A futuristic, robotic world

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The advance of technology and the development of robots is a fact in nowadays world. Now, the question is: How far will these advances go and how far will humans go to revolutionize the workplace and productivity in order to save money? Will robots come to replace humans in their jobs?

Will they go as far as creating robots that will be capable of doing everything a human being can? Will we live in a world where robots and humans cohabit? Will people go as far as producing robots that are capable of feeling and thinking on their own? Will they go as far as engineering robots that can become our sexual partners? Will they go as far as starting to create hybrids, beings that are half human and half robot? Will we become beings that boost our own physical capacities by using machine parts?

Robots and sci-fi worlds make up the plot of many books and movies. The most recent Tv series I watched offers a lot of variation on the theme of futuristic, robotic worlds.

‘Love, Death and Robots’ is an extremely creative one season series. It is composed of 18 episodes, with each episode lasting between 10 and 15 minutes long. Thus, it is easy to watch and fast to finish, perfect for a whole afternoon or evening binge. I found ‘Love, Death and Robots’ captivating due to its amazing vibrant visual style. Each episode explores a different story, so in this sense the episodes do not rely on each other. They could be described as a series of unconnected, short films that fit into the same overall theme. However, each episode is constructed on the foundation of a future world in which robots, technological advancements and machines are the new normality of reality.

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The visual aspect of this fantastic, sci-fi style animation series is quite exquisite and worth to be observed and internalized by itself . The variety of episodes takes the viewer on a journey through 18 distinct, science fiction settings. Some episodes remind us of animes, others have a feel of realistic movies suddenly turned into dream-like atmospheres, full of vibrant colours. Others take us by surprise by coming on as cartoons for kids. And still, others borrow the overall visual effects of movies about space.

Love, Death and Robots. What are the narratives?

Expect to see a genetically mutated creature with a removable, computer-like brain in a fighting pit;  werewolves employed by the army; robots inhabiting an Earth where humans have gone extinct;  women transformed into robots to act as sexual fetishes; a world invaded by giant spider machines and so much more. Overall, everything is quite fluid and somehow it manufactures a vibe that the world is aactually heading towards one of the visions presented in the series, if not towards a mixture of them all. This miniseries is challenging us to envision planet Earth hundreds or thousand of years from now.

The skill of procrastination


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This morning, I saw a job ad.

Like all the other job ads,

Like yesterday’s job notification,

Received by email.

Sinking in a bathtub of:

Skills, capabilities, abilities

And the sort

Hard and soft

– What can you do for us?

Personality, emotions

Creativity, uniqueness

Useless.

Praise yourself?

Advertise your skills?

Package your persona, neatly!

Desirable skills:

Teamwork, communication, organization

Leadership, problem-solving

Meeting deadlines, flexibility

Describing aliens

Peeping into neighbors’ houses.

Ups, I got carried away!

 

Don’t have them? Next!

Mass-production, conveyor-belt

Possible job seeker no. 249.

And while I adore the sound

Of abstract sounding donkey-dust skills

I, myself, am the queen of procrastination.

Here’s to my leadership skills of:

Peeling oranges, cutting potatoes

Collecting postcards, gazing at the stars

Spreading butter on toast, window shopping!

I had a dream last night:

Every newspaper’s headline was:

“The coolest job of the 21st century

Requires…..tadam!

The skill of procrastination!

Welcome to my kingdom!

 

The fantastic life of the absurd

 

 

Imagine an all-encompassing society

A ridiculous one, for that matter

So absurd, so out of this world

Even ludicrous stories would stop

And stare!

The most preposterous happenings

Would choke

And swallow nervously.

This fantastic life of the absurd

Would be a bit like:

Fluffy, flying mini pigs

In airplanes, and cars, and subways

Ruling countries, being leaders.

Because it’s the year of the pig, after all!

Fair and smart pigs would commit

To a society of the animals

For the animals.

This fantastic life of the absurd

Would be a bit like:

You, offenders and criminals!

Obey the chain of command!

Walk on a leash,

Do house chores

Help the poor

Live a life of silence

Submit to your master!

You, helpless house pets!

This fantastic life of the absurd

Would be a bit like:

Art, colors and cubism

Are the new currency.

We trade in oil paintings

Sketches and charcoal pencils.

Cash, banks?

All gone!

We trade in beauty, and imagination!

We all get to share!

This fantastic life of the absurd

Would be a bit like:

Fat, slim, white, Black

Short, tall, fit, or not

It’s all the same.

No rules, no stereotypes

No ethnicities, no beauty standards.

A meal’s nutritional value

Got into a fight

With the good looks of models and actors.

They both lost.

They vanished.

This fantastic life of the absurd

Would be a bit like:

Bookshops and libraries

Sprinkle and twinkle

In their new roles

As therapists and psychologists.

-For an anxiety and stress-free life

Please, step inside a book, or two

Become a character

Deconstruct your body, your mind

Run in the wild

Of stories and poems

Come back, anew!

 

 

 

 

New Year’s resolutions or how I lost myself

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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.

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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.

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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.