tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58555351655071011332024-03-13T20:19:59.435+01:00128 mbAll The Way EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.comBlogger1154125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-17898962283186132402017-02-01T17:13:00.000+01:002017-02-01T17:13:06.346+01:00A New Show: Bored To Death <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Raleway, sans-serif; font-size: 20px;">Lives don't change. We simply become more comfortable with our core misery, which is a form of happiness.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Raleway, sans-serif; font-size: 20px;">Dr Worth</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Raleway, sans-serif; font-size: 20px;">Bored To Death </span></div>
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EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-49963642391066414682017-01-31T16:52:00.002+01:002017-01-31T16:52:29.837+01:00Parting Ways <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">You will be shocked kids, when you discover how easy it is in life to part ways with people forever. That's why, when you find someone you want to keep around, you do something about it.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Ted Mosby</span></div>
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EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-56970332074266279242017-01-31T14:23:00.002+01:002017-01-31T14:23:32.053+01:00I Finished It: AGAIN!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I have been going back ,for a while now, to watching old shows and reading old books. Something in me was too lazy -and maybe too old- to connect with new charcaters and new arguments. So a few weeks before going to Cuba - YES dear blog, I did go to the mother of all destinations: CUBA- I started rewatching How I Met Your Mother.<br />
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It was on Youtube and it was easy to click on the next episode, and I needed something familiar that would make me think about "matters of the heart'' given that I have abandonded those for a long while now.<br />
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By going back to this very blog I found out that the last time I watched the show was in 2014, therefore my memory of the details was so vague and it helped me enjoy it as if it was almost new.<br />
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Half an hour ago I finished it again. I really felt abandonded and lonely when the credits appeared on the screen. That is a great show that won't have any new seasons and that I won't be able to rewatch in at least 3 more years so I will miss it.<br />
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But the thing is, as I watched it again it held new meanings to me. When I first watched it to the end I was in a relationship that I thought will never end, with a guy that I thought I would never leave. Now, 3 years later I am on my own with a strong inner feeling of "not wanting any of that" and watching how Ted, after many years, a marriage and two kids went back to his twenties flame, Robin, it made me rethink my "Together Forever'' theory. This post is just a pretext to write that one question that I thought a lot about in the past few years: Can we get two good love stories in a lifetime? Can we get what Fermina Daza from Love in The Time of Cholera got? A good marriage and a flame to go back to at the end of her life?<br />
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I know how unromantic that sounds. Is does sound like a plan B or a second dish, but what shall I do? At this point of my life I am always weighing the options of being in a solid medium-level love story or being in a turbulent Extreme-level love story. Can we get both? Can we at least get one? Can we? </div>
EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-50671785979403714892017-01-30T14:25:00.000+01:002017-01-31T14:43:49.548+01:00A Year Of Driving <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Today I conclude a year of driving and owning a car.<br />
I have learnt a lot in this year, here are some things:<br />
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1- People are confused, they don't know where they are going until they are at the crossroad. Distance yourself from them until they freaking decide or you will pump into them and it will be your fault.<br />
2- People get confused when they see me singing and utterly enjoying myself in traffic jams. Confuse them even more and discover good music all the time.<br />
3- Fear is real and there is no way around it. If you are afraid because this is all new to you then be afraid, there is no shame in it, focus on calming yourself down rather than focusing how others perceive you. It gets better. It DID get better and driving DID become a second nature for me.<br />
4- People in our streets are constantly trying to commit suicide behind the wheel. They drive silly cars that would turn into a bundle of metal in a simple accident, yet they still think that they are in their own Formula1 show. Spot them and avoid them ALWAYS.<br />
5- Taxi drivers are ruined beyond repair. The streets brought out the worst in them. They can't be that mean, selfish, reckless and harmful by coincidence. I must find their clandestine annual meeting that they probably hold under the title of "How to make everyone uncomfortable on the road".<br />
6- Park whenever and wherever you are comfortable. If the parking spot seems too tight you don't have to park there. Arrive a minute late, park a hundred meters far but don't pressure yourself into an unsafe spot. If you scratch your car you will have to pay for it yourself so don't do that to yourself.<br />
7- If anyone says that men in Jordan respect women I will invite them to take a ride with me and they will see for themselves that men get extra cocky when they see a woman driving and they become extra assholes. I managed to put them in their place and forced them to respect me when I made them realise that I have no problem in pumping them if they dare to get in my lane.<br />
8- It is a skill like any other. Practice makes perfect.<br />
9- I just miss being able to read in my commutes.<br />
10- Music is one of the reasons why we take rides. Music is life and it had helped me back in my fearful driving era, and now it helps me to endure the traffic jams and poorly designed city.<br />
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That's that. Over and out. </div>
EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-90591036257781738522016-02-28T09:02:00.000+01:002016-02-28T09:02:24.911+01:00Grow Old Gracefully: Roz Doyle From Frasier <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15.456px;">Roz: I'm thirty-eight. And I FEEL thirty-eight. Now, I know we're all</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15.456px;">supposed to act like perpetual teenagers these days, but you know </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15.456px;">what? I like acting my age. I like being a mom. I like having a </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15.456px;">career. And I like balancing my checkbook! When did it become </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15.456px;">such a bad thing to be an adult?!</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15.456px;">Stu: Dr. Crane? Hello?</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15.456px;">Roz: Now, don't get me wrong, I had a great time when I was younger, I </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15.456px;">did! But after a while, that way of life just seems...empty. You </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15.456px;">have to go deeper, and commit to things that really matter to you. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15.456px;">Believe me, when you do that, you'll find out how amazing and rich </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15.456px;">life can be.</span></span><br />
