A day in the life of an average achiever vol. 1

Inside and out.

The average achiever wakes up at 8. It's a very new thing. She took a German course that starts every day at 9am because she can't force herself to do it on her own (both learning German and waking up). For an average achiever that is the most difficult thing to do. And here she pays. Quite a bit so she might as well go. Like a random guy on the street the other day told her friend that he will teach her how to play a mouth harp but he will charge her because that's how she will learn. When she is paying. Makes sense. She said she can't do it now cause she has pain in her diaphragm from too much blowing. Makes sense too.

The average achiever also likes mornings. It's the most wonderful part of the day. But mornings don't seem to like her much and are avoiding her most of her life. Unless she surprises them by stumbling out of a bar during one. But she loves mornings, especially if it's sunny. Which by some strange perverted mood swing of Mother Nature (or maybe because the Germans put their hands on HAARP as she has been informed on the streets of Berlin recently) was happenning for the last months and months. Not a thing you would expect here. Even if it wasn't though, the average achiever's mum bought her a super warm jacket and super hot shoes so it's not a problem. Yes, the average achiever still gets clothes from her mum because 1. she hates shopping 2. her mum loves shopping 3. her mum would buy her a package of "period pants" and some "clothes for grown up woman" instead 4. because she is an average achiever which equals to an average earner and super warm jackets and super hot shoes are expensive 5. she would rather be cold and spend that money on travelling. Or partying. Cause that's what average achievers love.

 Anyway, recently she does get up and she manages to get out. She looks herself in the mirror, realises she looks like shit. Because that's how average achievers look like in the morning, especially when they have hair which has a life on its own and tendency for eye bags. But it doesn't matter because she goes to a language course and nothing ever happens on a language course. Or over a salad, she has been told.

People are going to work. Most of them seem to hate that fact. Most of her hates that fact as well. They say you should do what you love. How many people in this world actually do what they love? She doesn't know many, maybe a few. And these few she hid from her facebook newsfeed. Because they annoy her with doing what they love. It's like those people that somehow seem to have 50 hours in one day and manage to do ten different things and they are really really good in those ten different things they do. And have very interesting hobbies. And they are really good in their hobbies. And they speak seven languages. And they look good. And they eat healthy. And drink a lot of water. And their friends are super interesting. And they have seen places. And did stuff. And helped people. And are politically correct. And travel by bikes. And react to bad things peacefully. And react to bad people in the best manner. And have no accent in any of the languages they speak And are in perfect normal loving relationships. And probably have multiple orgasms every day. And sometimes they pour ice buckets over themselves.

It's not the kind of people you should have on your newsfeed.

But luckily, they are a minority. Most of the others hate what they do. But even if there was a chance for an average achiever to do what she loves, she would probably say: "Sure, WOW, that's amazing!", post it on facebook "I just got the best job offer - to do what I love" and then never call the guys back because she doesn't know what that actually is. Or somebody would call her for a beer in the meantime, she would get drunk and forget about it. Or she would take a job in a bar instead. But it would be a great story over a beer for the next few weeks. And the story would end up with a question So why exactly did you take a job in the bar instead? Mmm, I forgot. Probably it was too much pressure. But anyway what would you think about if you did what you love? What do people dream about when there is nothing left to dream about? So for an average achiever that's enough. The average achiever settles for a job that provides the basic wage with as less hours as possible so she can think the rest of the day about dream jobs and places; a tiny chance to save something for travelling and working for people that are actually nice. Because the average achiever met a lot of bad people. But sometimes, only sometimes they are really really nice human people. And that's what makes her happy. And it is enough. Averagely enough.

The average achiever loves language courses because of grammar. She has no idea how to speak and lacks three months of vocabulary because they decided to put her to the fourth month (because she is good in grammar). They didn't realise that she doesn't have any vocabulary and grammar for her is like solving puzzles. It might as well be any language. Therefore, most of the time she is silent. The surplus in "grammar learning skills" definitely took its toll in "speaking foreign languages" (and coordination in space for that matters).

Sie wollen das Leben positiver sehen? 

