. 24

twenty-four
.
yet eighteen
lost and only questions
what a low

twenty-four
.
what is it?
look at me
did you expect more?

the daily nihilist no.4

Remember these little facts one had learnt at school, didn't pay much attention to back then because they didn't hold any meaning to you particularly and they only click in when you're older and suddenly can relate to it?

Like realizing Ludwig van Beethoven also suffered from hyperacusis, alongside tinnitus and hearing loss. Yet he managed to compose these exact masterpieces you listen to when in need for a background noise for your tinnitus!

Or how Vladimir Lenin, after establishing a name for himself, tried to cope with headache on regular basis, as well as with insomnia and hyperacusis.

What do these examples prove then? That you're still able to create something beautiful despite your disadvantages? Or that you're capable of horrible acts, causing many casualties in pursuit of 'the perfect socialist revolution', when you give in to your suffering and unexpressed anger?

Or maybe just that random thoughts and truly meaningless links, together with combination of dark humour and with being even more cynical, are the only right answer to all questions troubling you.

balcony

also known as

Buffer Zone 

between personal space and shared public area

.
everyone should have a balcony
.
and I want a love that falls as fast as
a body from a balcony
- Mitski

death . part 2

Therefore, next time you hear somebody say: 'I never ever wish to own or even to drive a car.', maybe think twice before you laugh?
Maybe don't ask them uncomfortably too many questions?
Maybe don't try to ridicule a person for their own choices, however unusual they may seem?

Because it's very likely they have a bloody good reason for it.

death . part 1

I witnessed a death yesterday. It's bizarrely true that accidents sometimes happen in such an apparent slow motion, yet one is too freezed to change a course of somebody else's action.

I can still see her eyes wide and filled with horror.
I can still see her mouth half open, grasping for more breath as her organs inside are, twisting and turning, eventually failing her.
I can still see the ungraspable 'living' dissappearing from the whole 'being'.

And I still cannot but think it should have been me, jumping in front of that car to stop it. I'm so terribly sorry I didn't. Forgive me. If you ever can.

not at all here . part 2

So I dream of a small frozen lake far North, hidden among old and tall, yet a bit curled, pine trees. I dream of living underneath the not-so-thin layer of its light blue ice sheet. This way nobody can ever even think to come looking for me. There is underwater snow falling constantly; I just lay at the bottom of the lake and quietly watch it slowly descending on my cold body and bare face as days and nights go by.

not at all here . part 1

Most of the times I walk past all the brightly yellow and purple springing flowers or heavy-scented petals of apple trees flying in the wind, I just really wish to be somewhere completely else. And I wish to be alone.

the daily nihilist no. 3

how can anyone live without ever wondering why did humans come to be on this extraordinarily average planet,

dismissing any further idea because it makes them uncomfortable,

arguing humans should just enjoy life for the sake of living, loving and multiplying

until there's no more place left on this extraordinarily average planet

that humans haven't stripped down of its natural beauty,

until there's nothing left except for bare ground, ashes and dust.

how can one live knowing
any of this also has no meaning

not at all

not to you anyway

'after my blood is drowning in alcohol'

You shouldn't look back; although when you do, rationally, you realise having self-destructive tendencies was bad, twisted mindset. Yet, you can't help but still crave such phase because at least you felt alive.

Also, you know deep down how easy would it be to dive back into self-destruction again, just to feel something or for that matter, not feel at all.

reference of a reference of a reference

The best moments in reading are when you come across something, a thought a feeling, a way of looking at things, that you had thought special, particular to you. And there it is, set down by someone else, a person you have never met maybe even someone long dead. And it's as if a hand has reached out, has come out and taken yours.

- Christopher Pullen in his book 'Gay Identity, New Storytelling and the Media', 2009, quoted from Alan Bennett's book 'The History Boys', 2006

the daily nihilist no. 2

As your bare feet touch the ground for the first time this spring, notice little dew drops hidden among the grass. Stop and move your head in just the right angle for them to reflect the sunlight. For a split of a second, you can catch a flicker of those nature's miniature colourfully gay jewels. With your every look, with every move of your head there are tens of personal pieces of rainbow for you or me to take away in our minds.

For some, it's these stupid little things that make humans happy. For a moment, they make humans forget just how much there's no real purpose in any of our lives, and how nothing wouldn't truly have any value if you didn't write it down.

the daily nihilist no. 1

In last moments before the nuclear bombs hit the ground, social media will look like World of Warcraft chat before server's down for maintenance with no ETA.

from under the sycamore trees

It's been a while.