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EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-82333546797512129802015-11-14T14:07:00.001+01:002015-11-14T14:13:47.195+01:00Dharma and Greg: Threatening My Friends Boyfriends/Fiances/Husbands <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">See this amazing line from Dharma and Greg's first episode, when Dharma presented Greg to her friend Jane: </span><br />
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<b>Jane: <i>(hugging Greg)</i> If you cause my friend any emotional pain whatsoever, I'll punish you in ways you can't even imagine.</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I Just wish I had this experience to openly threaten the men in my friends lives. I don't do it, because I don't turn hostile until after shit takes place. I don't attack people unless I know that I am going to burn each and every bridge and I am POSITIVE I will not need them in a near or a far future. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">And - here comes the important reason- Who am I to threaten people? It is so patronizing and it makes an assumption that my friends are not responsible enough to make a sentimental\life decision. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">But again, I look back at my friends men, the ones who stayed and the ones who left, they are equally idiotic misogynists who don't even realize that this IS what they are. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">A friend recently broke up with her fiance, and the first thing I did after getting her a "Birthday Girl" crown is blocking him on Facebook. She was like: Why did you block him? I did not block him, and I was like: You are free to deal with your feeling the way you like, but as for me it is hurtful on its own to remember that such a simple man (and the word simple is a huge insult if you look into it) took a year from your time and energy. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">When friends get married I feel that an honesty channel is blocked between them and I, because then honesty becomes a luxury that we can't afford. You are no longer able to make any "deal breaking' remarks, because that's just mean to the friend. It puts her in a situation where she can no longer share, because we can be as close as friends could be but no one wants to seem defeated infront of any other not even if this other is their dearest friend. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">And on a final note: I think I am going to revise Dharma and Greg now, and I might turn it into a course for "How to Enjoy Life" because Dharma is a real expert on the matter, and I feel that I need this kind of skills. I have been working a lot lately, I still feel like I can enjoy and celebrate almost anything (just like when I was a kid) but I constantly feel like I have less time than what I would like, and that was the main reason why I chose to be a freelancer: to be the master of my own time. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Yesterday I saw this video by Presidente Mujica and it just depressed me, when he said that we don't pay money in exchange of items, we pay the time that it took us to make this amount of money. </span></span></div>
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EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-45952731352452407312015-11-13T16:56:00.001+01:002015-11-13T16:56:15.776+01:00The Trouble With Prison Is Prison Itself <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">In the first week of the "<span style="background-color: white; color: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; white-space: nowrap;">Incarceration's Witnesses: American Prison</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; white-space: nowrap;"> Writing" online</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; white-space: nowrap;"> course I found this letter. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; white-space: nowrap;">It was written by</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; white-space: nowrap;"> Kenneth E.Hartman from inside the</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; white-space: nowrap;"> California prison system. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; white-space: nowrap;">It is written so simply yet so deeply. The writer was</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; white-space: nowrap;"> not only able to look at his own </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; white-space: nowrap;">experience, but he was </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; white-space: nowrap;">also able to perceive the suffering of others around him, </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; white-space: nowrap;">and I believe</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; white-space: nowrap;">that what makes this so extraordinary</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; white-space: nowrap;"> is that</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; white-space: nowrap;"> people are always able to realize the suffering </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="white-space: nowrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">of their equals, but they might not be as sensitive to </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="white-space: nowrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">the suffering of people who belong to </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="white-space: nowrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">different social, economical and educational backgrounds. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="white-space: nowrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="white-space: nowrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I have seen the inside of prisons in my work,</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="white-space: nowrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> and I was able to imagine everything he said</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="white-space: nowrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">in this article. Those are people who were given</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="white-space: nowrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> no chances, and they have become those </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="white-space: nowrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">unrescuable persons who in some moments</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="white-space: nowrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> made me wary and reluctant. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">You can find the full text </span><a href="http://www.counterpunch.org/2009/05/25/the-trouble-with-prison/" style="font-family: inherit;">here</a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This is a part of <a href="http://www.theotherdeathpenalty.org/">The Other Death Penalty Project</a> that I</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> will get back to in order to read more. </span></div>