But it doesn't really matter because nothing ever happens in language courses. A lot of small talk. Everybody being nice and respectful to everybody. Occasionally singing happy birthday in German for an embarrassed birthday boy / girl and a lot of stories about what they ate / did yesterday. Mostly they are all very young and came to Berlin to study. Nobody seems to be strange, weird, passionate, quirky, insane or a psychopath. So not her type of people. She put them immediately in the "Normal box" (which is naturally beige), hanged a sign "Interaction only when forced by basic manners" and never gave them a chance. Once she laughed cause a Russian girl was explaining where she found her Italian boyfriend and she said Zu Hause. And when teacher asked how did they hook up since she just speaks Russian, she said I gave him Vodka. Brilliant. The average achiever then switched off till the end of the class thinking about a situation where women find little men in their cupboards or on top shelves and give them vodka and they grow and become their boyfriends. It is not a thought you would share on your language course even if you knew how the hell to say it in German. Once a guy that she met asked her about the strangest job she had and she described volunteering on The Great Wall Of Vagina. The next day he wrote it in an essay "A strange job of my friend" for his German course. Everybody was blushing. The teacher was embarrassed. The average achiever immediately liked the guy.

During the break, she goes out to smoke and drink coffee. Naturally. She is Croatian and that is what Croatians do. And preferably not to talk to anybody. It's morning, it is not a good time to converse. So she is doing very important stuff on her phone and is thinking will she ever learn this language and was it a good idea to move here. Should have learnt Spanish, Spanish is easy. And live on Cuba. But people are small in Spanish speaking countries. Which means men are small in Spanish speaking countries. Which means "Everything falls into the water." Together with "The granny with the cakes already passed by." So she better stick to Berlin. And it is fun here, and funny. Today just by being awake for ten minutes, she saw 3 funny things - a granny in a disco jacket with Shiva print on it swearing in Croatian at her old man that was helping her to walk, a packet of eggs with a blond girl in a black bra and white shirt holding a chicken and a leaflet in a supermarket for meditation with Amma, the hugging mother that is happening tonight in Berlin. In Croatia you can be awake for years and not see anything funny. So Berlin it is. Besides, this is a country where men sit while they pee. And that is a funny enough reason to live here.

Germans and chickens

It is noon. The course finished and it is breakfast time. Noon is always the breakfast time - the average achiever either 1. wakes up at that time if there is nothing else to do 2. comes home after the course to eat since her original morning breakfast consists solely of coffee and cigarettes. If she got drunk the night before liters of water as an extra. Sometimes she feels her life is just a series of Turkish breakfasts at noon, and if she is lucky it's the salmon day. It usually lasts minimum an hour. And then coffee and cigarettes as a dessert. The plans are being made, what is obligatory to do today, what can be postponed for tomorrow and are there any other options. Like snail races. Or fetish street festivals. Or sunny day in a park. Or weird hipster exhibitions. Or dates. But that one is tricky. 1. Is it possible to go on a date today? 2. If yes, is it a new person and would it require a lot of small talk? 3. If yes, will she be in the mood for small talk? 4. If no, does the guy look interesting enough to go through the small talk? Usually the idea is ditched unless it is that time of the month when the hormones are playing their mind fuck game and the body needs to know that there is a possibility on focusing that overload of energy towards something male. But just a possibility is enough. Nobody is actually going to do anything. It will be postponed for later. Like average achievers do.

Or not.

But this one is a busy one. Not with dates though. The average achiever runs to prepare some flats for guests. Funny thing, those jobs. No matter how low skilled the job is, there is always so much to learn. The lower the job, the more you learn of human nature. Want to know more about people or the world we live in? Get a job as a cleaner, or in a factory or in a bar. Cleaning is great for it (so great is the cleaning). Now the average achiever knows that there are some people out there that glue the sheets to the mattress with superglue on all four corners and that some leave a bag of weed for the cleaner, that there are some strange looking sex toys out there and that some throw food on the floor while they eat and later walk on it.

