I haven’t seen this film in over 15 years. My opinions shall follow.

I’d like to make some sort of intelligent commentary on this film, but I seem unable to be coherent at the moment. So how is that for meta-tagging the entry? The feeling, from the beginning, is fucking intense. What a great start! What do you think, my elegant reader? I stopped the film just now. I was going to register something — mayhap here, mayhap in yon journal, but it has escaped me. Shit.

Definately, this film burns like Acy’s blowtorch to the leg of my cardtable back in 1991. You can feel the tension from the start. I am just to the point now where Jasper takes Faron to his place. They are about to smoke weed and listen to Radiohead. I remember so much. Fuck, that is a good idea. Oouh baby.

Another interesting point is that the version of ‘Goodbye Ruby Tuesday’ is sung by Franco Battiato. What the fuck kind of coincidence is that, my fine, feathered friend?

I wonder when it is time to feel old. I think my parents insist that it should be soon. It was only last year that my mother mentioned to me that I should be passing into middle age soon. Stereotypes are fun, eh?

The conversation with Mike in early 1994 is important. There are people (like, as he said, Miles, who would grow old naturally and happily) who grow old and people who are damned to be young for the rest of their existence. That reminds me: I’d be good to get in touch with him sometime soon, not only for nostalgic’s sake.

I think a large portion of the film is about forgetting people who are important. Well, perhaps that is just an ironic point of view. Ach Jo. What scratching impulse does one have when all one’s friends have been murdered because of some absurd political reason?

So I am going to watch the remainder of the film and sadden myself because of its inhumanty. I gotta figure out how to translate this to fucksheep zitra, for sure. FUCK.

I just pissed in a bottle because there is someone in the jointly shared toilet/bathroom in this fetid place.

At this very moment, I’d love to hear the song Been Alone so Long by Peter Hammill. It seems to sum up the evening though it really, rationally has not been so long since I have been alone. Just over three days. Funny how time can scrape and maul your senses. It seems like years, decades. And she transforms herself into the one who can survive her run of the mill world, the world I am very rarely allowed to see - Honeybuníčka land. I am not very happy about the September memory of her calling & messaging when she was drunk in Krnov. I was with Garth then and he shared my pain. I could see it in his face. I wonder what she was really doing, why she was really unavailable. And she accuses me of being suspicious. Oh yes, I am, and after the way she talks about her obsession with sex and the way she hides every other point of her social life from me – who wouldn’t be suspicious? I can think of no-one. You?

Breakfast time! Darling is showering again, which is a prime time to write, don’tcha think? A great deal of yesterday was spent with the grandparents, chowing down, chatting, and poking whenever possible. Poking is one of the favourite pastimes of my darling, and, apparently, her grandfather. Directness has taken on a new dimension in this family, let me tell ya! During the ending portion of lunch, I was barraged, by proxy, with a series of “personal” questions, culminating in my thoughts about children in my future. My genial reader will certainly know this is perhaps a topic not best explored initially. I mean by initially the immediate time surrounding the meeting with relatives. Whatever? My reply went to Jaroslav (grandfather) by proxy, as well. It was that I would not answer questions were they deemed unsuitable by myself (or something akin to that, anyway). The situation at the lunch table was strained for a short time afterwards and zenithed with Jana arguing with Jaroslav. We left, but I believe it was in good graces (later in the evening indicated this since hours were spent again with them, and in a totally pleasant manner).

We walked. She told me something pertaining to a trait I’ve heard of and noticed among many people. She said this: If a certain topic is good for them, it should be good for everyone (around). She carried by saying she thought it was probably a symptom of their old age. It may be true, in a sense, but I have encountered this sort of point of view in many groups of people throughout my life. I am unsure from where it springs, but my guess would be lack of diverse contact with varied types of people and cultural genres. I don’t want to complain here at all - for I like Jana’s grandparents very much. This concept just reminded me of others who are extreme in this “my point of view is the best / only point of view” whom I’ve known in the past. I suppose everyone suffers from this malady (if I can be so silly as to use such a word). Self-observation seems a “cure” (if again I can use a silly word). All in all, I was happy with my mostly hapless communication skills. We managed with my darling, the proxy, by my side, to have discourses on a number of (albeit simple yet satisfying) topics throughout the evening.

This morning, before our couscous adventure with the grandparents begins, Jana aims to analyse the handwriting in this cute little new journal. OH! It’s so small!

Krnov in a makeshift couchbed as the timid girl of my dreams takes a long morning shower. I am happy as a child in this place. Trains carried me satisfactorily to the small but unassuming railway station yesterday. I disembarked and walked hand in hand with Jana through the town, taking a long way, finally arriving here where I have recently given up on sleeping and plan to pursue vigorously the new day. Xmas day, according to the legends, they all say.

