monkey on my back

Have you ever had a feeling that you have behaved for far too long? As I was walking yet again to university, to bury myself in books and research, I could feel the inner demons coming alive. In Amsterdam for the fist time in many years, the inner demons were mostly under control, due to the heavy use of various natural products that are readily available in the Netherlands. But here in Wales, I have not indulged myself at all, only the occasion mess with alcohol, but nothing major. As a good friend of mine would describe this feeling as having the damn monkey on your back, I think he knew only too well what he was talking about. The damn monkey is on my back now and its all I can think about. What does all of this say about me?
I knew the cure for this condition back in the day was to walk to a coffee shop and obey the scream of the monkey. But if I obey everytime, I would be the same as I was in Amsterdam. What that came to was something pretty scary and out of control. But at the same time, I have been looking back on this time in my life, like an old man at the end of his road dreaming of his youth. I miss being slightly out of control.

I have a feeling that as I leave for London tomorrow, I will get this monkey off my back, the old school way.

The demons have returned in full force.

Have we forgotten - or do some of us think we are better than them?

During the Second World War, the resistance that was built on the rubble of destroyed European countries, The Netherlands, France, Poland, and even from those who welcomed the Nazis without a shot ever being fired, like the Danes, fought hard and used methods that might have violated a few human rights along the way. The common cause put aside political, religious and ideological differences, as the main objective was to drive out the Germans, which went above everything else. These people, who fought hard and long were hailed as heroes, true patriots. Their methods of sabotage, were not very popular in some areas however, as a direct backlash to victories of the resistance was the execution of locals by the Germans, as a warning and as a punishment.
We seem to have forgotten that an occupation force inside your country can create very strong emotions as we the Europeans, as well as the other fat cats of the Western World, do not need to bother ourselves with such things anymore. Now we have become the occupiers, preaching our cause and our policies to others. This is the situation in Iraq. The Sunnis and the Shiites that are fighting against the Americans and the Brits, as well as killing their own brothers, are in a battle of resistance. To get rid of the occupying force and get their country back. But what are the words out of Bush and Blair? They talk of terrorists and jihads. Perhaps some of the foreign fighters, invited by the Sunni insurgents view this fight as a jihad, for their greater willingness to die, but the Iraqis on a whole do not. Try this word for size: muqawama - a resistance. They fight to revenge the humiliation they felt when American and British troops alike kicked them like dogs, pushed them to the ground and killed their families and friends. This will not stop, until the coalition withdraws and gives the country, occupied on false grounds, back to the people. So now there is a shaky timetable set to withdraw the troops, but what I have seen and heard from the most powerful man on the earth and his pet, is that you cannot really take them at their word. So, I will believe that they really want to give back the oil they stole from the Iraqis, which is paying for the occupation, and to turn back to Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and other Arab countries and negotiate for their oil rather than take, when the last American flag is lowered in Iraq. When the withdrawal has taken place, most Iraqis will lay down their weapons and start to rebuild their lives, as they would have fulfilled Allah's will by driving the infidels out. It will be a great day, which should be celebrated, as the day when America and the Western world will view the Middle East as equal. Its a humbling lesson, which must be learnt now.

When the soldiers return, shattered to bits, do not spit on them with disgust, rather celebrate them for their courage and commitment. I don't think there are many among the coalition soldiers who would have wanted to see what a child looks like after a mortar has landed next to him. They are there, because they are fulfilling their contratcs, keeping their word. Its not their fault that their governments are using them to do their dirty work.

Its a sunny day in Wales, for the first time in weeks, so I am going out of this house and put my mind to other things, rather than Iraq, like going for a cup of tea in the city centre and buying some Christmas presents.

Be good.

technology

I wish I was a computer nerd. I mean, a person with a high level of knowledge about these damn machines. My computer on a regular basis thinks its funny to delete all the bookmarks. Like this morning. But as its not the first time, I remember most of the addresses by now. Just did not expect such a lovely gift this morning.
Had a listen to the weather lady and according to her, its going to be a stormy weekend. I had forgotten how often and how much it rains in Wales, well all the more reason to stay home and drink. Actually I decided yesterday to stop drinking for a while, due to the embarassing incidents that occured on Wednesday night, which I of course have no clue because I blacked out.
Pearl was lovely enough to tease me all day about this. She kept telling me that I had confessed my love to another woman and how she had cried herself to sleep. Not funny, when I actually believed her, because I had no idea. But a great line nontheless. If I was in her position, I would have done the same thing. Can't remember a thing. I thought I had passed out and gone to sleep, while the real version tells that I had a long chat with my flatmate and with Pearl. So no drinking till I am 33 years old, which by the look of my internal organs is about next week. :)
I am on a mission to write yet another essay about the Middle East. So I must dash off and read more.

horrible morning

Been working quite a bit recently, was on medication for two weeks due to laser surgery and then went out for a pint which turned into many many more after a long day without eating. Smart move on the whole. Being pissed in the middle of the week when there is a pile of work to be finished is a great move. Or perhaps I am getting old or just sad for not being able to do it like during my first university years. I remember meeting this Finnish guy in Aberystwyth, Pasi, there for an exchange who drank nearly every night, like a sponge, but who only suffered one hangover in the whole semester. How unfair is that? Whereas the hardcore alcoholic that I am, two glasses or pints and I can feel it the next morning.
Yeah, I know, moan, moan, moan. But I feel like my grandmother this morning and its a hard one to shake. OK, something positive, then. I passed out at 9.30 pm last night curled up on my bed in all my clothes after throwing my mobile underneath the cupboard and smashing my knee on the end of my bed, only to wake up over 12hrs later in the same position. Perhaps I needed the sleep! Now wasn't that a hell of a lot more positive?
As I am a sarcastic Finn by nature, sometimes my sense of humour, maintaining that I have one, is totally misunderstood or taken as an insult. The other day an American girl was knocking on the door of the postgraduate suite, as she does not have access yet, I went over and opened the door. She asked me why she has no access and I have access and I told her that she did not have it because she is American. She had a look of hate in her eyes....


1st prisoner: What are you in for?
2nd prisoner: I said something nasty about Comrade Popov in 1937. And you?
1st prisoner: I said something nice about Comrade Popov in 1938.
2nd prisoner: and what about you, comrade?
3rd prisoner: I am Comrade Popov