| TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN |
[Mar. 10th, 2006|07:36 pm] |
If I have been actively avoiding you - its because I am breaking contact with you and going on with my life. Please understand this and try not to meddle with my affairs, attempt to call me every day, or send me loads of e-mails... unless its really, really neccessary. I am a different person than before, experiencing different things, and currently dealing with several situations - things I have no interest at this time to reveal. This may change, as all things tend to do, at some point in the future.
If you truly care for me (and please don't think that I don't care for you) - please be patient and wait until I actively reinitiate communications. Please understand that I need this time for myself, and please don't force yourself on me.
Thank you for reading this. |
|
|
| [Slightly Retro] Hurray for Unexpected Entrances |
[Feb. 10th, 2006|08:29 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  angry | ] |
This happened on the first day of Febuary, I believe - I wrote this text after midnight on that day. Enjoy this post, even if it is over a week late in posting onto my journal.
My apartment owners have finally discovered my telephone number and managed to find out what my telephone is - the unlisted one I have only given two people. The have called me, we had a nice chat, and yes, I have to pay my backrent despite me not having an income, but they are understanding and quite friendly. I may be currently screwed, but at least in a not brutal way. Yesterday, they call again - and offer to deduct 50 Euros off my bankrent if I take care of a wall socket myself. No problem, I'll save some more money, good. Then they said the owner would bring some papers over today - he said he'd toss them in the mailbox if I wasn't there. Good.
I have Wednesdays free I went to sleep very early in the morning. Its 12:30 noontime, the doorbell rings. I let it ring. There is a mailbox. A little later. The apartment doorbell rings. I let it ring. Let me sleep some more. A knock...
THEN I HEAR THE DOOR UNLOCK AND OPEN.
I get up (lucky I didn't sleep naked today), walk up to him and see him stare at me, and he asks I why I didn't open the door. Giving my best druggy expression, I tell him that I had been bloody sleeping - me in boxer shorts.
Now, the thing is, you don't really want your apartment owner to just trample into your apartment. Even worse is the fact that currently, it doesn't look pretty. Because my ex still has some furniture of me, I have loads of boxes laying around. A bag of laundry. A row of bottles to return to be recycled. The unwashed dishes from yesterday where my cooking kind of exploded and I haven't cleaned up yet. Now, I guess I really shouldn't give a damn, but he just chose the wrong time to stumble in my apartment - because it does look really, really crappy right now because of that all. When I have people breaking in, I want them to do it when my apartment looks normal.
I shouldn't feel worried - I should technically feel mad, and not guilty, but man - I think I traumatized the poor man standing there in my boxer shorts and he whining about me not opening the door when he had rung and knocked. But HE OPENED THE DOOR TO MY TINY ONE ROOM APARTMENT JUST LIKE THAT. So, yeah, I am freaked. He seems to be a nice guy, and now probably thinks I am a junkie. He handed me the papers and ran off.
I think I am going to see if I can invite him over next week, after I have finally brought my row of "to be recycled" glass jars and bottles away, cleaned up the cooking mess, after push my unpackable boxes a bit around, just for fun. And maybe be actually be dressed. And my hair combed. Then we could maybe talk about this breach of privacy and show that I am not the monster he probably thinks I am.
... you know, yesterday I was scared because I am trying my best to find a part-time job or anything because my student aide money will probably never get through and I would have difficulty having enough money even to survive from one day to another. At least now, I have been exchanged that with incredulous disbelief at somebody marching into my bloody apartment.
splatty |
|
|
| February Continued |
[Feb. 10th, 2006|07:14 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  crazy | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Madonna - Beautiful Stranger | ] |
Decisions have been made. Other steps have been taken. Conversations have been conducted. And February is indeed a very special month, where everything can yet fall apart, or be reborn again.
