Like air bubbles trapped in cement,
the decisions we make in a moment haunt us for the rest of our lives.
Rules of the game
To humiliate and ditch somebody you irreversibly committed with your body and soul, just because you cannot get more paradise from him right now, and take anybody else who could please you … that’s not love. It's just indulging in the consumer infatuation of this mad society by using the unique faithful love of a human being as a resource for the production of your pleasure - replacing the "object of interest" as an old battery when needed.
"Die, bitch!" The last thought of the day is always equal to the first one in the morning. I asked Riko about the dilemma, but I'm aware that there is no answer in the (after)world that could influence the actual status:
Is it better when your love lies peacefully in a grave and you know that you will meet the one who has never left you in heaven ... or if she is still living in this world, but has definitely chosen the irreversible path of betraying the trust and love. That she is fucking around with some evil similar to her and that this hell is going to last even after the death.
What if a loving soul becomes an daemon, but resides further on in a body that made the ultimate commitment to me? What if I'm bound to this body without a soul ... and this zombie is owned and fucked by another man, instead of dying, hence leaving the eternal commitment in a natural way and not causing an life-long agony of our relationship based on unbreakable and irreversibly bound chain of commitment binding us together forever?
The laws of humans accept reverting a marriage but the laws of the universe doesn't enable to forget what we experienced or to get rid of a commitment we accepted by a promise of two souls in a single body - a promise which is acceptable only for the first and only time, a commitment which can be given only once in life and therefore is irreversible as the strongest and unique memory in humans life.
No laws can free a human acting against his commitment, the role of conscience is to keep us united with what we decided to become as long as we are alive. The decision is ours, the role of the power of universe is to force us to stay faithful to what we have chosen, imposing the full responsibility for consequences to those who decide to deceive what they already committed.
One year along I invited anybody to take part in the way of my life. But only a few were interested, mostly friends who know my stories even without this blog. And today, this public exposition has come to its end.
The secret of being a bore is to tell everything. So I won't be yet another bore who is shouting his pain into the world, as a beggar on a road exposing his handicaps. I have to learn to live with the steady perception that my fiancee decided to be a bitch and humiliate me by returning me the ring sealing what had been sealed a long time before she got it. And by the perception of what is she currently doing with a foreign man.
The anger caused by her past and recent behavior brought me down to the end of the world and will push me further up to the edge of space. The only compensation for that what she did and is still doing, are adventures crazy enough to avoid the thoughts of what she might be doing with an another man right now. Unfortunately, such adventures doesn't take more than a few hours or days, so I will be chasing the oblivion and escape from the actual humiliation up to the end of my or her life.
Daily escape from the tsunami of evil emotions she initiates in me by submitting herself to somebody else after breaking the unbreakable promise. A life-long search for an inner equilibrium between the world of faithful love where I want to live and this bitchy world where she pushed me ruthlessly and keeps me imprisoned.
I'm terribly missing my dream I never encountered, the one that would faithfully stand only by my side in all the good and bad times, never ever letting go the one she committed. I'm terribly missing my dream just because I gave my irreversible commitment to a nightmare.
A nightmare who enjoys this horror she made out of our lives, while I hope on her early bitter end, the only thing she deserves for what she was able to pursue acting as an unfaithful bitch, for what she is currently doing and will do until the death naturally stops the absurd and sick development she gave to our irreversibly bound lives. Not being aware of the rules of universe doesn't excuse those who are acting against them and even if she didn't honor the same eternal values as me, she should had told it to me before spitting on them and poisoning our existence with bitchy remarks like "the one who loves lesser wins" or "just find somebody to sleep with". Does such a bitch deserve to live?
Picasa albums or YouTube movies still will be telling a part of my stories henceforth, but without these comments. I still have lots of public or hidden placeholders for stories I want to tell, but didn't have any time to process them. They will be enhanced later in the course of time and published on their original date ... but there will be nothing after this post until the cause of this hell dies and my heart will be free again, in a world without anybody who acquired it by a definite promise of souls and bodies until the end of her life.
I just hope that that moment will come soon and the last day's and first morning's thought will cease to exist together with its object. The redemption from the eternal humiliation.
I'm sure that in time, every bit of her will be gone and her death will be a mystery ... even to me.
The last stroke of midnight dies.
All day in the one chair
From dream to dream and rhyme to rhyme I have ranged
In rambling talk with an image of air:
Vague memories, nothing but memories.
![]() | ![]() |
![]() | ![]() |
![]() | ![]() |
The worst crime against humanity is not killing a man, but teasing him,
irreversibly damage his body or soul
and force him to live on in the never ending pain.
Balanced amount of pain in one soul and of happiness in another one
together maintaining the eternal equilibrium of existence.
The happier a bitch gets, the more is her victim suffering,
until they're all drown in emotionless apathy
smoothing down the pain of nightmares
caused by the interrupted dreams
and hostile absurd reality.
How do you persuade your love
that she MUST NEVER become a bitch
when she already did ...
... and does ...
... and does ...
... and enjoys doing it ...
until the death will bring the redemption
and finally finishes this joke of the Devil.






What is any life without the pursuit of a dream? 
Happiness is only real when shared.
