. Fathers and mothers decide for their children life even in 2011. And people obey and they call it “respect to parents”. The fact that other people decide or their life on their own doesn’t mean that they don’t respect their parents, but just have other idea about their own life. Parents are still deciding for their children studies. This is funny! (at least).

Equally disgusting is the modern mentality, that shows you the way that you have to live and the “empty”, “uninteresting” model that urge.

And people are trapped between their own will and the old mentality. And unfortunately lust little people in every generation can go against this nonsense. That’s why things, mentalities and traditions change so low in this life.

I think all this kind of dictatorship equally dangerous and oppressive with the political ones, because they have their own victims too. And cause serious problems to normal people.  

POWER

I don’t know exactly what kind of happiness and satisfaction can give you the power, the ability to rule and give orders.

Maybe I am fool or maybe I am not enough ambitious. Or maybe my unfulfilled wishes don’t have to do with power. Or maybe I have another idea of the word “power”.

I would speak for myself, because I cannot speak for anyone else (I always sign what I write anyway) and because I want to be as much objective I can.

Most people that have power, they use it in bad way. They use it to fulfill their unfulfilled wishes or to cover any complex they have or to be rich in a very short time…

But what drives a person to destroy a country just to cover his own psychological problems? And telling psychological problems I don’t mean that they are necessarily psychos, but any kind of psychological problems, light or grave.

One good start is the family. If they grow up like a prince, then you will believe that all the world have to obey to you and to your desires.

In the case of politics, this happens when one family governs and gives the authority to the sons. These families grow up the kid putting in his mind that the country belongs to him, like the yard of his house in which he can do anything he wants.

Country it is his toy. Like an expensive MBA ball with the signs of all the basket ball stars, a platinum watch after a success in school (paid by the powerful father) and a cabriolet when he becomes 18.

 After this, we don’t need any explanation. The son sits on the governmental chair and play with his toys: the external politics, the sea, the land, the gas, the petroleum, the products of the country… From time to time changes his toys, he needs variety.

The nation, the people that consists the country whose he is government and makes him rich don’t exist. They are just “products for consumption”. Mean weaklings, annoying insects. And the nation feels it, and sooner or later reacts.

And all the dictators (and there are dictators even in the countries called their regime “democracy”), even the most isolated or the most idiots ones know very well that people hate them. And the panic starts.

And when the panic starts the terrorism starts too. And then they are the nation that feels fear. And the harder is the terrorism from the part of the governor the safer he feels.

And the story goes on.

The same feelings have the politicians that start from low classes in life and in army. And as people with complex of inferiority they are equally dangerous.

Army gives them the power to prove that they deserve something, that they are computable.

Politics in like the Pool of Siloam for every one that doesn’t want to go to the psychologist to solve his problem.

The ceaseless, eternal fight for power and money declares the fear of death. The collect money and power –more and more every day- because they think that they can avoid the death.

HAHAHAH.

Poor creatures. Poor mortal creatures. This is the only sure think in life. And I think this is the most fair. I think God has a great, cynical, cannibalistic humor and he created the world using this humor.

This is the official explanation that the science of psychology gives.

And that’s why they don’t hesitate to order the death of their own patriots. The death of the persons that “feed” them and make them extremely rich. That’s why they don’t hesitate to steal the country that products to feed the citizens and not the drones.

THEY TREAT THE COUNTRY LIKE THE PIMP THE PROSTITUTES.

Hosni Mubarak in Egypt and George A. Papandreou in Greece are two typical examples of this kind of politics. They took in their hands too countries, not any countries.

Greece and Egypt: The two greatest civilizations of the world and they use them like common whores. 

They terrified, stole, killed, depressed, gave job only to their relatives and voters, covered scandals, gathered powers, cheated people, sold the country to the foreigners, used the citizens as garbage and –in case of Mubarak- many things worst than any distorted fantasy and imagine.

They even didn’t care about their fame after death, because history, even it is written under the threat of the governor, FINALLY it says the truth. All the historical lies reveal sooner or later, even after centuries.

God (or life if you want) is fair. Rewards back the goodness and the badness a way or another.

