games and rules

Abba asked "What's the name of the game?" although everybody knows it. I's love, it's LIFE. It is a strange incomprehensible board game without instructions.
And it's a roller-coaster ride you are never ready for, and Oh no, you forgot to put the seat-belt on.
The winner takes it all? - If love is surrender, whose war is it anyway?

Even when there are no players, there is always a game. Since nobody ever knows the rules, we just randomly run around in circles trying out suitable strategies. Or trying to predict the moves of our opponent. Cause even when we are playing to win another person, we are always opponents.
There is always a subordinate, always the strong and the weak.
The balance continously shifts, back and forth...back and forth.
Like the rate of inflation,the balance is determined largely by the prediction of its course. The expectation of a shift in balance might well be the actual cause of it.

games that never amount to
more than they're meant
will play themselves out.

and these dreams keep you awake


Yes it is true that I complain a lot about things that don't really matter in the end. It is ungrateful and, frankly, a little spoiled. So I think it is important to take a moment and think about all those things- big or small- that makes life beautiful and magical...
I Love;

* Being swept away

* A poem that hits me right in the heart

* Summer rain

* The moment when the walls come down and real feelings are shown

* A real affectionate glance

* The scent of vanilla

* Friendship over all

* Sharing secrets with someone I trust

* Daydreaming

* The excitement of opening a new book

* Thinking in other languages

* Tthe taste of chocolate

* Everyday magic

* The amazing power of a kiss

special things for special people?

That thing about good things happening to good people, it is just not true. What is it that gives some people the right to judge others with no proof and no knowledge?!

Ignorance really is the infection of mankind!!!

sometimes I guess you need to be on the edge to feel the reality of things. To really feel something we must sometimes put ourselves in strange, seemingly artificial and crazy situations.
The truth is just under the surface and in everyday life we've learnt to repress it I guess. When we are exessively tired, depressed, drunk or just feeling weird it starts sipping out, drop by drop. This is when the really interesting things see the light. Last night was no exception.

A "wise" man once told me that i shouldn't worry about finding love.
That special people just take longer time because they need to find another special person to fall in love.
He never understood that he was my special someone, but still he made me think about it.
As things just seem to work out so easily for so many...the easiest thing is to just believe that I am Special.

Tu choisis quoi une love story de première ou d'seconde classe?

Il y a ceux pour qui les trains sont toujours en grèves,
Et leurs histoires d'amour n'existent que dans leurs rêves,
Et y'a ceux qui foncent dans le premier train sans faire attention,
Mais forcément ils descendront dessus à la prochaine station,
Y'a celles qui flippent de s'engager parce qu'elles sont trop émotives,
Pour elles c'est trop risqué de s'accrocher à la locomotive,

(when will we be) New Skin

If I don't write it, there is nothing. If I can't feel it, what is it?

A piece is missing, but does it matter? There is still joy, laughter and excitement even in the broken picture.
Is it really so easy to just cut something out of your life? Carv the wound from the infected limb to make it all better?
What if the wound is a person? Would you cut it out, cut it off??

And what if the infection is already in my blood.
I can't see straight, can't think clear, I'm stultified.
Can't settle, can't slow down.
Won't accept anything other than what I set out to get.
Even if I destroy the goodness that's left.

no association

Forget about Mars or Venus.. it is all about brain capacity and the ability of association.

There is no real need to comment on this.

Erase! Replace!

Someone ,somewhere, once said the worst thing about being dumped is the knowledge of that the person in question rejected you. He saw you- got to know you and then -(kindly) declined.
Kind of like trying out some new food that looks delicious only to spit it out seconds later cause it's completely inedible.

yeah, I like using over-exaggerated allegories for my personal benefit.
I'm entitled I think. I'm a woman, analyzing is my second-order profession.

this is the outcome where TR>TC

As a very wise friend told me, (and as learnt from economics) each decision should be based on the cost-benefit-principle. There is no such thing as a MUST. Benefits must always exceed the costs...that is explicit AND implicit costs.
So, DO THEY? Psycological and emotional costs are indeed high in this specific case. But I suspect the eventual and hypothetical benefit would be quite high as well. And in time there might be positive externalities that I will not mention, and should not even speculate about. (Bad sophia!)

here we have classical example of TC>TR. what I want to avoid.