(hopefully not in my apartment)

While working in the bar, she can observe people, she can see how people behave when they like somebody, how people respond to being liked, how people gradually get drunk and she can listen to nonsense they are saying. She can also learn a lot about herself from all of those, usually cringing about something somebody has said (fremdschaemen) and realising - Yeap, done that. and make little mental notes along Try not to be that person the next time you are 1. drunk 2. like somebody 3. are being liked. Although you'll probably fail (exactly because you are 1. drunk 2. like somebody 3. are being liked). When you are working in a bar, it is not the same as when you are sober in a bar. When you are sober in a bar, you are still part of it and you probably hate every single person in the room with their zombie behaviour (talking of which, try to wake up early and go to a metro on Sunday around 5am, now that is an experience). But if you work in a bar, you are The Observer, the kind of Observer that makes it all exist by observing. And giving them the drinks of course. Nothing would ever be noticed if you were not there. Sometimes she is imagining she is actually at home and watching a movie of a bar or even better playing a video game - you have to take and serve as many orders. The only difference is that she should be charming, in German. Which she thinks should be also implemented in the video game.

Apart from this, she realised she actually likes everything about working in a bar. Or maybe working in this particular bar. And there is definitely such a special pleasure about throwing bottles into the bin (for glass, of course) and crashing the glass along the way. The noise is so disturbing and loud that it makes it somehow pleasant. And friends told her she looks as if she is in her own environment when standing behind the bar. Something like caged animals that are put back into the wilderness they actually belong to. And she decided to go along with that. Because that's what average achievers do.

caged animals support society. everybody gets a colorful necklace.

Many times the average achiever's father told her "You are such a smart girl and you are so good in so many things but you just don't want to get up in the morning. That's your problem."

True story. Together with Not wanting to step into the wet with her socks. That's even worse.

my father's thoughts

To be continued...Or not. You never know.

P.S. Now that I've said it, something will probably happen on the language course. And probably something that will change the course of history. As it usually does.

P.P.S. Update: It's not that nothing has happened on the language course. The language course itself didn't happen. Due to an average average achiever's unfortunate set of events aka "Let's go for a beer."

the average achiever in the morning

Dear Man In The Sky

Hello!

Remember me? I hope so far it hasn't been too disturbing for your eyes...or whatever you see with. I know it's been a while that we've talked but I do say your name a lot and my jokes about you are making people me laugh so don't think I forgot you completely. But please next time that I say you don't exist, don't take it that personally. My office walls covered in dripping shit from a flooded toilet above was not cool. Anyhow, they have told me that first I have to show my gratitude and thank you for everything you brought to my life and then ask things from you.

Thank you for inventing sun, water, earth, photosynthesis, barley, fermentation and humans (and all the rest in the process of making beer). It gives me more happiness on happy days, comfort on sad days and it is a great conversation starter. And you know how much I like to converse. Also, it helps me get men.

Thank you for all the men in my life, the ones that loved me and the ones that didn't cause they all taught me a valuable lesson. I hope you understand this was sarcastic, you are an asshole and I hope you burn in hell for all the ones that didn't love me. The fact that you are unloved or ignored lately is not the reason to take it all on me. You know I don't like when people don't love me, even when I don't love them cause then I think I do love them and it all goes 50 shades of stupid. But yes, thank you for the good ones. And women. They all right.

Thank you for me not being a thirsty African child. Thank you also for not being one of those people pouring ice buckets over themselves.

Thank you that Aslan masturbates two times a day. It makes me happy that my female sterilised dog is having so much self gratification, a healthy sexual life that she is not supposed to have and fulfilling her needs that she is not supposed feel. Not being aware of doctors cutting all her reproductive system out, Aslan enjoys by the power of mere ignorance.

Thank you for finding that stuffed sex toy donkey with a big rubber vagina the other day in the hostel. It really made my week and became one of the top stories I can entertain people with for the next couple of weeks. Thank you for mobile technology so I can show people the picture and they can't think I am lying. Maybe I won't even have to make any facebook events for a while that would make me feel good about myself for entertaining people. Maybe I'm not even sorry for touching that vagina.

(I am not going to post the pic of the vagina cause I want to show you in person. The picture I mean.)
.
.
.
Ok, I can't hold it any longer. Here:

 


I think that is enough. Now, let's start with the wishes.

1. Please don't make me wake up ever again at 5am to go to work. But don't make me die or something.
This was one of the worst experiences of my life (aaw, bless me), especially during the weekend when I was the only sober person on the street and metro and everybody was so scary and ugly and stupid. Even more terrifying was the revelation that I am one of those people on some other day. (How again I get men with beer? Ah yes, they are too scary, ugly and stupid to notice that I am scary, ugly and stupid. And I just notice that they are tall. That's right.)