Meeting the family can always be an awkward situation. I must admit I was nervous, a trembling deer on a cold night near the highway, but I warmed nearly immediately though my communication skills are sorely lacking. Hey, I certainly tried. Yeah. Kapr was dinner with its close companions potato salad and fishy soup. Xmas in the midsection of Europe - possibly the center of the world - certainly the center of mine! I’ll have to review my ex-journals to find the description of my last Czech Xmas dinner. As far as I can recall, however, this current one blew the previous away without even a smidgen of effort. Possibly atmosphere helped, as well, but my mind cannot conjure right now a realistic comparison. The only mote in the evening was related to Gustav’s whining which often interrupted the clear and otherwise fruitful events.

I received a multitude of gifts (one of which I am writing in now). I was left wondering whether I should’ve brought more! :( My tummy is fumbling and soon breakfast will foist itself upon me!

Jana appears to be completing her shower. It is time to enjoy my second day in a town I’ve wanted to see for nearly a year. More later…

My woman lies in the other room on the bed with a book. The only words she has spoken to me since I returned from work were sarcastic or scurrilous. She claims her mood springs from our Skype chat earlier. I invited her to go to a film tonight and she asked why I liked sitting down so much. She said she’d go, but I have to go to power yoga with her in return. I told her I would not feel comfortable in a group exercise environment (which is certainly true) and she was patently offended, it seems.

We have been wavering. For a long time now.

She treated me with this emotional icyness in the past and I endured it, always building, hoping for better days. Perhaps I was wasting my time. Perhaps she was wasting hers, as well. It is certainly an indication that our relationship is on the rocks when what were once seen as only small cracks in my personality now must shield themselves from a torrential flood from her. So she is not happy. How to let it go?

She said she was looking for a new place to live. She said she wants to leave me. It hurt. It still does a bit, but the pain is waning. As I strolled through the chilly evening from the bus-stop to our flat, I felt a smile creep to my lips as I thought of freedom.

At this moment, a techno/hip hop version of Zarozinia by Hawkwind is permeating the office from the speakers attached to the laptop of my officemate, Petr. Well, what should I expect, really, considering the abortion I heard yesterday? (Baba ORiley by The Who.) I yearn for the peace of my own office space. So

Strange how these days remind me of six years prior. SIX YEARS! Can I enumerate the situations which have held me in limbo since then? They are not to be numbered. They cannot be. I shall go out to smoke a cigarette, down the spiral stairs and onto the parking lot. Delivery men will watch me passively.

Oh, the boss is here. What shall I do? If I have to sit here all day doing nothing important, I shall squeeze my own liver out of my torso and feed it to the bastards who make me live a life which is unimportant.

Jenicek was far away. I remember that clearly. I watched my face in the mirror in the elevator as I descended to take my cigarette. My mind was on the future. On a future that was not particularly defined (everything now seemed to me wanted defined). Vesna was at home (was it home? not really) waiting. I passed time wasting the internet with my intentions. I got no further than earning money for doing nothing. Is it possible in this case, six years later? That is a fucking good question, my friend.

Petr now describes some easy to understand concept on the white-board to Jan whilst I listen to Magma in the headphones Vladimir supplied me. It is only ironic in a deadly passive way. No questions for me, for sure. I am a rock untouched by the lapping waves of questions. For now, I shall not erode.

This is really just a test post, so don't get your hopes up for something deep, philisophical, lurid or otherwise interesting at all.

My desk is a bordel. My brain is foggy with notions which are half-formed. I need to flee my workplace and hop on bus 49, on which I’ll be sped away to a liaison (sortof) with bus 44, which will whisk me to a patch of cement which is within 7 minutes walk of my place.

I should definately implement “multiple topics” per entry. I am wondering about the user interface, however. A comma seperated list? A list box for predefined topics? A dilemma! As for this test post:

  code deleted for aesthetic reasons...

That should make things into paragraphs! I just thought of a possible problem, however. If I were posting boatloads of code, It would paragraphify it even if it were between ‘pre’ tags (or ‘code’ tags). Uff. Ah fucking well.

I have just finished a rather large plate of millet, dates, honey and pears. My stomach is relatively happy. I shall most probably be late to work again since I am procrastinating that diabolical shower thing, but no-one will say a word when I arrive. They will only place aggrivated glances on my back at poisoned times during the day.

This appears to be the first entry in the brand new, fantastic, orgasmic Fucksheep Blog. May more come with regularity. Ooouh, baby.