And I won't say anything more yet, just to annoy those few fateful eyes reading this. I'll reveal all as soon as things have come to an end.
splatty |
|
|
| One week in... |
[Feb. 7th, 2006|09:36 am] |
| [ | music |
| | Mazzy Star - Into Dust | ] |
And February is indeed an "interesting" month. Very much so indeed.
splatty |
|
|
| Happy New (Chinese) Year |
[Jan. 30th, 2006|09:10 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Mazzy Star - Into Dust | ] |
February will be a rough month, a decisive nexus which will force me to tip my hand and make several choices I have hoped not to have to make. It will also be the time when events should come to a conclusion after so long. Either way, it will be an interesting month, at the least. I just hope it will be a good start to the year of the dog.
splatty |
|
|
| Website Update.. and Potential Problems |
[Jan. 17th, 2006|02:16 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  worried | ] |
If anybody is interested, I have finally updated my core website (http://www.splattergnome.com) with a few new photos and new photo display script to make things a bit nicer. Additionally, I had fun ransacking the outdated copyright notices. Hopefully, I will eventually manage to get access to a scanner and be able to fill out the artwork side of things. Its not much, but hey - its there.
As to the problems - I think I may have caught something. My kidney area has been acting up and hurting in the past few evenings - well, not hurting, most of the time just a pressure - which comes and goes again. I don't know what it is - a kidney infection, kidney stones - it doesn't even have to be my kidney. I am not a doctor, after all, and it could be anything down there. However, it is worrying me a lot, and I don't want to ignore what could potentially turn out threatening (better safe than sorry).
The bad thing is: I do not have medical insurance. And this is something which technically is impossible over here in Germany, where you have insurance either from the government or privately insured. However, thanks to the gears of beaurocracy and red tape, I don't have one, and I am going to have to try to find a doctor who actually accepts -cash- (which will be a novelty, because everyone has insurance, after all!) - cash which I don't have at that. And I am sure that the price won't be low either. I won't go into detail of all the reasons and implications of the entire affair, but it is possible to summarize them into one sentence:
I am rather screwed.
splatty |
|
|
| in other words - happy new years |
[Jan. 2nd, 2006|04:59 am] |
| [ | music |
| | cuckoo remix - lisa debenectis | ] |
a little rush anticipation goes away hormonal drain why the motions to undergo when there is no hope anyhow but nevertheless you go the way every day and then you see the bottlecap on the cobblestone road and you bend over to pick it up but oh your back hurts so you kneel and you slip one knee scrapes on ground and it hurts and pain and maybe even scratch or crimson shade of blood but the bottle cap is what you get and you enclose your fingers around it pressing it in your hand and its edges hurt who cares you have it now stand up and leave. please |
|
|
| Snails |
[Oct. 29th, 2005|11:32 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | Grandaddy - Jed's Other Poem (Beautiful Ground) | ] |
Inspired by some beautiful snail photos I have seen today, I've dug this up out of my archives (and yes, I know it doesn't rhyme or make much sense. I wrote it over six years ago, when I was young and innocent).
SNAIL SUPERHERO
I'm a snail superhero
Merchandized superhero
Of a snail...
I defeat an evil villain
Every day one of billion
That's my job...
Pose for the cameras
Infinite lovely cameras
Publicity...
I'm a snail superhero
Merchandized superhero
Of a snail...
Buy my super plush toy
A great marketing ploy
My super comic book
Will catch you by the hook
Buy the computer game
And worship my fame
Every day...
LIVE on every channel
Pictured on every panel
Playing on every set
Propaganda without let
Worship me...
Hero of the Earth
Savior of your purse
Picture movie star
Sponsor of your car
Snail superhero
The slimy superzero
Of a snail
I'm a snail superhero
Merchandized superhero
Of a snail... |
|
|
| Twelve Days Left |
[Oct. 19th, 2005|02:28 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  melancholy | ] |
In twelve days, I will give up my keys to this place and, if I can't find any place until then, which is rather unlikely, all things considered, I will be homeless. I have had offers to visit people in Canada and California - very, very, tempting, but I do not really want to give up on my free university. Worst case scenerio: I'll be sleeping in the university until I can find a place.
