Back to the basics

There's hardly anything better than 2-D japanese gay guys. Youka Nitta ("Haru wo Dateita") is a genius mangaka, although not that brilliant story writer. Sanami Matoh ("Fake") on the other hand is a great great writer and a pretty good graphic artist, too. I liked her when i was younger, probably cause its more fun than just sex and sex again, but now I just stick to Nitta's monothematic fluff man2man action.

This whole maturita thing may seem to drive me nuts, but believe me, I was into yaoi when I was 13 and I will always be. I have already written three complete concepts of my own 4 % comics, but I just dont have the nerves to draw it all. (Even though that Carl-Barat-y character doing it with the Ricky-Wilson-y character was more than a pleasant picture)

...I'm so emo it makes me cry

Once again.

My existencialist burnout syndrome brought by postmodern society!

Who cares.

I feel little, lost, false and attentionless.

Something tells me I shouldn't post my emotional diaorrheas here, but where else?
Ad universities, I have picked wrong wrong wrong ones. Faculties full of carreer craving intellectual transformers. But yes, it is also cause they kicked me out from those who were not.
Ad friends... well... what kind of person am i when i am just constantly jealous of them.
Ad me... I wanna get out.. somewhere far. Not like Ulanbatar-far, but at least England-far. You kno. Work in a hostel. Not bothering anyone. Would be coolness.

Podělusy vol. II

Heh. Teda řeknu vám, že pokud je vaše první asociace na štípání dřeva "Jarmark Marnosti" (napsal ho přeci pan "Sekery") , Hálkovy hry si připomínáte přes knížete pornofolku a místo tabletek pro řidiče TIRáků (zn. Confit) si nabízíte Machara (sb. Confiteor), tak to už vážně může znamenat jen dvě věci - buď to začínáte umět, nebo vám prostě jen hrabe.

On Hiatus

(no real point of this pseudo Emil Holub here - i just love art. You know. Posh art. Really valuable, original art.)


From tomorrow its exactly 1 month (4 weeks) to the maturitas (or banana, but that's an inside joke)

I have this chart where i make stars that symbolize the amount of stuff i know from each question and so far this chart looks like a total wasteland. But I am off to Podělusy once again and I hope it will be as productive as the last time - I just gotta get more coffee somewhere on my way there. Lot of coffee. Oh yeah.

Basically I wanted to say I don't have time and I don't want to see anyone since he's going to teach me the EU structure or modern philosophy or avantgarde poets. It's not that I would be doing some serious study instead of possible hangouts with anyone. Um. I know I know, other people manage to study AND hang out with sexy mods AND take pictures AND be loved by all. Not me. Not me.

I have lots of things I want to do after the banana, so I swear I won't be this boring then.

The Parisian Bum

Le clochard parisien
(or what kind of poetry can a person who's just seen the grammar rules of French for the first time produce)

je reste,
attendu que quelque advenira
et ensuite,
ouïs une haleine
-périodique et rapide-
ressentis le en mon gorge
est possible qu'le es tu
et je demande:
suis-je fou?
suis-je amoureux?
Et tu?
allons-y acheter une bouteille de vin
et faire l'amour toute la nuit

And after all, life is still worth living

I don't really have anything to say as far as verbal communication is concerned.



I just feel like lot of people care about things that are worthless in comparison to life itself, life which cost loads of slimey creatures their aquatic life when they were left on the land by high tide.

And the greatest art of all is the art of living.

And the art of limiting the number of clichés on one's blog.

Thanks July for her great pics from Podelusy where we had a very intensive geography weekend with oceans of coffee and litres of killer-hot korean noodles. I loved it.

And the moral is:

Dating musicians is wrong.

At least that's what Control made me be sure of.


I know i may be a lil retarded, seeing it yesterday, but I really really wanted to see it on the big screen WITH someone who would enjoy. And - that happened! my friend Michal was tapping his fingers in the rhythm just as I did, not mentioning the moment when Love will tear us apart started. He laughs like awfully dubbed Dolph Lundgren in one of his 80s movies, which amuses me.