How Do You Know?

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a powerful King. His was a land full of riches, but his pride and joy was the brightest jewel of the Crown. For the King had a son, whose good looks and bravery were only matched by his remarkable wits.


And then, the time came for the King to pass on his Crown and Kingdome, and they sent word to the Far Lands for every Princess in the Whole Wide World to come to the Palace for The Greatest Ball of all, where the Prince would chose his bride.

And thousands of Princesses jumped at the chance, as the fame of the Prince had reached very far. Beautiful, smart, educated, rich, all sorts of Princesses passed by in front of the Prince, in their best dresses, the brightest jewels, setting whole countries and their riches at his feet, yet his heart had not skipped a beat.

Night came, and exhausted, The Prince decided to walk out his disappointment along the paths of his palace’ rose garden. For in the old books in the old library he had read about ‘love’: the most noble of all the feelings, something magical he had never known before. And his noble soul was exhilarated that he would find this ‘love’ and make it his own.


And while he was walking along the red-rosed paths, he passed by the kitchens, where a simple, poorly dressed young woman was helping with the dishes And with the night breeze along came a trail of the Prince’s perfume – and the young woman lifted her eyes, in wonder. Her large, brown eyes opened wide, as they met the eyes of the Prince. And right then and there, the prince-heart stopped beating for a while, and the wind stopped blowing, and the stars stopped blinking, for that was a meeting of souls.


About a second or so later, the Prince came to his senses – and even laughed in his mind at the silly feeling that had dared to trouble his inner peace. Surely this ‘love’ business would prove far too troublesome than he had hoped, and such being the case, the Prince pondered whether in wasn’t far better to abandon his plan. As the important business of the Kingdome were at stake, he could not afford to let ‘love’ mess with his head.

And he hurried back to his quarters, hushing his heart away from the sweet memory of a pair of brown eyes that seemed to have stuck in there. He drank some fine wine, and ate some fancy dinner, and had the clowns and the magicians put on their best show to entertain him; read from his books, had his old deuce tell him his favorite bedtime story, had some more wine, and yet the hours of morning caught him wide awake.

The next morning came over him with a cold breeze when he opened his windows. And there, in the shadows of the old oak trees, a dark silhouette made his heart jump with joy, and troubled his mind with the promise of unwelcome distress.

First he jumped right out, and then hesitated. Gathered up all his strengths, pulled his hands into fists and walked right up to her. ‘Back to the kitchen! his common-sense shouted, yet when he finally spoke, his voice was trembling with desire and a soft, dazzling shiver made him all warm inside. And as the sun rose, a pair of young lovers walked deeper into the gardens, overtaken by the rose smell and their own heart-beats.


But as the new day was taking its rightful place, the Prince felt time was not on his side: the Whole World was waiting for him to make up his mind. Trapped between his duty to his country and the call of his own heart, the Prince was dangling in despair. What should he do? How would he know the best course of action?

And the young woman saw the pain he was going through and did not want to be the cause of it. So she told him, “Don’t worry. I’ll be here tomorrow night, and the night after tomorrow. You do what’s best for the Kingdome, I’ll always be here for you.”

“Listen, answered the Prince, thinking he saw some vague promise of light at the end of his troubles. If you wait for me here, in the garden, every day and every night for a 100 nights and days in a row, I’ll chose you as my bride.”



And so the days and the nights passed by, and the young woman hadn’t move an inch from her bench in the garden, overlooking the Prince’s window. Every now and then, he checked to see if she was still there; had her love for him fated away? Had her determination died out? Rain came down on her, and cold nights tried to frighten her away, but there she stood, firm in her belief, unshaken.

90 days and nights later, she was but a sheer trace of the beautiful, healthy young-woman she used to be. So many un-slept nights, the lack of food, and water, and the cold and the winds had taken a heavy tow over her body. Like a leaf the wind blew her around, but she gathered all her will to stand her ground. And the Prince watched from his window, amazed by her determination, wishing he could find that sort of sureness in his heart.



And the 99th night came, and the Prince spent it at his window, still wondering, still not quite sure what to do, what he wanted, looking at the now skinny, ill-looking woman shaking out in the cold; half impressed, half bemused by her stubbornness. She was hardly any prize at all, in her cheap cloths, over her bony, fragile, pale body, with her once bright brown eyes half closed – hardly a match to any of the rich, beautiful Princesses awaiting for him in the Throne Hall. Surely, she was no Queen material.

And as he was lost in his thoughts, with the first light of the 100th day, his eyes caught some surprising movement in the garden. Trembling with all her joints, the woman rose for the first time in almost 100 nights and days, and looked up at the Prince, tears wearing down her face, clouding up her eyes. He rushed to open his window and as he looked down, their eyes met once more. Only this time, not a single star moved in the sky.