Its a strange feeling. There is so much to do in the time left... I know I have made mistakes, yes, but... I am seeing this with a strange sense of humor. I imagine myself sitting down outside with a hat for coins and a cardboard sign saying: "Need Apartment". And I am sure it would be an interesting adventure - after all, I managed to survive my mother's old place and a redecorated garage, so homelessness shouldn't be that bad. Its just ungood because I rather like being clean and washed - I need to find some sporthall showers or something.
Its at time like this where I wish I had more friends over here. Its so hard to connect with the people at the university - they come from a different generation, from a different life. I have mentioned my upcoming troubles yesterday to a handful of acquaintances, but it didn't really "click" for them yet. They can't imagine not having a place to stay - well, I can't either, but I know that is what it is going to happen unless I get extremely lucky.
This weekend I'll start tossing away stuff and packing - I at least have to find a place for my important papers and files and the like. I am not materialistic - I have lost everything I owned once before when my parents threw away all of my toys when moving to America in 1991, including one or two very valuable heirlooms I would have prefered to keep. But now... I can lose anything, as long as I have backup CDs of what I have written. I am not that worried yet.
So yes - in case any of you is reading this: this is what is happening to me. And if it happens, I'll update as often as I can from the university computer labs. Funny how I'll have easier access to the Internet than basic living conditions.
splatty |
|
|
| splatty looks back on twenty-five years |
[Sep. 28th, 2005|10:02 pm] |
About a month ago I had my 25th birthday. I originally wrote this that evening, but it is no longer accurate - many things have changed, I have changed, the world has been acting differently. This is one of the rare cases where one DOES feel different after a birthday. But I'll reprint this here so that you have a basic update of my life (up to last month).
( Read more... ) |
|
|
| Again, I am still alive |
[Jun. 15th, 2005|05:46 pm] |
Things are changing - even moreso than before. I just wanted to leave a small note behind so that nobody starts worrying. And again, I leave behind a promise that I will soon update you all on some of the interesting or annoying or entertaining things which deal with the life of splatty. Very soon. I think I have a whole bunch to catch up on... and let you all of you know.
Oh, just to connect to previous entries - yes, I have finally managed to convince myself this weekend to start reading through the East German sci-fi books, and completed the first book. I'll probably post a small review on it, and then continue on the rest. :-p
splatty |
|
|
| tangent: splatty steals a shopping cart |
[May. 13th, 2005|09:00 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | guilty | ] |
Those metallic shifty wagons in which you are supposed to carry your worldly goods in if you are poor and homeless, named "shopping carts", "grocery wagons", or "that damn thing just rolled over my foot." They accept single euros as collateral so that you can free them from their chaingang existance, and once you return them, they spit out the euro again while glaring at your treachery.
I stole one of them. I took it home with me a few days ago with false promises, using it to carry groceries of my household. I shoved it across the streets, and then through the back door of the apartment building, squeezed into the elevator with it (and I may or may not have copped a feel with it), and then rolled it into the apartment. After unloading it, I thanked it for its help and asked if it wanted to stay for a bit. It assented, and I rolled it into my room, where it has remained since.
It is currently serving as a rucksack-holder and jacket stand, and the lower shelf is just the perfect size to act as a shoe-holder. I might not actually have any room left in the room, and I have to make myself even thinner than I am to enter or exit it, but... I am quite happy with it. I am just afraid that the owners will start to worry and start razzias against all of the nearby homes in order to rescue the poor kidnapped wagon.
Or rather, I was just too lazy to bring it back, especially because its embaressing if you push a buggy around while everyone in five miles stares at you because you are causing enough horrible, horrible noise that the patients at the next door hospital sneak into the ambulances in order to turn on the siren. And I am not that much in need of that euro yet.
My name is splatty, and I am a shopping cart thief.
splatty |
|
|
| REBOOT |
[May. 13th, 2005|04:37 pm] |
Well, that was quite interesting.
Things have been happening - a lot of things.
splatty |
|
|
| retroentry: splatty hits the trash jackpot |
[Mar. 16th, 2005|03:35 am] |
Okay, this is one of those promised retro-entries, from WAY BACK on the 2nd of February. I had posted it elsewhere, but I am posting it here to keep everything all together. Here you go.
