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Under the Sound of Hell :)

16 Jul

Some places in Kiev. ImageImageImageImageImageImageImageImageImageImageImage

My hang out (Let’s drink a bunch of wine!)

1 Jul

Attention! This woman is still Angelina Jolie yet. ImageImage

The best guy in the world) 

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Such a beautiful woman) Love you, Marilyn))

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The most beautiful woman in the world.

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Such a talented actress!Image

Oh, Courteney Cox!) You are great, I love you. You are the best comedian actress, thank you!Image

Iron Maggie) One of the strongest women on earth. ImageImage

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He is a great actor. I’m sure he is said to be the hope of modern cinema. Of course if he avoids dumb movies and chasing fame. Image

Jack) No words)))))Image

I respect this guy so much! He’s really great. Image

He is too talented and charismatic to stay Sherlock for ever. Although he is the best Sherlock ever. ImageImage

Such a beautiful woman, such a great actress, so deep british speech… Love you Kate, thank you so much!

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The gifted one.

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Such a great man) Thanks, Matthew, really! For Chandler Bing, for Friends! What a bright comedian actor. But the one who is the actor of one part… So sorry.

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Genious.ImageImage

Thanks for House M.D. So much! My ovations!Image

The Queen)Image

There is no woman in the world who I could love so much! You are so talented, so beautiful, so dear! Thank you Courtney, thank you so much! Love you so much!

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Journalism As It Is

16 Jun

Let’s start with saying that no profession is a cakewalk. But they say we can be happy doing what we truly love to do, no matter how complicated or challenging it can get.

Journalism is considered to be one of the most interesting but at the same time the most difficult professions.

The reason why I’m writing all this is to express my negative point of view about the profession that I’m going to choose.

You are free to disagree with me but I think that journalism is too dependent. If you work for some magazine or a TV company, you are expected to consider the policy of the employee. There is no way you can do what you want when people who hire you have an individual format and they fight for it. For example, you will have to do an exactly that kind of a reportage you are expected to do. You will have to study the previous work of the institution you work for and put into practice this or that pattern. Things can go really crazy: the editor can either transform your article beyond recognition or give you his own words to write so the work could match “the pattern”. I consider this way of a journalists’ work to be wrong and irrational. First of all it excludes journalism from the list of creative professions. Obviously creative work, or art which it is, can’t exist without freedom of choice and creative individual thinking. Also there is no chance a professional writer, a journalist can grow up in his field being stuck in one unchangeable format. You can’t broaden your mind or change for better if all you do is follow strict examples and don’t change at all. You have to try yourself in different styles, you have to find your own one; a good professional should be flexible. To grow up, to change something you have to quit your comfort zone. Moreover if you want your business or your job to be successful you shouldn’t stop at some points. If you feel that you are the best or you’ve reached all the big success you should start moving to another side, try something new. If you stop you may just become a piece of shit.

Another problem is journalism being all about “write the way all people could understand it”. Writing some stupid and inelaborate stuff for stupid people who don’t want to think is overwhelming. There is a great chance that you will be made to write about such dull and unnecessary things like personal life of celebrities or the City’s Day concert. This isn’t important, you don’t help people, you don’t write about the real problems and that interesting way the planet is moving. But to my great disappointment stupid news are demanded by people, it’s just what they want. So a journalist is a bitch of the society.

Spending all the time in the water of stupid events and uncreative work can make a person be the fish of his working river. This is an opposite process of growing up and becoming better as a professional.

Sometimes when I think about the work a journalist has to do it makes me wanna puke. Just one simple example: I am to interview some famous musician. From my point of view the interview should go about music, art, thoughts, feelings and so on. How can I accomplish my own task if I have to talk about a singer’s pregnancy? How can I be a great professional if I am told the way I should write? Steve Jobs said “It doesn’t make sense to hire smart people and then tell them what to do; we hire smart people so they can tell us what to do.” There’s no need to explain how these words are related to journalism.

With all the bad things I have described I still think that you can turn journalism to an opposite side. If one wants journalism to be creative work, if one wants independence of writing and working with really interesting stuff he or she should create its own “journalism platform”. Let it be a magazine for example. But this idea will work out only when really hard work, talent, strong will, revolutionary ideas, the ability to put people together and money become a unified power.