A vision
An action
A reaction

scarsity principle (yesterday is a wrinkle on your forehead)

Anticlimax. Big Time.
It's like the brain and body don't know what to do with themselves.
I'm trying to stimulate at least the former, by posing it hypothetical problems
(sometimes I want a little Latin linguistics in the English language and where there is none I just infuse it)

Though I am not, as a certain someone helpfully pointed out, a homus economicus,
it is my current objective to take all the economic theories and information crammed in
my brain and make something out of it. Something enjoyable.
So I am creating the Economics of Relationships and today I started thinking about the scarsity principle.
If you choose one thing that means discarding another. I guess here it applies to the choice to make a committment. Gaining a lover, losing your freedom? Of course the opportunity cost differs for everyone, that's obvious. So, there really is no general way to solve the equation of choice:

C <3=  L (hope)/-opportunity (0.5)+risk


Oh baby don't you know I suffer?
Oh baby can't you hear me moan?
You caught me under false pretences
How long before you let me go?

...You set my soul alight

I thought I was a fool for no-one
Oh baby I'm a fool for you
You're the king of the superficial
And how long before you tell the truth

You set my soul alight
Glaciers melting in the dead of night
And the superstars sucked into the supermassive
Supermassive Black Hole
Supermassive Black Hole.

my emotional threshold is highly inelastic.

Looking at the world upside-down sometimes can be quite useful.
Strange to think how different it all seems, when, really, it is only the world you always see
- it just looks like another one.

It's like the feeling when you wake up one morning after the worst night of your life.
and realize it actually DOES feel a little bit better and maybe the sky isn't going to fall down.
After all, it could always be worse.


Putting things in perspective and speaking about worse....
Today's the count-down to the infamous Microeconomics Exam.
Yes it deserves double capital letters.
It is just that terrifying.
However, there is not anything at all that can get me down if I walk out of that exam having passed it.
Of course, that is a physical and theoretical impossibility.
See my point?

still your passenger

Here I lay
Still and breathless
Just like always
Still I want some more
Mirrors sideways
Who cares what's behind
Just like always
Still your passenger

Drive faster
Roll the windows down
This cool night air is curious
Let the whole world look in
Who cares who sees anything
I'm your passenger

Just a Presentiment

"One day it was decided to call Love a set of strange, indescribable phenomena, is it pain?- But from the moment that the name is given to that burning in one's breast, the violence of the strangeness is interrupted and the ancient horror, hidden behind the new word, begins to be forgotten."

I am torn between the binary opposites again.
To force the inevitable or to laissez-faire, that is the real question.

Is it ever enough to just be. To just feel. To just do?
Or must everything to be planned, structured and heading somewhere predetermined?
Something inside me is yearning for reckognition,
Yet I can't break out of this mysterious nebulosa in which I've enclosed myself.
All this talk about social construction.
When it is really only my own perversly constructed obstacles that I am struggling to overcome.

"If thoughts and words were edible, I'd suffer from enormous obesity"

These words by Hélène Cixous have been my guide for quite some time and only now do I realize they are completely false.
Yes, I am full of words and thoughts but they aren't coming out.
When confronted with a situation, they are unmistakenly gone missing, I  cannot seem to find a single one.
It's like that story about the narrator with his head so full of quotes that he uses his notes to build a fort for his own protection.
I don't want to be that narrator any longer. I don't want to feed on thoughts.
I want to wash my face in truth and I wish the free air was as easy to use as a lined paper-sheet.

homage to language

If only we listen, a language always speaks several languages at once;
and runs with a single word in opposite directions.

Language is an arbitrary and funny thing. It's the source of all that we are today and yet it is a constant obstacle to what we could be. Curse and blessing at once.
There is no way for us language-nerds to describe to you commoners how it feels to be immersed in a foreign language. Yet, I will make an attempt...

The process of it is a beautiful evolution in your brain.
 At first there is nothing. Nothing but strange words, randomly flying about in a disordinary fashion in the universe inside your head. You think there is no way they are ever going to make sense,
let alone fit together and create sentences, stances, songs!
Then one day you find yourself speaking one of them. It has obstinately gotten stuck somewhere inside your cells and found its way to your mouth. Struck by awe you try to retrace your steps.
-How do I know this word? - When did I learn it? - Why did I use it?
And here comes the most amazing part... You just Don't Know! The word was just there in the right place at the right time. Cause you have unconsciously collected, organized and categorized every single word that you've heard, seen and registered since you started learning the language. And  at some point they just start overflooding your left brain lobe and spill out without your slightest effort.
I dont know what I can compare it to in order to make you understand..I guess you mathemathicians (Do I know any of those..?) might feel the same once you finally grasp the concept of a really tricky formula and start using it and the numbers seem to be jotted down on the page almost by themselves.

