Extravagant, grand opening

In the blink of an eye

The curtains fade.

No trace is left

Of crimson, velvet blinds.

Existence on Earth,

Spiritual, profound, connected to nature

Becomes, yet, another show!

A play enacted

In a grand theatre.

The opening is announced.

Hypnopaedia charms,

Spectators swarm.

A show on Broadway!

Except no! No, it’s not!

A most novel spectacle

From the stages of Shanghai

Diffused into the world.

Ladies with no speck of ingenuity

Gents with no signs of originality

Parade, dine and engage

Amongst Gucci bags, MacBooks

Porsches, Dior lipsticks.

Stuff and fluff,

In a city of things

A world of things.

They swallow and choke

Embrace and absorb

The concrete, the technology,

Designer goods, skyscrapers,

The latest trends, online shopping

Michelin stars restaurants.

Ladies and gentlemen,

Please swallow and choke

Buy, consume, dispose!

Come back for more!

Theatre plays of your own creation

From Shanghai to the world.

The Earth is drowning!

Suddenly, a mise-en-scene effect,

Sighs of superficiality

Sighs of materialism.

The planet is shrieking

And with it,

Some lost, rare souls.

The grand opening

Of extravagant materialism

Is a sociopathic murderer

The offspring of capitalism…

 

50 shades of deviance

DVM78_3

 

Dear Sir/Madam, 

 

Are you politically correct?

Do you blame migrants?

Do you endorse the death penalty?

Are you pragmatic?

A Kantian at heart?

Selfish to the bone?

Composed and analytical?

 

Do you have a fetish for norms?

Of the country, of the culture

Of society, of community

Of the nation-state, of the leaders

Of your group, of your partner

Of your inner consciousness? 

 

Are you a career builder?

A pursuer of wealth and reputation?

A creator of acquaintances

But never deeply rooted friendships?

A pretender, 

Someone who feigns to 

Like debates, freedom of thought

Noir art, cooperation

Quirkiness and consensus

Insurgent ideas, innovation

Tough fights

The best fights for causes

Worth the blood

The pain, the tears

Your own skin and bones.

 

Your PR developed persona

Hides in the closet.

Behind the layers

Of righteousness and ethics

There is a distorted, hungry

Monster, an alter ego

Subtly nodding

To other hungry monsters.

To push for change

But keep the system intact.

 

Where do the outlanders fit?

The ones who challenge, 

Who cause unrest, 

Who offend and disturb

The ones who dare 

To provoke, to smash hegemons

To be outraging.

You call them deviant…

But the foundations of your core

Devour aberrations

In a cocoon adorned

With 50 shades of deviance. 

Ugly Souls

decay_by_lorettamay

If God could whisper to us

If God could talk to us

If he could speak out loudly

What could he say?

 

What would he say

About our ugly souls?

Our uses and abuses

Of human souls

Of human bodies

 

We touch, we take, we lie

We force, we break, we die inside

We build and then destroy

We mock, we cry, we die inside

We hurt, we fight, we disregard.

 

Our human souls

Used to be…

Serene and kind

Now they are dark and blind

If God could talk to us

Would he say…

Wash your ugly souls

In fresh and cold mountain waters

In the salty, cleansing waters of the sea.

 

Nature and its purity

Are shaking slowly

Are collapsing wholly

Endangered with our fellow beings.

The cause and the effect of our ugly souls.

 

We punish, we hate, we ignore

We are wrecks, shadows

If we could hear God’s voice

Would we still die inside?

New Year’s resolutions or how I lost myself

sm-lost-at-sea-72

This is a story of regression and confusion. This is a story of lost paths, mistakes and blind choices. This is a story that does not have a happy end or an end at all.

01.01.2019: I woke up startled that morning and I knew that 2019 is just an illusion. Measuring time was invented by human beings and thus, 8 changed to 9. Because I was conditioned to live by the rules of society my brain acknowledged the coming of the new year. However, I wasn’t about to start making an interminable list of crap with what I want to achieve in the new year or add new fantasies to the all too popular bucket list. It is absolutely unrealistic because you just don’t know what life throws at you everyday. I used to believe that the unpredictability of life is awesome because it does not allow you to settle into routine. I was ,thus, convinced that all you have to do in life is adapt, be flexible and go with the flow. Just see what happens, and go with it, a bit like in Daoism, or a lesson we might have learned from Don Quixote. Do not fight the windmills, do not go against dao, against the path! Just flow with the river ,and nature in the direction they dictate. That sounds about right, nope?