Its amazing what people throw away.
This evening I went out into the city wilderness to take out some mail to send off and to return the Star Wars trilogy I had borrowed to show splatterchick, who had never seen the movies before. As soon as I was outside I realized that I had landed in the middle of that strange German "holiday" called Sperrmüll.
Every few months, the city allows lazy people to dump all of their huge useless trash which doesn't fit into their trash cans on the curb for trash trucks to pick up and crush the next day. It is the day when people glance into their cellars and then decide to get rid of their life-sized Marilyn Monroe statues, broken computer monitors, and half-eaten through stools.
As I picked my way past these mounds of decadent waste, I avoided the typical number of scavengers which flock on these days to pick up rare whole and otherwise usuable goodies for their homes - or in some cases, to sell in Eastern Europe at a profit.
On the way to the nearest mailbox, I passed by a man who was glancing at a book in a box - shining into it with a pocket flashlight. I noted to myself, hmm... books, and on my way back I stood next to the man and looked inside, saying, "Books" out loud. The man tossed the books aside and went off, which meant either of two things: a) the books were crap, or b) they were the types of books I like (which aren't exclusive, mind you).
I reached inside the box, half-buried by broken shelves, and picked up a book and glanced at the cover. "Chase Across The Asteroids!" and then the next one: "The Dam Against The Wall Of Ice - A Scientific-Utopian Novel". I knew I had hit the jackpot. I picked up a total of eight books from there, passed by the video/dvd rental place (and had the lady there ask if I had robbed a library), and jumped joyously home.
And then the splatterchick say them. She looked at me, asked if there had been any more over there. I answered that I had seen two or three, but I hadn't had enough tentacles to carry them all. She commanded me to take a bag and go out again - better to save the good books and give the others away than to let them all be crushed.
So then I went out again, arrived at the hidden box, and started digging through the papers and putting the books into the bag just glancing over the titles. Soon, I looked back down at the bag and cursed. It was already full.
In the end, I somehow managed to walk home with a bursting bag of books with its handle wrapped around my hand and a whole load of other books held between my hands like an accordian - and by the hope it wouldn't explode and cause them to fly everywhere on the street.
The second haul of books was 42 books - a nice portion of them hardcover, 95% of them science fiction (I think a Jane Austin book smuggled itself in there somehow). The books were mostly published in the late seventies, early eighties, in various states of quality from quite good to not so good, but all still easily readable, and some are a bit moist from the weather outside, but nothing that my heater and good care can't correct (*glances at the drying books*).
And the best thing of all - most of them are EAST GERMAN science fiction, which has never been released over here in West Germany (or even nowadays in United Germany). They never called science-fiction that over there - they always called it "phantastic-utopian fiction" or "scientific-utopian fiction". Pure socialist joy.
The above-mentioned book "The Chase Across The Asteroids", printed in the "Karl-Marx Hall", actually has a little note in the inside that it had recieved an official award from the Ministry of Culture.
I feel like an archeologist after discovering a new pot full of ancient texts. I wonder why the owner wanted to toss these all away, and I feel so lucky that I was there at the right time at the right place.
splatty |
|
|
| 2005 |
[Mar. 13th, 2005|11:58 pm] |
Well, I am still alive, obviously enough.
I am currently getting prepared to move in a week, so I probably won't be able to update this journal much until I am settled in, which can be up to a month or two due to the entire hassle. But don't worry, I haven't forgotten you all - and I'll see if I can fill you in on the past few months before I leave for digital nirvana.
splatty |
|
|
| Fans |
[Jan. 23rd, 2005|09:10 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  cheerful | ] |
I currently have two mini fan games in my name and honor. It has also come to my attention today of my first fan comic, based on a chat room quote: Here. I wonder if this is starting to become a trend.
Oh, make that three fan games. This IS a trend.
splatty |
|
|
| A moment passed |
[Jan. 22nd, 2005|03:20 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  contemplative | ] |
Tears just arrived to my eyes, along with a feeling of faint sadness. I don't know why.
splatty |
|
|
| I am a prostitute, yay? |
[Jan. 21st, 2005|04:46 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  amused | ] |
Visualize the following scene.Visualize the following scene.