Since I last wrote and posted something. Since I last told someone how I truly feel. Since I last actually heard little background noise such as rustling of the leaves in a wind. Since I last slept properly and woke up without the urge to scream and to cry because the loud ringing is still in my head.

They say silence is the loudest sound. I bet someone with tinnitus came up with it.

same hate, same love

-on Friday 17^th June 2016

‘Jeez, she was JUST an MP! People die EVERY DAY!’ said the 12y.o. white British boy I look after. It was sunny morning with a bit of cold undertone which makes you shiver after some time and as usual BBC Radio was on with their daily dose of news which my host mum for reasons unknown to me likes to consume together with her bowl of apple porridge. Good morning, aren’t you lucky to wake up alive?

Now this statement of his made me ambivalently upset and pleased at the same time. I chose not to reply to him with anything long or complicated because I wanted him to keep his opinion but I kept on thinking about this topic for most time of the rest of that day. How could I possibly do otherwise anyway?

Let’s start with pleased, shall we? From what I already know about him, his knowledge and feelings but also half from guessing what he meant by these short and sharp sentences is kind of obvious but I can say I’m sure he meant it in a broader and deeper sense. I’m sure he had in mind all those men, women and children refugees fleeing both from Africa and Middle East who weren’t able to make their way to a safer place, all those men and women who stayed in their countries fighting, all those children in Africa dying from combination of hard child labour and hunger, all those being silently murdered by regime in Russia, China or North Korea, all those women around the world dying as a result from rape and so much more. I always mention global issues in our conversations and then just tell him to look up more if he wants to or he doesn’t believe me. So I was really pleased when I heard this as a proof he’s aware of and acknowledging these problems and hopefully even his white privilege. It’s not that bad for a 12 year old, right?

So of course in comparison with all these alarmingly high numbers of deaths happening simultaneously all around the world, this in a way is ‘just one’ of these numbers but there’s something really disgusting about reducing every person into just number of statistics (I’ll get to that later on) or into just few generalizing labels, don’t you think? Probably because then it’s way easier to forget they were living and feeling human beings exactly as we are. And that will always be really efficient for certain someone. We should start thinking and talking about it in a way numbers will become people again.

Now we’re getting to what made me upset which was exactly this way he degraded her whole life to one label and the problem here is she was firstly obviously way more than just an MP which she had have been for around 13 months. A bit more than one year should not define the whole person and neither should their race, gender, sexuality, religion etc. You get the point. She was also a person like him or me or hopefully you - person reading this – in comparison with others very privileged white people but at least we’re aware of global problems. 

And she was not only aware of them but she was also trying her best to do at least something about them. She was trying to do her bit of making the world better place every single day. It’s very easy to look up all the things she did and I highly suggest you do it for yourself if you do not know it already. She deserves few more minutes of your reading, learning and a bit more thinking about the legacy she left for the rest of us. I admit since I’m not that much interested in politics and she was serving MP not even close to my living area I didn’t know anything about her right up until I started noticing the afternoon news pouring in on Twitter. Learning she was such enormously loving and helping woman from her death backwards was and still is shockingly devastating and I honestly hope it will not stop outraging us. It’s a great shame and loss when lives of committed people with such a good heart are so drastically cut short.  

But, as I believe, so there are way too many good people with potential lost among all the others who then are just reduced into a number for statistical argument or a headline. 

Where do we go from here in comparison with other events? Why dismiss talking about her or deaths of 49 LGBTQ people? And what about the classical ‘Things are not serious until white people get killed?’ It’s really obvious you can gather that feeling from the way mass media write about world event or from most of the politicians but that doesn’t necessarily mean this way of caring about world around you just in your personal interest has to be applied in your life as well. It doesn’t have to be this way and personally I think people shouldn’t live in such a bubble. We just need to listen, think and learn more broadly. Why argue about whose lives matter more? We all feel as equally devastated when we lose someone we love. Why shame others for feeling grief out of empathy or compassion when you cannot even know whether that person wasn’t just reminded of someone who they knew or lost? Why shame others for being capable of such basic but very important human emotion as grief or sadness?

I think instead of dismissing it you should use it in a gentle way to remind these people what else is happening around them and make them see everyone is or was somebody else’s significant other; through their own pain make them feel compassion for everyone else as well. Make them remember we’re all the same living beings.

Start with talking about how and who was she helping to. Use this horrible unfortunate example in respect to her life and to open up a conversation and other people’s ears, minds and hearts at least to encourage them to listen more and to see what’s happening beyond their garden’s fence so we can slowly stop this disgusting epidemic of selective hearing in which everybody infected doesn’t want to acknowledge life situations and feelings of people from countries that are further than just his or her own homeland.