2. Please don't make me work for bad people any more.
And can you please punish them somehow, like if they believe in reincarnation can you make them a worker in Bangladesh the next time? And also, can you give them a very bad case of irritable bowel syndrome, like now till the rest of their lives?

3. Since I am unemployed now, can you give me some more jobs? Preferably something dynamic, physical, not much work, good money, that doesn't involve bodily fluids exchange? Thanks.

4. Can you make Sundays disappear? I can have two Mondays, or even better two Fridays. They say this is our heaven and this is our hell. Can I just have the heaven part? They also say that people can't be happy if they are only happy. Or whatever. Something like that, probably more elaborate. I think I would be really happy if I was just happy. So no Sundays. Switch the mass to Saturday. Or Friday even better. So all of them can together pray happily ever after.

5. I would really like more hair. On my head that is. But not on the face, that's quite enough. And could you make it grow blond so I don't have to go to hairdressers that dye me yellow. I hate yellow hair. Almost as much as Sundays. But don't make me go to chemotherapy (I read it can change your hair structure. Well, if you survive, actually, even if you don't) just do some magic. I heard you were good in it, at least before Jesus took over.

6. Can the world smell like basilicum on Mondays, pine trees on Tuesdays, orchids on Wednesdays, freshly cut grass without freshly cut grass on Thursdays, sea breeze on Fridays and bacon without dead pigs on Saturdays? Sundays we don't have any more, right...And can you eradicate bad morning breath, sweat (but keep the pheromones), urine & feces, cleaning products, mold and cigarette smoke smells (but keep the cigarettes). Oh, and poverty in the world. (in general, not the smell)

7.  You know how I asked you when I was 4 that I have a family with two kids when I am 25 and that Jesus talks to me? Well done for not taking me seriously on both of those. Talking to Jesus would just be too creepy. And just in case you might reevaluate the family wish, don't do it by 35 either. I will think about it again then and keep you posted. But do give me a lot of love. Love is great and stuff.

8. Can you make all the people that surround me really happy, fulfilled and satisfied? Especially the nice ones and the ones that I see very often cause I can't listen to any more bad stories, it stresses me out and then I get pimples and then people don't take me seriously. And men don't like me. Unless Beer.

9. Can I visit at least 100 countries before I die without being a stewardess? Talking of which can I join the mile high club but on a helicopter or a balloon or some other device that might be invented in the future (use your imagination). And no rapes, it's not funny.

10. Konnen Sie mir Deutsch lernen?

So that would be it, since there is 10 wishes and 5 Thanks, let me list a few more, thank you also for fluffy animals, Turkish breakfast, Internet, hammocks and above all THANK YOU FOR THIS GUY

Cheers,

Your Visionary

Tales of a Gastarbajter

3...2...1...GASTARBAJTER!

Yaaay.

So what is a Gastarbajter? A Gastarbajter is a guest worker or a migrant worker in Germany, an "American dream" in Croatian version and a reason why Turks are 5% of German population (officially???) You see, migrant workers are supposed to leave when they finish their work but it seems that they kind of stick along for a long time or never actually migrate back. And what else is a Gastarbajter? Me.

I heard the word Gastarbajter many times ever since I was a kid in conversations of vast significance like: "Did you see his new Mercedes, nobody in the village or further beyond has one of those! Of course, he is a Gastarbajter!" or "Did you hear that Miroslav left Milenka and has a baby in Gemany? Of course, he is a Gastarbajter, they all do!" or do you know who builds churches in Croatia (except every fucking Croatian citizen)? - Gastarbajters! There was also a very strange situation when my friend googled red spots on his hand and Google said - AIDS! and he called me saying: "I think I might have AIDS, I bet it could be from Sanja, she was a Gastarbajter!" But apart from that, yes, it's an "American dream", except it's German. Actually Croatian. This doesn't make sense.