Well, not really. Not for me, at least. I was startled on the first morning of January 2019 because I was lost, and I started to analyze myself and view my entire life under a microscope. I had a great life so far, full of exceptional, happy moments, intense emotions and various experiences that included both gratifying, but also extremely hard and challenging occasions. So far, so good! I lived my 27 years of life by, somehow, following this principle of ‘the path’, following a kind of invisible line that life opened up for me. But all of a sudden, it just didn’t work anymore. It took me places that I didn’t want to be at, it made me travel dark routes outside and inside of myself. After graduating from my master in Belgium, my journey as a responsible adult was supposed to start. Taking into consideration that my family invested financially and emotionally in transforming my being into a succesful and happy adult, I believed I was somehow guaranteed to get there. I mean, I did very well in school, university, master, I managed to be by myself and organize everything in various foreign countries, I had amazing, smart friends, I was creative, clever enough ,and I got involved in the occasional volunteering or other artsy projects. I considered myself motivated enough to achieve what I wanted, I believed I deserved it because I was a good, kind and empathic person that somehow decided that she wants to contribute to other people’s wellbeing. But who was about to contribute to my own wellbeing? Well, everything started to spiral downwards. I just couldn’t find my way, I was struggling in the dark, I was lost at sea. Choices to make, career goals, what job to pursue, where to live, who do I wanna be, what are my desires and most of all, how do I balance what makes me smile and feel good inside with this new-found responsibility to sustain myself financially, and be responsible for myself and my adopted dog? I just couldn’t find any answers at all, and life was crushing me.

funny-hand-life-cartoon

I wish I could say I found what I was looking for. But I didn’t. I can just say that I struggled with being an English teacher in Shanghai, a tourism lecturer in a university in a 3rd tier city in China and a tour guide in Turkey. Now I am back in Shanghai, doing a second master because I still haven’t found my path or I don’t have the courage to wander in the dark aimlessly. I don’t have resolutions for 2019 because I need to learn how to function again as a human being in society. I need to start again, by being a baby, a child, a teenager ,and finally an adult.

I lost my motivation ,and determination to fight and achieve what I want in life.

I am lost at sea, I am just floating endlessly, I am reading too much, watching too many movies, reflecting too much and feeling like a wreck, a failure. I keep wondering where did I go wrong? I mean, where did I lose my real self?

The self that desired to travel the world for a year or two and discover, discover, discover ….without plans or too much money? Well, I am afraid to let go and just travel. I am afraid that I will lose out on precious work experience to add on my CV when I am away on my year travel. I am afraid that I won’t have enough money and I will get stuck in the middle of nowhere, broke and vulnerable. I am afraid that I will spend money that otherwise I could have used to do something else with, like saving to be more financially secure.

I want to become a writer and publish my poetry ,and maybe in the future, short stories or a novel. Am I doing anything to achieve that? No. I am afraid to send any of my work to any publication or contest. I am not confident enough that I have what it takes ,and I am so scared to get rejected.
Where do I want to be? In a middle-sized European picturesque city where I could draw inspiration for my life, and poems just by walking on the streets and breathing in the spirit of history. I want to be able to admire the exquisite, old buildings touched by lives lost and lives yet to come. Where am I? In Shanghai, a giant glass-like city, full of impersonal skyscrapers, commercial shopping malls and ugliness.
I want to be economically independent, and have a job that fulfills me. What am I doing? Well, after a year of looking for jobs in various places and not finding anything suitable, getting rejected too many times and not even discovering what exactly I should be doing, I am now doing a second master in political theory. Gosh, I don’t even wanna do that, but I am too scared of not having anything to do at all. And I am so disillusioned with politics and leaders. I have always been. It is a pain for me to analyze and learn about political systems because I can only see failures in them, just like I see myself now.

I lack self-discipline and motivation, I eat too much and I even put on 10 kilograms since I have come back to Shanghai. I am highly disappointed with myself and it is hard to admit that ,by my own standards, I have become a failure. How can I say that? It is painful and I don’t know where it all went wrong. The hardest thing right now is to start addressing all these issues. And sadder than everything else is that I am clueless.

doors

There are too many doors, and choices in front of me or maybe not enough. I remain numb, and unable to open any of them. I have this recurring dream where I have to run away from this terrible, bulky man, who wants to hurt me and touch me. I am in a fancy mansion that has never-ending rooms and doors. I always open too many doors and I see theatre-like scenes full of everything that one can imagine. The horrible man can never catch me because we always choose different doors. What to choose now? In my dream, I never stop opening doors and exploring rooms until it’s time to wake up. I would appreciate any comments with advice or suggestions!

Ode to the strong

 

 

Tough as a white dove,

Tough as a wounded street dog,

Tough as an injured soldier on the battlefield,

Tough as a crawling baby,

Tough as a hunted deer,

Tough as an old, dying tree,

Tough as human-invaded nature,

Tough as a war refugee…

Cuz they are the resilient!

