sim sala falafel!

As most of you know I am not a chef. My sister is the cook and I am the kidney-beans-eater.
But I love exotic food and my most recent purchase is a box of "falafel-mix" to make my own falafels.
Extremely ambitious for me.
Well yesterday I tried it out and nearly killed me and my sister in the process.
Death by smoke invasion!

note to self: frying stuff in a normal pot is not recommended.
Frying stuff in a normal pot with a ventilator that barely works is worse.
And frying stuff in a normal pot with a dysfunctional ventilator and a cat preventing you from opening the door.
That's the top!

The falafel was GREAT though...

And preparing for an exciting week.
Meeting about near-future career prospects,
decision about board meetings and kick-offs and other interesting events.
Also, new course and more interviews.

happy go lucky

I am confused as to how I should formulate my words now.
I have left the dark side behind me, in order to become "bright and shiny",
but writing about unrequited love, taking advantage and suffering is what I do best.
Perhaps it isn't talent, but a state of mind.

Does that mean I am incapable of writing bright and shiny words?
I need the black to color my writing, to paint the whole picture.

Happiness doesn't need a tour de force to explain it.
It is just there.
But I still need to write.

family getaway

Mami and papi came to wish me happy birthday and buy me and sistah lots of lovely food!
See proof here below.... (Exhibit 1)

It was great being the whole family in our little (smelly) flat
during this weekend marked mostly by rain, aforementioned smell and huge intake of "nutrition".

Mum here shows that the color of this weekend was green....
(and mood: Happy!)

Although (Exhibit 3) shows no evidence of food,
it does display new and astonishing facts about the nature of our sisterhood.
Siamese twins?!

Huge contrast, now the house is completely empty and I am sharing a cup of coffee with lurven
(me drinking, she watching= sharing)
Weekend schedule to be made before movie begins.
Efficiency here we go. And ambition, here we continue!

here's my coldest shoulder

Domesticate me

To me, you are still only a boy, just like a hundred thousand other boys.
And I have no need of you.
And you in turn have no need of me.
To you, I'm just a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes.
But if you tame me, then we shall need each other.
To me, you shall be unique in the world. To you, I shall be unique in the world.
You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.

- Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Trying so hard not to fall asleep

Here I am.
Maybe not 18 floors, but high enough.
Walking a tight-rope between clever innovation and worn out vintage.
I wish you would wear my affection as a scarf around your neck
But I fear that you will wear me out, leave me behind like an old glove.

What's the difference?

perhaps it is vanity. am I vain enough to assume you will understand me?
No. so I go on puzzling over new joints for words, hoping that this time,
one piece will slide smooth against the next.

Princ(ipl)e of illusion

Machiavelli argued that a great ruler must understand the illusions that people create in order to successfully reap the fruits of them. The Prince could then continue pretending to give the people what they thought they were getting, all the while pursuing his own agenda. Minimized input, maximized output.

Whether African masai, fading plant or Machiavellian Prince; it's all the same.
I am changing the stories to fit, cause I am the story.
You are the story, but you aren't changing.

So, what am I? Picked up, tasted, put down.
I am thrown out, cast away, reinstalled, tried out, disapproved of, replaced, brought back, forgotten.
I am remembered, needed, wanted, needed, I am too much.
I am here, always here. Where are you?

What have I become?
A plant who needs no water or sunlight, just put me in a dark room and leave me.
I need no oxygen, no nutrition and I never die.
I am frozen in time and when you pick me up again
I will blossom.

inevitable nostalgia (should be..)

all things pass.
/Si tout zappe et lasse
les amours aussi passent/
some things are in a state of seemingly constant passing
as if losing once wasn't quite enough
and I should be reminded over and over.

t-t-t-t-tell me what am I supposed to dooo...

True dat

Callimaco: Siro, non ti partire, i' ti voglio un poco.
Siro :Eccomi.
Callimaco: Io credo che tu ti maravigliassi assai della mia subita partita da Parigi; ed ora ti maravigli, sendo io stato qui già un mese sanza fare alcuna cosa.
Siro :Voi dite el vero.

(c) Niccolò Machiavelli

from perception to imagination

Reading about people who challange the social and scientific norms and end up making ground-breaking contributions to the world. And most interestingly, about why certain people can do that and some can't.
Different perceptions of the world.
Different brain functions.
Extraordinary bravery.

Great read for anyone who wants to be inspired, amazed and learn about neurology, neuroeconomics and sociology with a twist of entrepreneurship.

What did the farmer say to the green pumpkin?..."Why orange you orange?"......

I am ready for autumn.
Jack Savoretti and Blue October.
Melancholy, candle-light and the River of Transcendence.
Hot Kepler's IQ-tea from Madame Wu's.
and Jeanette Winterson,

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