Posts Tagged ‘life’

Adults Only: Sexiness

Wednesday, November 26th, 2008

When I started thinking on this subject, it seemed to me that I have too little competence. But the results of the intellectual sexiness test strengthened my self-love and induced me to finish what had been started and to publish it.

Strawberries

On the one hand, sex sells and the TV sets as well as the press kiosks are full of half-stripped bodies. On the other hand, it tends to be paltry, intimate, or vulgar to talk about sexiness among literate people. Some avoid talking about it maybe because they feel not being physically attractive and hope to get attention for other achievements. Others might think that this theme should only be touched in a sleeping room with their second halves, and everybody who expresses herself publicly is an impudent fool. The brave ones manipulate sexiness and go forward to the bright future. And I am just inviting you to contemplate about that.

In my opinion, sexiness is one of the features of a perfect person. And, I’d say, it is only one fifth of nature and the rest is the effort of will. But what is it? You cannot learn it at school (probably unless that’s a school for models). Everyone conceives that differently, but I try to understand the essence.

As a smart guy from the past said once, a healthy mind is in a healthy body(1). Every person needs at least hygiene and body care. The stinking smell of sweat is not attractive. Uncomfortable overweight is not alluring. Neither are various diseases. I guess, the wish to have a healthy partner is related to subconscious will to get healthy descendants and to have a close person who will help you to support them. You don’t need enormous welfare nor efforts for tasty healthy food, vitamins, a little bit more active lifestyle, and a piece of soap.

If you take off your shirt or put on tights, that won’t mean that you become sexy immediately. For example, totally frozen girls without jackets or other warmer cloths waiting in the rows at clubs in London, raise nothing but a pity. Sexy cloths are those which emphasize the body shapes, but one shouldn’t forget that each cloth has its own wearing time.

Not only the external looks is important, but also behavior and manners, body language, sights, voice, and the activeness during the intimate moments. Feminine girls are sexy to me, as well as manly guys are probably sexy to girls(2). I comprehend the femininity and the manliness not only as the external features, but also as a trait of character which reflects in the behavior. Mild and graceful girls are more attractive to me than clumsy vixens. I guess, tough and determined guys with high self-esteem attract girls more than shy cowards sitting in dark corners.

Related movies:

  • Lost in Translation – erotic platonic love.
  • Swimming Pool – women of different generations fall in love with the same guy.
  • Closer – the tangle of the love stories of two couples.
  • The Dreamers – poetically voluptuous movie about an American in Paris.

Don’t form a false opinion that I consider sexiness the main trait of a personality. Anyway, I would like to know what you think on the subject. Is the sexiness of your girlfriend or boyfriend important to you? Is this human feature worth discussing? Should sexiness be masked in public spaces? What do you think about manipulation by short skirts? Can a person be smart and sexy at the same time? What about moral and sexy?


(1) Mens sana in corpore sano (Juvenal)
(2) I can hardly understand how the sexiness is evaluated among sexual minorities. For example, if one of the gays likes another gay’s femininity, why doesn’t he just choose a woman?

A Personage in Berlin: Uncle Spring

Saturday, November 22nd, 2008

In the gloomy evening of the fall, a grey-headed old man with a bunch of olives trod into a Spanish restaurant. He chose an interlocutor, came close, created an eye-contact, took an old-styled horn-shaped bike signal from his bosom, and pointed the handle to the sitting man to push it. The benevolent and interested visitor of the restaurant seized the handle. “Beeep” was heard in the noise of conversations.

Horn

Then the old man showed his hand rubbing his thumb to the index and middle and having “And now pay for this!” in mind. The visitor of the restaurant shook his shoulders not understanding (or not wanting to understand) this circus. Then the old man slapped a bank-note of 50 € with his face on it onto the table: “If you have no money, I’ll give you some!” After that the old man went to the next table.

50.99 €

Others call him a mad old man, but he looks like a crazy creative to me. So, if you ever get in touch with him, either don’t play his games, or pay for the entertainment.

