Chryssulas Boy Cave | its about life really
Time 2021-11-20 15:07:09Web Name: Chryssulas Boy Cave | its about life really
WebSite: http://chryssula.wordpress.com
ID:241298
Keywords:
Cave,Boy,Chryssulas,its,really,life,about,Description:
keywords: description:it's about life... really Home About ChryssulaWhat a strangecreature.Get a quote for your textprojectDark Vila exhibition at Can Jeroni in Sant Josep (Nov, 23rd Dec, 16th,2012)La nit estesa thenovelVerbatim Mutabor RSS Chryssulas Boy Cave its about life really Recent Posts The Hangman by MauriceOgden May 21, 2021 I cant stand this love, Goodbye! (feat. The Others 1965 RCARecords) November 12, 2020 31 noches de IgnacioEscolar November 10, 2020 Get up, stand up (just like Bob Marley said ) Get up, standup November 9, 2020 Before the World wasmade November 6, 2020 art author interview Catalan #NoaTIL Barcelona demonstration Franco Catalonia connecting critical awareness culture 15M moviment Ancient Greece Apuleius artist Eliot George Orwell Kris Kuksi books I like Daphne du Maurier civil disobedience exhibition indignados Noam Chomsky quote social media solstice dark vila educational reform in Spain equality films Germany growing up Hugh Jackman Ibiza idiosyncratic Bes club culture letters nostalgia personal clean internet penpal suicide Tanit Ibiza interview Independence interview learning process men and women gender studies Miscellaneous music photography poetry real life 20th century 21st century affluenza coming of age communication hero luxury planning profession world history Euro crisis xenophobia Salvador Macip sex social disparities travel historic sites London Miami South Beach New York City Paris Scotland Walking United States of America Wert Writing anti hero anti-hero craft drugs amphetamine heroin street slang hero love writers erotic literature Latest Entries Get up, stand up (just like Bob Marley said ) Get up, standup Filed under: Writing Leave a comment November 9, 2020I think some of the people who follow my blogging output and also know me perhaps personally or at least know who I am, a blogger, a professional in sales but also a writer and a poet, a scrabble fanatic, fencer, translator, copywriter, an incredible nerd when it comes to languages, yes, I speak eight languages and still not done yet, and quite a quirky character altogether. So for everyone who knows me thus far, will also know that I have had a very traumatic divorce that has destroyed and distorted everything and the aftermath is still perceived through a very lopsided divorce and also through a court case that is brought against me. This has resulted in many things especially leaving the blog aside It literally made me speechless.
The worst of all however, is the alienation apart from being wrongly accused and sued for child support by the very man who I was married to for almost twenty years, who destroyed the trust and who did not let me take my children with me when the marriage broke down as he repeatedly cheated me and had an affair during our marriage the reality of being used, abused and alienated. The alienation weighs the heaviest apart from the psychological trauma. Me from my daughters, as much as they are from me. The short intervals that we have had were like periods when you are coming up for air. Nothing more and nothing less. It is like a trauma that occurs and reoccurs.
We all the three of us have been suffering from the trauma, the hatred and the situation as such in the past four years. None of this has been looked at properly, none of it has been considered, treated, as frankly, we all were busy with somehow getting on with our lives. But we finally need to get the legal situation straightened out. Because of what we are faced with, and because I have no funds to pay for the legal support that is now absolutely mandatory due to the extremeness of the situation. It is sad that the whole story has been twisted, and fabricated and this was even necessary.
Putting the emotions aside, we have opened this campaign on gofundme. After initial modest success, the campaign seems to have run dry. Please imagine what this means to three people in this world. Please imagine what it would mean to you.
This story might not seem much to you, it might not even touch you since you do not know the gory details, which I of course cannot offer, and will keep to myself in order to divulge them at a later stage in court But to me and my two daughters not being able to freely see each other, being prisoners of such a twisted story has had and continues to have a devastating mental health impact. It is sometimes to keep on fighting when you cannot see the end of the tunnel.
After trying to activate local politicians, again with less than desirable effect and also local councillors, I have decided to finally make this public on a broader scale and I really do hope that this story goes viral, as it is necessary for people to understand how wrong and how crippling and how absolutely beastly and morally corrupt parental alienation is.
To me the extent of this type of behaviour is equivalent to that of domestic abuse. Maybe even worse, as it is some type of abuse that does not leave visible marks. You dont have a black eye to show for. You do not have the torn clothes, or scratches all over your body, but believe me when I say, the scars of this period in hell will be over our souls for some time to come. And it is finally time to turn the tables.
It is so important that a change in thinking takes place. Parental alienation is hell on earth. For those who are on the receiving end, and that is the alienated parent, and the children too of course.
