A Bit Of Technology (In Fetishist Aspect)...
My new Cell Pet has learned few new tricks: he now greets me with “Have a nice day, sweetie!” and sings like Bob Marley ” no women, no cry…” cute…and a weird thing happened: I caught myself…shopping for the clothes, [~shock and horror!] - for my tiny friend…a sexy leather case with strips, how about that?…I think, I’m gradually turning into cell-fetishist…and hb complains that I’m spending too much time with “this thing” already…(well, surely, if I’d know how to configure all those unnecessary but oh so fancy features, I wouldn’t spend yet another evening stupidly staring into little green screen and changing all the settings for yet one more time…[~mental note to myself: don’t even think of buying advanced mobile phones!])
A Bit Of Philosophy (With Reference To The Eyesight)
I’ve discovered that I could be way too easy persuaded by somebody else, rather then by my own perfectly sensible logic…why is that when we look at things and they are too dark and gloomy and hopeless…then when someone else tells us: “look, there is still some sunshine getting through the hole in a roof “; and as of a sudden we found ourselves chasing rainbows in desolated dusty dark dance hall…Why do we need external force to force us? To push over the edge of comfortable blondeness…why we do censure our own vision and yet trust blindly in that of another? Do we really need someone else to be comfortable with self?
A Bit Of Wizdom (Not Mine)
On another wave…I’ve come across this quote and liked it:
Women keep a special corner of their hearts for sins they have never committed. [~Cornelia Otis Skinner]
A Bit Of Poetry (A Wonderful Bit)
It occurred to me that it’s been a while since I posted a nice piece of poetry… that is not good…correction to follow: here is an absolutely amazing transparent poem about a bird -I found it ages ago in my ever frequent web-travels:
How to make the likeness of a bird
by Jacques Prevert
"How to make the likeness of a bird...
how to make a likeness
First draw a cage
with an open door
Then draw
then draw...
Something beautiful,
something simple,
something fitting for a bird.
Then walk through the garden,
or hide behind a tree in the wood
without a word...
without a word...
without a word...
...immobile.
Sometimes the bird comes soon
but it can take its time.
It can take years to decide
to venture forth.
So wait...
wait...
wait...
wait...
wait...
wait for years, if need be.
But the waiting is not in relation
to how the picture worked out.
When the bird comes,
if it comes...
if it comes...
if it comes...
if it comes be very quiet.
Wait for it to enter the cage.
Just keep very quiet.
Just keep very quiet.
When it's inside
slowly shut the door with the paint brush
and then...
and then...
Rub the cage out carefully
without touching the bird's feathers.
In your tree find the prettiest branch
for the bird...
Paint in the leaves, the wind,
insects buzzing in the summer heat,
and then wait... for the bird to sing.
If not, it is a bad omen.
It means the painting is bad.
But if it sings...
But if it sings...
that is a good omen.
And that means you can sign the painting.
So just take your pen,
sign your name in the corner of the painting."
Isn't it just one amazing little poem?!
My new Cell Pet has learned few new tricks: he now greets me with “Have a nice day, sweetie!” and sings like Bob Marley ” no women, no cry…” cute…and a weird thing happened: I caught myself…shopping for the clothes, [~shock and horror!] - for my tiny friend…a sexy leather case with strips, how about that?…I think, I’m gradually turning into cell-fetishist…and hb complains that I’m spending too much time with “this thing” already…(well, surely, if I’d know how to configure all those unnecessary but oh so fancy features, I wouldn’t spend yet another evening stupidly staring into little green screen and changing all the settings for yet one more time…[~mental note to myself: don’t even think of buying advanced mobile phones!])
A Bit Of Philosophy (With Reference To The Eyesight)
I’ve discovered that I could be way too easy persuaded by somebody else, rather then by my own perfectly sensible logic…why is that when we look at things and they are too dark and gloomy and hopeless…then when someone else tells us: “look, there is still some sunshine getting through the hole in a roof “; and as of a sudden we found ourselves chasing rainbows in desolated dusty dark dance hall…Why do we need external force to force us? To push over the edge of comfortable blondeness…why we do censure our own vision and yet trust blindly in that of another? Do we really need someone else to be comfortable with self?
A Bit Of Wizdom (Not Mine)
On another wave…I’ve come across this quote and liked it:
Women keep a special corner of their hearts for sins they have never committed. [~Cornelia Otis Skinner]
A Bit Of Poetry (A Wonderful Bit)
It occurred to me that it’s been a while since I posted a nice piece of poetry… that is not good…correction to follow: here is an absolutely amazing transparent poem about a bird -I found it ages ago in my ever frequent web-travels:
How to make the likeness of a bird
by Jacques Prevert
"How to make the likeness of a bird...
how to make a likeness
First draw a cage
with an open door
Then draw
then draw...
Something beautiful,
something simple,
something fitting for a bird.
Then walk through the garden,
or hide behind a tree in the wood
without a word...
without a word...
without a word...
...immobile.
Sometimes the bird comes soon
but it can take its time.
It can take years to decide
to venture forth.
So wait...
wait...
wait...
wait...
wait...
wait for years, if need be.
But the waiting is not in relation
to how the picture worked out.
When the bird comes,
if it comes...
if it comes...
if it comes...
if it comes be very quiet.
Wait for it to enter the cage.
Just keep very quiet.
Just keep very quiet.
When it's inside
slowly shut the door with the paint brush
and then...
and then...
Rub the cage out carefully
without touching the bird's feathers.
In your tree find the prettiest branch
for the bird...
Paint in the leaves, the wind,
insects buzzing in the summer heat,
and then wait... for the bird to sing.
If not, it is a bad omen.
It means the painting is bad.
But if it sings...
But if it sings...
that is a good omen.
And that means you can sign the painting.
So just take your pen,
sign your name in the corner of the painting."
Isn't it just one amazing little poem?!