It’s necessary to say that journalism is a great way to write stupid things out of your head and your writing style. But it’s for those who decided to go down the road where journalism is just 1 mile highway full of bricks and tricky turns.

It’s necessary to admit that being a journalist can get you some necessary acquaintances.

I think it’s great that I realized all these things so early. It means I won’t face too much disappointment in future.

This or that way you are to choose your own life. I believe that hard work, a desire and a talent can get you any type of journalism. We are to decide what to do. No one said it’s gonna be easy, but still no one said it’s impossible.

Prom 2013

16 Jun

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A don’t-care type of guy

7 Apr
I so don’t care.
I’m done with this entire round-shaped world.
The only “entire” thing left in me is the bottle of red wine.
I don’t wanna think.
I wanna thank. That this moment came.
Finally came to purify me and take some silliness away.
I don’t care about school; I don’t care about what a teacher will put me tomorrow, don’t care how big the prison of stupid tasks and work will be. I so don’t care how much I will sleep and eat. I feel nothing for almost all the people, for almost all the events. I don’t listen to what they say, I don’t feel how they try to hurt me.
I let all the feelings go. I’m empty like that entire bottle of wine. All I see is pure white. The endless infinity of white world.
I’m not scared of the future. I don’t care what I will have to do.  I’ve got everything I need. I’ve got the sense to live and my person. I’m completely indifferent what steps I will have to make to reach, I will do. I’m not afraid. Even if I don’t enter a university I will stay calm because I know that everything happens for a reason. I will take any chance to grow up and develop myself. When I let my fear go I realized that I’m able to think clearly, act naturally and understand things. While I stay calm I can go on, go up and never down.
I’m not overwhelmed. I stopped worrying about my mental problems, about my core and my… unperceived, unconditional, uncontrolled and purely natural choice.
I let my anger go. I forgave all people that ever hurt me; I forget all the bad things. Eventually the chaos in my head started turning into a slightly seen bunch of shelves. Unless this is not the impassable, inexplicable and interfering with my work eternal chaos.
I built a wal l. Made of glass. Nobody and nothing can get through it. If they can’t break the wall they can’t get me and fill with their stupidity and misery. They won’t distract me and show the wrong way.
This is my golden time to work and develop in order to become the spirit. This is only for two people in the whole world now.
I don’t care about the world I know. I mean the law, absurd, routine, boring and absoulutely hypocritical part of the World.

“If the world is so wrong then you can FUCK them all with one song!” yeah?

 

I’ll create a new world. THE ONE, my own.
Some will come, something will be gone.
Art and love are those things having sense, the first will go through time, the second one will watch me burn.
I’ll still dream on!
I will never come undone.

Amy Winehouse

8 Jan

This is not dedicated to her death or birthday anniversary. It’s about Amy’s art.

She was always laughed at. Paparazzi did their job well taking pictures of her drunk or “ridiculus”. But  the moment she died was the upgrade of her career. The minute ago she was the dirt, the next moment “Back To Black” is on the top of Billbord and her creative work is risen up to the skies.

Amy was a gifted girl. She has opened the sacred secret of love and feelings.

Her songs reflect pain, sorrow, not sadness, grief, tears and … humility. She wasn’t protesting, didn’t maked a big show of “words-and-no-deeds”. She sang soul songs. Painful, profound and inconsolable songs.

When I plunge her songs I fell that she loved and failed, loved so much she died. Amy burned black, died for love in all ways, ispecially physically. They said she needed rehab, drugs killed her. Of course journalists are good at overplaying and telling lies. They will raze to the ground anyone to get a great blatant story.

“Love is loosing game”. She wished she had never played this game. Life is a loosing game, Amy, yes? We all are seeking the raison d’etre even in semirandom events. We all can’t admit that we’ll die and will never care again about anything. There is nothing there. What a wonder to find your love and stop seeking because you already know the answer. How great and priceless it is. How painfully it hits.

Amy Winehouse failed. Like all of us will do. Some people will call this “the path of least resistance”. But he walked away and never came back. The grief and pain she had to face. So much was cried out and written out.

And those people and mass media. Their “Rehabilitaion”. She didn’t care. Didn’t want to go there. Because she already knew the end.