And as the Prince stared in disbelief, the young woman turned around and walked away.




After a story in the Cinema Paradiso, a film by Giuseppe Tornatore

You’re Nobody ‘till Somebody Loves You

I met the most gorgeous man one evening; 38, never married, hasn’t had a steady girlfriend in ages. Terribly smart, perceptive; very polite; very funny too. Flirtatious to the bone. Shameless. With that boyish playfulness that I find so irresistible (until it turns to selfishness and irresponsibility.)


So what’s wrong with you? I ask him – half mocking him, half wandering. He looks straight into my eyes, hardly containing his delight. Hold on my heart, I think to myself. Was it a trap? Did I fell right in?
No, seriously, I recompose myself. If you’re so darn perfect, how come nobody wants you? How come you’re so alone?

I’m not, he says smiling. I’m with you.


Right, I gulp. Silly me.
He’s playing with me and he’s better at this game than I’ll ever be. I stumble. I feel my way in the dark. He’s enjoying himself. I should pull back. That twinkle in his eyes spells trouble – he’s a swindler, a playboy, the wrong kind of man for me to play with. Not again. What was I thinking?

Only … I wasn’t playing. I was honest (alright: and naïve) – and it took like forever to get him serious about it, into my territory. And a bottle of wine. And when he starts talking he stops looking me in the eyes.


He’s happy with his life – just the way it is. He loves his job, his dog, and the fact that ‘nobody tells him what to do’. He’s ‘the lord of his mansion’ – comes and goes as he pleases. No one to answer to. He’s free to enjoy his life to the fullest. Every moment of it. No regrets. No looking back. No complications.

I listen in silence. I know, by the hesitation in his voice, that it’s been a long time since he actually talked to someone. If ever. No games, no charades, just him. I get that a lot. I recognize it by the butterflies in my stomach.

Hours into the night, the story of his life pours out. Bits and pieces, like a puzzle coming together, to complete the image I was so curious about. Stories of loss, unfelt grief, of betrayal, of being let down, left behind, hurt, unloved. He says he’s fine, and I hear the words. Yet they tell a different story in my heart – one of such a terrible, hopeless sadness, of deeply buried emotions, unspoken fears. Lost Faith. A story of complete, self-imposed, self-protective loneliness. And even though it looks like he’s reaching out to me – he’s so far away that I can barely touch him.


By his way of life, the whole thing would’ve ended (gloriously) with sex, thus restoring the order of things - to make him safe - to get me back to my rightful place: that of a toy, a dolly he’s playing with for the night. I’m supposed to turn into a ‘complication’ by day-light. I get the point, only too well. But I don’t like playing Barbie.

And there’s no button to push to make me ‘happy’ again, after everything he’s told me. It weights heavily on my soul. I feel all the pain he’s ignoring. And I feel like crying. His un-cried tears; the ones that drawn his dreams into a puddle of repressed despair and anger.

But there’s no way I can make him see. He’s already made up his mind, and he has the perfect theory to back him up. The fit words to hide the pain, and the fear. And the brains to defend it ever again, against every argument I could think of.

And yes … I could've stayed. (I would've; I wanted to) I could've found a way to accept that tiny place in his life he’d prepared for me. But I know that, at best, he would pretend this never happened. He would never look me in the eyes again. All these… ‘things’ he’s told me - only to re-enforce The Fact that he’s Just Fine. He’d get even better at his game – to better show me that he doesn’t need me, or anything.


And the truth is … I don’t want to be needed. I don’t want to be ‘strong’ for you. I don’t want to pretend I don’t care. I don’t want anybody else’s tears – I’ve got my own. And I’ve got my own fears to struggle with, and my own faith to keep.

And if you are reading this – I hope you’ll forgive me for walking out like that. And there are no words in the world to reason our way around it. I know you think I’m very smart, but that’s not how I chose to live my life. Mine is the way of the heart. Since you have no respect for your own feelings – how could you respect mine?

To you it was just a game; but I was falling for it. And it’s not fair, you see. You can do this with anybody – you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

But I would.

A song by Frank Sinatra and Judy Garland. "You're nobody 'till somebody loves you, so find yourself somebody to love!"

Catch Me When I Fall

Yes, yes! I know: Don’t. Look. Down.

Trapped. No way out. What do I do? What do I do? I can’t breath in here. My heart ... is like trying to beat its way out of my chest. I press my hands against it: calm down.

Calm. Down. Breath. Gently. Here-we-go. I can do this.

Sure I can. I know I can. One step at-a-time. Here-we-go. I can do this.