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EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-55007785453055416052015-11-05T14:30:00.001+01:002015-11-05T14:36:05.826+01:00The Best Movie Scene Ever: Nearer My God To Thee <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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As it had rained heavily today, and as the city drowned under heaps of brown angry rain, I remembered this scene from the Titanic. It is the best music that goes by with the biggest sense of vanity: When the violinists starts playing because they are convinced they are going to drown anyway.<br />
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I saw lately in the internet a meme that goes like this: I am worried that my homeland is a sinking ship just like the Titanic, and meanwhile people are running to jump of it I am still standing there like those violinists.<br />
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This is the main idea on my mind: ALL the time. </div>
EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-6440575818688046552015-11-03T23:17:00.001+01:002015-11-03T23:17:44.661+01:00Cities that we don't know <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://instagram.com/p/9opOyOh0jQ/" style="color: black; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">Croatia Dubrovnik | photo by @ilhan1077 check out beautiful gallery @ilhan1077 🍰💐</a></div>
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A photo posted by Travelin'man Turkey (@onderkoca) on <time datetime="2015-11-03T19:51:58+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Nov 3, 2015 at 11:51am PST</time></div>
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I just found this picture on Instagram. I think I am designed in a way to assume that every breathtaking scene should be from Granada or at least any other place in Spain. But No, this is from Dubrovnik Croatia. Do I know anything about this place? No!<br />
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Today I was looking for something in my suitcases, and they made me think: I travel way less than I am supposed to. And every time I discover an interesting place the list goes longer longer and it gives me the feeling that the world is so infinite that I will never run out of aspirations and amusement. <br />
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EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-84051276638894036982015-11-02T10:54:00.000+01:002015-11-02T10:54:10.922+01:00Seinfeld: Life Before Mobiles <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizdRq9KZbDq5lLwPXfYUfOSSivJ8_KaI3E2Q1607FXUWR70nibU1Pqe7uYgi-qFihFZOvhGWTJf1_XEWwp-R5yaT9cLqMC6XfCK_UuJL9bb1DX5SW1xL-7Y5E42Ubudsl0i1Qyp5eoW6yp/s1600/Jerry+on+the+phone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizdRq9KZbDq5lLwPXfYUfOSSivJ8_KaI3E2Q1607FXUWR70nibU1Pqe7uYgi-qFihFZOvhGWTJf1_XEWwp-R5yaT9cLqMC6XfCK_UuJL9bb1DX5SW1xL-7Y5E42Ubudsl0i1Qyp5eoW6yp/s1600/Jerry+on+the+phone.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white;">I am revising Seinfeld again (I think I am too busy to try a new show and spend time "getting used" to it) and I was thinking about the numerous episodes where the argument would have been totally useless if there were a mobile phones with the characters. Today he said this at the beginning of the episode and it got me thinking, what phones have turned us into?! we can not sit alone. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.4px; line-height: 21.56px;">~'I would say the concept behind the car phone, and the phone machine, the speaker phone, the airline phone, the portable phone, the pay phone, the cordless phone, the multi-line phone, the phone pager, the call waiting, call forwarding, call conferencing, speed dialing, direct dialing, and the re-dialing, is that we all have absolutely nothing to say, and we've got to talk to someone about it right now. It cannot wait another second! I mean, come on, you're at home and you're on the phone, you're in the car making calls, you get to work 'any messages for me?', you gotta give people a chance to miss you a little!'~</span></div>
EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-29085650671190668572015-09-05T21:18:00.000+01:002015-09-11T21:19:00.171+01:00Banning Aylan Kurdi's Pictures <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjexgT_nnxSJs6zFz_Fv4but6H-GT3OFbKyR-dTrSlcE4m0tkXCLCao0ouZULht_KMfCIqCVFj_49eDtgkNWswGTo2ql7gfwOBe9sQO8uKnb0a5cOTnmzcjD4Tp_WEPX5TO9z_iNSBSK0Sx/s1600/Aylan+Kurdi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjexgT_nnxSJs6zFz_Fv4but6H-GT3OFbKyR-dTrSlcE4m0tkXCLCao0ouZULht_KMfCIqCVFj_49eDtgkNWswGTo2ql7gfwOBe9sQO8uKnb0a5cOTnmzcjD4Tp_WEPX5TO9z_iNSBSK0Sx/s320/Aylan+Kurdi.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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When I first saw the video of the Turkish coastguard finding Aylan's body, something drew my attention: He took pictures of him first.<br />
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I cringed. I thought: There is a dead toddler in front of you and you are taking pictures of him?<br />
But then I thought, Yes! This is exactly what the guard should do. He should keep a record, he should document that this atrocity has occurred.<br />
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We don't honor the memory of the dead if we conceal their death. If he had not taken those pictures, or if he was not filmed by a different camera as he held the small body and went up the beach, it would have been one more story then. A story of those horrifying stories that are so repeated in times of conflict that they stop making any impact on anyone.<br />
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Back when I was in Media Institute we had lengthy discussions about publishing "Graphic Content".<br />
I remember an argument of one of my Palestinian colleagues who said that the repeated publishing of such images causes "Compassion Fatigue" and by that we mean that people gradually lose compassion as they are repeatedly exposed to this kind of content.<br />
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The picture of the Vietnamese girl who was running naked after being bombarded with Napalm is always used as the "good example" of graphic content, because the audience could have deeper sympathy towards her given that she is still alive and there is something that could be done to save her, while in the pictures of dead people the audience only feels impotent because there is nothing that could be done to the "subject'' in the picture.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmlwXzSk6kAXoKbD-0PHAjIqyHZ6ObBH7zawTyA0sICRafg0Dt3dEA_uU0rzH4yDCiieWqE8TKAgh865aVGTXJJXVTCJZa_tb1mDY4D3OqzD7Rzbx5EogiQlop1NEy3J8W42GsD8mvqxvm/s1600/Vietnamese+girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmlwXzSk6kAXoKbD-0PHAjIqyHZ6ObBH7zawTyA0sICRafg0Dt3dEA_uU0rzH4yDCiieWqE8TKAgh865aVGTXJJXVTCJZa_tb1mDY4D3OqzD7Rzbx5EogiQlop1NEy3J8W42GsD8mvqxvm/s320/Vietnamese+girl.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Back then, I embraced this argument and did not go back to posting bloody pictures (One exception: The four Palestinian boys who were killed in an airstrike as they played football on the the beach of Gaza. That was outrageous, I could not ignore it). And now this: the picture of a dead toddler, dead and with his face in the sand and his shoes towards the camera.<br />