Amy Winehouse burned to ashes, she knew everything and was ready. Why suffer, why wake up alone, why suffer?

Some of us will see a crazy addict bitch, some of us wil see a girl who was killed by love.

And one more thing that irritates. 27 years old, alcohol, drugs, music, death… This is the classic Rock’n’Roll story. How much money those madmen got. But they don’t see the tragedy. This  cynicism afficts so much. Those morons trivialize music and art.

“They tried to make me go to rehab but I said no, no, no! I ain’t got the time”. Don’t go.

Do you yearn? Because I do.

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New York me, please! Just do it!

5 Jan

2012 was a super shitty year. It was a killing-dreams-sucking-the-life-out-harsh-and-disappointing year. Life is always unfair, it brings down. Unsolved problems and unfulfilled dreams bring down. But when a new year comes we try to forget and forgive. Forget all the problems because people prone to be fed with the hope even when the fridge is empty. Forgive people and ourselves because there is no point in cherishing hatred. Even those who have a broken bottle of wine instead of a heart secretly believe in love. New Year is the summing up of all we’ve done and felt during one year. Everybody believes in what I have just written. You know why? Because we think that the next year is the next chance. One more trial, one more step and attempt and maybe our dreams will come true. Everybody is miserable, some people realized it and some of them still stay in a dark room waiting for a guiding light. Those are happy who become blind after they spend 100 years in a dark room.

As for me I have realized everything. But please don’t judge me just for dreaming.

My answer is always New York. This is the “boiling point”, “the reference point”. The place where a life begins.

Is there anything more beautiful than Times Square during New Year’s Eve or Monica Bellucci? Let’s talk about the Big Apple.

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I watched the video in YouTube. That was the biggest shake of the New Year. Can you imagine? Times Square, New York City, 1 million people around counting out 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and HAPPHY NEW YEAR! The small plaza exploded with fireworks, confetti, shouts, hugs, kisses, flashes, smiles and tears! Oh I was suffering! Goosebumps could have devoured me! This video fucking tore me apart.

Now some words about how I spent the New Year Eve.

I stayed at my place, ate food and watched House M.D. That is exactly what I did the year before. It is even symbolic. With elements of pathetics and irony. If to look back on my life one can see it is a big ironic ass kick.

Why at home? You know rock stars never have friends, never ever, yeh?

I am the one who rewies different movies or series for many times. House is my favorite one. Maybe I just wanted to meet a New Year with someone I love…

I also admit that I was depressed for some period of time, the fact that I’m writing means I’m done with rehabilitation. I’m pure, virgin pure. It’s time to look for the cure!

The cure is the black and white Rock’n’Roll – the quintessence of everything. This is not about 30 Seconds to Mars, Marilyn Manson or other cheap shit. Enough!

Now I wanna show my “Inspirational Letter”. It is to help me keep on moving and breathe. This is just placebo but never mind.

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Charging… Clear! He’s back. The cockroach’s back!

He knows that one day he will be there, no matter what way, doen’t matter what number, being one of the million is even better because nobody cared about psy and other “stars” who were stupidly standing in the “special star place”. Fuck them, fuck their gangnam style, all the shit is in sewage.

I’ll be your lover, I’ll be forever (inspired by “The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer”)

14 Jun

It has always been interesting to dig in someone else’s head. You can IMAGINE different situations, not yours, feel someone ELSE’S pain, not yours, and finally get your own OPINION to situations you may read about. Let’s face it: feeling the pain of other person is more pleasant than feeling yours one. That is one of the reasons why we read books.

Recently I have read “The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer”. I have to say that this is a great book. It is well-written, interesting and some kind of unusual.

The story is about a little a girl in a cute dress in the best society. After that a reader faces the secret of Laura. This secret is her enemy. This is BOB. During reading the story you have to realize who is BOB and if he is real or not.

As to the content BOB is someone who abused Laura, humiliated her and from my point of view screwed up her mental state.

Who she became?

To answer this question we should find the answer for this question:

Who she was?

She was just a girl, who had just started her “life search” with innocent thoughts and actions. This can be said about her experience with boys in the wood. Just naked bodies, but no sex.