And now, they are both out of the government, powerless, despicable and hateful.

For what? For POWER. For POWER and IMMORTALITY (literally).

They will never win the IMMORTALITY (metaphorically).

PS. I told you, God has a vitriolic sense of humor.

¡DEMASIADO CORAZÓN!

Algunas veces me siento tan vulnerable y indefenso que solamente qiero ser un punto en una página.

Nadie se interesa sobre un punto en una página y por eso el punto se siente seguro.

Mis voces, mis gritos, mis llantos, mis rezos, mis súplicas en vano. Nadie las oye.  Ni Dios, ni Diablo.

Estos momentos, la banda sonora es la canción de Manu Chao “Mi vida”.

Mi problema no es que no pueda enfrentar o resover mis problemas. Es que no quiero dar dolor a los demas. Aún a los traidores.

-         “Eres gilipollas” es una declaraciún que tomo.

-         “Eres como un pan” es otra.

-         “Busca el medio camino” otra.

Cuanto me siento como así, siempre pienso en cambiar mi charácter. Pero creo que ahora es demasiado tarde. Lo que puedo hacer es cambiar los límites personales.

No mas demasiado corazón. Es simple. En la teoría, sí. Pero en acción.

Sí y en acción tambión. Algún momento en la vida, el tortazo es tan fuerte que te obliga cambiar. Y una vez mas quiero dar mis gracias al traidor.

¡Gracias por todo!  

UNFINISHED SYMPATHY

What no one tells us and of course they don’t teach us in school is that when life doesn’t want to give you something, it will come.

Whatever is this, simple, fiddling, enormous: Dream, object, aim or feeling. It will never come.

But we are humans. And this is the problem. Human nature is made to hope, to be optimistic, to try developing the situations.

Human nature creates always an environment that permits us to survive.

Everyone design his own happiness. For me, happiness is a picture. And all my life I try to settle the scenery, frame the icon and hear the photographer (life in this case) to say “say whiskey”.

For my friend Elias, happiness is sounds and music.

In both cases, happiness doesn’t shape. For him, his melody is like the “Unfinished symphony”.

My image-happiness is like an “Unfinished Sympathy”. I beg during all my existence, life to help me fulfill my icon, to show me some sympathy, but unfortunately… “Unfinished sympathy”, “Unfinished image”, “Unfinished happiness”.

The hardest thing in this case is that human nature is always human nature and hope is always one of its… ingredients.

And when you are near to one of the components of happiness, one of the substance that will help you complete or at least to enrich the image, the heart starts to feel, the mind thinking. The hope creates dreams. And you are flying. And mentally you complete all the gaps of the icon and the joy is soooo big! You think you touch the heaven. You walk without step on the ground. All the pieces of the puzzle get in the right place. And the icon seems almost ready to fulfill.

Forgotten feelings come on surface, sun comes until the bottom of your heart, images are creating, moments of life that you didn’t hope to live come in front of your face, YOU START FEEL HUMAN (again).

And then, life comes and blurs your eyes. You cannot see the picture anymore. It doesn’t exist.

The dream gives its place to a cold feeling. Emptiness comes again. Your heart returns to the previous situation. Back to the life that we follow, because there is nothing else for us. We have to bow the head again and continue. Without sun, without hope, without any kind of dream.

Life returns to show you who is the boss. And you start to look at your image again through the photographer’s lens. And the picture is unfulfilled again.

And the pain is terrible, because, for some moments you thought that you could touch the happiness. But for one more time, happiness escaped.

And just one emotion left for you: the unfinished sympathy.

How many times you can face it? For how long someone is able to wait his personal picture to fulfill?

A lifetime? An eternity?   

For how long you can stand “Unfinished sympathy”. And this fucking puzzle always half made?

USED CONDOMS

Recently, I have been used for one more time.

It doesn’t have to do if it happened on purpose or by accident.

The pain is the same. The bad feeling is strong too.

Overconfidence. I trusted someone very much; I loved him with all my heart. I though he has a special heart and mind.

HaaaaaaH. Life is a bitch.

And my reward was betrayal. I didn’t deserve this for sure, but what can I do? It happened.