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This is a graphic picture, Yes, but for a totally different reason. No torn clothes, no faces covered with debris dirt and no blood, he is calmly dead. So peaceful.<br />
This picture throws all of its pain on the viewers given that the subject, the dead toddler, is done suffering, he is just floating like feather, washed ashore for his body to be concealed under the ground once and for all.<br />
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I tried to check if the picture was officially banned on Facebook but I found no evidence, yet I have been seeing it blurred or pixelated in different news websites.<br />
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More on pictures that changed the world <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3222657/Aylan-s-lifeless-body-powerful-photographs-changed-course-history.html">here</a>.<br />
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EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-21321326993731421022015-09-02T16:48:00.002+01:002015-09-02T16:48:47.903+01:00New Profile Picture: Splendidly Disfigured <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9LE-8FH0BRxeToB2_6kPmqU2wooT3LaP4V_Xu6UgSGAcCNCOmRNeeoGk-zOMqN12OSRHMg1h5dNsOsQJ5LuaHBgBO6b7_N0jpD9hZ1t0itna0QrNY3EIvxCAlF8QfOQ6lh5Fm7IYHQh8G/s1600/11988374_10207671168238431_5907918150678276243_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9LE-8FH0BRxeToB2_6kPmqU2wooT3LaP4V_Xu6UgSGAcCNCOmRNeeoGk-zOMqN12OSRHMg1h5dNsOsQJ5LuaHBgBO6b7_N0jpD9hZ1t0itna0QrNY3EIvxCAlF8QfOQ6lh5Fm7IYHQh8G/s320/11988374_10207671168238431_5907918150678276243_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is an old picture that I stumbled upon today. I sit it as a profile picture. It was bigger but I had to crop it for Facebook dimensions' restrictions, and when it became square it kind of emphasized my open mouth and my yellowish teeth.<br />
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I stared at it for a moment, feeling all self conscious, but then something in my head told me: This is how smiles are! They are not supposed to be perfect, and the harder you are laughing the more "disfigured" your face will look.<br />
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So I kept it and I am so happy with it. Yet, somewhere, down in my heart it makes me sad, it is not that I grew old, but I am no longer a college kid surrounded with friends effortlessly. I am still surrounded with friends 4 years later, but I feel the "effort" the "phone calls" the "waiting" and the "cancellations".<br />
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I guess I will give myself a 10 minutes wallowing period, so let's start. </div>
EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-4319413109583331132015-08-30T12:01:00.000+01:002015-08-30T12:13:08.164+01:00A Song About a Lady Reading!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I was in my office trying to do anything useful, when my neighbor Ibrahim came in and he said he wanted to show me something. He gave me the name of the song (posted below) and for a moment I was like: Perfect! One more "modern" track with endless 4 minutes (There is nothing that I can do about this! I have a grandma's musical taste, and I get drowsy when I listen to new stuff)<br />
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But when the song started it drew my attention (BIG achievement).<br />
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<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/151495493&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe><br />
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It describes a man observing a woman reading a book in a coffee house. He was not observing how "she looked" as she read but rather described what he thought "she felt" as she read, and that -ladies and gentlemen- is a first!<br />
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Lately I have been irritated by the lame glorification of "intellectual women''. Too many Facebook posts of women who are "suffering" because they have a lot of books that they have not read yet (time management issues if you ask me) and posts about women who just can't stop themselves from "buying more books" although they should not (again, if you ask me: women taking their shopping disorders from shoes to books. Self-control issues).<br />
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But the most appalling of all are the posts with pictures or paintings of girls with glasses who are "engrossed'' (Engrossed?! Is that even a word? sounds like the feeling you get when you do something Gross) in reading a book, with a caption of some horny guy glorifying girls who read, and the same girls (who think that their pathetic reading routine is actually READING) showering him with likes and comments without realizing at all that "the girl with glasses who is engrossed in reading" is a common porn movie plot (Hahah! Did I just say plot? there's no plot, the girl sees the man virility and she throws the book away, this is as complicated as the plot gets).<br />
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And you know? I don't want to go all "perfect" on anyone, if a guy and a girl want to play the game of attraction based on his "interest in her intellectualism" so be it, who am I to judge. But what is more disgusting (and yes, the term is "disgust'') when girls present themselves as intellectuals to land boyfriends, and therefore potential husbands.<br />
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Remember when girls used to wear extra make up and extra high heels to draw a man's attention? Well, those girls were at least honest with themselves, they knew what they wanted and they went out there and got it. But what is the deal with girls now who want to have their "5 minutes of leading the public opinion" before landing a guy and dwelling in his laundry room for the rest of their lives?<br />
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Why does this annoy me? It is because reading is a phase, and their next phase is: "Writing" and that is just offending to everyone who is still sane. It's a public service to nip their intellectual longings in the bud.<br />
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God I got carried away ... </div>
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Back to the song: We need this song, and many other similar songs, where a woman is observed while she is actually reading, and not meanwhile she's orchestrating the scene of her reading longing that some man might observe her, invite her for something or even mention her in a novel or a poem. </div>
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Observe this painting. </div>
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I accidentally found it on the jungle of the internet, read more about it <a href="http://automathopper.blogspot.com/">here</a>. </div>
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The article mentioned an interesting term "Urban alienation". </div>
