Talk? To Whom?

This is a general, honest question about people.
I think that the answer might be in a form of self-protection for most, but I'm still puzzled.

So, before my friends start panicking, I'll state that I'm fine these days, but I still have questions about the way some people react to depression, depressed people and the shadow of suicide.

I'm puzzled because today, I met someone who'd left something in my postbox. He wasn't even surprised that I hadn't opened the box in a week when I said so.
He probably thought that I wasn't home, but in fact, I hadn't left my flat since the day before the one he put the note in my box. I was just working hard to plan my lessons, and since I had a full fridge, I didn't leave my nest.
I could have been unwell or depressed, but he didn't say a thing.
Are we just all being too polite?
"Are you fine?"
"Yes, thank you. And you?"
"Fine, thank you."
Are we drowning in formulas?
Do we care?
This is one thing that disturbed me.

Then, twice in the past, I asked contacts to check on me if I ever became silent on the net.
No one cared.
I could be slime on my floor by now. No one cared to check on me when I did disappear because, yes, back then, I was depressed and needed someone, anyone to wave my way.
That was the Internet, where people care and don't care... Okay.

I've seen people encourage depressed people to speak and contact friends, relatives or complete strangers if they think about death.
Fine.
All right.
Short of phoning the Samaritans, to whom can you turn when you've no contact with your relatives (who wouldn't care anyway), when the people around you are being polite (but not interested in your life), and icing on the cake, when your friends to whom you mention suicide ignore what you just said?
Back when I was feeling down because I'd just lost two people to suicide, I felt extremely low. I did try to speak, and no one listened.
What do you do then?

Broken Promise (with a Lie on the Side)

Is it the end of the world? Absolutely not, but that won't stop me from being disappointed.

If you've been reading prior entries, this will ring a bell: a few months ago, we got new doors in my building (to raise the rent - I'm not buying the 'It'll be better for your security' reason, sorry).

My problem was that they wanted my phone number, which bothered me on several levels.

Back then, my caretaker saved the day by suggesting that I didn't give my number, which, he said, would force the building owners to give me a box which my visitors could call in order to have me open the door. Swell! He was my hero.

Hint: notice the tense.

I was unwell for most of June, then I was hacked, then I was on the roads for two months.

I decided to bite the bullet today and hop by my caretaker's lair in order to ask him what would happen if someone wanted to come see me.

The next scene was surreal:

Caretaker: Oh, you'll have to give your phone number.

Me: But you said...

Caretaker: That's the only way.

He didn't say that that he'd never mentioned a special box, but he implied it so "loudly" that I got the message very clearly: 'You've been smoking the lawn, little lady'. 

Basically, he thought there was another way, but it turns out that he was wrong.

That's an honest mistake, but I don't like that he made me feel as if I'd been dreaming about that other way that he mentioned.

So, yea, it's not the end of the world, but yea, I am disappointed.

Idiotic Bipeds Alert

I'm an idiot.

My blood starts boiling too fast, and whilst I do feel compassion, I also feel the urge to grab my favourite rolling pin and use it on the skulls of plonkers!

What's making me growl today?

This:

Now, yes, it's not my country, but to quote Buffy: 'Yada, yada, yada.'.

It's still my bloody planet, and I'm furious.

I'd love to watch that documentary. It looks extremely interesting.
I just tweeted about it, but I'm so angry that I feel the urge to tell the world how I feel.

Do I have something to say about the beauty contest? Not much. Yes, oh, sweet Merlin it's a degrading exploitation of looks (and possibly of young women's dreams), but it bugs me a lot less than the rest of what we're shown in these extracts - and the lady who tells young women to go with change because that's the only constant in life was quite awesome (and she's got a point!).

First, the "lady" we see from the start should be smacked. Bloody hell! When she asks the young girls (who look either scared or bored or outraged, by the way) if it's okay for them to even want a career, I wanted to shout at my screen 'YES!!!'.
Yes, it's okay because they're not slaves, because they've got their own lives, and because the idiot who's lecturing them is, pardon me, not exactly staying at home since she's on a bloody stage telling gals to do as she says, but not as she's doing.
Hell, I could punch her... and there goes my bloody karma!

