Twenty-Four and Unemployed

Weeeell, a happy birthday to me, I suppose. I had some plans for the day, but sadly, I couldn't quite accomplish what I had planned. The idea was to write a complete short-story as a way of redeeming myself, so to speak. I wanted the day to be extremely productive as I usually sit and reflect on the past year whenever my birthday approaches, but yeah, this time wasn't a success, nor a complete failure, if I say so myself. My friends and family have made this day a bit more lighthearted, and I appreciate that, truly. However, I still am going to keep working on this short-story for now. I have been invested in another longer work, and I admit that I miss my old days of writing. Poetry, too, must be practiced soon -- I miss it wholeheartedly. I also miss showing my written pieces to my former professor, so that's that.

Anyways, this short-story is based on a dream I had weeks ago, and it really affected me. I would even say I couldn't get over it, and so I thought turning it into a story would be a good way to conquer it. Here's a teaser from the short-story titled Silence...

“I’m dead, damn it!” I ran through the debris of what were once houses of happy families. The end was following me; it kept me on its radar. I couldn’t hide anymore. What I saw around me was destruction… abused bodies, violence, and fire all over. Greenery no longer existed. Our world was now a barren land covered in the blood of the weak.

“Halt, you bastard! You’re under arrest,” shouted the voice that followed me, repeatedly. I closed my eyes, as I ran towards my funeral — the area of voices and noise — I was going to be the easiest catch in history.

The Book Thief

Here comes a first -- an actual book review! Rest assured, my reviews have no spoilers. Anyways, about three days ago, I have finished reading The Book Thief by Markus Zusak, and despite my delays and reading slumps, it was such a splendid read.

4.5 out of 5 stars.

     So here goes... personally, I am a big fan of war novels. War is one of my favorite themes, and in The Book Thief, it was well-handled. Zusak not only talked about Nazi Germany and the persecution of Jews, but he also highlighted many aspects of the life lived back during World War II. It was not just a war-themed novel, for it handled family relationships and friendships in great manner. This book's 550 pages were never boring. On the contrary, reading it always put me on the edge of the next page; wanting to know more, and see more. Zusak, I believe, creatively used foreshadowing in his narrator's voice in order to pull readers in -- to make them another part of the story. The narrator, I must say, is most likely the key with which the author excelled. Death, being the narrator, was more than just a third perspective; he also took part in the story. To a point, it was more of Death's story than Liesel's. Having mortality walk by your side offers a whole new perspective on the concept of death. Death was not that Reaper holding a scythe, no, in The Book Thief, he was only doing his job. To me, he seemed like a very tired man, who's constantly misunderstood. In short, the narrator was written in a way to enable readers to see through him, which I loved.
     I highly enjoyed the author's writing-style. It was poetic, yet direct in conveying its points. That and the humorous tone he instilled in his beautifully written characters was indeed lighthearted. Getting the novel to be a fun ride of ups and downs despite its focus on such a terrible theme is, in my opinion, a work worthy of applause. And let's not forget the little details denoting Liesel's growth; they were subtle and well-thought.

     Honestly, I'm not sure whether this review is coming out of me because of the book's length, which is the first relatively long book I've read, or because I've gotten quite attached to the characters. The latter actually amuses me, because the narrator was that type which gives you continuous insights. If a character would die, you'd know beforehand, but maybe the mystery of how they'd die was why one would get attached to an already dead character. I assume Death would trigger those that despise spoilers, but he really does it with quite a sympathetic tone, so that's his defense.

     To put an end to this review and for me to finally move on to another book, I'd just have to express how sentimental this book was. It wasn't just a book to allow readers to sympathize with Jews, but also with the ones that were supposedly part of Nazi Germany -- the so-called enemy. Every war and every system that runs it is proof that life is not just black and white. Some people from the conqueror's side appear even more unfortunate than those on the conquered's side. Life, after all, works in such ways to entwine one end to the other. All the characters were down to earth; they were real in their flaws and weaknesses, and to each their own moral compass. In the end, all thanks to Markus Zusak for writing a marvelous book.

This is a 4.5 out of 5 book for me, and I recommend it to all those who like to read on war.

Supernatural Powers

Struggle and suffering are not exclusive to certain people. No, everyone suffers, but some do more than others. At such times, we all need someone to reassure us of a better tomorrow. Personally, I mostly react to difficult situations with anger and repression of negative feelings, and for a long time, it was slowly turning me mad. Then one day, my brother came telling me that his friend is giving away his kittens, and I think at that point, I really needed a companion: someone that would freshen up my days and ease my stressful mind. Of course, I first thought I adopted a female kitten, because males, to me, were walking disasters if they started to spray, and I told myself that I would never get a male cat. Ironically, the two months old kitten turned to be a male, and I remember wanting to give him back to his owner -- how stupid was I to base a being's life on its sex -- but I actually kept him because when I first saw him, he was all scared and shaking that I thought he'd never allow anyone to touch him. Yet, that moment when he sat on my lap trying to sleep, I knew I was attached to him for a lifetime.

Mana at two months old.

     He came to me when I was all stressed with the fact that we rented a hell-hole, and slowly made his existence a vital part of my everyday life. From that little kitten who slept on the edge of the bed, he became an outgoing, charismatic cat who bites the shit out of people to show his affection. We went through so many ups and downs together, and I was always worried about him, and still am, but he always remains as the best thing that could have happened to me ten months ago. Without him, I would have had no reason to wake up during days of depression, and without him, I wouldn't have become as compassionate. He taught me a great deal of compassion and definitely taught me how to be responsible. Now in our cozy room in our own house, away from that rented hell-hole, I am glad to have seen my boy grow up being happy, occasionally grumpy, and always playful. To him, who finally turned one year old, I wish prosperous years to come with new toys as he inflicts me with an infinite amount of scratches and bite-marks.

