I feel strange this week.
Disengaged from myself.
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| A past headmaster at our school |
I was at the till of the supermarket today, and the lady was looking at me with concern, she looked like she was seeking something in my face - this sounds weird I know - and I stood there, and smiled, and said, 'No bag, please', but I also felt that she had a reason to be searching for something , because I felt like I wasn't there, that I was just this body, paying for two half price sweet peppers and some half price chicken mince, and even though I spoke, I don't think my eyes were 'there', and this is what she was looking at, my eyes. And not because they were Brad Pitt Blue.
Fushigi.
Then I came 'home' and ate lunch, the delicious Chicken Papaya. Exceedingly good.
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| Scarf $1 Skirt $1 Sweater $1 Boots $10 ARGHHHH Tights $15 ARGHHHHHHH Billions of bottles of wine at $8 drinkdrankdrunk no worries. My spending priorities are fcked. |
Swinging reengaged me with life and I have a funny story to tell.
But right now I feel disengaged again and it's hard to write. I will wait until I really feel like writing.
Instead I will read.
"Nowhere in Europe is the legacy of Nazi war crimes so unresolved as in Croatia."
5 comments:
Your past headmaster did very well in life for a man with no arms.
Croatia was extremely keen on Nazism as it allowed them to fight Tito's Partisan with impunity. Unfortunely, they bought the deluxe package, which included killing all the Jews and Gypsies they could lay their hands on.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Usta%C5%A1e
I had a Croatian roommate in uni that cleared this up for me as well as a dalliance with the daughter of Bosnian emigres. They are a tall people, I'll give them that, but as typically bloody-minded as anyone else I've ever met from the Balkans. Similar to the older members of the Ulster conflict, or your average chav today (note: by "average", I mean "retarded".)
Thanks for the interesting anecdote and link, r.
Always up for discovery, is me.
My only Croatian-related story, in a nutshell, is when on the small, over-full fishing boat, in Indonesian waters, the constipation of all onboard, the misery, LOL, great memories, and these two Croat guys who jumped into the water to swim to shore before then anchor had been put down, and getting caught in a powerful current, and carried along the coast, way down and having to swim like the clappers to get back to the beach, and our old Indonesian capitan, motoring up the coast a bit, so the Croatians had to walk really far to catch us up, and I remember saying, 'Poor sods. Misery in their own country and then this happens.'
They were not happy but it was funny.
What is it about Indonesians and overloaded boats? Aren't they the "1,000 people on a 120 foot boat...that sinks" leaders?
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