Gastarbajter Level: Spite

So I moved to Berlin. Without any money as I usually do. It seems that being an idiot is my legacy. I am just not sure from where. But every time I made a completely irrational decision (was there any rational ones?), it was also a lot of fun and I don't really regret any of them (OK, maybe some, along the notes - "The problem with last night is that it turns into this morning."). Albeit not the big ones. (Ha!) Quite quickly I found a job (and now I see why) as a Gastarbajter, following tradition of many many Croatian women since the 60s - in a hotel (we were never big on prostitution, it's more of a further east kind of thing). To be even better, since I don't speak German (except scheisse, I am good in scheisse) I work on breakfast and cleaning. And even better, I have a uniform! Yes, I have a uniform. A sexy purple apron for cleaning and casual black buttoned shirt for breakfast. And a bucket on which it writes Marijana. It makes me laugh every morning. And I must tell you, this getting rich with gastarbajter-ism is a matter of past. This will not be paying my bills much, which are astronomical since Gastarbajters like to have a lot of fun while they are gastarbajting in an open-minded foreign country where there is so many new things to do, many great people to meet and many tall men to see out of the house. And it is all super-legal not in human rights terms but in terms of documentation. When I said to my family that I am registered on German health insurance and social security and pension and whatnot (which actually means I am paying all this crap and waking up every morning at 6 thinking I miss the days when I was illegal) they were as excited as if I told them that I am earning millions. But my parents got used to this and just said Don't worry honey, you just started, you'll find something better and in the meantime go to visit all the doctors you can since it's free. So let me tell you about my first working days. So much of Ha! How funny is that! Then again, I can always find something funny. It's my superpower, making myself laugh. And I strongly believe that every single work experience is a good experience and it teaches you a lot. So what thoughts did I have so far?

1. "Cleaning" is a very relative term. And here we are talking about German clean. The first thing I noticed is that all the cleaning girls have super toned bodies and arm muscles you can usually see only on men. I thought maybe they are all doing sports. Until I started working. This is, my friends, full on physical exercise. It's not cleaning, it is exercise. There is about 3 hours from check-out to check-in where every little and I really mean every little thing has to be cleaned. Like moving around lockers that must weigh...I don't know how much they must weigh but I was pushing them today with my whole body for a while only to get them to move about a centimetre. And then again. And again. Until you move them enough to wipe the floor and surface behind. Or scrubbing with a little brush in between the tiles (I was singing "You're in the army now, ouou in the army" in my head while doing it which also reminds me of some happier times involving a soldier and a train). But anyway, all of the tiles, in all of the bathrooms. Minimum 10 of them per cleaner per day. And you have to be fast, like superman...superwoman fast. To be able to do that, everybody wears sports clothes and doesn't use gloves cause it would slow them down. The only girl that speaks English told me today that she lost 7kg in 5 weeks there. And also showed me her muscles. They were inspiring. 

Fuck off.

2. I am going to be super toned and I like it. So today I did physical exercise for 9.5h. 9.5 hours without sitting once. Ladies and gentlemen, give me a month more (if I don't get fired in the meantime) and I will be super muscley hot (random fact from Urban dictionary: "Muscley. Used by idiots who don't know the word "muscular". I've been pumpin my guns for ten weeks now, im so MUSCLEY!"). Like the other gastarbajter girls there. Except they are German. And a Romanian. And one doesn't speak so I don't know what is she.

One day I will look like a titless Brigitte Nielsen. 

3. I love exercise. If there is a goal to it. Like hiking. I hate gyms and aerobic and all that. I would rather do cleaning than go to a gym. Anytime. One friend every time she comes home from jogging says: "The sun is shining out of my ass!" I have always resented people that feel that way, it was always torture both for my body and my mind (what do people think about when they exercise?) but now I feel Wow, this actually feels great! And I can't even explain to you how much pain I am in right now, muscle pain, back pain and plenty of bruises. The fact I woke up at 5 and I have to tomorrow again doesn't help.

4. I already lost weight. I have the same weight as I did when I was 15. My Dad didn't take it as happily as I did though. Dad: You lost 10kg! Are you sick? Are you broke? Do you have some kind of mental issues? You never looked this bad! Me: Everybody tells me I look better now. Dad: They're lying. Me: It's my friends! Dad: Friends lie too! (My friend commented on this: He's right. You are broke and you do have mental issues.) Mum, on the other hand, is glad. My whole life my Mum was telling me I should lose weight and my Dad I should gain weight, usually at the same time and completely ignoring what the other one says.