Oh God. Oh God. I don't know if I can do this. I don't think I can. Wait. Waait! I'm not sure. I’m not sure.

falling for - falling asleep - falling under - falling through- falling apart - falling away - falling in - faling off - falling out - falling behind - falling down - falling back

falling "1: suddenly losing an upright position; 2: decreasing in amount or degree; 3: becoming lower or less in degree or value; 4: coming down freely under the influence of gravity"

WordNet ® 2.0, © 2003 Princeton University

“We have art to save ourselves from the truth.” Nietzsche

what I've tried for myself - and works. read the whole "so you want to be creative?' by hugh macleod here

1. Ignore everybody. (YES!)

2. The idea doesn't have to be big. It just has to change the world. (you and me, baby! you, me, and the power-puff girls)

4. If your big plan depends on you suddenly being "discovered" by some big shot, your plan will probably fail. (don't wait for some else to say you're 'great'; this is a chance you'll have to take)

7. Keep your day job. (I know; this is not what i did; but I'm not the best example to follow; honest! I got away with so many things in my life... the risks I take are always planned, I know myself well, and I'm lucky... I haven't made this work yet)

8. Companies that squelch creativity can no longer compete with companies that champion creativity. (yeah, sure...aaah... that's why i resigned.. i couldn't take the constant pressure to be creative, inventive, smart; maybe we'll get there someday)

9. Everybody has their own private Mount Everest they were put on this earth to climb. (told ya so; see this and this :-)

11. Don't try to stand out from the crowd; avoid crowds altogether. (it's a figure of speach, dip-wit! it doesn't mean you're 'better' than everybody else, just that you need to do your own thing : just because lots of people do something, doesn't make it a good idea; actually...)

12. If you accept the pain, it cannot hurt you. (aaah: very zen, or something; No, not really. pain is pain whichever way you take it: it will hurt. but, take it like a wo/man. don't run cos the it will only stab you in the back - and that hurts even more)

14. Dying young is overrated. (but, as I said, it makes me warm inside knowing I'll always have a Plan B; of course, you wait till the next morning. always wait...)

16. The world is changing. (no kidding)

17. Merit can be bought. Passion can't .

18. Avoid the Watercooler Gang. (i.e. people who tell you to 'calm down', 'take it easy', 'get back in line'.... tell them to fuck off - my way; they don't take it well; and then I have second-thoughts about it ... maybe they're right, why fix if it ain't broken? why change at all?.... or, you can try the gogu kaizer way)

21. Selling out is harder than it looks. (not sure about this one; i guess you need to offer something of value)

22. Nobody cares. Do it for yourself. (... or do it for me, if it makes you feel any better; they don't care)

26. Write from the heart. (yes: it's your emotions that will come through and win your public over; they don't care about what you say...)

27. The best way to get approval is not to need it. (yap. i stil need it. badly - that's why you are the only one reading this)

28. Power is never given. Power is taken. (this is a dangerous, two ways sword - in the wrong hands (ethics) ... yes, 'm looking at You, hitler-wannabe!)

29. Whatever choice you make, The Devil gets his due eventually. (they do say that money is evil; so if you starve to death...; only trying to help here...)

...

very important:

bette davis said that "the hardest thing to do when you are successful, is finding someone to be happy for you".

It's a good thing to make really sure who your friends are (before you get there): people who like / love you for who you are, not what you can do. When gods fall, their fans simply chose other gods to worship.


Something I learned the hard way: in the most important moments of your life, you are always alone.

If you had it ALL, where would you put it?

I'm under siege. And deep down I fear that maybe I should be ashamed to complain about being offered ‘free’ stuff. But, I can't trust something that just pops right into my arms; something I never even asked for.

Call me ungrateful and suspicious, but I believe that nothing really worthy comes for free. Anything of real importance in life must be earned. Sometimes I feel like I stand alone in this line.

My mum buys about 5 magazines weekly, and even though I’ve told her many times that they’re crap, she’s very determined to share. And for some unexplaned reason, I can’t say ‘no’ to women’s magazine.

It takes me about 5 minutes to go through 50-some pages… usually. Today, I stared for a long 30 seconds at page 43, moved on, but then returned to make sure I got it right: the unbelievable promise made by the “great unique lady” who calls herself Eva Gabor.

“As you can easily see, her face reflects devotion and love for fellow humans” (what I could see was this old lady pointing at me with what must have been a seductive, luscious stare; rather strange for her years).

“she’s decided to offer her exceptional help to this magazines’ readers” (lucky us, eh?)

“she can transform anyone’s life into a fabulous destiny”. ANYONE’s!!! anyone’s ?!? aah… why such disbelief in your eyes? Patience! Patience! There’s more!

You see... because "she’s aware of her tremendous powers", she’s doing all this for free! That’s right, you’ve read correctly. You get “5 money-wishes fulfilled for free, before the end of this year!” (am I the only one who feels the irony here? Free Money?!?)