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I don't know, maybe it is just me, but this is what reading is supposed to do to a person. Reading alienates you, it does not put you in the spot light. If it does, the lights will flash your eyes and you will find yourself participating in the constant parade of "pseudo-intellectuals'' that is roaming the worlds corners for a while now. </div>
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Over and Out </div>
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EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-31212862207541577382015-07-16T14:31:00.000+01:002015-07-16T14:31:20.990+01:00ِA Turkish Song: Allah Allah <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Yesterday I made a new friend in a party. An interesting girl from Turkey. We stood there making little talk about Turkey and it all came back to me, I remembered my time in Turkey in 2013 and my Turkish classes in the first few months of 2014.<br />
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I know I have had a lot of linguistic flings and affairs, but the love I have for every language is true, and I know for a fact that I will find a moment in my life in which I'll go back to each and every language of them until I excel in all of them. They are like my kids and I love them all.<br />
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So here,,,<br />
Enjoy the translation of Allah Allah sarki that I accidentally found on Google. May God bless those generous anonymous translators who give us those jewels. <br />
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Allah Allah</div>
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Ne güzel yaratmışsın çiftedir beni<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Görünce aşık oldum eyledi deli. (x2)</div>
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Gülünce gözlerini, saçının her telini,<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Tutunca ellerini, ölesim gelir, ölesim gelir<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Ölesim gelir, ölesim gelir.<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Ölesim gelir, ölesim gelir.</div>
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Allah Allah Allah Allah bu nasıl sevmek.<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Allah Allah Allah Allah bu nasıl gülmek.<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Allah Allah Allah Allah bu nasıl sevmek.<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Allah Allah Allah Allah bu nasıl gülmek.<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Bu nasıl sevmek bu nasıl gülmek.<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />İnsan değil bu sanki bir melek.</div>
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Gözlerine bakınca deryayı gördüm.<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Sevmeyi, sevilmeyi onunla bildim. (x2)</div>
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Gülünce gözlerini, saçının her telini,<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Tutunca ellerini, ölesim gelir, ölesim gelir<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Ölesim gelir, ölesim gelir.<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Ölesim gelir, ölesim gelir.</div>
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Allah Allah Allah Allah bu nasıl sevmek.<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Allah Allah Allah Allah bu nasıl gülmek.<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Allah Allah Allah Allah bu nasıl sevmek.<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Allah Allah Allah Allah bu nasıl gülmek.<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Bu nasıl sevmek bu nasıl gülmek.<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />İnsan değil bu sanki bir melek.</div>
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الله الله</div>
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كم هو جميل خلقك لتوأم روحي<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />عندما رأيته جعلني مجنونا به واصبحت عاشقا</div>
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عندما يضحك والمس عينيه وكل خصلة من شعره الحريري<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />وعندما امسك يديه أحتضر<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />احتَضر , احتَضر<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />احتَضر , احْتَضر</div>
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الله الله الله الله كيف يكون هذا الحب<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />الله الله الله الله كيف تكون هذه الابتسامة<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />الله الله الله الله كيف يكون هذا الحب<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />الله الله الله الله كيف تكون هذه الابتسامة<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />كيف يكون هذا الحب وكيف تكون هذه الابتسامة<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />هذا ليس انسان كأنه ملاك</div>
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عندما نظرت الى عينيه رأيت فيها البحار<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />تعلمت معه أن اَحِب واٌحَب</div>
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عندما يضحك والمس عينيه وكل خصلة من شعره الحريري<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />وامسك يديه ااموت<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />اصبح ميت اصبح ميت<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />اصبح ميت اصبح ميت</div>
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الله الله الله الله كيف يكون هذا الحب<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />الله الله الله الله كيف تكون هذه الابتسامة<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />الله الله الله الله كيف يكون هذا الحب<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />الله الله الله الله كيف تكون هذه الابتسامة<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />كيف يكون هذا الحب وكيف تكون هذه الابتسامة<br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />هذا ليس انسان , كأنه ملاك</div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Taken from</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> </span><a href="http://lyricstranslate.com/en/allah-allah-%D8%A7%D9%84%D9%84%D9%87-%D8%A7%D9%84%D9%84%D9%87.html-0#ixzz3g33wl4d9" style="color: #003399; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">http://lyricstranslate.com/en/allah-allah-%D8%A7%D9%84%D9%84%D9%87-%D8%A7%D9%84%D9%84%D9%87.html-0#ixzz3g33wl4d9</a> </div>
EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-13735529570229367342015-07-11T09:54:00.002+01:002015-07-11T09:54:49.663+01:00Omar and Faten: Together At The End<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-GHzZrTLH6kNXTaZPUc1FLs4ACeB2RrD3M88SYdSA7BXMy9-NBGnvhNBSy2rvB2TvTOLeueZfJWxF0vY5hrJWAOSxsAq3jtSZ5nSwUgzaiO5gk39zFa6rwdG8RyRhCuV60IqrgbDDA1tG/s1600/%25D9%2581%25D8%25A7%25D8%25AA%25D9%2586-%25D8%25AD%25D9%2585%25D8%25A7%25D9%2585%25D8%25A9-%25D9%2588%25D8%25B9%25D9%2585%25D8%25B1-%25D8%25A7%25D9%2584%25D8%25B4%25D8%25B1%25D9%258A%25D9%2581-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-GHzZrTLH6kNXTaZPUc1FLs4ACeB2RrD3M88SYdSA7BXMy9-NBGnvhNBSy2rvB2TvTOLeueZfJWxF0vY5hrJWAOSxsAq3jtSZ5nSwUgzaiO5gk39zFa6rwdG8RyRhCuV60IqrgbDDA1tG/s320/%25D9%2581%25D8%25A7%25D8%25AA%25D9%2586-%25D8%25AD%25D9%2585%25D8%25A7%25D9%2585%25D8%25A9-%25D9%2588%25D8%25B9%25D9%2585%25D8%25B1-%25D8%25A7%25D9%2584%25D8%25B4%25D8%25B1%25D9%258A%25D9%2581-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