As the Chinese say “you don’t have to feel sad in two cases: in the one that you can fix the things and in the other that you cannot fix them”.

But my problem is that I am not Chinese and I am not wise. I am just a common person and I have feelings. And when someone hurts me, I feel pain. And if I love him much, I feel deep pain.

Maybe you will find me exaggerated, but I feel like a condom after this. You use it and when you don’t need it anymore, you throw it to the garbage.

No one goes near to a used condom to express his sympathy. It is stayed alone and used in the basket.

I don’t like the big words and I am not a revengeful person, but I believe in universal justice. Some call this justice God. My problem is not the name of the justice, but the justice. And I believe that sooner or later, we all pay for what we do.

I don’t want to take any kind of revenge. Really I don’t, because this will not erase the fact and will not eliminate my pain.

Love is something wonderful. There is not something that anyone cane give and there is not something that anyone can appreciate.

I just want to punch his face and not to see this person again in my life.

But you know, when you give love, you cannot believe why they don’t want it. And it is more difficult to understand why you have to pay for giving love. We you have to be punished. If you cannot appreciate love, at least don’t give pain to the other.

It is like someone takes a part of my body away, using violence. And I don’t know that if the pain or the shock is stronger.

And the problem is that I was blamed. The situation turned this way, that I had to apologize.

I think that I spent energy without a reason and this situation doesn’t deserve to stay on it and spend time on it.

HOW EASY IS TO SAY BIG WORDS!

But what I took from this life lesson –“every cloud has a silver lining”- is that I will never leave anyone anymore to make me feel like used condom again.

And as my favorite Scarlett O’Hara used to say: “As God I will never trust and open my heart to anyone, from now on”.

Thank you for everything. I really appreciate you for this. I will remember it forever. J

LADIES

I hate a concrete category of women in my life: The important men’s ladies (wives, mistresses, lovers, sisters, etc.).

Actually they are unprofessional and they want to do something just to spend their time creatively.

They come to the office holding a handbag that costs your salary of one year and play the expert using the fame of the man.

After two or three days, you understand that they don’t have any idea of working, but you have to shut up and cooperate with them (or actually, to do the job for them).

Women like Susan M. is not a rare phenomenon. Powerful, strong man, benevolent woman. And suddenly, all people start to talk for her, like there was no charity before or no other people in charity field.

And the problem is when you are obliged to “incense” them and support their ego every day. It is disgusting and stressful.

And what drives you crazy is that all these ladies believe that they have a talent and they are proud of it. And if they take a price, arranged by the companies and the connections of the husband they are very proud.

Of course! If you give a prize to someone, he will be very proud of it. But some people have doubts about this. These untalented ladies, have none. They are deeply convinced that they deserve this honor.

This is really pathetic!

REAL INTERVIEWS

I am a journalist almost all my life. I love my job, but only under specific circumstances. Sometimes I think how would be the questionnaire in a real interview, if I had the ability to ask and the interviewee had really the ability and the appetite to answer truly.

Something like a confession between a person and his therapist or a believer and his pastor.

Maybe a n historian, a “serious” journalist, a political affairs journalist, a from a political party journalist, or whatever journalist have different kind of questions to ask some people, but I, I really have just some simple questions to ask some people.

Lets say that I meet the ex Greek government, George Andreas Papandreou (or GAP). I don’t have any sonorous questions to ask him.

Maybe if I was a political serious television journalist would ask him “Do you understand that you –idiot, unable, small, deficient- destroyed the COUNTRY OF THE COUNTRIES? The country that gave the civilization to the world?”

“What do you think that the future history would write for you?” or “Do you feel responsible for the situation of the country today?”

No, thanks God, I am not like them. I would like just to ask him “Do you feel good that you sold out the country?” “Do you feel good being a betrayer of these people that made you rich?” “You were stealing them all this years and now you don’t have any problem to drive them to the pauperization” “Can you sleep the night thinking that you send the police against your own patriots, against these people that all these years helped your grandfather (yes the bands, as we all know very well are composed of three and more generations of persons of the same family), your father and finally you?” “What did your father, the friend of American system and your mother, the American, was telling you when you were a child: Greece is yours, like your plastic car?”