No problem when you don't have any in the first place.

  

5. I understand German. All my cleaning and breakfast colleagues don't speak English so all the instructions I get are in German. Which I don't speak but I kind of do because I understood let's say 90% of it. And 10% usually goes very wrong. And it's fun. My favourite is when the butchy mohawk haired headcleaner yells from the end of the hallway MARIJAAAANAAA! And when I run there, she points at something that I don't even see and yells: FLEKEN! PUTZEN, PUTZEN, PUTZEN! SCHNELLER!

6. I get to wear a uniform. So the whole day I can pretend I am on a very elaborate costume party. 

Sure.

7. I am like Tom Hanks in Castaway. Except I have a bucket and it's called Marijana. And I am going to start talking to it, just for fun. And one day when I grow to the size of other girls, maybe I get a Marijana, my personal trolley.

Like in this video:
Marijanaaaaaaaaaaaa! 

8. One day I will be able to start training S Factor. I have a friend that was always bad in sports and hated it until she had to go to an army training to be an army dentist later on. And she absolutely loved it and now does sports for hours every day. Including S-Factor. Which is damn hard. I tried. No single way. For all of you uninformed it's striptease and pole dancing without actual stripping but with pole dancing. It's very big in Croatia (not surprised, are you? Once I asked a German guy that I was with at that time, what would his mother say if she knew I was Croatian. He said: Use a condom.) Anyway, so maybe I start to love exercise so much that one day I can be a pole dancer. Although I think I am too big for that. Like I was too fat to be a ballerina according to my Mum. Well, anyway, we have to dream big.

9. I have to wake up at five. Four to five days a week. Which means I will go out less. Which means I will drink less. Which means I will do less stupid things...No, it doesn't. Since I am still going out as I usually do (but not Istanbul kind of usually) the other day I even managed to pass out for the first time in my life. A proper "what the hell happened" pass out. Luckily, I passed out right on my bed and woke up 10h later just in time for work. Convenient.

Blow my puff and make a wish. 

(dandelions) 

10. I am so going to get fired soon. Since I don't know yet little tricks how to do things faster, I am slower than others. But I am really really fast and doing my best. Honestly. But everybody is still faster so I try to cheat. But they really seem to catch me every time. And then I play the immigrant card. But there must be tricks. So I have to make friends, make them all love me and find out the tricks. Which is a bit tricky since I don't speak the language. It's hard to manipulate people when you don't speak the language. And the other problem - they are German and I don't know how to make Germans love me. Yet. So I will start tomorrow with the cheapest Croatian trick possible - mito i korupcija aka chocolate. A box of finest Croatian chocolate should melt even German hearts. I will keep you posted.

Oh Husnu, the creator of Kooperatif

I found this text one day in my flat and remembered I wrote it once when I was, let's say - a little bit tipsy:

Kooperatif bar was a small bar on a narrow, snaky street on the European side of Istanbul. It was the only bar in Istanbul where you wasted no energy on rational conversation and tipped the waiters to be treated badly. How and why it came to existence, nobody knew for sure - a lack of knowledge magnified by the fact that there was nobody literally nobody and nothing inside this place that a rational observer would describe as "sense".

 

The real reason why the bar existed, against all odds, was because this spot in space was nothing but a figment of a certain cat's flawed imagination. The bar was a fictive place with fictive people as the regulars. Sometime ago Husnu, the notorious street cat, as a part of his new project "Get yourself a home", started thinking about this place, thus breathing life and chaos into it but before long he had gotten distracted by far more important projects - street fights, eye-catching felines and the new kebab place on the corner. Amid these hectic times he had eventually forgotten this dingy hole in Istanbul, the existance of which he was solely responsible for.

As a seed planted to the ground Kooperatif developed a life of its own and under the weight of musical events attracted strangers of dubious existance. Husnu, on the other hand, found it very convenient after a set of unfortunate events that included loss of testicals, to stumble upon his very own creation that fortunately included water, food and occasional shamans.

