I always wanted to know how this feels.. putting the deepest things out of my soul.. open to anyone to read. A famous Hungarian writer once wrote (what would you expect of a writer anyway.. so as overwhelmingly simply as possible he wrote) "I cant tell anyone so I tell everyone". The old fella would have loved blogs.. i am sure.

So what is all this about? Should I tell about myself? Or how i see the world? Somebody told me that good art is what makes you see the world with the eyes of the author. In some cases i really feel thankful that I can actually close that eye.. Lets leave art to the artists after all, dont feel like a poet or any such. Those guys never got payed well and their personal value sky rocketed only when they already had turned into dust again. I tend to reach some satisfactory level in recognition somewhat earlier in my remaining - say - 80 years of dusting. "We are all only dust after all baby" kind of a negative approach.. but also pretty stoic. Next time I meet girl that is worth the experimenting I will try saying: "Hey, we are only the same dust after all" if I manage to confuse the subject of my experiment that shape and color are little details only, than I am on the right track. If this is possible than this blog is going to be over quickly cause I will move to the book-writing business.. what a shining future. I could be a famous writer and i could title my book in the dumbest way possible... "You and me baby nothing but dust" or "So much for the bluff about the rib"..

I am really beginning to feel tired. Its almost four o'clock in the morning and some gipsy freak pretending on the music TV that he knows how to rap.. guess the quality if he did not manage to convince me after an extended number of beers and cuba libres. Far from the topic (like if I had any) but what a stupid name is that for a drink? Has Cuba ever been free? Is it now? Why dont we name a drink "The funny german" or "The gorgeous english lady".

i am already tired of myself.. i slowly realize that noone is ever going to read this but it does not even bother me.. I guess I am trapped in this feeling of missing something... I am just so eager to create ... anything.

I slowly started telling whats up with me... a friend of mine warned me.. like I care, my friends. This is my blog I do whatever I want. I am still not sure.. maybe I should be doing this to a word doc rather.. well.. the word would be read by my sister for sure :) thats one reader more than here.. so for now this will suffice.

Good night