...

I dedicate this piece to Jo Cox, incredibly amazing woman who I shall now carefully place among my other female role models and to whom I’ll stay grateful simply for who she was and what she stood for. I can’t even begin to express how sorry I am you gave me the reason to write this but at the same time you gave me courage to eventually say some of what’s on my mind out loud. 

Thank you greatly for confirming my beliefs in better world and goodness in people despite the way you left. 

I’ll never forget you, Jo.

message for our generation

Just a day after my return from Czech Republic - my native country whose social environment has become quite hateful and hostile in lots of ways in the past few years - my boyfriend and I visited a local records shop here in the United Kingdom and as my boyfriend is used to he started to chat with an older salesman behind the till. I kept on browsing through the vinyls but listened very carefully and joined one or two sentences now and then. The important part of his talk kinda started after comparing British young females' drinking habits to other youngsters in Europe. The conversation then shifted from how horribly some British people behave when visiting other countries to what a nonsense the Brexit is in such a time of globalization.
The man started talking about how much he enjoys traveling and seeing different cultures. How important it actually is for him to have a freedom of travel or living abroad. How some members of previous generations didn't have this privilege and how the ones nowadays wanting to close borders or build walls don't actually realize what a privilege that freedom is.
He said he truly believes in our - younger generation because despite our parents' generation somehow we do get it right. Somehow we see doing things the way our parents did is not working or it just doesn't feel right and we're not afraid to do it our own way. Somehow we do realize the importance of freedom and integration of all people and cultures no matter the race, gender, religion or any other factor. He said he puts his faith in our generation because he can see our enourmous determination to change the world for better. He talked about what an undestroyable weapon the internet is in our hands. How hard it is to control both it and us. How awesome it is that you can spread an important message with one click; how one photograph of injustice being done to someone shared all around the world can raise people from their chairs and start a revolution. He believes in us so much because that's exactly what we're doing; during the conversation he called our generation the change-makers several times for we're so often using everyday tools to make others aware, to make a change in other people's thinking and in general. 
He talked about an example how shockingly bad the regime in North Korea is but even there something's already happening - people are determined to risk and smuggle informations in and out. He mentioned how in every other decade when there was some sort of important revolution, it was started or done by the young people and that's why he's got so much faith in our generation. He also said what an important role music played in most of revolutions - though it's often been under a surface - the music and the need to relate to it is greatly important for us regardless of who we are, where we come from or what we do. Music is another powerful weapon in our hands and that's why the most oppressive regimes are so strict about the culture from the outer world - music is dangerous for it connects people so much. Just remember the generation of Woodstock and Vietnam War, Czechoslovakian Velvet Revolution, The Singing Revolution across Baltic states, The Peaceful Revolution that led to the fall of the Berlin Wall and so many more!
It seems to me there's so much more to share with you - I'd like to quote for you the things he said, be able to describe the way he said it or the amount of hope in his voice to encourage everyone who needs it. Because this article's purpose is not to question whether he was right or wrong in his judgements or predictions. All I really wanted was just to pass on his message of encouragement. To pass on his trust in young generation that he puts in all of us around the world. Because when I was in Czech Republic for these two weeks even I felt quite hopeless about current situation to be honest. I really wonder how all of you, dear fellow people of my generation, cope with the hate outpouring from what seems to be like everywhere. I damn right bet you must feel hopeless as well. But it's important to always remember it's not just this one random guy's hope and trust in us. Just think about how many such people are there all around the world and especially in the countries where the oppression, hate or violence is the greatest. Think about what they are putting up with and what they are staying strong and fighting for, trusting us and knowing that younger generation - our generation - will not stay silent and will spread the word until there's a fair share of freedom for everybody. Just keep on doing your thing the best way you can and stay strong.

How could you know?

There are certain traumatic experiences in our lives that we think are necessary for other people to know about. The problem is they are very personal and we actually don't even want to talk about them.

But it could mean hella lot if people just knew. It could mean a little change in people's attitude towards more compassionate behaviour. Our pre-set ignorance only makes the distance between people bigger.

In case it haven't crossed your mind yet, I'm talking about abuse or rape. I'm talking about bullying. I'm talking about domestic violence. I'm talking about sudden death of your loved one. I'm talking about all these things you simply cannot just bring up because it makes people uneasy; they will usually go "Oh..." and then don't know what to say next. Then they want to change the topic as soon as they have a chance. And that's just the best case scenario not mentioning all these know-it-alls.