Ever since then, the customers and waiters in Kooperatif bar, a small bar on a narrow snaky street on the European side of Istanbul, had been struggling with a sense of nonsense, digging away at disconsolate future scenarios, grimacing over teacup plates served as ashtrays, waiting for a purpose in some highbrow drama wherein they would play the leading role.

Still, every now and then, someone new to the place or in need of drawing attention would come forward with another theory and for the ephemeral lull the other customers would believe him, toying with the new theory, until they got bored and sunk back to their marches of relative existance.
Among all the theories on the genesis of this bar, this explanation was the most plausible.

Happy birthday Husnu!

Disclaimer:
It was based on some other text but I forgot which one. But it could be something from Elif Safak.

Running down the dream

Only those who attempt the absurd will achieve the impossible. I think it’s in my basement, let me go upstairs and check.

I was walking down the street and I saw It. Stephen King's It, not a guy wearing a clown costume but the very It. So I yelled: "Hey, man, how are you? Haven't seen you since we worked together! I am going to the Folk the floods concert for Croatia, Bosnia and Serbia tonight, why don't you come along?" It responded: "No, people will stare at me, I am a clown." Me: "Nooooo, this is Berlin, you can be whatever you want to be, nobody gives a shit!" It: "OK, maybe you're right, see you tonight!" And It left and I was thinking: "Wow, he is quite tall, I wonder how he looks like under the mask..."

Unfortunately, It never came to the concert and I didn't have a chance to check It under the mask. When I explained the dream to my friend, she said I should never use drugs. And maybe should go to a psychiatrist. I remember my dreams almost every day and most of them are insane. I don't need to go to a psychiatrist though. A random fact - if you ever wanted to google your crazy dreams to check if there is maybe something wrong with you, don't. In the end of the session, you will have cancer or brain tumour. The same goes for Cramp in my left arm. Or A red spot on my face. 
Anyway, apart from the brain tumour, there is nothing wrong with me. It's you. It's not "It's not you, it's me." It's "It's you, it's not me." You just can't remember. As I cannot remember things that happen in reality. But I have Aleksandra (a non-drunk that parties like one) and Lana (a drunk that remembers like non-one). And you don't get anyone in your dreams. Ha-ha! 

So here is a (not so) short list of popular themes, almost but not particularly in that order of preference but No. 1 is definitely No.1. 


10. Body and Mind

I have a few separate entities that drive my dreams and they are all on drugs. There is Body and there is Mind. Body usually appears as a voice telling me to eat fruit, or drink water, or eat spinach, or "Marijana, you have malaria!" (and I wake up with 30 bites). On the other hand, Mind is a problem-solver that tends to be obsessed with my fears and puts me into situations where I am completely freaked out like walking down a broken rope bridge thousands of meters up in the air or jumping of a cliff or doing a speech in front of hundreds of people or touching a spider. And while it is happening, it is telling me to calm down and that everything will be fine. Fucker.

9. Conscience
And then you get Conscience. Like this week. First I dreamt that it is important to sleep as less as possible cause every moment will be shorter in time and there will be much more of them and their importance will be much greater cause they all act as pieces of an infinite puzzle in the future and the more pieces you fill in, the more...I don't know what happens but it was important to fill in the puzzle as much as possible. And then a few days later I got a better explanation. Very simple. If you sleep a lot it means that you consider your dreams better than your reality. In that case, your reality will definitely be worse than your dreams. But if you start to sleep less making your mind believe that reality is great, the reality will turn out great. And all that elaboration because I felt guilty for sleeping too much. And I wasn't even stoned.

8. Nothing but trouble

Troublesome dreams occur when I am not as happy as I usually am (duh!), just to make things extra worse so not only that I am looking for a job and not finding it in reality but I am also looking for a job and not finding it in my dreams. You can also get tear gassed by Turkish police during the day and then some more during the night, with extra police brutality sequences in the dream. Or was it in reality? :D
Trying to escape from talking walls that are trying to crush me, that was fun. Although someone explained to me in the dream that you have to treat them nicely and they will go away. Talking walls. 

If walls could talk: Xena and the blond girl clips with Celine Dion in the background. Never knew!