And there is no good and no bad parental alienation. Very clearly, it does not matter if this is initiated by a female person or as in this case by a male person who is the perpetrator. It is psychological violence. It is abuse.
To be honest, sometimes I think I have just woken up and start to become able again to finally get a grip and really act. The realisation was hard, and it was also admitting to myself that I was unable to tackle this on my own. We have been silent for too long. Maybe for different reasons. Out of shame, disbelief, but more out of trauma and its secondary impact certainly. As this is what sadly unites us. And this is the precise reason why I urge you, kind reader of this article, to take to this plea and imagine what it would mean to you to a) be separated for no good reason from your children other than the hatred of your ex-partner and b) if you knew how much your children suffered because of this and you feel impotent to shake this incredible situation off.
The upshot of this is the following. If you feel that this is indeed a worthy, genuine and valid cause, please take the time to look at our gofundme page and try to give the equivalent of maybe a sandwich and a coffee in town. If only some more people would understand that especially in such uncertain times as these with a pandemic and looming drastic changes in our economic and also societal surroundings it would be nice, more than nice to see that some people in fact have a heart for someone like me who seems to slip through the cracks of the system. I am employed and I just about scrape by. I do not have the money to pay for this legal support that I need. Please be assured that your money will be used to help to get justice. And that to me seems a very worthy cause.
Meanwhile one of my daughters is 18 and will soon come to live with me, as she now can without the permission of her legal guardian, one other daughter (15) will need to wait until we get the custody changed and she can finally do what she wants to, which is come to live with me. That was the trigger of the campaign.
If you wish to publish or share this story, feel free to do so. Also please get in touch with me by leaving your email in the comments and I will provide you with more information or a picture which you can use for social media.
Thanks.
Namaste.
Here is the link gf.me/u/x9f22c
If I make the lashes dark
And the eyes more bright
And the lips more scarlet,
Or ask if all be right
From mirror after mirror,
No vanity’s displayed:
I’m looking for the face I had
Before the world was made.
What if I look upon a man
As though on my beloved,
And my blood be cold the while
And my heart unmoved?
Why should he think me cruel
Or that he is betrayed?
I’d have him love the thing that was
Before the world was made.
W.B. Yeats
Image source in the link below:
A very impressive poem written in the fifties of the past century
Here animated by a psychedelic 1960s short movie with dramatized reading
Ok, today is one of those days you really want to rip out of the calendar as they make absolutely no sense. The day where you want to smash something to pieces.
Here we go. The soundtrack to my mood
Some garage punk fuzz, sixties fast garage style to dance away the night and to beat the mood
Here are the lyrics. I could not find them anywhere, so read with caution
The Others
Goodbye!
Goodbye!
Goodbye!
Goodbye!
Well I hate to leave you
But I have to go, goodbye!
You played me bad.
You deserve it so. Goodbye!
I cant stand this love. Goodbye!
Goodbye! Goodbye!
You know our loves dont bate
So I have to say
This times for real.
Im on my way. Goodbye!
I cant stand this love. Goodbye!
This is the end, and I am dead and new.
This is the end cos our love is through!
Goodbye!
Goodbye!
Goodbye! (Screams)
This is the end and I am dead and new
This is the end of our lovers two
Goodbye!
Goodbye!
Well I hate to leave you.
But I have to go. Goodbye!
Well you played me bad.
You deserve it so. Goodbye!
I cant stand this love. Goodbye!
31 noches is good. That is the Spanish title of a book of some 150 pages that is an easy afternoon read. It was previously published as a weekly (?) read in some newspaper in 2009. Now it has come out in book form. Well. Not easy, but it is a fast read. And you wont be disappointed. Apart from a lightning fast pace, the author shows insight in the social, political and sociocultural realities in Spain. The plot is set in Madrid. Since I hardly know Madrid, the book was difficult for me in as much I had to mostly imagine the places he was talking about since he merely stated the name of a certain district but took it as read that people will know the place. But it does not do the book and its understanding any harm. The book is full of insider knowledge, but also full of allusions. But the later ones are hidden in the things that some of the characters say or the way they speak or think. Mind you, this is not a read for children, neither for adolescents. This is an adult read. It is painfully adult at times. But nevertheless a good book, partly one could even call it critical, but that is just a very personal opinion. Read it and spread the news.
How did I come across this book? I virtually stumbled upon it. It popped up in casa del libro when I was looking online. Since I write something that may be called similar in terms of topic (but only very roughly) I thought this would be an interesting read. And it was. However, it struck me how few expressions colloquial terms /frases fetes/ I know in Spanish and which therefore I had to guess and how many I know by now in Catalan. But I digress
Read the book. It is definitely worth it. It is a mix of crime, film noir, but also a bit of a belated coming of age novel. And at the end the book has a mean twist, something unexpected happens.