That’s how tough I wanna be!

 

As tough as the frail,

As tough as the gentle,

As tough as the weak,

As tough as the soft,

As tough as the poor

As tough as the lonely

As tough as the sick

As tough as the homeless…

Cuz they are the resilient!

That’s how tough I wanna be!

 

I wish I was a square-dancing lady!

During the most puzzling moments of my life, when I found myself at crossroads unable to make any kind of decisions at all, my mum would tell me that I’d be better off with less functioning neurons. Of course, in a sarcastic way, but still with a concealed indication of yearning. Why would she say that? Obviously, she doesn’t actually want her only daughter to be less able, but she prefers her daughter to be less of a perfectionist and would love it if she’d stop over-analyzing any teeny-weeny detail of her life.
Just to add a bit of a context, for the past two years of my life I have been struggling a lot with becoming a full, responsible adult capable of choosing a career, setting goals and assuming responsibilities. I am overwhelmed by adulthood and I am nostalgic of teenagehood.Sometimes I feel like I am not ready to choose anything that concerns my life, except travelling destinations and books I want to read. Sometimes I am even confused about that. I don’t know if that’s gonna change at any point, the inability to choose seems to be a constant characteristic of mine since as far as I can remember. It started when I was about 3 or 4 and I couldn’t choose between toys, then I couldn’t choose between cakes, then I couldn’t choose between games, then I couldn’t choose between boys, then I couldn’t choose between universities, between countries, between jobs and so on…
I am sure of nothing, and I know nothing. It is like Socrates put it, I cannot affirm any truth or certitude in what concerns my own life. To a certain extent I can only live life randomly and realize on the way what isn’t good or ‘the truth’ for me. The more I read, the more I travel, the more I work, the more I study, the more I experience, the more I meet people, the more I feel and the more I go through relationships the more baffled I am.
The critical way of thinking, analyzing any aspect of any issue, from academic articles, to theories, to art currents and to psychological matters transformed me into a person that self-doubts too much and over-analyzes her path in life. I am way too scared to be living life in the wrong way. Where does that come from? I think it comes from the multitude of choices we are presented with nowadays. I keep thinking what to choose and make scenarios to see how and where I would end up if I opened this door or that window instead. When I am mid-way on a path I feel my option was faulty and I end up relinquishing. I gave up too many times to remember and always in search of something fictitiously better, only to realize that I never actually pursued anything until the finish line. What I did realize so far is, that no matter what I choose, there will always be shortcomings.
An important question to ask is : Am I a fickle product of a capitalist society that needs to feed on new products every 6 months or so?
In my case it is not about the materialistic reality of products, but rather about the variety of experiences and emotions. I hunger for intellect and intellectual ideas, for books, for self-discovery, for exploration, for travels, for happiness, for events, for new music, for new social currents….gosh, and overall I think too much. On top of this, it is extremely hard to adapt to a society that constantly imposes trends and a set of rules in everything. (how we define time, when to work, what to do, how to construct our CV and life path, blah blah…how to be competitive and successful).
I hate all of this. I long for escaping this choice-making environment. I am pretty sure I was born at the wrong time.
21st century is not my time.
I slowly started to envy people. I envy the square dancing ladies and I envy people who fit their society-assigned roles. Why? Maybe because they are more simple, because they use their brains and bodies to live in the moment, to go with the flow without any kind of perfectionist ideas or any ‘what would it be like’ ideas, or how to improve the ‘self’ at all steps ideas…
I envy the square-dancing ladies because they have this fantastic routine of dancing in the evening at the same hours in public squares in Shanghai. Because they enjoy the dance, the music and the community feeling without their mind wandering off to far-away imaginary lands.
I envy some girls back home because their whole existence is to be in relationships and their purpose is to get married, form a family, be pretty, follow the latest beauty trends and go to as many weddings as possible. Why do I envy them? Because they don’t overstep and ask themselves if there is more to existence than this. Because they enjoy every bit of their lives and don’t self-analyze. Of course they have their own issues too, but those go down to what kind of dresses are the best in the fall season (pretty easy to solve, right?).
Thus, I understand why my mum sometimes wanted me to be a woman with lesser analytical capabilities. For my own good…my life would be less troubled.
There are many things I appreciate about who I am, don’t get me wrong…but sometimes my stream of thoughts gets too heavy to bear> forever questioning, on a forever quest to find something, a restless spirit in search of a substance (what, more exactly?happpiness, love, friends, career, spiritual development, psychological self-awareness and understanding, self-acceptance, self-love, language learning, creation etc. )
To end with, I think I am doomed to put forward my own creation during my mental struggles. I hope that one day it will be a novel or a book of poems.