Because of a show I started to watch last week I remembered my Latin teacher. The names and some of the words they use sounded so familiar that I asked myself, how is this possible? My last Latin class was in the year 1999. And let me tell you I was terrified to upset my teacher back then. It was only in university a professor for general psychology (she deserves her own post, lol) had a similar impact on me as this teacher. It is not that you are afraid of the them. It is this respect for them that makes it nearly impossible for you to upset them or face them or speak a word to them, haha. All you do is admiring them from a distance and it’s worth to mention that it is very hard to catch my attention as an authority or authoritarian personality. I’m believe in auto-didacticism and the things life teaches us. Back to this teacher, three years prior to my last Latin class (11 students celebrated with a very loud morning party their Latin proficiency certificate) this woman came into the class room as a relief teacher. We were 31 students in the Latin class and only the 11 mentioned before survived. Our knowledge in Latin was down to zero. All we did was ignoring our very incompetent teachers, some threw paper balls at them, or drew hands or eyes in our (my) notebooks. I believe I still have one of those somewhere. So when she first entered this room filled with teen age monkeys jumping around, she stood there for 3 minutes and didn’t say a word. Then she raised her voice, in fact it wasn’t even loud, and said: SIT! And absolutely everyone sat down. O.o
Nayla's Reflection…
A Dichter’s Tale
Dichter is the German word for poet, you said, before you knew “I was German.”
There were a couple of things I needed to tell you but before I knew what and how to out speak it, everything was gone already. The days became quiet again. The urge to know things about you or your well-being has completely vanished and got replaced by the urge to keep you away from me and my life; to protect myself from the endless drama you create for yourself and everyone around you. The calm life you desire will be always destroyed by your need of (good or bad) sensation. Let me be clear, I don’t hate you. I forgave you for my own sake. A few weeks ago the sun began to shine and the first rays of spring light kissed my injuries and warmed my heart every day a little more. But as much as I make the sound of it so beautiful, I want you to know that things have been awful. I feel a little sick today, but that’s okay. I wasn’t really careful the last days. But what counts to me is this, your face is slowly fading, the days are busy and things happen everyday. It took me a long time and hard fights to be that way. You were right, it’s a time of acute grief and life goes on. It must go on. But what you don’t know is, that this grief sealed and ended almost everything. You were so irresponsible. I believe your words weren’t much of a problem for me back then, when you told me the things you told me, after romancing for such a long time, as much as they were painful to recognize that you were referring to yourself. That you knew about how to forget and cut important people and encounters out of your life because you passed through these stages a lot. It made me upset that you planned to forget about me and the feelings you had for me. I wasn’t buying anything when we met. But your feelings I knew were real. And this is maybe the only thing I treasure and respect. But the day came I told myself, if you plan to forget me I will forget you faster. And if you plan to cut me, I will cut you harder. It’s funny though as I have never applied this ego talk on anything in my life. But I guess after everything I have been through, after all the people I have watched getting into and out of my life, it was you who made me learn in the most drastic way. Loss is necessary. There was absolutely none like you. In both – the most heavenly and evil – ways. Sometimes I wonder how all of these things happened. You could have stopped it from day one. We talked for the first time around one year ago. When I think about you and the situation in May 2011, I seemed like your last resort. You grabbed hold, you stuck around and leached me out. The last pieces of sanity that kept me alive, were replaced by the illusions full of love you drew for us. You played with my dreams and my hopes and fought your way into my heart. “Let me in”, were sincere words. But what you wanted “in there” is still a big question mark. Among all the things you told me, I always remember this.
Go to Bed
Yesterday I fell over my suitcase I haven’t unpacked yet – why unpacked? I lived a long time from a suitcase I forgot the feeling of having a wardrobe. My subconscious seems to believe also, I will need it very soon again. I was inattentive when I walked around because of many thoughts in my mind, and the unreasonable heels of course. And to be honest, I believe I was about to faint due to a dehydration I haven’t paid attention to all day. Usually I take better care of myself. A mistake. After a weird stunt I landed on my butt and injured my knee and my shoulder, which I only recognized in the morning of the next day. Nothing dramatic. Sitting on the floor and after hysterically laughing at myself and mourning my love for a broken finger nail, I realized how comfortable my carpet is and I laid down and observed the white ceiling. I accepted it as a sign to put my racing heart and mind at rest. The human body, I thought, is so vulnerable. So make it rest, or it will make you fall on your butt when you least expect it. So repeat my mantra, dear self…
Go to bed.
[ArtPics] Caught Moments
This reminded me so much of you Rika..
Source: ArtPics
Origami Butterfly
So ever since my Origami rose disaster I decided to go for something easier bearing in mind that this rose is driving me nuts; and that I need to watch some PS tutorials online..
Origami Butterfly
Scars
I’m now 21 and it’s still hard for me to look at my reflection without feeling regret. But as much as the scars bother me, I also know that the intense misery and pain that I used to feel have faded. For me, that’s what really matters. -Bobbi Black
Source: fabulousmag.co.uk via Leilah on Pinterest
Kafka on the Shore
A while ago I went to a bookstore to find new books for the next weeks. I wasn’t really happy with the selection and almost left with a book I had already read in German until one of the shelves attracted my attention. It was a book title that tickled my perception, or precisely the word “Kafka” in the title. Now I have to say that I’m a huge fan of Kafka’s work or of most of the old German writers. I started to book the same day in a café and I sat there for hours. Throughout reading I didn’t know where to place the book. Haruki Murakami is apparently a best-selling author and I’m ashamed to admit I haven’t read anything of Japanese writers before. Kafka turned out to have nothing in common with the Kafka I had in mind and also the plot was nothing as I had expected. As they say, don’t judge a book by its cover or in this case – the title. I’m very careful when it comes to recommending books because in the course of years I became a quite critical reader and also I can’t say what people expect. But this one I perceive as a masterpiece of foreign culture, but apart from that it is a very thought-provoking book full of riddles and inspiration.
