Frankly speaking, I’ve always had problems with self-perception and identification. Whether due to the need to follow a thoroughly prescribed behavioral protocol since early childhood and further inability to distinguish between the authentic and the imposed or some other reasons, I could never coin my entity into words. Perhaps, questions in the spirit of “How would you describe yourself?” and “What do you like?” have … Continue reading Differentiation of the self in a Postmodern society

Why Keep Wearing UK4 when You Are a Legit 12? Past and present: correlation? Anyone remembers one of my first publications on the childhood traumas? Yeah, the one with an array of pretentious phrasal verbs, inappropriate sarcasm, and yet legitimately virtuous intentions. Still sets a proud place in my head, rent free. If no, you are more than welcome to press the button and watch … Continue reading Overgrowing Trapping Behavioural Patterns: The Art of Coping Mechanisms as Addictions

Can you skip the intro? Yes. Will the laws of karma let it go? No.

General Reflections

Long time no see, I’d say. Almost 3 months have passed since I published something meaningful for the last time. Still, in my defense, I can officially declare that, in some sense, I have been unconsciously gathering material experience to write about something I have personally been through. Precisely, about some life novelty that would have challenged my relatively rooted mindset at least for a bit, since I could still type a fucking thesis on Universal debates about the absence of subjectivity, defining power of perception or social acceptance. Blah blah blah. Choose your fighter. At this very moment, however, it feels like whilst my ‘now’ remains a vivid concern, not yet put into the folder ‘memories’, all I want is to perpetuate it in its pure shape. Just the way it is: authentic and naively astonishing. The chances are that, a few months later, that tiny epiphany which now urges a handful of my stereotypes to fall apart, would be already deeply integrated into my new set of unwritten life rules. Another color-faded affirmation I would obediently, yet solely automatically adhere to. You can warm your meal up later any time; although, fresh would always taste better, right? The same principle works for describing your feelings: if you are too late, the narrative will be based on the relics of your blurred reflections. Cold, hella dry, and what’s the worst – artificially cultivated. So, yes, timing matters. Eternal things can be mulled over every now and then since neither Sartre nor Spinoza seems like spilling any more wisdom into this world, and I genuinely believe we’ll come to talk about it later someday. As for now, we remain young and hopelessly clueless, so let’s just focus on something present, relevant, and relatively guiding. I mean, at least I hope it would be so, and let me know if I failed (so far, I’ve been screwing things a lot and, not to brag, enviably well). You see, I have a pretty clear division of content: my diary, just as all the random pieces of paper I can find within the one-meter radius and scribble on, are destined for me, and you can imagine it hasn’t experienced 3-month gap since 2015. Otherwise, I would have probably typed this straight from the madhouse rather than home: paper has been my anchor for a pretty long time. This blog, in contrary, is meant to be for you and at your disposal. No overthinking and, ideally, a strict limit on any manifestations of negative vibes: so far, my objective has remained stable – being a delusional friend of yours, shaped in verbs and nouns on the blue screen. And, if one day, the nonsense I write happens to serve as a benchmark or a reliable hand one can hold onto when drifting through tough times, that would be more than enough for me.

Hope. One of the three theological virtues, opposite to the sin of despair. I definitely suck at faith and charity but I do hope. And, as long as my words can help at least one single soul, I will continue doing so at all costs.

Indeed, our goal is to learn how to operate with what’s given instead of bragging about reality’s evident imperfections. And trust me: dwelling down the spirals of a depressive mindset doesn’t really require a surplus of gray matter or enlightenment. Nope. Indulging in radical pessimism when stumble is the easiest thing your ass could do, and I know what I’m talking about. Getting up requires balls, so let’s put the end to this melancholic bullshit I’ve written above and grow ’em all together. Lord, no wonder not a single magazine wants to hire me after receiving a portfolio with a 0 level of tolerance. Anyways, folks, grab your tea, Cirque du Poleil is just about to open its doors after a three-month rest. Continue reading “General Reflections. Directions We Take. Brain or Feelings?”

Eternally grateful to those who have been dragging me out of the mold of hesitation. Your faith makes me grow. And I’m standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff – I mean if they’re running and they don’t look where they’re going I have to come … Continue reading Veni, Vidi, and Ran Away: Fear of the Future

Sup. I mean, I would have said something more welcoming, but here is the thing: this post has been done for almost 3 weeks, as I reckon. Here’s another thing: right at the point when I finished typing and exhaled with those ‘I-am-a-good-boiii” vibes, I had a shot of harsh epiphany. It appeared as a flickering spam on some dumpy website “YoU vE JusT WoN … Continue reading Fake Identities, Here We Go

Sup, 2ch. Today we’re going to cover one of the most essential topics (just as if there was not enough trouble in the world, lol) for the major part of the population – relationship. Indeed, the embedded belief that each person is destined to meet their “other half” (do not puke on the screen yet, please) in order to feel sufficient and socially valid. This, … Continue reading It’s a Match. Status: Eternally Looking for Love

Dormir plutôt que vivre. Dans un sommeil aussi doux que la mort. Charles Baudelaire, Le Léthé It’s tough. When you take a pause in your craft, meanwhile, it seems like you will never be able to resume it again. Is that just brain playing a trick? Who knows, man. To be honest, I just can’t see the point of making updates on my personal life … Continue reading Сhildhood Traumas: Nice Excuse, huh?