PS: One question remains to be answered. When a serious journalist like Escolar writes fictional books, they are never just fictional books Are they?
by John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892)
Blessings on thee, little man,
Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!
With thy turned-up pantaloons,
And thy merry whistled tunes;
With thy red lip, redder still
Kissed by strawberries on the hill;
With the sunshine on thy face,
Through thy torn brim`s jaunty grace;
From my heart I give thee joy,
I was once a barefoot boy!
Prince thou art, the grown-up man
Only is republican.
Let the million-dollared ride!
Barefoot, trudging at his side,
Thou hast more than he can buy
In the reach of ear and eye,
Outward sunshine, inward joy:
Blessings on thee, barefoot boy!
Oh for boyhood`s painless play,
Sleep that wakes in laughing day,
Health that mocks the doctor`s rules,
Knowledge never learned of schools,
Of the wild bee`s morning chase,
Of the wild-flower`s time and place,
Flight of fowl and habitude
Of the tenants of the wood;
How the tortoise bears his shell,
How the woodchuck digs his cell,
And the ground-mole sinks his well;
How the robin feeds her young,
How the oriole`s nest is hung;
Where the whitest lilies blow,
Where the freshest berries grow,
Where the ground-nut trails its vine,
Where the wood-grape`s clusters shine;
Of the black wasp`s cunning way,
Mason of his walls of clay,
And the architectural plans
Of gray hornet artisans!
For, eschewing books and tasks,
Nature answers all he asks;
Hand in hand with her he walks,
Face to face with her he talks,
Part and parcel of her joy,
Blessings on the barefoot boy!
Oh for boyhood`s time of June,
Crowding years in one brief moon,
When all things I heard or saw,
Me, their master, waited for.
I was rich in flowers and trees,
Humming-birds and honey-bees;
For my sport the squirrel played,
Plied the snouted mole his spade;
For my taste the blackberry cone
Purpled over hedge and stone;
Laughed the brook for my delight
Through the day and through the night,
Whispering at the garden wall,
Talked with me from fall to fall;
Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond,
Mine the walnut slopes beyond,
Mine, on bending orchard trees,
Apples of Hesperides!
Still as my horizon grew,
Larger grew my riches too;
All the world I saw or knew
Seemed a complex Chinese toy,
Fashioned for a barefoot boy!
Oh for festal dainties spread,
Like my bowl of milk and bread;
Pewter spoon and bowl of wood,
On the door-stone, gray and rude!
O`er me, like a regal tent,
Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent,
Purple-curtained, fringed with gold,
Looped in many a wind-swung fold;
While for music came the play
Of the pied frogs` orchestra;
And, to light the noisy choir,
Lit the fly his lamp of fire.
I was monarch: pomp and joy
Waited on the barefoot boy!
Cheerily, then, my little man,
Live and laugh, as boyhood can!
Though the flinty slopes be hard,
Stubble-speared the new-mown sward,
Every morn shall lead thee through
Fresh baptisms of the dew;
Every evening from thy feet
Shall the cool wind kiss the heat:
All too soon these feet must hide
In the prison cells of pride,
Lose the freedom of the sod,
Like a colt`s for work be shod,
Made to tread the mills of toil,
Up and down in ceaseless moil:
Happy if their track be found
Never on forbidden ground;
Happy if they sink not in
Quick and treacherous sands of sin.
Ah! that thou couldst know thy joy,
Ere it passes, barefoot boy!
Dont forget.
Play safe.
Aids is still around.
Condoms are the answer.
Protect yourself.
(This pic is random but I like it nonetheless.)
Share this:MoreLike this: Loading... Comment A new cadence, a newsong Filed under: Writing Leave a comment May 19, 2019Ok, so there has been quite a large hiatus. In between then and now, a lot of things happened. I will not delve into them. The few people who I still trust enough what it was that made my life stop as I knew it and crumble and crash. It took me quite a while to reassemble the shattered pieces.
Nonetheless, I look back on my past life and I feel all the more stronger for what happened to me.
Now it is time to pick up the things that I left unattended, and those were the creative things in my life, from which I drew so much pleasure and so much relaxation. Maybe it was a pivotal mistake to solely concentrate on surviving, but that is what I did in the past three years. And now, the time has come to open up an entirely new chapter.
Being a writer, this translates as Yes time for a new book.
But being the writer that I am, would one book alone really be sufficient? I hardly think so.
