Soul surfing

Death

marinka — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 19:16:13 GMT

This ride on the tube killed whatever was left in me. It's not even the lack of air, or the smell of human sweat and breath - it's this collective anger and hate stuffing up the atmosphere. I got off one stop before mine. Dead. As if the tiredness of the entire city of London has just been loaded onto my shoulders. I carried it home like Jesus carried the cross to Golgotha.

?

marinka — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 05:58:21 GMT

who are all these people? they probably mean nothing and i probably mean nothing to them, but we're all pretending there's a lot of meaning in the moment. well, if that amounts to one big illusion, so be it - at least i had fun exploring it.

dinosaur age

marinka — Sun, 02 Aug 2009 17:25:51 GMT

what does it all come down to... someone's real tangible life. a life that makes sense in the big schema of things, lived through historical times - Lenin's grandchildren, brainwashed till 11, and how this ideology slowly dissolved, and we started wearing jeans to school, and it wasn't so dangerous anymore to get caught smoking in school backyard, because what was the worst thing they could do to you? call you a public enemy or something? and I remember the thrill of driving a car at 16. My dad let me take the wheel in a narrow highway where people left their Zhiguli's to wander off into the woods and gather mushrooms early in the morning. August 26th, 1999 - I remember we gathered mushrooms the day before leaving. And then I moved to America, but it wasn't the kind of shock the previous wave of immigrants had. I wasn't amazed so much at the abundance of choice in consumer products, I was struck by the system itself. From automatically flushing toilet bowls in public restrooms to Ombudsband's office of the University of Texas at Austin - a court of law to protect the rights of students (errrr what?!) And it wasn't anything global and historical that I could put in a book worth reading, it was just every-day life. Meeting foreign people and wondering how they've survived this far with their philosophy and their well-organized lives. I got used to rubbery food and demanded excellent customer service. And somewhere in that lulling comfort of american dream I playfully decided to make an adventurous move, just to see what happens if I live in Europe. London was a neurological surgery. With brain transplants installed in my head, a new conscience, and a new pair of eyes. Three years has passed since and it was strange to see american culture ominously grin at me yesterday in a Tex-Mex joint that just opened in the neighbourhood (run by a Turkish American who spoke perfect Russian). ML was annoyed with the restaurant staff for delaying her meal. She bit every last waiter in the place and firmly insisted on her right to be served immediately, despite whatever cataclysms may occur at a London restaurant on it's 2nd day of opening. None of this seems global to me. Not global enough to put it in a book worth reading... yet somehow I know there's a deep message in all of this, some sort of driving force that I haven't grasped yet. And maybe some day somebody will take a screenshot of my memory and tie it into a story of the 21 century (that vain desire to leave a footprint :))... If all goes well, I'll die somewhere in 2070. The new 70ties... a century later. The times of my youth would seem ancient, like black-and-white charlie-chaplin movies - more amusing to me for their primitive technology than their content. What would be the scares of the new 70ties? Will people be afraid of global freezing and over-production of clones? Will we come up with a fair system to let people live their lives? Or will it become more mandated and supervised? Will the grip tighten? Will there be more world wars? Which side would be safer? Which side stronger? Or will we all blow up tomorrow? And there will be no 70ties... we'll fade into dinosaur age.

Which Way?

marinka — Mon, 07 Apr 2008 17:03:33 GMT

I am staring into silent space trying hard to understand where I am... where I left off... Through the sponge of darkness I cannot make out a single familiar shape. I feel panic. I am ready to take action at the slightest hint of danger. My senses are sharpened to the limit. My being is reduced to one state: flight-or-fight. Oh yes... that's right. I'm in America. This is a hotel room. I am here because of work. What time is it? Still too early. Must be jet-lag. Need to pack up - I'm going back to London and then to Russia. There are two days in Reading in between. This week will seem like an eternity. 3 different countries. 3 different roles. I feel like my identity is tripled. Would my friends from Russia recognize me if they met me in America or in London? Three different lives and each one of them has its own familiar routine. Each one is equally comfortable. Each one is a home. Russia, America. And London... where I started off stumbling and almost falling at first... but then moved forward with more and more confidence as I was letting go off the past... and not only of it's characters, but also of its breeding soil - America itself. As my mindframe takes on a new shape old values no longer fit. They need to be put away like christmas tree decorations. It's a new age with a fresh outlook, deeper understanding and a clear direction. I know where I'm going.

wide open :)

marinka — Tue, 26 Feb 2008 07:54:37 GMT

It's fascinating what happens when you look past your instinctive judgements and carefully Listen... truly open your mind and try to peak into another soul... to discover a blooming garden... with colors you've never imagined before, so bright you find them reflecting in your own soul with sunny sparkle :) Love is smiling at me through so many faces, how dare I to ever shed a tear?!