Then, the male Hindu extremists we see, in courageous and righteous mobs [*gags*], attacking young women make me sick. I'll admit that I wasn't aware of the extent of the issue until I saw these images. And when I saw these images, I wished I could use my aforementioned rolling pin on them. This is no joke; these people are awakening a monster in me that could/would become violent if confronted with them.

Next, the young girl at the camp. The way she's been brainwashed is making me so sad. The bipeds who scrambled her brain cells so much that she'd kill never did anything to deserve her.

The so-called father in the part where his delightful daughter is considered a "product" (yes, we get it, Cupcake, your lil' contribution in her DNA allows you to say that you own her [*gags again*]) is a complete disgrace. That sinister plonker was blessed with a good child and what does he do? He tortures her for pretending to have done her homework when she hadn't finished it. I loathe that biped. His problem isn't that his brain's stuck in a cave; it's that he doesn't have a heart and that he's convinced that he's got the right to treat his daughter like a property, a piece of furniture.
He's another candidate for my rolling pin.

What I see in this is boys (whatever their age!) being encouraged to treat women like slaves - because they're made to think that it's the right thing to do and that they've got the right to do so. In the meantime, the girls are being brainwashed or scared into obeying and allowing boys to boss them around.
I hate that.
That's not the planet I want, and I wish I could protect these children and educate them in compassion, tolerance and a healthy dose of "mind your own business".
I'd be in sooooo much trouble if I lived over there.

Remembrance (a General Post - Incidentally Written on September 11th)

#NeverForget is something I often use on Twitter (must be the years training to become an archivist and the BA in History... plus the fact that I care - too much).

It's got me into trouble a few times (denialists happen).

Of course, I don't know everything about History. I wasn't made aware of all the wars and tragedies since the beginning of time.

I remember that one of my teachers in college spent an afternoon explaining, in great details, the battle of Agincourt. He focussed on the mediaeval aspects, but I spotted links with other, more recent battles (soldiers will always be on the side of anything that can make them win - even if it means that more people will die than in the preceding conflicts; after all, they're soldiers, and that's what they do).

I had another History teacher who was rather fond of military history, and he taught my class everything important in the military from Julius Caesar to Napoleon.

WWI? My family taught me about that one (it was the beginning of the end for us).

WWII? My family again (that was why some of them ended up in London, which is a silver lining in my book), and German classes (nine years of German, nine years of WWII), and other History classes... and my own work.

Why this post? Because I know that I remember too many sad things and events, and I'd probably be less stressed if I forgot a few things (I envy the people who delete things from their brains in order to protect themselves). Because I read too many newspapers that keep me informed of what's going on in the world, and I spot the connections with the past and it makes me sad and angry. History should not be repeating itself (but that's because most people forget).

Why today? Because I'm sad and angry.

Let's deal with the angry part first because it mostly applies to things being remembered today. It's because I remember how, on Internet forums in 2002 and 2003, people were insulted if they didn't all massively kept forwarding messages about the 9/11 events. When I say "insulted", I don't mean 'Oh, you heartless plonker!', I mean 'If you don't forward this remembrance message, you're just a filthy cunt who should be handed over to the animals who murdered our brothers!!!! You pathetic twat! Forward it now, I say!'. It was that level of civility.

In 2004? There were just a few messages to remember September 11th, and the tone was much more civil; the two prior years you were really made to feel as bad as the culprits if you didn't comply and did as you were told (and don't get me started on that one because, even today, anyone daring to question what really happened is ridiculed and silenced - well, sorry, but let's make a comparison and have a look at the declassified archives about Pearl Harbor; first, make up your mind, and then see how people daring to ask questions about that attack are still being treated. Next, remember that politicos are professional manipulators with means none of us have).

What did I catch today on the portion of net that I browsed? One newspaper article. One! And seven tweets (three from US citizens).

Of course, it hurts to remember, and scars do heal (otherwise we'd all be depressed all the time), but since I haven't forgotten the rabid reactions of '02 and '03 (the fake example I gave is nothing compared with the actual posts that were sent back then), this adds to my sadness.