A Divorce for a Woman was Painful to the Death of her Husband’s Avatar

Saturday, October 25th, 2008

According to newspapers, Japanese police have arrested 43-year-old killer of an avatar. She will have to go to jail for up to 5 years or to pay a fine of 5000 US$ (about 4 thousand Euros).

Maple Story

“I was suddenly divorced, without a word of warning. That made me so angry,” the woman tried to justify.

Japanese go deeply into virtuality. They live parallel lives with artificial names. For example, the victim of this story, 33-year-old office worker, played Maple Story day after day, rising his avatar, virtually communicating with other avatars, and fighting against monsters, but.. But once in the middle of virtual divorce, he found his poor avatar dead, because it was murdered by his virtual “honey”. She made use of the password which was given to her as a proof of love in the past.

Do the conclusions yourself.

Adults Only: How to Get Profit from Poverty?

Wednesday, October 15th, 2008

A beggar came with a limp to the side of the carriage where I was sitting. He sorrowfully asked for an apple, a piece of bread, or a small coin for food. Just after noticing that nobody cares about him, the healthy man went to the other side of the carriage in a hurry. Time is money, isn’t it!? How to fight against poverty will be written by others. I shall tell you what you can learn from lazy cheaters.

Bender from Futurama

First level.
If you don’t feel poor enough, start with spirits. As my St. uncle said in a party, all one needed in life was a beautiful wife, kids, and Internet. That’s not for you. Lose everything. Return back your books to the library. Work slowly to get fired. Stop studying. Say “Fcuk off!” to your family. Increase the amounts of alcohol until you forget your targets in life and it loses its colors. Grumble, complain, curse, and shrink into yourself. There is no truth in life! You are not gifted and you will never reach anything. You have no high school education so you won’t get any job. No dreams will come true. Everything is hopeless. Only others are lucky (the fcuking capitalists and the heads of the government). All are selfish. Only alcohol is your true friend, relief, and relaxation. Only alcohol..

Second level.
Make use of your conditions. Register to Labor Exchange to get unemployment grants. Use water sparingly: don’t wash yourself and your cloths. You will look more miserable and will make others pity. Beg the passers-by. You can collect more in luxurious restaurants than at the entrance to a supermarket, but you have to hurry up. The security guys are always on the watch to catch you and to kick you out. Manipulate emotions. When asking for charity, mention an incurable disease and expensive medicament, or little hungry kids at home. Drop a tear: if a business man stays rigid, at least his wife will be deeply touched. Sometimes you can traverse the cafes with accordion playing a disgusting melody. The more bothering the melody is, the more money will be accumulated by the visitors of the cafe as they will all desire you to go away ASAP. In a few hours you can collect as much money as for bread and meat paste, as well as for a couple of vodka bottles which you can share with your new friends at the den of Misha.

Third level.
Exploit children. Have you got a baby? Go begging carrying him in your arms. Hungry and pooped baby will cry more and people will feel more sorry for him. Do you imagine what a treasure it is!? Is your kid of the age to go to school? The school will wait!.. Send him to beg. He will collect as much as for semolina porridge and daily bottles, and for the entertainment near the train station too. The child should learn from life. Have you got more kids? The more you have, the more profitable it is. Large families get allowance. A dozen is not a limit – the elder children will take care about the younger ones. Soon you will manage to build an illegal device for home-made vodka in a forest and sell the product to your neighbors. But be careful! Too high profit might roll you down to the first level.

Bonus points.

  • Get a four-legged friend. You will have a faithful companion and also at least it will gain attention.
  • If you have a wound, don’t heal it and let it mortify. You can demonstrate your rotten leg at the entrance to a church and so you’ll collect even more money.
  • Thank and wish a good day even to people who don’t give you anything. Let them feel uncomfortable!

Such small changes can do that much..

A Personage in Berlin: Jesus

Saturday, October 4th, 2008

Just after getting into the train jesus(1) stopped at the door, turned back, and said: “So you are German as well, aren’t you?”
There had been no interlocutor yet. But the door closed and a handsome man with charming eyes and orderly beard appeared in front of him in the reflection of the window.
“So you are Berliner? I am also from Berlin”
The ragamuffin turned his head to the side coquettishly and ran his hand over his long hair. He felt so womanly, especially near such a perfect man! A chat continued for a few minutes. Then the interlocutor left at the station. So jesus sat down on a seat among other passengers. He took a wool sponge and started “powdering” his face.