May Both Rest In Peace. </div>
EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-37360787742122446372015-07-06T09:59:00.002+01:002015-07-06T10:00:53.358+01:00A Poem I Accidentally Translated: كلمات سبارتكوس الأخيرة<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Yesterday, as I was following the news of the Greek referendum, I remembered this old poem of Amal Dunqul, and as I wanted my Spanish friends to read it I translated it on my phone and posted it on Facebook. Amazing words of wisdom, written sometime in the past and they fit the present like a glove:<br />
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المجد للشيطان .. معبود الرياح</div>
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من قال " لا " في وجه من قالوا " نعم "</div>
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من علّم الإنسان تمزيق العدم</div>
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من قال " لا " .. فلم يمت ,</div>
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وظلّ روحا أبديّة الألم !</div>
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أمل دنقل</div>
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<span style="line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Alabado sea Satanás </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">El adorado por los vientos</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">El que dijo "No" en la cara de quienes dijeron "Sí"</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Quien enseñó al hombre a romper la nada</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Quien dijo "No" y no se murió</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Y permaneció como alma dolida eternamente</span></div>
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Amal Dunqul - Poeta egipcio</div>
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To read the rest of the poem in Arabic please <a href="http://www.adab.com/modules.php?name=Sh3er&doWhat=shqas&qid=63770">Click Here</a>.</div>
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EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-14280278918489084332015-06-30T11:33:00.001+01:002015-06-30T11:33:41.097+01:00Fields of Gravity<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">The best advice I ever got about love was from my grandmother, right before I got married. She said, "Marriage goes through cyclical phases, it's almost like the movements of planets. Sometimes you're so close, the two of you, your orbits are in synch, and sometimes you move so far away from each other, you feel you'll never reconnect, never reenter each other's orbits, you're too far apart. The trick to marriage is having faith in the reconnection, waiting for the inevitable</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; display: inline; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"> closeness again." This was in 1994. She died a couple of years later. My marriage lasted 12 years. I never forgot this advice; we moved far away from each other many times, and I waited it out, and sure enough, we came back into synch again. And then at the end, we moved too far apart to ever reenter each other's orbits, out of each other's fields of gravity, and that's when I knew it was over. —Melissa Chapman</span><br />
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EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-88098887389421923542015-06-22T19:16:00.001+01:002015-06-22T19:16:21.306+01:00Bedtime Story: Something I Copied from Facebook <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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bedtime story:</div>
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“Stop. You can’t love me because you’re lonely, or because I am the only one who doesn’t piss you off. I want to piss you off, I want to get on y<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">our fucking nerves. I don’t want the responsibility of always being your rock. I will try, but I’m a mess, too. I lie, I sleep too much and I don’t like children under the age of 6, really. I don’t even know if I want kids because I’m selfish, and mothers can’t be selfish once they decide to carry another life.</span></div>
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I’m always looking for the rain to come so I trip over my own feet. I know exactly what the air smells like before a storm.<br />Before you fall in love with me, I want you to know that I cry a lot because it feels good, and I masturbate at least 4 times a week, and you might fall out of love with me before either of us are ready for it.I have no experience with this. I’m trying to be brave and smart but its almost impossible to be both at the same time.<br />You can’t love me like a fire escape. Sometimes I will be the match, or the smoke under the door. I don’t know what I’m doing, all I know is that we all catch fire sometimes, before we even get warm.<br />Before you fall in love with me, I want you to know that there’s a 50% chance that this won’t work, that one of us will wind up hating the other. I will try to keep your head above water, but sometimes I’ll need help, too.<br />I can’t be your savior, and I don’t expect you to be mine. Just watch me unfold and I’ll watch you unfold, too. We’ll get drunk and tell each other everything. I know that’s cheating but maybe it’ll be alright. Maybe we won’t wake up embarrassed.</div>
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I am going to fall in love with you, too, feet first. Maybe we’ll slow dance off a building together, maybe we’ll have forgotten each other’s names by this time next year. I don’t care, the sky is gray with or without you, so I’m not going to look up anymore, I’m going to look ahead .”<br />—Before You Fall in Love with Me, Caitlyn S.</div>
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good night<br />Watercolor by Brendan Shea</div>
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EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-2330987160393406752015-06-20T07:35:00.000+01:002015-06-20T07:35:09.798+01:00Dear Blog, Remember me? <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
Dear Blog,<br />
<br />
Remember me? It's me Evaluna.<br />
<br />
I shall confess that I was sucked into the shit whole known as Facebook. And yesterday I had a Facebook-comment-section-conversation with an old and dear friend-blogger, and we both agreed that we are letting our ideas drown in that drain, we don't get to document them, reread them, look at them and don't get me started on "having them read by actual audience".<br />
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I know that my blog isn't a rock concert, it had always had an intimate number of followers, but I am now convinced more than ever, that being read by total strangers who read thoroughly is better than being read by the so-called Facebook-friends who see only what they want to see and comment what they had in mind even before reading my post.<br />
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People are entitled to their crappy opinions of course, but I am just bored, drained and exhausted.<br />
Yesterday I had to block my own mother :\ and it just struck me. I realized that maybe maybe, I am one of those who can't share their opinions "out there" with their identity totally revealed.<br />