    Mana, you are indeed a supernatural power in my life. Happy birthday!

All grown-up and handsome!

The Importance of Reading

The books I've read in July.

Last month marked a tremendous breakthrough to be quite honest, and I'd be lying if I didn't give half the credit to reading. I remember Dr. Keith stressing on the importance of reading, that it almost seemed to me as if it was the ultimate reason behind humanity. I thought: "Sure, reading allows us entrances to many worlds, and without it, we'd remain oblivious," but only now do I believe I see the true reason behind his insistence. Reading heals the soul -- as cliche as that might sound, it holds truth in it. Reading allows us to see into the lives of others, even if fictional, and relate or even sympathize. It gives us a chance to redeem ourselves, and build our character. Reading should be integrated into our lifestyle, not just to be a part of it, but to help shape it.

Near Open Water would provide you with harsh facts about the world we live in.

     That being said, I have never felt better about myself more than I did when I realized that I started reading almost on a daily-basis, and that really impressed me. It meant that I was open to learn more, and enjoy books as I previously did in college. That's exactly why I believe there is no such thing as a mood, because there shouldn't be a mood for reading, or doing whatever you like -- it should simply be a part of your life.

Productivity Mood

We so often claim that we have no time to achieve the goals of our days, or even the dreams of our future. There is always a sense of running out of time. Ironically, most of us that complain of having no time suffer from boredom. Often, we just lie down and spend our days being bored, while in truth, having a million tasks to accomplish. Yet, it seems we have programmed our minds to certain "moods". Meaning that in spite of having the free time to get down to work on our tasks, we just say that we aren't in the mood of such tasks, whether it's meeting a deadline, progressing in your reading-list, or even as simple as sending an email.
     In reality, there is no "mood" to things. Yes, there exists moments in which we feel more inspired to accomplish things, but that still depends on our mindset. Moods can be as misleading as writer's block. Both exist but only if we allow them. A block is simply the lack of ideas, which can be dealt with during a stroll down the neighborhood or your local park. Similarly, a mood is something we created to understand that we sometimes lack the energy to do certain things, which eventually leads to boredom. It's not because we're bored that we aren't in the mood, but rather the opposite -- our lack of mood results in our boredom.
     One needs to overcome the creation of moods to be productive, and that can be achieved, even if it felt like a sort of feat:
     1- Organize your time to allow yourself some breaks to rest.
     2- Fuel your spirit by doing what interests you.
     3- Start today instead of tomorrow.

 It wouldn't be as difficult once you start. Happy productivity!

Gott ist tot

"God is dead; we have killed him," wrote Friedrich Nietzsche in one of his books. Only now do I think I have received an insight to what it might mean, at least to myself. It is true that God might exist, for we have created him through our belief systems, but that's exactly it! We have merged him with our lives; our unholy cores. In the old days, life was supposedly simple. Happy, even. Yet now, the world witnesses its own fall as corruption spreads faster than gossip. We, in our turn, tainted God's perfect image by our own deeds -- our killings and atrocities robbed God of what we once gave him; power.
     We now don't look up to God for peace and safety. No, we now know that God is nowhere to be found in a battlefield. We killed him because we no longer hide behind our Jekyll. On the contrary, this era is all about what our Hyde can do -- doom and chaos is all we seem to see. No prayers sent to God anymore, for we have ended his reign.

I'll further explore this when I get to read "Thus Spake Zarathustra" by Nietzsche. Again, these mean no insult to any religion. I am merely thinking out loud.

Back on Track

It feels like so many months had passed, but in truth, it's only April. To me, things feel slow -- unproductive and in no way progressing towards what I want. Nevertheless, I'm slowly getting back on track. I'm back to writing; I have a couple of unfinished stories that need to be revised and continued. A friend is helping me out and despite the difficulties, it's amazing how we're continuing the plot without really knowing what goes into the other's mind. I genuinely think that our story is going towards something quite intriguing.
     Poetry-wise, I've written something two days ago... I can't even recall the last time I got inspired for a poem, but this time was different -- just an email from a dear person managed to get me back to where I was; to who I am. Yet again, I can't shake the feeling of a powerful entity pulling me into the depths of that cursed hole again. Depression doesn't seem like it'll pass easily, not after all that had happened.
     However, to you, who saved the last bit of me, I will make you proud again, and to all those who still believe in my words; I will be forever in your debt. Thank you.

In the Process

Prying on the lives of others,

Desperately looking for a rhythm.

Oh, how long has it been now,

Since I’ve sat down and written?

A mentor suggests me some forms,

While an editor awaits my lore.

But what do I do in the process?

I stress upon a man of progress —

Calling my best piece a fluke,

As words fail before my standards.

Yet do I dare acknowledge my losses;

Standing still, waiting for a verdict?

Aye, if I can be comforted by the dead —

Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and the Romantics.

Different writers and different times,

But similarly providing words that survived.

This work, too, is a road to comfort,

For I write, not for fame, but insight.

Then in time, abstract will transform,

A concrete well of ideas it will forge.

New Year's Package

Well, it's been quite long, but important things had happened. First, I'm back home... this old bearer of my childhood is still a great sanctuary for my endless thoughts. I also graduated, so my mind is not quite at ease lately. I must admit the fact that I deeply miss my life as a student; my interactions with the professors, the daily coffee, and all the little things.
     This new year has brought with it quite an interesting package though -- a messy life full of decision making, but at least, it gave me the luxury of a private, organized room, and let us not forget the new enjoyable company; my kitten, Mana. For a five months old kitten, his existence does help me forget -- he ultimately allows me the privilege of a new routine to live by, now that I have graduated. I got really attached to him; it's a funny mess.
     More on this soon...

There's the little devil.