of long-standing relationships and banana republics, and simple mist and trees

i wanted to write a long and a sad post about my bank: how i had it for 24 years, and how some years ago the control packet of the shares was bought by another bank, which was secretly owned by some bigwig in russia, and how Byzantine machinations ruined that bank first, and then my bank… and how i dislike changing banks, and how my country again proved to be just a banana republic minus the bananas (unfortunately)… but then i thought of it, and decided i will not. it will bring nobody any good, least of all myself.

no, i will write of trees. and the smell of autumn, and the rust-coloured grasses bending close to the ground in the merciless wind.

the trees are bare. they fling their branchy arms, and twiggy fingers into the gusts of wind, dancing through the air, indicating the closeness of darkness that is to come.

mist (or what happens to heizenberg’s principle of uncertainty)

the mist erases the world outside my window.

and i can either know where the gulls are,

or how fast they move.

but not both.

what a great feeling for a morning of headache and sneeze, and going to work, and a myriad of other things that cannot wait.

the nuclear personal spaces

well, here it is, a little drawing of me as a nuclear reactor. i’ve been thinking of this for some time, both on-line and offline, and this is the result. yes, i think of my self (and quite a lot of relationships) in terms of 3D space, rooms, cubes, access corridors and so on. unfortunately my digital drawing skills are a little old-fashioned, and so the diagram is only a diagram – 2D and incomplete. use your imagination to cover the flaws.

the swans

have left. this was on the news.

i woke up grey today, like the earth and the sky, and the fallen leaves in the mist.

and i thought, those swan-less days before the first snow touches down will be as grey as i will think them.

i have to put up the bird feeder soon.

i have to think colour.

before the snow covers the world, and all is
monochrome.

funerals one misses

and then my father said (to the world at large) – she did not go to the funeral of my best man (by she meaning me).

and then i thought, why should i.

the people on my father’s side of the family have spent minimum 30 years trying to alienate me from the relatives on my mother’s side.

the people on my mother’s side of the family have spent about as much time in incessant effort to alienate me from the father’s relatives.

why are they surprised to have succeeded? i wonder.

the taboo words

and so i said – i will die one day, that’s a fact.

and my colleagues at work went berserk with ‘shush, don’t say so’ and ‘you do not mean it’, and ‘how can you say so, we must think of living forever’.

and i thought – why should i succumb to the cult of death, manifested in worship of living forever (and i do not mean life eternal)?

as time has passed by since the incident, i’ve been thinking of this time and again. and have considered a few things that make the cult of death so powerful. it might be illustrated thus:

of these five, only the fear of the unknown is something i understand and can accept – as shakespeare wrote in his ‘hamlet’

autumn meetings

a little bit of jay-walking, and some trees. and a nice caterpillar.

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