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Blocking her was no smooth process, she got so furious and she yelled and cursed, but then, when I found myself on Facebook without her I found myself listing my name in a signed petition against the same issue that she was so offensive about (that led to me blocking her afterwards) I felt like a free animal in the meadows!<br />
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It's just stunning ... I love her and everything but I believe I got to that phase in my life where I feel like I'm bearing my mother on my shoulders all the time, and life just does not work that way. Her beliefs are fragile and I am young and strong, I can't keep tuning down my energy to pamper her set of values (that I don't share ,,, let's just put it that way!)<br />
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Offft, I was not supposed to go on an on about this, but this is what I felt like saying when I saw the broad Blogger window.<br />
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I really missed it here, and I feel bad for every thought that I didn't document here.<br />
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So for now, I am in my office, I got here 8 am, and I absorbed the silence, given that silence is one of the most underrated resources there is in the world. Now I am going to go stuff my head in my notebook and prepare my Hebrew class. I will come back with more Hebrew details in a post that I shall write soon. </div>
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Over and Out</div>
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EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-38914420624439272072015-03-22T15:40:00.000+01:002015-03-22T15:40:12.834+01:00Visas: Modern Form of Institutional Humilliation <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I have been going in circles for a month and a half now, just because I feel nostalgic to the city of my dreams, where I am planning to spend 15 days!!<br />
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For 15 days of relaxation a human being has to go through a month or so of stress. Well maybe stress is never my case, but it is a prolonged procedure of waiting and hoping. It's just like making a wish on a falling star!<br />
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I was told that today was the day in which I'll be informed if I was granted the visa (look at the verb!! Grant! It's humiliating on its very own! As If I am being granted a Noble prize) I checked the online page and this is what I got. I squeezed my guts and made a call and an Indian guy who kept saying "Mam" throughout the call told me that I might still have to wait for an extra week or two!<br />
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If it were not for Spain I would have dropped it, but for Spain I am capable of almost anything.<br />
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EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-391214984343497632014-08-16T12:40:00.000+01:002014-10-05T19:13:07.018+01:00Follow Me: She Said Yes! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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During this season of constant and endless weddings and engagement parties, the news of the "Follow Me" couple getting engaged has actually filled my heart with deep joy. </div>
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I am personally depressed by how people around me deal with marriage as if it was the simplest of all matters. They jump into it with the least suspicions, with the least questions and with zero experience of one another. </div>
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When I see such examples, It just restores my faith in marriage, because in those cases marriage is one station in a long path of mutual experiences and memories, it is not the "beginning" of the path, it is not the point where a wife and a husband "get to know each other".</div>
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It is crazy, people are simply out of their minds, because if you were to establish a partnership with someone where a huge amount of money is in question, you will be investigating this partner for a while, just to make sure in which hands are you leaving your money, so why do people spend less time and effort investigating their "LIFE freaking partner". </div>
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And here I am not speaking about love. I am not speaking about the simple thought of "if you are married to someone, then you lost all chances of ever falling in love without being a cheater" .... Ahhhh ... anyways, have a look at those beautiful memories they already shared before putting a tag on things </div>
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EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-62767384571481279662014-07-26T12:47:00.003+01:002014-07-26T14:31:54.414+01:00Dear Blog: Once Again <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Dear Blog,<br />
<br />
It has been a long time since I last posted anything here. I was busy but not to the extent that I could not write a line, I believe it was more of an energy-loss loop that started and restarted each and everyday.<br />
<br />
Much has happened lately, it may not be tangible in a physical sense, but a lot has changed and happened and I am in a happy place in my life, and it would have been perfect if I was somewhere near being an economist or a person who can actually have a reasonable figure in their ban account if compared to their income.<br />
<br />
I might write about this in a separate post, or might just hide it as it has been a source of personal shame for quite a long time now, but all in all, confessing a problem is the first step towards solving it (or so I say to feel less burdened).<br />
<br />
In those past months I got myself an office in one of the best buildings of old Amman, and I finally got my little corner of the world where I sit in total and deep solitude to read, write and translate, with the thin possibility of being only interrupted by some of Jordan's best journalists who work for 7iber.com (7iber.net now after they have been blocked for the second time, given the brilliant publications law we enjoy in our beloved developed country).<br />
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I found an amazing 6-books-novel (3600 pages) that brought back my faith in reading, after I have been reading books that I don't like nor enjoy just for the sake of sticking to one of my very few good habits, and I am climbing walls in order to be the one who translates the whole thing into Arabic (fingers crossed, because things are not promising at all in this anti-intellectual environment).<br />
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I have not been interpreting any conferences lately because there is not any during Ramadan, and I have not missed any part of it except for the momentous sense of glory when translated words stream from my mouth as if they were my very own discourse, besides that I have actually enjoyed the solitude in the office and translating files all alone.<br />
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Nafnf and I are evolving, right in the moment when I thought that there was not to learn, life stunned me with a pile of incidents that made me realize how little I know about being a team-player, and we are both getting there, and our unity -most of the time- is the thing that heals the vanity of all other things.<br />