I just want the answers to these questions. I think they are enough to understand the real character of a person.

Same think for Hosni Mubarak. “Please, Mr. Mubarak, tell me, what you were thinking when you changed the name of the Ramses station to Mubarak station? Did you hope that people would forget Ramses? Or you were sure that your name in history would have the same importance with his?” “How could you sell a country with such a history?” “Who gave you the right to bring up your children telling them that Egypt belongs to them?” “Was it so difficult to think that these people that you took from them everything, and finally send the guns and the bullets against them one day would be against you?” “Life didn’t teach you that any situation, good or bad has approximately twenty years of life? Your omnipotence last thirty. More than the usual. It was not enough for you?”

Dear Susan, I can find a reason to forgive Mubarak (it is a figure of speech, he doesn’t have any excuse) because he was the president. But you? “How did you find so much money?” “What was your job, except of first lady of Egypt?” “Why all this people have to pay you because you got married a man much older than you? This is your problem, this is not Egypt’s” “Why you think that Egypt belongs to you and your sons?” “What did you tell to your children about Egypt? This is your property?”

Unfortunately, my list of such persons doesn’t end and unfortunately I could never do these questions to them, but I believe in justice. Not the human one and this one in the course. I believe in divine justice and in universe’s justice.

The truth, even after a long long time reveals.

And as Sophocles says “Κανένα ψέμα δεν γέρασε ποτέ”.

NOT TWICE!

The first days after the Egyptian Revolution people were happy in Egypt and were waiting the situation to change.

“How are you sure that they will not trick you”, I asked my friend Foxy.

“No, Farah” he answered me “this is not possible. Everything will gonna to be ok. The elections will come and the country will rise again”.

“I wish” I answered to him. I didn’t want to hurt him. But I was sure that it will happen. Not only because I am a journalist and I know how the story goes.

In January, Egyptians has to pay with their own blood the ambition and the enormous ego of a man (Mubarak), that didn’t want to leave the power. And of course we cannot talk about love for the country or the “slaves” that was servicing the Lord. Because he was thinking that he is god, that he will never leave the power or the life on earth.

But his time came. Always the time comes. But insecure people or people that their mind overcomes the logic they don’t. His madness doesn’t permit them to think clearly.

Now, another crazy, ambitious man (Tantawy) tries to get his own way on the Egyptian nation. It is his chance and he wants to use it. Who can blame him because he wanted to be the boss all his life, but he was only the flunkey? ALL. All the world and the history.

Because a country does not belong to him. It is not his personal manor. Egypt belongs to Egyptian. And Egyptians are called one more time to pay with their own blood the personal dream of another crazy leader.

Why? Why eighteen and twenty years old young man to be killed for him? Because they are killed for his ambition. Not for the country. The country is not in danger. The danger is an old man that NOW met the opportunity of his life and he wants to take advance of it. He doesn’t want to die and unknown military. He wants to leave his print in the Egyptian and respectively to the world history.

I don’t trust them, as I didn’t trust the situation after Mubarak’s resign.

If I made an interview with him, my first two questions would be “Are you crazy, Mr. Tantawy?) “What are you going to say to the relatives of the victims? Why did they die?”

He will never leave. This is what he thinks. His ego now doesn’t leave him to see that the time will come. That the time always come. For everyone.

Egyptians and history will never forgive me. God too.

He laughs best who laughs last.

And Egyptians didn’t tell their last word yet.

سيد طنطو  أرحل

Seigneur Tantawy, DEGASE!

GOODBYE

Sometimes I think I die, now as far as I am a kind of young. And I try to reproduce the day of my funeral.

Actually, I don’t want to be buried. I think it is useless and a way for the religions to make money. I know that my family is against this, because they love me and “the burial” is for them the best sign of respect and love.

I had gifted my body to the university.

But this is not what I want to say. I imagine the scene of the café, where after the funeral, we use to take a coffee and a brandy to honor the dead.

There, erecting in my ears in these tables, I can hear every one to speak about me.