So, this slow healing somehow makes me sad, and I'm also sad because I remember how I learnt about it. I was on the phone with my mother, who'd called to warn me about the first tower, when the second one was hit.

I was on the other side of the world and I started crying for fellow humans who were hurt, because they're all sisters and brothers. Sometimes, I still get misty-eyed.

The one story I want to keep with me is the one of the elderly couple who got separated during the chaos, but who was reunited a few days later; they're (strangely perhaps) my symbol of hope when I think about this particular tragedy.

Do I wish that more people remembered more? Yes and no. We'd get less History repeating itself within just a generation if more people did remember, saw the warning signs and acted - but that's tough, and I understand the wish to preserve oneself. I understand that forgetfulness can be bliss in some cases, and we all react differently to loss and tragedies.

Bottom line: it's hard to be a human.

P.S.: that skyline is forever in my heart ->

Musical Plot Bunny

In that other literary life that's behind me now, my first big, serious plot bunny was full of music. It's completely mad, because it was a Frasier OST that inspired me to write my first big fanfic (the plot bunny was hugging in his paws several songs that were, I still remember very clearly how it all started, the spark that encouraged me to start writing again).

I grew up with music, and I love music.

A few hours ago, something odd happened as I listened to a piece of music that I've always had in my life (and now, I've got the MP3 on my tiny player). Suddenly, I saw a dancing couple, back when the musical piece was created.

I don't know who they are - yet.

I don't know their story/stories/adventures/whatever, but I've got a baby bunny on my lap, and over the next weeks (months?), he's going to take shape and tell me his tale.

Here's the bunny soundtrack:

Badvert Aplenty (International Edition)

Of course, I'm not in the business of making commercials or creating advertisements.

Nope. I'm not.

But... I'm the one in charge of shopping, and I'm the one in charge of the house and all the choices made for the house, and when I see stuff like this, well... I may overanalyse, but I gag:

Two companies, three commercials ->

First, a bank that wants to promote its international service for students:

Well, sorry, but what I see is a bloke stupid enough to go to the other side of the world without bothering to learn the few words that he's going to need in his everyday life (yea, I know, there are people like that, but non-preparation shouldn't be encouraged).
Then, there's the employee: she doesn't speak English, and when an obviously lost foreign student types the wrong words in his phone through a faulty translation programme, the one thing she thinks of is 'Oh, my God! Bank robbery!'.
On the YouTube page, it seems that the commenters find:
a - the bloke cute (I don't care one bit)
b - the commercial very funny

In my book, this is badvert because the student is made to look like a perfect idiot and the Chinese employee is shown as racist and stupid, which in turn, is deeply sexist - and racist.
Basically, hello cliché!

Then, a series of commercials from a company that sells sanitary protection.
With those, I give you two alleged boyfriends who are praising their girlfriends:
Bloke #1:

So, he likes his nutty girlfriend even though she's got a massive collection of bats in the attic. Awww! *gags*

Bloke #2:

I don't know if he could be more patronizing: 'She's my girlfriend - but I don't mean that I own her.'. Of course not, plonker! She's not your slave. *gags again*

What profoundly bugs me is that people were paid (paid!!!) to make this crap.
If either bloke were my boyfriend, I'd punch him and dump him in five seconds.

So, okay, we're spared the blue liquid that shows how efficient a sanitary thingy is supposed to be - because women bleed blue curaçao once a month, but that kind of sexist stupidity would make me dump a brand at the speed of light.
Now, we get sexist boys promoting sanitary protection. Why? Because boys are buying their girlfriends' sanitary protection? Because they're the ones shopping (yea, we've got decent, shopping blokes out there - but how many?)? Because it's too darn difficult for lil' gals to choose a sanitary protection brand, so they've got to be told by a man?
Bloody hell, I could smack someone! (Merlin be praised, the comments on those are mostly on my side, which is somewhat reassuring.)

*shakes head, growls a bit & beams out*

August Update

Hello, hello, hello, hello!

It's always tricky for me to get time to blog, but this year takes the cake.