If only people were less ignorant and less self-centered.

"Till it happens to you

You don't know how I feel"

Nihilism.

Sometimes I just like to not say my opinion out loud.

Sometimes I just like to watch people wondering if my silence means I'm that smart or stupid.

Sometimes I just like to watch people walking away from me.

Sometimes I just like to watch their ground crumble.

Sometimes I just like to watch all things fall apart.

Sometimes I'd just love to watch the whole planet being burnt down into ashes.

Because there's no point in any of this.

Because there's no real truth.

Because you will never truly know me and I don't even want you to.

Because nothing makes sense.

Not even this.

And nothing really matters.

2015 / new content

All you see past this is old content. Obviously.

But it's not that simple. It's just a year or two ago but that's not the point. It just feels that way because I was different person back then. But that's okay. We all regenerate.

Yeah, I tried to stop myself but I can't help making Doctor Who references.

Here's what I mean by that:

We all change, when you think about it. We're all different people all through our lives. And that's okay, that's good, you've gotta keep moving, so long as you remember all the people that you used to be. I will not forget one line of this, not one day, I swear. I will always remember when The Doctor was me.
- The Eleventh Doctor

Summer 1945 / Japan

                                                      2. červenec, Iwakuni

Milý Haruhiro,

děkuju mockrát za pozvání na společně strávené dva týdny prázdnin ve Tvém městě. Bylo pro mě dost těžké přemluvit mamku, aby mě pustila, až moc se o mě bojí. Nakonec ale souhlasila pod podmínkou, že mě budeš se svojí mamkou čekat na nádraží, což jste ale stejně chtěli udělat. Jste super!

Celá tahle záležitost s válkou mě děsně štve. Zajímalo by mě, jaké by to bylo, kdyby nebyla. Co myslíš?

Měj se fajn a pozdravuj doma!

Tvoje kamarádka Akiko

                                                      11. červenec, Iwakuni

Drahý Haruhiro,

děkuju za rychlou odpověď! Občas mě překvapuje, že pošta stále ještě takhle dobře funguje. Mimochodem naprosto s Tebou souhlasím. Jen myslím a doufám, že ta válka nebude trvat tak dlouho, jak říkáš Ty.

Vím, že vlastně nemá cenu odepisovat, protože tenhle dopis k Tobě určitě dorazí později, než přijedu já. Ale nemůžu si pomoct. Mám takovou radost, že nám tenhle plán vyšel a už za 3 dny můžu doopravdy přijet! Dokonce mám i sbalený svůj kufr. Docela dlouho jsem se rozhodovala, které hračky si s sebou vzít. A které knížky Ti přivézt na půjčení. Možná to ještě během těch pár dní přerovnám.

Zato vím, kterou knížku si vezmu na těch pár hodin do vlaku. Také si s sebou vezmu skicák a budu si kreslit. Pak mi řekneš, co si o tom myslíš.

Doufám, že se máš dobře a těšíš se na mě tak jako já na Tebe!

Tvoje téměř návštěvnice Akiko

                                                      29. červenec, Iwakuni

Můj milý Haruhiro,

původně jsem Ti chtěla začít psát dopis na poděkování již ve vlaku na cestě zpátky domů, ale byla jsem tak fajnově unavená, že jsem jen vzpomínala, kolik srandy jsme si užili a nechala se drncáním ukolébat téměř ke spánku. Ale neboj, svojí stanici jsem nezaspala!

Mamka byla moc ráda, že mě vidí a že celá tahle cesta dobře dopadla. Samozřejmě, že se mi po ní taky stýskalo, ale také jsem si hned začala uvědomovat, jak mi chybíš Ty. A že si zas nebudu mít dlouho pořádně s kým hrát. Ne tak dobře, jako jsme si hráli spolu. Byla to strašná sranda. Obzvlášť mě bavily Tvoje objevitelské hry. Myslím, že Tvoje město je doopravdy pěkné a hlavně hodně zajímavé, i když je tam teď všude plno vojáků a tak. Ale kde nejsou, že jo?

Doopravdy moc mi chybíš. Tak mě napadlo, co kdybys během srpna přijel na návštěvu? Moje mamka by Tě jistě moc ráda poznala. Snad to Tvoje mamka dovolí, když moje mě pustila. A to jsem holka.

Odepiš co nejdřív, co si o tom nápadu myslíš!

Poděkuj za mě ještě jednou Tvé skvělé mamce a vyřiď, že mi chybíte. Mějte se dobře!