I have seen at least three such jesuses in Berlin. They never beg. They never sell the magazines of the homeless. I have never seen them drunk. And they’re always alone. Nobody wants to keep company with such slovenly people. Everyone always keeps in a distance. Therefore they create their second halves. They create their friends to believe in and to trust.


(1) The name mentioned has no direct pointers to religion. The association is used only to strengthen the description of appearance.

Clear Cache

Monday, September 1st, 2008

“I feel depressed today…”
“What’s wrong?”
“I have too much information in my head”
“So clear the cache?”
“Perhaps I should drink much alcohol and lose some of my brain cells?”
“But then you won’t be able to control which information to keep!..”

Exploded Without Panic

Thursday, January 17th, 2008

If I don’t show up in the blog after this entry, I will have probably been exploded.

Eins, zwei, drei - Polizei

Tobi returned today from his lunch break and asked me:
“Did you hear the news!?”
“What news?”
“The inspectors found a bomb here in the train station.”
“What!? What bomb?”
“Bomb! Boom! From the Second World War. It’s about 20 kg.”
“So what? Was it in the main station?”
“No. Here. In Hackescher Markt. If it’s true, then they will… evakuieren… the whole area in the distance of 5 km”
“Yea? So we’ll go home? And how will they inform us?”
“They will come here directly or will tell everybody with loudspeakers”
“So how did you learn about that bomb?”
“I was at a bank with a friend of mine. And then many police cars came to the district. Some policemen went there. So we asked them, what happened. They told us.”

Another colleague heard the rumor and the whole life passed in his mind. His eyes became moist under glasses.
“Na ja. Historical heritage…” – he said taking a sigh. He got a baby not long ago and now such a danger threatens his life and all the happiness that he had created while living. Or maybe he had even lost some relatives during some explosion…

I decided that it’s the time for my lunch break too, and I need to pry there. If we explode, we’ll explode anyway. Five kilometres is a large distance. There is no difference to die due to direct explosion wave or due to the fallen wall.

Yup. There were plenty of police cars lined up in an arc in the square of Hackescher Markt. The special forces were ready for unexpected in their positions… Some punks decided to sit down with their curs in the middle of the arc and to make an impression to the passers that all that police came here because of them. Fluxus.

Cheerful company and the flustered men from special forces

Ehm.. Where could the bomb be undug? I took a walk around the train station. A-ha. There was some construction on the other side between the train station and “Instituto Cervantes” where Kristina had attended Spanish courses. But no police was over there. Was it so for the reason not to raise a panic in the city? There were just a few workers. Oh. These two had just carried some heavy thing to a container. I could manage to see that while they were closing the door. What was that, it wasn’t clear. Was it a bomb? Oh. And and there a tractor was coming… Was everything executed quietly holding horses? And was the police just diverting the attention? Anyway, it didn’t matter… However, I wanted to take photos of those punks.

Kids, it's time to go home!

So I went to the studio to take my photo camera. And then back again. Click. Click. Pop. Pop. The police was already sending the punks home. Click. Pop. And then while returning I turned to Starbucks for some coffee with caramel. It might be the last coffee in my life.

People were calm there. A normal life was is in full swing. I taught the seller to spell my name. She associated that with the opera: “Oh! That’s almost like AIDA!” I forgot to ask the coffee to go, so I had to sit down and watch the calmness.

There were a forty-year-old couple who had become acquainted not long ago and they met again and flattered with each other. While he was waiting in the queue for coffee, the woman pretended to read a magazine and stroke through her breast with finger tips imagining what would happen later that day. He came back with the coffee. That time he sat down not in front of her, but next to her. Then he pretended to be interested into the theme of reading. Artificial actions were filling in the environment, but the feelings of the couple seemed real.. That’s sweet!