All people will try to understand why I finished my life. “She was a very active person, full of interest”. “She had her work and traveling around the world”. “You have to see her house. It was unique, a very theatrical one”. “She was so honest, so descent. She knew how to fight in life”. “She…..”. “She….”

After my life, suddenly everyone discovered my graces.

All these people that made my life difficult or hard, all these people that they didn’t hesitate to step on me in order to make a career (miserable people that they have only their visit card title to be happy in life), even closer persons.

Persons that loved me, but denied me any kind of common life (people need an kind of life to live, company, vacation, cinema, bars) not only a person that will hear him in a difficult moment.

All these persons that never thought that you need a friend, a normal one and not a confessor, they will be here.

Persons never helped me, because of the egoism and the old mentality, because they thought that I have the strongest bearing of the world and I should always be there.

All these persons that want to give me something (I don’t know what), but for their own private reasons they don’t give it to me, but keep it for later.

But as we all know, patience has limits. 

IF SOMEONE IS FRIEND OF MINE, I NEED HIS LOVE NOW. NOT HIS ADMIRATION AFTER DEATH. AND I NEED HIM ALIVE NEAR ME, NOT HIS SPIRIT.

THE REMAINS OF HAPPINESS

Yesterday, I was watching a series on television. A happy couple (rich of course) is going to be married and found its ideal house.

The couple is outside the house and look at it, like the swimming pool and the penthouse reflect the happiness. And watching this scene, remember all these “objects of happiness” in all these future happy houses.

Till now, I go to divorced woman houses and drink coffee in the same cups that so carefully had chosen for the new house. A white excellent cup, a porcelain plate, the whole set for eat, for tea, for deserts. An expensive towel in the bathroom, a 100% cotton sheet on the bed, the decoration things chosen one by one by the couple or by the friends of it in the living room.

Objects that was firming the future happiness. That would take part in an ideal life full of love, comprehension and compassion.

And while you are waiting for the cup to be broken, love breaks. And people become from couple, single. And one of them keeps the objects.

Every time I have to drink my coffee in one ex-happy cup, my heart is tightening and every time I see an open cupboard with all this stuff, I am ready to cry.

Finally, the objects are stronger than happiness (?)

عجنبى

MOOOOVE! MOOOOOOOVE!

I am tired. I am really tired. And I am sick too.

As time goes by, I try very hard to find something to please me. This thing doesn’t mean that I am unhappy. No. I just have another, more eloquent criterion that I had, when I was young. Maybe I’m getting old, maybe I mature. I don’t know.

For me, life never stops. Every day brings something new and every day I want something new.

I am tired to meet people that still are proud for a success that they have when they were eighteen years old, or twenty or thirty and so on.

All my life I want to live and learn different things. When I study something, I do it and then finished. END! After this I want something new.

“I am a teacher. I finished the university”. All right, congratulations!

You had eighteen years old and now you are thirty five. All your life you will be proud of this? For something that happened seventeen years before?

I agree, this event gives you the opportunity to earn your life. You made it your job and you pay your rent. But… I don’t know.

Is it enough for people? Studies that provide them a job and nothing else?

Can a job be satisfied and proper for all your life? Your brain, your soul, your body never need something else.

I used to be a journalist for eighteen years and one day I felt sick. I couldn’t do it anymore. I wanted a break. I like writing and I shall always do. 

Maybe in five years I want to do the same job again, but not for now. I cannot spend all my life being proud because I was a journalist, an editor in chief, a senior editor…

I don’t deny them, it is really something very important and it is not something that everyone can do, but I have to stop it. I shall not be proud all my life only because I did this thing.

I learnt English. OK. I learnt it and I go on. I shall not tell all my life, I learnt English, I have my certificate. I obtain my aim and I fill my quiver for new targets.

I have a perception and I don’t know if it’s correct or no, but I am almost persuaded. Persons that have only one qualification in life (one certificate, one language, one interest, one aim) are very hard and unfair with the others and they always want to pass their own ideas.

And that’s how the problems begin.

Maybe I am crazy, maybe I am a person that gets bored easily, maybe I am exaggerating, but for me, nothing is enough.

