just an update

So, I came here, to say, sadly, that this blog is over. Well, it was over a long time ago, but, here I am, here I came, to put a signboard. I am thankful for all the readers that visited this blog regularly or randomly. I see there is still some traffic going around, even though it is in minor numbers (real minor). So I wish to tell you that you can still read my articles (that are definitely not as dense and hard to comprehend as these here), they are still sticking to the principle of personal development, here is the link http://foreignly.wordpress.com

Thank you.


appreciation and depression

"Peter Pan balloon" by jservigna

Are the fogs too thick, or are our eyes the replicas of Oedipus, was this labyrinth too long, so long for it to become our home, the reality, which we so long to cheat. It is like the end, underground, a hundred wise, heroes of action, with triple A and S trophies would not be able to replenish this air, of de, oppression of our minds, brains dried out, and filled with green liquor.

Do teenagers need to live in prisons to feel the freedom, do we need to repeat 1939 to repent on our present thoughts. Do we need to burn the libraries to long for education, knowledge, do we need to break our limbs to feel the appreciation, do we need crush all the lights to regret the darkness we lured.

Is that the only way for us to step back from the cliff, still with tons of reasons to appreciate the view in front, the yellow paint on the blue canvas, the never-ending lines approaching the grains in front of the green forest.

Is the emergency room the only way to emerge to life, do our loved ones need to sacrifice for us, for us to accept the facts, the facts. Why is it that the people with one lung appreciate the air more, people with one arm, use the left one more, people with no family, love their family more.

Where did the promise fade away, that love is in the air, when the only thing we feel is toxic that fills our brains. What happened to the saying about the sun rising at dawn, when the only things rising are zombies evading the light, longing for the night.

What will happen tomorrow, some may know, I just hope, that the pill before the relief won’t consist of the dirt we spit, that the pain won’t be as high as we think we are.

happiness as it was, as it is, as it should be

"White Butterfly" by doug88888

Has the time changed our shape of hearts, is this warmth true warmth, I am sure this coldness is real.

The discovery and appreciation of fire that warmed our homes, cooked our food, protected us from predators and gave us light. Now, we neither appreciate it nor give a thought, a minute for it, while it still helps us keep our lives off the cliff. The bar has totally changed, the red part is overcome centuries ago, while we use every “free” source to fill up the additional part, when did the other part come. Not to mention rain, sunshine, plants, animals, snow, moonlight, and other things there translucent for us, waving for us, things that could fill up the red part and still fill the rest of it.

History may say that the colors were upgrading constantly through the passage of time but in the sense of happiness, the colors were rather fading away. A single day passed unharmed would bring safe dreams, a single meal to fill up our empty stomachs, a few sips of water to kill the thirst would ensure a warm day.

One could say, the times have changed, but the time is same, ticking by the second not changing its rhythm not changing its aim, but we change, and our change was more to the unfortunate. We can blame the Fall, we can blame other people, we can blame the whole history, our thirsts for easy industry. But blaming won’t change us to what we are supposed to be.

The wishes have changed from one single step to hundred miles, from one dog house, to a skyscraper, from a cup of water to artificial lakes. Basic needs are imaginative to our hearts extends. What was used to be is not anymore. Deliberate ignorance for the neighbouring countries that are in the same ball we float in. The word balance is used only for some financial statistics in the business world, that is fake and unbalanced like the world today itself.

What good is all the literature that is drowning in a vortex when we are living in a void with artificial rainbows. One should question if new words are ought to be written, while we are surrounded with libraries of books that are fading. Are all nobels, all poets, all lunatics. Like us following them.

Is the first flight of a butterfly still surrounded by the sun. Is the newborn baby walking alone. Does he hear the whisper of his loved one. Can the mother find her lost daughter. Is turning back the time possible for the boy regretting his actions. Who said you have to walk 100 miles, while one step is enough.

stairway to ibidem

"Bird Sky" by CubaGallery

The world as is today, a total paradise, erm, perdition, no. Why do we look like pieces from an experiment, why do we look like mices that have to find their own way between the walls that look like mirrors. Jealousy, selfish ambition, success, selfish defeat. We have it right inside of us, yet it is the furthest of in all the theory, melancholy.

Why isn’t everything so easy, smooth, why isn’t everything going as we willsh. Is there a destiny, fate, lines already created un-consciously, nu-consciously, for us to follow. Did the nobels just push us into the past future, into the cliff of sorrow.

My mom told me, i can be whatever i wish to be. And yet, i feel as my wish was already drawn at my forehead. I feel as my wish was already appointed and it is the driving force that is way ahead.