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There are wars and massacres around us, as it had always been, but now, for the very first time it effected me, in the sense that I feel actual guilt for the mere idea of not being being under debris...It is becoming unbearable, and the obliviousness of the rest of the world is effecting my feeling towards my career.<br />
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I am a Translator, it is my job to deliver messages between two languages, and in such times of conflict I feel obliged to translate articles, videos, tweets and photo captions for the "entire world" to know the truth of what is actually happening in say, Gaza, Syria or Iraq.<br />
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Yet, I started losing the motivation, and feeling that it all goes in vain, the world does not care, not about my translations but about the message they convey,,, we got used to death and injustice, and the other has lost interest.<br />
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It is not like I want to reach a final verdict about what the other feels or wants, but it is that things have reached a point where knowledge is worthless, because wither you know that a town is being slaughtered in Syria, or you don't, they are still being slaughtered anyway.<br />
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I will go read something now, but I promise you dear blog, that I will come around more often and document all phases of my life, the life of others and the bit that I can witness from the world. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqbLIfm6ifyHokjK-SWP3Qe5HHOTJlBwSc4OZebvECIoTQd0GlbmU-Sbks5kwMLs_Wsg9bdxi2_UU_29ph1GhHSDiGCy0h-XSs916cnjG8RH6df4b15ZXlYwL9XqND_ZTK0st1_lRUE18s/s1600/IMG_32153331863602.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqbLIfm6ifyHokjK-SWP3Qe5HHOTJlBwSc4OZebvECIoTQd0GlbmU-Sbks5kwMLs_Wsg9bdxi2_UU_29ph1GhHSDiGCy0h-XSs916cnjG8RH6df4b15ZXlYwL9XqND_ZTK0st1_lRUE18s/s640/IMG_32153331863602.jpeg"> </a> </div>EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-47533309886288581332014-06-15T07:43:00.000+01:002015-06-20T07:43:24.114+01:00I Own The World <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Can I ask for more? A room of my own - that is not attached to my family's house- a good book - a terribly good book- my notebook, my fountain pen, my music and the best sense of cultivated solitude. </div>
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EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-51315023575338265322014-04-18T14:47:00.000+01:002014-04-18T14:50:50.861+01:00Thus Spoke Jerry Seinfeld ... Marriage <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRWQ35E-0TdN0VJjhYCEZRigXKHqCJer08h5vYAbVwhMhdp-iJhILDuIsujMHjK1kw2Jxvqslpsl7jsEUfKPyfrGb8zZnmv_mdOtm6AQsxxDJ6JBAHx579NKZheFrR3ZqQko4Lue2GSzS5/s1600/seinfeld_jerry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRWQ35E-0TdN0VJjhYCEZRigXKHqCJer08h5vYAbVwhMhdp-iJhILDuIsujMHjK1kw2Jxvqslpsl7jsEUfKPyfrGb8zZnmv_mdOtm6AQsxxDJ6JBAHx579NKZheFrR3ZqQko4Lue2GSzS5/s1600/seinfeld_jerry.jpg" height="200" width="184" /></a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Tahoma, Arial, sans-serif;"> To me the thing about marriage is, I can't believe how often it happens. I mean I like the idea of it, but I can't believe that many people are meetin' people that they want to see every single day, everyday, everyday, everyday, everyday. That should like happen three or four times... you know in the whole century. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Tahoma, Arial, sans-serif;">P.s: I posted this from home, while my entire extended family went out to celebrate someone's engagement. Seriously, why do I have to leave my dear room, dear books, dear blog and dear pajamas to go celebrate that someone I barely know is signing a lunatic contract for the the rest of their life? Why! </span></div>
EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5855535165507101133.post-81513015970053838972014-04-05T09:46:00.001+01:002014-04-05T09:50:30.618+01:00Marshall And Lilly: One Healthy Couple <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj_AeGeQPBEIdYmiDBeOoEhrPTadpJt7nyDi0D1hQxOy5pO1-TaOMV9Y__sNF1r21ZvQzyQfOEBd8d5XTEeRWBl8UAW8KMIIt3ix9zJ5l1apFMYhiruris0ZRnebwOxrTExbudbVI1eogq/s1600/Marshall+and+Lilly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj_AeGeQPBEIdYmiDBeOoEhrPTadpJt7nyDi0D1hQxOy5pO1-TaOMV9Y__sNF1r21ZvQzyQfOEBd8d5XTEeRWBl8UAW8KMIIt3ix9zJ5l1apFMYhiruris0ZRnebwOxrTExbudbVI1eogq/s1600/Marshall+and+Lilly.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
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I was just watching <a href="http://www.novamov.com/video/b321cf562d244">Sunrise</a>, one of the last episodes of the final season of How I Met Your Mother<br />
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(I should not go on an on about how sad it is for such a good show to end, this post is about something else).<br />
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There is this conversation between Marshall, Lilly's ghost, 2005 Lilly's Ghost and his Father's Ghost.<br />
When the father tells him that you don't get to hurt her back because she once hurt you, this is not how it works in a marriage.<br />
<br />
Those words stopped me.<br />
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I'd rather (at least at this point) not go through personal details, but ever since I stopped being a "loner" I found out that I lack a dozen of skills that makes a "shared" life possible.<br />
<br />
I can't exactly describe my sentimental disabilities, but when you are in love (and more importantly in a relationship) you simply experience an expansion in your limits as a person (as a mere individual), suddenly there is someone else "within" your existence and in spite of how nice, romantic bla bla bla that is, but it is a responsibility if a very tricky kind, because you can no longer act like an individual (think alone, decide alone, be a bitch, be nice and supportive) and yet the "team work" is constant work!<br />
<br />
It is a huge effort. NafNaf and I had a conversation once about this and I told him that he has to put an effort in the "relation work" and he said "I thought a relation is the place where you get to relax after you are exhausted from all the other work".<br />
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When I thought about what he said I realized one thing: We are soooo Young!<br />
Really, it was not easy for me either to use a term like "work on a relation", that is not romantic, I have always thought it is a God-given thing, that it just happens, but with the experience I came to realize that a love relationship is like a sophisticated mansion, the bigger and the nicer it is, the more maintenance it requires.<br />
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Going back to Marshall and Lilly, they are one of the reasons why I am gonna miss How I Met Your Mother, simply because you don't get to see such healthy examples neither in real life nor in TV.<br />
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If those two have taught me a listen, it would be: Never Keep Score. :)<br />
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EvaLunahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06795933686793639999noreply@blogger.com1