I don’t blame people because they don’t do things. “Doing things” is a combination of circumstances (free time, money, lack of obligations, willing to learn, correct timing, etc). That makes me mad is the pride that people feel and the way that present these kind of victories.

I finished the university, I have my degree, after this I never read anything more, I don’t follow the evolutions of my science, I didn’t even read enough in the university, now I have a job, I make money, I have a good career…

Make money, career. Two meanings I hate.

I love money, I adore money. I think that is the best thing in the world, but is that it? Is that all? For me, career is work all day, make money, to show off to my friends. Career persons are these ones that stay all day to work, because they don’t have any other kind of interest or life.

Of course there are persons that can combine many things, but they are few.  

I am sick to hear persons to work, work and work and make money and be allllllllll day at work. You are successful businessman, I agree. But, that’s all. If this is what you want, you are happy. You are a career person.

No thank you. I prefer to change interest every five years. Whatever I do, I do it well, trust me, because I work very hard. But after some time, it finishes.

I want new thrills. I want AIR, new ideas.

That’s me!

TRAPPED BY LIFE

Every day I feel more and more trapped by life. And when I look around me, I see more and more people trapped by their life.

Persons with abilities, dreams, hunger to create, ideas… that cannot live. Life traps them.

As far as concerns me, I am trapped. I AM TRAPPED.

I always do things that I don’t want. Like a magic hand moves just a millimeter my target and I can never find it. And I feel like Scarlett O’Hara “nothing in my life cam as I wanted”.

All my life is full of obstacles that I cannot overpass them and I change my road. I change my road, because I have to move on, to continue my way.

And I see that the same thing happens to my friends, my colleagues, my neighborhoods…

People are trapped by the mentality or the time, the customs of the country, the narrow minded man world. Trapped by fears, unfulfilled wishes...

People that make dreams and when it’s time to make them true, life comes and stopped them. A professor that doesn’t want to lose his “chair” (even if he is 100 years old) stops the evolution of a young student. Relatives that still live in the 19^th century decide for the future of another family member.

Colleagues full of complexes never accept a new idea, if it doesn’t derive from their mind. And they are trapped by their personal fears too “Am I enough for this position? Maybe another with better education come and takes my position. Maybe this new idea is dangerous for me”.

People want to travel and the law of the country doesn’t permit them. People want to live in another country and again the law of the new country doesn’t permit them. People want to marry, but their traditions are different.

Invented differences make our life a HELL. Differences obtruded by complexes, interest and power.

We are coming to this life without our willing, they send us to school without our willing, we make dreams, we plan our own life, we try to be prepared for it as best as we can and after this real life start.

You go “out” and the trapping starts. You have to handle the real life (rent, bills, expenses of any kind) and if you still have the energy for dreams, then, OK, you are free to make them true. And even if the real life doesn’t stop you, someone else will come to your way to do it: a competitive companion, a narrow minded person, a conservative, a villain person, an IDIOT. Always exists and insuperable obstacle.

We come to this life and someone plays with us. We start running, but in reality there is no term. There is no rope to cut. And if exists, only some of us see it and less cut it.

I don’t understand why we bring children to this world.

Day by day I see people that they cannot breathe. They try very hard to find a way and suddenly they are called to walk on another one.

I don’t know what to say. I am just trapped by life and I feel that all my friends are trapped too. I don’t care about me. In a way I used my “punishment”.

But I cannot stand the fact that I cannot do anything for my friends. I cannot help them. I spend nights crying and praying for them (because they believe in praying) and nothing changes. If I could shell my soul to the Devil (like Faust) to help them, I would do it). But I cannot. I cannot help! I cannot help!

We shall be all our life trapped.

I cannot stand it. I cannot see any light. I just see the dark of the tunnel. I hope that them one day they’ll see the light.

I am an optimistic person, even if you don’t believe it. But I am. And I continue my life, walking my way (or the way I can walk on), hoping that I could walk on it as much time as it possible, before life changes my route one more time.

Maybe this is my way of resistance or my way to see some light in my own personal trap. I don’t know. The only thing I know is that someone has to try to find out the medicine for “trapping”.