I was walking happily through the industry sector of my city on the way to work (actually, soon-to-be-ex-work), the huge letter-and-other-assorted-stamped-things sorting hall of German Postal Service. I was close enough to see the giant yellow bull in front of the building (to symbolize the sharevalue) and the quaint yellow flags waving halfheartedly in the wind.
A dark car drives out of the parking lot and drives along the road towards me. As soon as it is almost my "level", so to say, the car starts to break and come totally to a stop more or less next to me, with a meter or two between me and it. As if controlled by pure magic, the carwindow on my sid begins to sink into the door, and I look inside curiously.
The driver of the car, however, wasn't leaning out in order to ask me the way towards some street I have never heard before, as is usually the case in such situations. No, he just stared right ahead, his hands on the steering wheels, as if he was waiting for me to make my move.
He was conspiciously NOT making any eye contact at all.
I waited a second to see if he was going to say something, but since he seemed to be quite comfortable in obviously ignoring me, I walked on, slightly confused. Glancing back, I saw the car window roll back up, and the man drove off into the distance.
Now - it can be that this man was simply quite nervous and shy, and couldn't ask me where the Tübingerstrasse or where the nearest IKEA was. However, the entire scene reminded me way to much at any typical documentary or movie scene of... streetwalker-style prostitution. Was I expected to walk over, lean casually through the open window and ask the man what his interests were?
I wouldn't neccessarily think so, because I don't think that I am the type, and while it is a relatively isolated industry sector where very few people walk around, there are other locations more known for streetwalker prostitution in my city, both heterosexual and homosexual. And I don't feel or look the type, in my own opinion, which just makes the situation even more confusion.
I was walking happily through the industry sector of my city on the way to work (actually, soon-to-be-ex-work), the huge letter-and-other-assorted-stamped-things sorting hall of German Postal Service. I was close enough to see the giant yellow bull in front of the building (to symbolize the sharevalue) and the quaint yellow flags waving halfheartedly in the wind.
A dark car drives out of the parking lot and drives along the road towards me. As soon as it is almost my "level", so to say, the car starts to break and come totally to a stop more or less next to me, with a meter or two between me and it. As if controlled by pure magic, the carwindow on my sid begins to sink into the door, and I look inside curiously.
The driver of the car, however, wasn't leaning out in order to ask me the way towards some street I have never heard before, as is usually the case in such situations. No, he just stared right ahead, his hands on the steering wheels, as if he was waiting for me to make my move.
He was conspiciously NOT making any eye contact at all.
I waited a second to see if he was going to say something, but since he seemed to be quite comfortable in obviously ignoring me, I walked on, slightly confused. Glancing back, I saw the car window roll back up, and the man drove off into the distance.
Now - it can be that this man was simply quite nervous and shy, and couldn't ask me where the Tübingerstrasse or where the nearest IKEA was. However, the entire scene reminded me way to much at any typical documentary or movie scene of... streetwalker-style prostitution. Was I expected to walk over, lean casually through the open window and ask the man what his interests were?
I wouldn't neccessarily think so, because I don't think that I am the type, and while it is a relatively isolated industry sector where very few people walk around, there are other locations more known for streetwalker prostitution in my city, both heterosexual and homosexual. And I don't feel or look the type, in my own opinion, which just makes the situation even more confusion.
splatty, having experienced this two days ago |
|
|
| Wait - its 2005 already? |
[Jan. 21st, 2005|04:42 am] |
First, a short and sweet post to tell all of you people that I am still alive and well, and I haven't forgotten this little journal of joy. I guess there is a bunch of things to tell you, but... well, I don't remember what they are. Oh, I am losing my job in two weeks, as I predicted - I guess that is important info. Otherwise - that's all, I guess. At least, all that is for public consumption... except:
Scroll up to next entry for something interesting.
splatty |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
| |
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
splattergnome's journal