Yet, i accept the fact that it is my “heart”, my stairway, that is leading me to the never land. That is leading me to anywhere it wants to lead me. I sometimes feel as i am not the man, the hand that is feeding me, that there is something different that is breathing in me.

And yet, i follow it, without knowing anything about it, without saying hi to it. Do i have to reconcile, do i have to make him a king.

It feels like a another mystery left upon us, and who knows if we will get the answer, the approval. The key, the sword of the paladin to free us from the crawling beings that eat us, and the every thing around us.

Do i have to wake up from my pitiful dreams to see the crisis of mystery unleashed. The ultimate puzzle, the castle unconquered, the son unloved, the sun unloved. Do i have to wake up from my pitiful dreams to see the cries of misery, fake happiness. The time unchanged, the freedom rearranged, the movie rewinded, the people behind it


"Financial Crisis (Frankfurt, Germany)" by Xindaan

Gray, better say black. I believe everyone knows what these colours represent. Decay, lets say death. Sure, black can be beautiful put into a different context, and in a different life. But as the world is shaping, turning, it seems like it isn’t just a ball that is rotating in an inkless space, but it seems like there is an invisible opening that gradually pours darkness on the “innocent” ball.

Worse news is that, it isn’t just colouring the skin of the ball, but ‘ that the ink is being split inside of it. Worse news is that it isn’t just spilling inside of it, but colouring the sources of life, sources that run day and night just so that this ball keeps rotating.

On top of that, we look like we enjoy the taste of black oil. We suck it in, we feel it, we live it. But we don’t realize, that sooner or later, it starts to live as us, like a new beginning, where the beginning isn’t pure red anymore, where it isn’t warm anymore.

Instead of expressing warmness, we pollute the air, we pollute unfortunately not only with fume. We pour blackness on top of already weak colours.

Every moment seems like eternity, and every breath feels like waste. The window seems barely open, the wall seems too high for the light.

Even if we know the way out, it seems like the fog is too thick. We are looking for hundred hands to help us up, while a hundred hands are keeping us down.

open your eyes to everything

"Cute baby!" by ilovecarolke

This, that, this and that… Open your eyes, don’t close it when the other thing comes which wasn’t the first thing you saw. Each and every offers the same teachings, guidelines, principles. It is just wrong when we don’t offer even a thought about them, it is just wrong if we close our door for other friends just because the friend we already have is good enough. Every human is same, although it’s not like i am comparing these two maybe incomparable things.

In Bosnia, we sometimes say, it’s all same, just with different cover, i bet there is this phrase in every part of this big precious ball we live in. I think that there are three stages to people’s opinions… the first one is when we don’t have any opinion about new things, second is we have our own opinions, and we d*** think that they are the “rightest” without any outer thought, and the third and last stage is when we have our opinions while being able to give an unbiased clear thought about different opinions, and of course transferring to it if we get it that it is right.

I’ll say it loud and clear, being in the second stage is poisonous, for us and the people around us, and the world today is pretty poisonous. I could now say, yes… it is not easy to do it, but i won’t… it is not Hard to do it. Like every new change we start, the part of creating that habit is the hardest, but we just have to do it, you’ll have to find your own way to start up your heart to control your mind for one millisecond and do it.

It is funny and sad. How if one group suggests one thing, and an other group the same thing, the followers of each group will believe more to their own groups, while denying the opposite groups. It has been like this for centuries. While, who may know. Maybe both of these groups are wrong.

believe, not fear

"Pretty One" by Thomas Hawk

Humans are random and colorful just like change. Sometimes they come suddenly without flashing us, sometimes we decide about the road of change, but in both ways there is the fear. It is normal.

We were grown by the society to be scared of the unknown, scared of the unseeable and unpredictable. And life can be like that, especially the future that we cannot foresee, future that we cannot fully believe in while we are not fully clean as a human.

These days I have been thinking a lot about change, because i had to choose between two majors for college. After a tons of research of all sorts i managed to see the preferable but i found out that nothing will be clear as a math result, especially things of these sorts that will stick with us to the distant future.

We cannot predict or foresee how it will go after we choose a change but we can stick with it, believe in it and believe in ourselves, because in the end there was a reason for everything, i could bold this.

While we are not fully clean humans we can just hope that the reasons are soft, by the mere believing in our decision we are fortifying it and making the road better for walk.

After a long research we can’t blame ourselves of the change that went bad, because we can never predict the weather perfectly, nature is everywhere and change is a part of it. Just.

If the change is already started, then why don’t stick with it and just dig it until the end.