Ghosts

marinka — Sun, 28 Oct 2007 19:00:38 GMT

I knew a fellow once who spent his whole life doing nothing but hunting for a ghost, and it was just a waste of time. Mine's too elusive. Or maybe I'm just looking and not seeing while he's smirking at me from the corner of the room ... Once or twice I thought I caught him, but it was something else... If I take my blindfold off, will I find the room empty?

Chess

marinka — Fri, 28 Sep 2007 21:32:49 GMT

Just one piece missing. Do I really need it? Can I play without it? I could imagine it is there... or use a dummy.

i'm back

marinka — Tue, 25 Sep 2007 11:21:32 GMT

...to a whole new life! How will it be from now on? Am I headed in the right direction? What will I learn? Don't want any more bitter lessons. I hope the tracks are smooth from now on...

O2 Wireless Festival

marinka — Tue, 19 Jun 2007 12:00:09 GMT

I have to admit that the first six hours of the festival could hardly justify a 50-quid entrance fee. Making our way through the muddy grass field towards the nearest burger tent in search of dry shelter I was wondering what was it about the O2 festival that attracted people from all over the world... It definitely seemed like a great opportunity for those devoid of talent, taste, voice and ear to get on a massive stage dressed up in glittery spandex and shock the crowd with daring lyrics - "FUKKIN KUNT!! I WANT ALCOHOL! BITCH! BITCH-BITCH! Woohoo!!" Thanks to a foot-long hot-dog we had enough strength to endure the torture and hold out till half past seven. That's when a strong ray of light pierced through the rain clouds, tempreture climbed at least a 100 degrees up and these two shady aliens came out and took over the world. One could tell right away they were up to no good! At first they captured the crowd with a steady low beat, then conquered our trust with "Around the World" mix and then made us all perform some kind of a tribal zombie dance. Our eyes glued to the stage, our bodies twitching to the rythm, our ears tuned to the hypnotizing beat. After a few hours I heard my left knee popping but I couldn't stop! Then I felt my throat scratching from dehydration but I kept on going! There was time when my muscles started giving in, but that didn't prevent the convulsions. I'm under influence ever since... My head keeps bobbing and my butt keeps swinging and I still hear that contagious beat in my ears. I've been posessed! Lerka is reporting similar symptoms from Copenhagen. Pictures of this experience are posted here: http://filthykitten.spaces.live.com/

Am i moving? Am i not moving? Moving where? And when?

marinka — Sat, 05 May 2007 17:57:20 GMT

48 hours ago I listed my apartment with a letting agency which caused an unstoppable influx of visitors into my flat, invading my privacy, taking pictures, asking questions, leaving doors open, looking into my closets, moving my chairs, peaking into my fridge and flushing my toilet. When the storm abated I took another look at the place where I lived for the last year... What's so attractive about its mold on the walls, stains on the ceiling, old worn-out carpet the color of baby-shit and dented dirty yellow couch that harboured so many asses in its lifetime? All that for £1105 a month! Suddenly I heard a key turning in my door lock and a lady armed with a tripod and a huge Cannon walked in. "Oh! Hi! You scared me!" - she said as she marched past me. "I live here... still. I've paid through the end of May. Who ARE you?" "I'm just gonna take some pictures here, for the agency." - she informed me. The tripod was installed in my living room and a picture of me paralized with astonishment was taken next to the yellow couch.

livin on the edge

marinka — Mon, 30 Apr 2007 21:28:15 GMT

I should really do my dishes. The pile's growing dangerously high, with the red pot crowning the tower. If my neighbour slams the door again, the structure will reach its critical point. It'd be smart to take necessary precautions right now and at least wash the red pot. Otherwise pealing that pasta off the walls won't be much fun.

Reality pants

marinka — Sun, 29 Apr 2007 00:19:19 GMT

Maybe realities can not be adopted for eternity just like a pair of pants can not be worn for life, even if it's your favorite. Maybe it is absolutely natural for a reality to age, wear out on the seams and go through that last cycle of laundry before it is finally retired into the closet, buried at the bottom of the stack under the new pair - fancy, daring and worn with a different attitude.

paradigm of life

marinka — Mon, 19 Mar 2007 22:04:30 GMT

at the heart of every progress is a desire to achieve comfort, but in a state of comfort one becomes stale if things didn't take a drastic turn half a year ago, i would have kept stagnating. Instead I'm making huge progress every day, moving at the speed of light towards my next zone of comfort. (whatever that might be!)

Illusions...

marinka — Wed, 14 Mar 2007 23:44:38 GMT

...form like ripples on the water surface disturbed by a tiny droplet of rain. They cloud your mind and take you into a world of fantasy with its lulling rythm. It is a state of blissful ignorance and complete detachment from reality. Awakening is painful, but inevitable. Tomorrow someone will wake up from a daydream...

online backup

marinka — Fri, 02 Mar 2007 21:20:54 GMT

For a while I was soul surfing in a notepad file stored on my 4y.o. laptop. Needless to say one day the damn thing crashed and months of work was smashed! So here I am... inclined to give my thoughts a longer life in people's rather than computer's mind.