But she changed. BOB changed her. She became a drug addicted, sex addicted confused girl. She thought she was a bad person, dirty, stupid girl who deserves to die. I suppose she was controlled by constant fear of meeting BOB.

Laura Palmer became just nothing. She was a depth of lies, drugs, sex and criminal. She understood that life is all about being happy, really happy, but I bet Laura couldn’t find happiness in things which were appropriate for a whore.

The level of happiness was again controlled by fear. She didn’t know if she was allowed to have beautiful, innocent feelings and thoughts (like love). She knew that BOB would never allow this.

How could Laura stay in the place where the walls expressed beauty and innocence? She couldn’t, didn’t deserve it. She understood that her soul becomes having more and more holes, she was dying.

I can also analyze the character from another side. She split into two branches, one of which has dark beginning and the other one conceals the girl, who just wanted to be like others and happy. These parts of Laura’s soul were always in struggle. The second, “beautiful” part of Lora Palmer always tried to reach for light like branches of a tree reach for sun. It showed itself in communication with little Johnny, who was pure and innocent, he was her absolute opposite. Anyway she was afraid to touch something so perfect, she was too depraved. We can also see her kindness in helping old people. But every time she touched the beauty something violent was coming again. The cracks in her soul were too real.

It is necessary to mention about Laura’s pony. Once it was happy with its family, which I mean Laura, but then something happened and this pony had to be alone and struggle. Finally it was shot in the head. It does remind me someone else. I think this is a symbol of what happened to Lora.

Self-destruction always leads to emptiness, so called death. Perceive it as a metaphor or not but in the end there is nothing but emptiness and infinity. Laura died.

To understand why Lora died we need to understand why people drink. To seem cool? – No. For taste? – Hardly. To stay funny? – Doesn’t fit. To relieve pain? – Closer. Laura Palmer being a teenager felt so much pain and fear that sex and cocaine work like vicodin to a person with chronic aches in leg. But finally it didn’t work. The process could never be stopped and was accompanied by different symbols like the killed cat of a little girl or dreams where she violently died, or something like paranoid ideas, again dreams with black sky and even sex became the act of revenge. Everything she touched dried and died. To forget, to survive, to live one more day, to relieve pain, but just not to die.  That is what Laura had in her had. Sex and drugs brought her satisfaction as her dying world couldn’t get closer to something less primitive.

So who is BOB? Is it the part of Laura, her core, her mind or is this a real person who abused and scared the young girl time after time? Both. The part of fear and BOB’s impact on her became her core, where she became numb. This is the reason why Laura couldn’t hold resistance to him, couldn’t give up drugs and change. From the other side BOB was just a maniacal ass whose hobby was to abuse a young girl and make her think she was mad. Who knows how the situation would have turned out if BOB had been just a normal guy.

I sincerely feel sorry for Lora and hope that this always misunderstood girl found her eternal peace.

This is how I understood the secret of Laura’s diary. The best part of the book is that the reader is to decide. To decide who BOB was, why her world was destroyed and by whom. So there is no wrong conclusion. The worst part of the book is that you may find yourself in Lora’s first thoughts and actions, because they were always true and naked. This is about what we are afraid to confess even ourselves.

“Weep” by Reamonn

She turns she burns she feels concealed by

someone that she doesn’t know

She hopes someday he’ll find his way into
these tears that she weeps
She knows she gave she feels enslaved by
what she gave too easily

She hopes in time she waits in line for all
these things that will make her
real

I feel that she woke up feel she’s had
enough

Feel it’s time she opened up her eyes
I feel that she woke up feel she’s had
enough

Feel it’s time she opened up her eyes

She holds the cold she feels so fooled by
all this pain she has revealed

She hopes she cries she holds inside all
these things that will make her real

She screams put your hands on me
Put your hands on me put your hands on
I need to feel you touch
Put your hands on me put your hands on
I need to feel you touch

I feel she’s got to open up her eyes

Put your hands on me

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P.S. Not accepting eternity I’m lying to myself again just NOT to close my eyes and never wake up. With this note I’m finishing my article, dedicated not only to Laura Palmer and my thoughts, but to that one, whose soul name will stand out in all its beauty on my body. All comes with years. With years and to eternity.