A friend of mine, another writer from Catalonia, suggested a couple of years back, that I might finally get to write down my story. I shook my head back then. It didnot feel right. I always felt that this is the kind of thing, almost autobiograpical, you can do that when youre 80 or 85 or so. I felt much too young to look back upon my life, but now, having given this thought some consideration I actually think, yes, it is time I wrote my life story (so far) down. There are many inklings that actually give me reason to believe it is a good idea: A) because it has been a wild ride. B) because it might help people in the same kind of dilemma (without giving too much away). C) because I dont want to keep this story inside my chest for the rest of my life (it is readable). D) because I wish people to know the truth and E) it might prove cathartic.
That is one of my upcoming book projects. But of course, not the only one.
The second one is the English translation of my first novel in catalan, La nit estesa. I will definitely do it this summer, no matter what. This is a promise to myself and to all the people who bugged me long enough. I am still not quite happy with the title as the title does not fit in English So I will need to give it some thought.
Last but not least, I am planning to write two squeaky new books, fictional books, both a short story reader of existing and new short stories, as well as, in this instance, a brandnew novel. About what that novel will revolve, I shall not divulge at this moment, but it does have remotely to do with values, and a person trying to uphold them. Against all odds.
So, there will be something to read by me It will take time, but since I am more focused and also more aware that I lost three years where I did not write, this time around, I will put in energy that is needed to accomplish the task.
Poetry is also something that will accompany me, it comes slowly back and it will come along too. But here you simply need to wait until you have a new leitmotif. Just like in music. A new cadence. A new song.
Share this:MoreLike this: Loading... Comment Nice and sleazy or The Truth of theMatter Filed under: Writing Leave a comment February 29, 2016The truth of the matter
its all in the fetter
of someones words to you
when youre all woo-woo
then come a day that drowns
ye, and leave you all with frowns
and yet the truth of the matter
its all in the fetter
of someones words to you
and if youre willing to pursue
or if its rather a coo coo
Has your souls got a sneeze
let it take another breeze
theres many men, many a thunder
many to break your heart asunder
if youre reading this, you care
if youre writing me, Id say you dare
help me cure my bloody disease
make me try up my tears and deep-freeze
those stupid emotions that were but a tease
The truth of the matter
its all in the fetter
of someones words to you
they may be truth, they may be lies
they may be silent, they may be cries
but behold the matter
thats all in the fetter
of the someones actions for you
that go beyond the meaning of coo
and if not, then excuse me but I need to atchoo!
Has my souls got a sneeze
I bet it does, and it aint a disease
its but a poorly clad conmans trick
the rabbit in the hat, and another stick
fly fly lies, good bye to all sighs
fly fly dreams, good bye to all ties
the truth of the matter
its all in the fetter
in your hearts shatter
in your hearts matter
in your hearts fetter
Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed- interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisure wear and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing sprit- crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing you last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life But why would I want to do a thing like that?
Yup. Thats not mine but it pretty much describes the fix of consumerism one tends to get into
Im not really into material things that much, I guess I used to be, but thats a desire from a very boring decade of my life.
Why do I post it now? Two reasons.
One. Im looking forward to seeing Trainspotting 2, the first one which made me the person I am today Lol. Probably really true.
Second. I can relate to the passage. Very much.
Share this:MoreLike this: Loading... Comment Older EntriesTAGS:Cave Boy Chryssulas its really life about
<<< Thank you for your visit >>>
it's about life... reallyWebsites to related : DELFI Žinios - Pagrindinis nauj
keywords:
description:DELFI.lt naujausios žinios, politika, verslas, sportas, pramogos, orai, horoskopai, TV programa, piliečių nuomonės ir koment
keywords:
description:
Monday, June 10, 2019
keywords:
description:Killiane Castle Country House is an escape from the ordinary. Ideal staycation or short break in the heart of the Wexford countr
keywords:
description:
Friendpaste New paste Services About
keywords:
description:
INFO MISSION CURATORS JUDGESWINNERSPRESS PRESS RELEASE PRESSCONTACTA
keywords:
description:
ip-address.comHomeMy IPSpeedtestSitemapProxy CheckerProxy ListVerify Email AddressTrace Email AddressIP to Zip CodeIP Address D
keywords:Booking UK Hotels publisher description, publisher description, Booking UK Hotels download, Booking UK Hotels free download, Booking UK Hotel
Orange County National Golf Cent keywords:
description:Orange County National Golf Center
You are using an outdated browser For a better experience using this site,
keywords:
description:
Home
keywords:
description:Daily Yoga Classes . Sivananda Hatha Yoga. Acro Yoga. Holistic health care . Massage . Watsu Therapy In Brussels . Place Stépha
Hot Websites