Today didn't go exactly as I originally planned.

marinka — Mon, 26 Feb 2007 21:24:44 GMT

I was one hour late for my "Time Management" training course with a special emphasis on personal effectiveness. I slept through most of it and lost the course study material on the way back home.

without an anchor

marinka — Sun, 25 Feb 2007 17:17:07 GMT

London is such a dynamic city! People don't stay here for more than a couple of years. Somebody's always hosting a going-away party. I've been to a couple already and know of 3 more coming up. One day I'll host mine too. But where will I be headed to?

George Michael

marinka — Sun, 03 Dec 2006 21:53:10 GMT

Well... I was gonna post pictures from George Michael concert but I lost my memory card.

mmm... I'm happy!!!

marinka — Tue, 14 Nov 2006 00:34:53 GMT

I love this state of mind...

marinka — Tue, 24 Oct 2006 13:22:49 GMT

it's the time when you observe the world around you but don't let it touch you, it's when you learn but don't feel, it's when your heart is so numb you can set emotions aside and listen to Reason.

Debile wears Prada

marinka — Sat, 21 Oct 2006 21:31:33 GMT

what a stupid movie...

at the end of the day...

marinka — Wed, 18 Oct 2006 18:31:00 GMT

at the end of the day, what does it matter? Later I will look back and laugh at the problems that seemed so big and had no solution. ... at the end of the day what *does* matter? Experience.

helpdesk, customer service etc.

marinka — Tue, 22 Aug 2006 05:32:14 GMT

If you ever find yourself in a good mood enjoying the day and being kind to everybody - call helpdesk! It will get you back to earth!

"big chef!"

marinka — Tue, 15 Aug 2006 19:11:37 GMT

Cooking is one of the things I'm really bad at. Something unsuitable for a woman in many cultures (Russian included). If you can't cook - you have no hope of ever becoming somebody's wife. You're useless. My daily food - beef franks with pasta. Sometimes I treat myself with an omlet. My usual excuse is: "I don't have anyone to cook for". But the real reason - I don't enjoy it. I consider it a complete waste of time - spending your evenings and weekends by the stove when you could be doing so many other exciting things! While I always enjoy my mom's cooking, I consider my daily meals primarily as a way of getting rid of hunger. If one day all humans were forced to be fed through internal injection I would have been compeletely fine with it! Another huge downside of cooking is that it is the source of an infinite pile of dirty dishes in the sink. Unfortunately in England dishwashers are not a common kitchen accessory, so you can only imagine how much I have to suffer! You'd think paper plates would solve the problem? Well... paper plates aren't very common here either. They can certainly be found in the stores but in very limited amounts and only in the capacity of picnic gadgets. Other then being a total waste in terms of time and dishes, when it comes to my cooking it is also a huge disappointment. My latest attempt resulted in nothing more than a material for immediate disposal. So there... i got it off my chest!

London, Carnival de Cuba, and the end of my first week in Europe.

marinka — Sat, 10 Jun 2006 20:56:36 GMT

Life just doesn't stop here, it's impossible to plan anything because the moment you get out on the street the city scoops you up and sends you down the stream of cafes and bars, theatres and museums, music festivals and carnivals, parks and cathedrals filled with people from all over the world. I feel like I'm part of the universe again! Now... of course not everything is so romantic. But I choose not to notice the flaws of the system just yet. Let me enjoy the sun, the new atmosphere, the river banks, the people (those that smile back). I hate the way women are treated here! America, you've been fighting for equal rights and you DID get somewhere with it! At least when it comes to women. I get hit on every step I make. Sometimes with respect, but most of the times as if I were some kind of a commodity that can be purchased. Fuck that! I told a guy I'm not interested and he grabbed my arm right there in front of Dahli's museum. Put his hand on my neck and said with an angry voice "C'mon! Let's go!" And he was violent! Pissed that I said no! I have to be really careful. When it starts raining, I'll sign up for a kick-boxing class just so I can brush off dudes like the one I met today. Then there are low women too... the ones that hate me before I speak, the ones that give me these nasty looks, their eyes shooting lightnings at me. But I find pleasure in smiling back at them and being polite. It disarms them. They don't know how to react. So they lose. I ended up at a Cuban Carnival today dancing in a crowd of people right in front of a Cuban band. It reminded me of Seattle Folk Festival the weekend before I left ...and Lerka. It would have been a lot more fun if she was here too. So.... it's been a week since I moved to London... and I don't regret a thing yet. I love my job, my flat, the little grocery store around the corner, the view out of my window. Somebody asked me... "how long are you going to stay here?" Suddenly I realized that I had no plans for the future. None. I'm here. Right now.