And then two girlfriends who hadn’t seen each other for quite a long time, met over there at the next table. They were really good friends. They hugged each other happily. Soon they would talk about their actualities, make funny jokes, exchange emotions as well as the other two at the third table. That’s nice.

I started watching what had been photographed. I was thinking about the temporariness. I sank into the totality of my life. I wasn’t concentrating to specific points in the history, but rather to the whole complex of what I had achieved for that moment. No. I wouldn’t like to die. The life was beautiful and there were many things that I would want to do. I was thinking about the deeper feelings that had come to me recently. I was thinking about signs and about relations. I wouldn’t like to die! But even if I did, there wouldn’t be any tragedy to me. I couldn’t change something that didn’t depend on me. Was it fate? No! That were just the circumstances created by other people.

And maybe there will still be that boom. And then there won’t be anything anymore neither today, nor in the future. Somebody will have learned the spelling of a new name only for a few hours. Somebody have created a dream which will be shut down soon. Somebody’s talking about life will get stuck in her throat. And my feeling to the girl in a distance will be my last thought.

Mantas (22:28):
oh cool, u know, some slut(1) could have step onto that and there would be a big boom
Aidas aka Archatas (22:28):
And if she exploded, there would be damage for the radius of 5 km
Mantas (22:28):
))))
so there would be no more sluts left in berlin
it would be bad luck to us
))
Aidas aka Archatas (22:29):
There wouldn’t be what to show for the guests
Mantas (22:29):
yup, and where to take them….
that is, to whom

Everybody can die at any time. It shouldn’t necessarily happen because of a bomb, terrorism, or natural disaster. Not always everything depends on ourselves. So we should accept this possibility now, that we could be happy about the best from the past during our last moments, instead of sinking into panic and fear. And we shouldn’t always think about the death. We should think about the life and about the lightest future possible. Unless it will be cut.


(1) The representatives of the oldest occupation of the world gather into this district in the evenings from about nine and offer the passers to play; except the evenings when the Police raids pretend to be there.

Adults Only: Labels

Tuesday, January 8th, 2008

The saying “First impression, best impression” is not always true. They stick a label on you by their first impression and it’s impossible to get it away. And this happens very often.

“I am from Klaipėda too!” – I said to her searching for a theme in common for conversation and acquaintance.
“OK” – she said trying to stop the yawning.
“But now I live and work in Berlin…” – I continued my biographical details.
“Really!?” – her eyes sparkled because of interest.

Wherever I’ve been, everybody sticks labels to each other by the first impressions. And only open-minded people see others as they are, not what they’re similar to.

Just tell some Lithuanian that you work abroad, and (s)he’ll stick a label on you reading “Traitor of the Motherland”, “Interesting and Experienced Personality”, or “Pretender to Ensure My Material Wealth”. Just tell some German that you are from Lithuania, and you’ll get a stamp on your forehead reading “Primitive”, “Cheap Slut”, or “Parasite in My Working Place”.

“So don’t say you are Lithuanian” – some Slovenian offered me at the meetup of Django users in Berlin – “Represent yourself as a programmer, inline-skater, or a representative of your company, but not as Lithuanian.
“But I am not ashamed of being Lithuanian” – the hopelessly tough voice from my mouth answered.

The glued labels pull a weak person to his brand and take away from the real (actually formed) ego. If the surrounded expect something from me, I must fulfill their waitings and my image. If the others say that I am an egoist, then it must be so. Otherwise, they might think something wrong about me. If people say that I am an artist, I must be an artist and must create arts. If people try to convince me that I am a clown, I must make them laugh further. I’m too weak to rip of the label.

A yawning break.

At some point the label becomes your visit card. Your image becomes yourself. You become the reflection of yourself in the mirror.

My label is my nickname. It’s my label by myself. “Archatas” pulls me to the shining. I write nonsense and imagine myself as very clever and educating people.

Here is a manifest to sum up what I’ve written:

  • Don’t evaluate new people by shallow associations.
  • Create your image yourself.
  • Represent your country by your qualities, not stupidities.