Tvoje věrná kamarádka Akiko

                                                            6. srpen, Iwakuni

Drahý Haruhiro,

doufám, že Ti přišel můj dopis, který jsem posílala, když jsem dorazila domů. Ve zkratce: děkovala jsem Ti v něm za naprosto super dva týdny prázdnin a pozvala jsem Tě na návštěvu k nám.

Moje město sice není tak velké jako to, na jehož okraji žiješ Ty, ale myslím, že by se Ti tu mohlo líbit. Snad nám někdy mamka dovolí jít se kouknout do přístavu a hrát si u moře. Dej mi vědět, jestli bys měl během příštích pár týdnů čas a kdy bys mohl přijet. My se nikam v srpnu nechystáme, kam taky, že jo.

Přerušila jsem na chvíli psaní kvůli snídani a zrovna, když jsem jí dojedla, stalo se asi něco moc zlého. Omluv, že mám najednou ošklivé písmo, klepe se mi ruka. Slyšela jsem ten nejdivnější a nejstrašnější zvuk v životě a mamka mě zavolala na zahradu. Možná se mi to zdálo, protože jsem z toho ještě teď vyklepaná, ale země se dost silně chvěla. Doteď se snažím pochopit, co jsme to viděly za podivná oblaka kouře. Nevím, co se tam u Tebe stalo, ale moc se o Tebe bojím. Odepiš prosím co nejdřív, že jsi v pořádku!

Tvoje Akiko

After Dark / 1 : 26am / Saturday 5th July

„Between the time the last train leaves and the first train arrives, the place changes; it’s not the same as in daytime.“ – Haruki Murakami

A stejně tak se měníme my. Například já, když překonám počáteční půlnoční únavu, záhy poté přecházím do svého tolik oblíbeného šíleného kreativního stavu. Myšlenky se rozbíhají všemi možnými směry, protože najednou můžou, kam se jim zachce. Nikde není přecpáno lidmi. Jen díky tomuto šílenému stavu jsem byla schopná ustát každou noční směnu, vytvořit povětšinou ty nejlepší z mých uměleckých prací nebo si užívat dlouhé noční cesty autobusem. V noci jsem jiná a neumím to nikomu vysvětlit.

Překračuji bezpečné hranice doby, kdy ostatní mají být a jsou v posteli a jdu dál. S pocitem, že jsem sama, kdo takhle prožívá noc hodinu po hodině až do doby, kdy normální lidé usedají ke snídaním s novinami a nemají tušení, co jsem mezitím stihla. Jaký boj jsem si vybojovala tentokrát. Že jsem opět vydržela a nepodlehla vábení nicotného spánku.

Naposledy, když jsem byla celou noc vzhůru, dělala jsem v Plzni na závěrečné umělecké práci. Počítala tramvaje, jejichž zastávku jsme měli prakticky za rohem. Jenže tramvaje nakonec přestaly jezdit. Byla jsem v naprostém tichu a naprosté tmě naprosto sama. A přestože děsivé myšlenky a představy sice dotíraly na mojí mysl, hluboko uvnitř jsem byla naprosto klidná. Protože vím, že všechny ty negativní myšlenky jsou a vždy budou součástí mne samotné. Baví mě se děsit, abych si následně přísně vyčetla, že se není čeho bát. Jsem to já, rozumím si a chápu se. Toho, co je během noci, se nebojím. Vím a hlavně věřím, že ať se to ticho zdá jakkoliv dlouhé, tramvaje nakonec zase začnou jezdit.

O rok později jsem ve svém vysněném městu u moře ve Spojeném království a poslouchám vlaky, které mají zastávku opět jen o ulici dál. Odepisuji bývalé spolubydlící na dopis a právě jsem jí nakreslila pro srovnání překvapivě podobné půdorysy mých pokojů v Plzni a zde. A už jen za pár hodin bych se měla připravit a jet pěkně doubledeckerem vyzvednout kamaráda do Doveru. Prý je to šílený nápad, zůstávat kvůli tomu celou noc vzhůru. Popravdě s postupem času už nejsem tolik nervní, že se mu něco stane. Zůstávám vzhůru, protože mě to tolik baví. Zmíněná bývalá spolubydla má navíc svojí první noční směnu v rozhlase. Až moc dobře si pamatuji svojí první noční a nezměrnou potřebu po udržení kontaktu s kýmkoliv až do rána.

Tohle vše můžu použít jako pěkně znějící výmluvu k tomu, abych si ve skutečnosti opět prožila celou noc sama se sebou. V noci jsem jiná a neumím to lépe vysvětlit. V noci jsem svá a tak se mám nejradši.