All you have to do, is chose which 5 wishes you want. Hard work, you-bet! why? Here… see for yourself:

Wish no.1 win a large amount of money.
Wish no.2 win the jack-pot at lottery
Wish no.3 get an important salary bonus
Wish no.4 win a free house or a free car
Wish no.5 win at least 1 million lei (~30 euros)
Wish no.6 get a regular income, for life
Wish no.7 get your dream-job
Wish no.8 be lucky at any games
Wish no.9 become the owner of a house or apartment
Wish no.10 get a money gift from someone rich
Wish no.11 win at a casino
Wish no.12 get an unexpected inheritance
Wish no.13 be invited at the palace (?!)
Wish no.14 meet a rich and famous man/woman
Wish no.15 meet the important men of the world
Wish no.16 travel to the most beautiful places of the world
Wish no.17 marry someone rich.

I’m curious: does anyone ever not chose Wish no.2?? I mean – the jackpot is usually into millions of euros…. You’ll buy yourself everything else, afterwards… right?!? And you pick the other 4 wishes just for laughs…

I bet you’re just dying to know which magazine offers this once-in-a-life-time opportunity, eh? A worry-free life, from now on… who’d say “no”…

Well… err....I’m not saying… I’m keeping this for myself – me and the other 200 readers of this magazine. I'd tell you , but... you see… this stuff is “100% FREE AND GUARANTEED”… once you've chosen the 5 wishes, there’s no going back!

I’m not sure if it is at all possible that we all win the lottery (by this year's end), but I know this: if we’d all have everything we dream of, it would stop being a dream… if we’d all have “fabulous lives”, ‘fabulous’ would translate into ‘ordinary’. Life would be such a bore. Imagine, the horror: we’d have nothing to wish for!

hei! i'm doing you a favor!
This damned woman is taking our dreams away from us! For free.

"Destin" e un cuvant ce are sens doar in nenorocire, Cioran

I believe in karma.

it’s based on the assumption that the Soul reincarnates several times, taking along the journey whatever lesson it learns.

It implies that one cannot run away from the consequences of one’s actions. They follow you around, from one life to the next. Sooner or later, you will pay your dues!

Another implication that I find particularly exciting is that the whole bouncing from one life to the next has an educational purpose: this is how a Soul learns - lives are but opportunities to try on different personalities, different perspectives. And thus, each life has its own lesson(s).

Karma is directly connected to the lessons. If they hurt, it’s not about punishment. It’s about learning things you don't know (yet). Things you need to learn in order to move on to the next level. To grow. To get closer to 'everything'.

The things connected to your lessons – people, situations, problems – they keep showing up in your life, repeatedly, until you take notice, until you “get it”, until you learn. These are the patterns in your life; look for them, ask yourself: what am I missing here? what is this trying to teach me?

Naturally, people are lazy, and prefer comfort, and easy ways (out). They tend to shun away from responsibilities and difficulties, they shun away pains, avoiding them, pretending them away. Well, they don’t go away because these “difficulties” are the reason you are “here”. And they're meant to be ...well, "difficult".

There is such a thing as “accumulation of karma” – meaning that a specific lesson has been avoided several lives, too many lives: and the time is up. Yes, there is a time schedule. And things get worse as your time runs out. At some point, karma takes over, forcing you to face the issues you are avoiding. You cannot run forever (maybe a few lives). You can live in the moment - only for so long. Like it or not, all these moments are like a huge puzzle (i.e. your life), and they are connected (their connection is you).

The good news is that your Soul also takes along the lessons you do learn in previous lives: your dharma. Your accomplishments, your gifts, your knowledge. The Jack in your sleeve, the stuff you can depend on in your new learning experience.

I know: it's a such a drag to even consider such posibilitie ...but then, consider the alternative.

it's hard to translate Cioran... it says that -"destiny' is a word which only makes sense when you're feeling down, miserable, hopeless.")

Lie To Me

Tip of the Week by yours truly, Love Tactics!

“Even though it’s natural to want to spill your guts to somebody when you like them, do NOT be telling them all the negative things in your life and all your dirty little secrets.

Don’t talk about your insecurities and weaknesses.

It only contributes to the loss of their respect for you, which is essential for the falling in love process to occur.”

~ Tom McKnight

w h a t a l o a d o f c r a p !

withholding the truth is a lie;

an incomplete truth is also a lie.

since when honesty makes for loss of respect? respect for whom? a lier? a pretender? a coward?

and WHO would you be in love with, anyhow, not knowing them for who they really are? (super-man /super-woman?)

magic happens when a soul opens up to another.

what this guy is talking about is a magic-show (david copperfield would be proud of).

yeess! sure you can trick someone into falling in love with you (the nice, enhanced, beautiful, perfect, "you") - but that would be a lie. and lies...

they tend to turn back into froggs faster then you can fake a "true-love's kiss"