First, I got infested by a Trojan virus in early July (if I ever catch anyone sending those, I'll maim it). The system image saved me, and even if I (momentarily) lost a paragraph of the novel I'm writing, I consider myself lucky.

However, the power button is now behaving weirdly. :(

I'm spending time with my family, which means that, as you can see, I can type and blog a lot less than usual.

Cherry on that cake, I've just spent a few days home where... a sudden heat wave and power issues have forced me to ration my time on my computer. ;_;

Yet... by night (warranted owl here), I've been working on my fantasy novel and my Sci-Fi P.I. short stories. Since I've let the bunnies simmer quietly, the plots are coming along nicely, and everything's taking shape (I even managed to create - quite by chance, which made me blink and grin like a demented Cheshire-Cat - some very nice plot-lace, where I could link my initial characters to actual places and historical facts).

A few times, I located data that fit in my stories perfectly, and since they were things I knew nothing about before I started my research, that was a very good surprise.

I'm still only writing the second chapter of my novel and the first short story, but the rest of the plots are in my head and being plotted.

I'll try to blog more, but I won't make any promise.

See ya! xxx

Three Trolls Walk into a Bar...

It's not a joke. It's just other episodes in my life and cyber-life.

And since so many people have decided to follow #TwitterSilence today, I think it's a good day to talk about trolls, who are everywhere - and who are usually gutless.
I was tempted to do a bit of silence, as well, but:
a- I'm too angry for that
b- my Mediterranean side won't allow it
c- Twitter probably doesn't care much
d- the trolls may well be having a ball (and I shall try to spoil their fun)

As indicated in the title, I have three trolls (three and a half) to denounce.

In real life, I've got to work with a yappy little runt (it's a biped, but it's a bully).
I shall call that biped "it", because I can, and it's a bugging biped.
It's utterly sexist and when I asked it to not treat me as its maid, it retaliated by doing a tiny little something that was supposed to prevent me from working in normal conditions.
What happened when I suggested to contact the trade unions? I was told to forget about the incident, as it's not important and would do no good.
NEVER.
AGAIN.
I know I'll have to work with it again in the coming months, and if it keeps treating me like its maid, I'll complain officially - after confronting it for being a sexist troll.
I bet it won't have the guts to deny anything because that biped has enough courage to try to do things to bug me if I'm not present, but to my face... no courage whatsoever (like so many trolls and bullies: you confront them, they cave).

The Internet is trolls' playground because they can hide easily and avoid "facing" their victims.
Once, on a forum, I had to deal with someone who, on purpose, uses a kind of broken/pirate language to make itself look cute (and some people fall for that).
It once told me something that was so cryptic that I confronted it, and it instantly back-pedalled. It tried to pretend that I'd misread its words; I conceded that it was possible, but I pointed out that if it were using simple standard language, such things wouldn't happen. I was then subjected to the standard bully technique: it attacked, saying that it couldn't use normal language (which is a bloody lie, but I'm apparently supposed to have the memory of a goldfish and not remember the times when it used fairly normal words and sentence structures). I was turned into the bad guy, and - boy! - did it insist on the fact that I was uncaring, nasty, and basically an angry bitch.
I had to justify myself whilst it was the one who'd started it.
The chat ended up neutrally, but I bet it's proud to have managed to appear as the victim on that forum, but I'm keeping an eye on that bully because it's bound to try again. The next time it tries to play the "look at me playing the victim so that no one is going to dare to say anything negative for fear of being called a 'bully' instead of me" card, I'll go for the jugular.