7. Apocalypse 
I am Brad Pitt, Bruce Willis and Will Smith, all in one. Different versions of apocalypse are reoccurring, so I punched zombies in the face many times, went to Norway to watch a timed tsunami that will make human race extinct, stole chicken legs in a supermarket after the floods that killed 90% of humanity (they would go bad soon), fought in war many times (on different sides, never Croatian) and lived in post-apocalyptic scenarios without water, electricity and sewer. Ah no, wait, that was in India.  

And this is not India. Or apocalypse. This is Brighton.

6. Travelling

Travelling and hitch hiking are the most common dreams when I am stuck in one place. So I travelled all around the world, lived in hippy communes in Italy, had babies in Brazil, lived in a tree house, went on a sailing vacation with 10 transvestites and took numerous one way tickets. And even in my dreams I have that moment "Shit, I am doing it again. Poor mum. My dad will kill me." Guilt imposed by parents runs deep down. 

5. Elaborate sex dreams

A small digression - I once read in a Yoga book that for every affair we have, we will be reborn to satisfy that person throughout a marital life. Scary, ha? I found it really funny (and disconcerting) so for a couple of weeks I was saying this to every yoga person I met (it was in India, so I must have said it hundreds of times) but nobody got particularly upset. But I guess it was a wrong kind of crowd. Worrisome as it is, add to it all the people and...stuff you had "affairs" with in your dreams. Ha! Now, that's unpleasant. So yes, sex dreams. Usually unwanted. Just imagine my dreams you have read about so far and add a pinch of sex in it. Very disturbing is what you get. With a few exciting exceptions. A small advice: Don't google "Weird sex dreams, am I normal?" You will get pregnancy in results. And cancer, of course.

4. WTF Marijana
But the ones that I love the most are the most absurd ones, the ones that make me think - WTF. Some of them the best experience I have ever had. Like when I was time. This is written correctly, I was time. Or fighting Voldemort: I yelled all the spells properly (I actually do know them!) and nothing worked and Voldemort laughed and said: Don't you know little girl that the spells have to be in Turkish? 
Or getting a TV from a three eyed Gypsy woman where I could watch my life and future and it even had options on the remote control like The happiest moments,The saddest moments, Most important people in your life and so on...And then an Australian girl stole my TV. 

3. Lucid Dreaming

And then you get the lucid dreaming (or don't). Oh. For those who don't know, in lucid dreams you are aware that you are dreaming and YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT TO DO. Yaaay! Like the best date ever (I'm talking about flying, visiting hundreds of places and kissing on top of Himalaya that I found a bit too cold and turned it into spring time. And I also got to choose how the guy looks like). Beat that. And flying in general. Although sometimes it can get a bit inconvenient if you are in the middle of it and forget that it is a dream and you think "What is happening here, I am not supposed to fly..." and you start falling. And jump of the bed in shock. Or you dream you are a squirrel. And forget you dream and realise you have no idea how to be one. It is not easy being a squirrel. There is a lot of things that eat squirrels. And there are other squirrels. And it is all fun and games till someone gets raped. 

2. Animals
Animals are a big part of my dreams in general, I am cuddling with spiders, riding dragons, taking care of talking cats, swimming with polar bears and my dog Aslan usually takes on human characteristics like doing hostel shifts in stead of me (and I just switch of the alarm and oversleep) or following me in a shape of a midget jester. Once I dreamt that I died and came back as a cat. My mother knew it was me but my father put her into a nuthouse. So I went to my friend Darija. She loves animals so she would take me. One day I saw that the computer was on and Word was open. So I started typing with my paw and managed to write Marijana Mustra. And I wrote some more. And I started answering her questions. And long story short, everybody knew it was me, my mum was out of the hospital and would visit me from time to time (it was still a bit hard for her for obvious reasons), everybody was bringing me cat food and I was on TV. And I didn't have to be raped by other cats. It wasn't so bad after all.

1. God
And if you ever wondered what God thinks, imagine a vast green field and a cliff among the clouds and you are watching the whole world down. And now imagine God is sitting next to you:

God: World is a cruel place. 
Me: Why do you think so? 
God: Cause David Bowie never got an Oscar.

And for the end, a small piece of advice: Do google "I am talking to God, am I normal?"

Cause you'll get THIS.

And cancer, of course.


Sweet dreams, good night and don't let the bed bugs bite.
Or penises for that matter.