Language is a lot like math I guess. It is a system that must be broken down, organized and understood. But when you get it, the possibilities are endless and the things you conjure have no limit except for the sky.

you'd think the world would have had enough of silly love songs.

Let me begin by saying what I mean
It's a crime against the heart you know
To be somewhere in between

Cause lately you make me weaker in the knees
And race through my veins, every time you're close to me
Take me away to places I ain't seen
They say you've got a hold on me....
And I Won't Disagree

Cause I've got the feeling
You'll be needing love
And of all the lonely hearts
You're the one I'm thinking of

(I look around me and I see it isn't so, Oh No)

not like the others

Keep you in the dark
You know they all pretend
Keep you in the dark
And so it all began

Send in your skeletons
Sing as their bones go marching in... again
The need you buried deep
The secrets that you keep are ever ready
Are you ready?
I'm finished making sense
Done pleading ignorance
That whole defense

What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
You're the pretender
What if I say that I'll never surrender?

In time or so i'm told
I'm just another soul for sale... oh, well
The page is out of print
We are not permanent
We're temporary, temporary
Same old story


Yo ya no soy yo.
por lo menos yo no soy el mismo yo interior.

Can't you see your dreams are in the Palm of you Hand?

Why is it so difficult to change the way we approach things. Just a minor alteration of attitude proves almost an inconceivable task. Or is that just me being stubborn and obstinate?
I know most things would be so much easier if we could only look at them in a different way. If we would let things happen in their own time. No judgement and no expectations.

As I was told today as somebody Read my Palm;
I am a creative thinker with plenty of emotional trauma.
This pretty much sums up who I am I guess. Though it might sound like an attractive combo,
let me tell you that Creative does not alloy well with Thinking.
Put together, these two words can make anyone break their back to keep sane.
The emotional trauma is just icing on the cake... or crumbles on the carpet!

Sophia betyder visdom...

"När jag sökte efter min skatt var varje dag fulländad,
för jag visste att var stund utgjorde
en del av drömmen om att finna någonting.

artwork/Catalina Estrada/

I am a mosaïque

Ne me quitte pas, Il faut oublier
Tout peut s'oublier, Qui s'enfuit déjà
Oublier le temps
Des malentendus
Et le temps perdu, a savoir comment
Oublier ces heures, qui tuaient parfois
A coups de pourquoi, le cœur du bonheur
Ne me quitte pas

This is no nostalgic MOPING. It is simply a reflection of the drôle du destin that has led me to this point.
The picture above showing one of these moments so decisive in the path towards my current Life.
All mistakes happen for a reason. All good things end to give way to other good things.
Every failure has given me things that helped me along the journey.

Every single person that crossed my path has left a little piece of themself in me.
I am a mosaïque of former lovers and friends.

ps. Nenze don't worry. This is not about him.ds

real friends forget their own problems to obsess about yours

nothing brings happiness like a midnight walk with two crazy girls whom I am proud to count among my best friends.
thanks again amigas!!!! I'm there for you anytime*

I am not open, parts of me are broken

Outside confidence is king
I am all that you're projecting
Inside feel the rising tide
And the revolution's deafening

I was trying to hide my opposing side
Trying to reconcile my Jekyll and Hyde

Ladies and gentlemen listen up please
I don't want to be your hero
(No, I am not open parts of me are broken)
Do yourself a favor
Save yourself
Don't pick me find someone else
(Why'd you want to bother find yourself another)

Sometimes you put all of your desires in an object of affection
But in time because you idolise there is only disappointment

I was flying so high in your perfect sky
But I needed to fall, cannot have it all

late night pilgrimage


Last night I dreamed that I met Paulo Coelho. 
I was walking the Camino de Santiago without any shoes and suddenly, there he was.
In the flesh! I can't quite remember what we talked about but it was a great feeling.

The last 24 hours have been characterized by inner turmoil and I can really need Coelho's wisdom right now.

je veux seulment oublier et puis je fume

je ne suis pas ta chose
la fille sur qui tu poses tes mains

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