Jubjub, Bandersnatch and toves

By hagi - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Journal

Monday, March 24, 2008

Cure to misanthropy

is something like this: people are meant to be mean. They have to be arrogant, righteous, egoistic, they have to think only of themselves. It's survival; a survival of a single person which grants the survival of species. People are meant to kill each other when they feel that resources are scarce;... Sign in to see full entry.

Sunday, March 23, 2008

A snowy, snowy Easter

It's snowing today, and we heard a thunder, too. Our car was in a inch-deep snow when we went home from my mother in law's. Ol' good Earth is probably trying to shake us off for good. On the other news, I deleted my public blog in Latvia today. Because I'm a goddamn misanthrope. And it shows. Is... Sign in to see full entry.

Saturday, March 22, 2008

As I don't exactly have a religion,

(that "agnostic pantheist" in my profile is more a joke than serious conviction), so I have no rituals at all to follow - of course, I paint eggs, or, more exactly, boil them in onion skins, and have willow catkins (what? Are they really called in such a strange name in English?) at home and I even... Sign in to see full entry.

My father

Today I met him... Thanks to WileyJohn - the other side of the father-daughter relationship story he told -, I managed to be quite nice. We almost got into heated argument twice, but somehow my "yes, dad, you have a valid point and I'd be happy if I could follow your advice" cooled things down a... Sign in to see full entry.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Death through child's eyes

When my mother died a year ago, I did my best to explain what has happened to my four years old son, Jonathan. I'm proud to say I did a pretty good job - he accepted his granny's death as a natural thing which is neither scary or tragic (I believe this is how one should relate to death: as a natural... Sign in to see full entry.

We're waiting for change (V.Tsoi)

It's winter in here. The ground is covered with soft layer of white snow, and tiny snowflakes are wandering absentmindedly in the air. On a days like this I think the earth must be hurt and tired, for why else should it be bandaged with this sparkling cotton, this fine gauze? In the bus, the driver... Sign in to see full entry.

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