Bullying trolls have a field day on forums, because we can type a lot. Things are different on Twitter.
I love Twitter. I makes the world smaller, and we can talk to our heroes and thank them or just say 'Hello!'.
And there are weird bunnies there, as well.
I've had the occasional porn tweet, spam tweet, barmy tweet on Twitter, but last month and yesterday, odd and slightly interesting things happened.
I had to deal with one Troll-Light - or two.
Case #1:
Last month, I retweeted an article about the Zimmerman case - specifically about the fact that he's going to get his gun back.
Now, two things, I'm European and live in Europe for the moment. Where I'm parked, only the coppers have guns (and the occasional thugs, but I've never seen one). That's our life here, and everyday citizens do not need guns to feel safe. And then, I do understand History, and I know that the Supreme Court of the United States of America decided to change the meaning of the Second Amendment in order to have it mean what the Average Joes and Janes thought it meant (because it was too darn difficult to put that into some historical perspective).
When I said, using sarcasm, "Of course!" to his being given his gun back, I got a tweet from a complete stranger who agreed with me, sans sarcasm(!), and who pointed out that the kid hadn't been properly educated by his parents.
Seriously? He was blaming the dead teen  - and his parents! I was fuming.
I composed several scathing tweets, but I didn't send those. I took a deep breath (or twelve), and I decided to keep being sarcastic, and so, I told that man that I didn't think that Zimmerman qualified as a "kid", and I hinted - okay, plainly stated - that he'd probably missed my sarcastic tone.
I didn't back down. There's no other way to say it, but I stood my ground on my Twitter.
Now, after deleting his account for a few days, that man is back (I just checked), but his tweets to me have been deleted (because he realized I was sarcastically making fun of him?). Never mind, I archived them.
I think he's a silly Troll-Light because he backed off quickly and didn't even try to call me names for being diametrically opposed to him and his beliefs.
Case #2:
Each time I catch an article about Comfort Women and their fight to get justice from Japan, I tweet it.
I love Japan, and most Japanese people.
Japanese politicos... that's another story: between the ones who slaughter whales and dolphins because that official sub-office of a Ministry is a niche for retired civil servants who don't want to stay home, the ones who praise Nazism, the ones who want to have an army again, and the ones who deny that women (Asians and Europeans) were forced to become sex slaves for the Imperial army... I growl a lot.
A Californian city has recently unveiled a statue to remember these women and girls who were enslaved. Japanese politicos protested.
In one tweet, I praised the city and said 'Shame on you' to the politico who protested and asked the city to not unveil the statue because he thinks that these women were volunteers. Yea... right. I'm the Empress of Mars, and I've got a bridge to sell you...
I got two tweets from another complete stranger - to YouTube videos that say that these women were volunteers.
I called that bloke a denialist.
Next... I honestly didn't know at the time if there was a language barrier (he's Japanese) or if he played dumb to wind me up. I spent a few minutes telling him to Google the topic (that's the teacher in me, I want people to do their research and learn and open up and upgrade their brains). I gave him tips and sent him off to the net to see the truth and avoid the lies.
No news from him... until this morning.
It turns out that he's a true denialist who tried his luck with me and who'll never change his mind because he's decided to ignore the facts. That block button is pretty useful (I told him what I thought of him before clicking, though).

What's important for me is that I always stated my truth and stood my ground (with more or less success, yes, indeed).
I also believe that, if one's not dealing with sociopaths, the Average Troll cannot stand being confronted with the truth, and if one stands up to "it", it doesn't have the guts to go on being a troll/bully.
Perhaps we should re-name the bipeds we call "trolls" on the Internet. They're just cyber-bullies of various shades.

Of course, our cyber-bullies are hiding behind keyboards and false names, but they've got mates who can tell the bullies' mums what their children are doing - and we've got coppers who can trace the nastiest cyber-bullies who think they can threaten people into silence.

As I've said before, my own mama is afraid when I speak my mind on the net, but I shan't be silenced. Ever.
I may cry and feel blue, but I shall keep on fighting.
Because I've got a voice.
Because I'm ready to fight.
Because I've got the right to speak my mind.
Because no one has the right to silence me.
Because I'm no one's property.
Because I'm not a slave.
Because I've got as many rights as the next biped.
Because no one died and made the bullies and cyber-bullies kings of the Earth.
Because that's not the kind of planet I want for the future generations.
Because I believe in equality for all.

Haiku Time!

Long time, no haiku.
This time, inspired by my "kitten" who plopped down (not entirely elegantly) from our lime tree the other day, I give you:

木        毛        黒

か        虫        猫

ら       の        が,

散        よ      

る        う      

            な,           

The black cat,
Like a caterpillar,
Dropping from a tree

©Drusilla de Lanor [July, 22^nd, 2013]