Childhood and The Darwin Requirements

The green room in my Grandma’s house. I wake up and all I see is books. This was what I saw all my life and then college happened. It is so easy to forget the right of passage that comes with being surrounded by books all your life. There were three things in my family for which money was not counted: books, food, cultural events (operas etc).

    Books.  Ever since I can remember I was surrounded by books.  Stories, novels and heroic epics.  Semi-scientific, technical and guides were among them.  The collections grew, every unanswered question produced a book, every curiosity was expended and every doubt challenged.  So who am I?  I’m Jan and I didn’t like to read till I was about twenty-two.  I read at about six pages an hour and I don’t absorb what I read, unless I read it four or more times.  I am lucky.  I am…

    I am worried.  My parents are the two best people I have ever met.  With minor flaws (butterfly effect: where they?) they raised me.  They had the answers, the strength, the patience and the unlimited love.  The longer the more worried I am.

    I know I will make a decent parent (father), but what about the other person?  If I fall in love in a woman for who she is.  Not who she might become, such as sex-toy incapable of being a good mother.  Will we be able to be good parents?  As long as we try and love we should be O.K. right?

    There is something weird about humans I consider great people and the ones which I consider great parents.  In rare case they are the same person, but that happens very rarely.  I need good lucky and I always wished I could be half as good at the only job out there without an internship nor a job description and where the rewards aren’t qualitative.

    So should one consider children when looking for a mate?  I think so, but there is a limit on how much pressure you can put on the subject.  I heard somewhere that: “Although females become mothers when they get pregnant, males become fathers the moment they get to hold the child”.  As usual we do not get informed.  We just get the job and hope not to screw it up, how could we?  Simple, but is what we create characteristically a mirror of us?  If so, screwing up was in our nature, so genetics and lack of condom made a new Darwin Award runner up, right after daddy.

Introducing “A Person” Representing Humans

Subway meets city-train and there is a dungeon filled with people. All different. Different color pallets, different styles, different purpose. All to show uniqueness and distinguish them selves from the average Joe. Result all are singularities in their own right. Every now and then you find a Cow or Bull being so dull all you say is…

    I am growing found of people.  Although I never feel connected, nor completely conferrable (as if I was from another species), I am starting to understand my need for human contact.  There are people that I like more than most and most I like better then the rest.  I pondered, for some time now, about what are the things I like or I am drawn by, in people I try to surround myself with.

    Today was not much different than most of my days.  Most of my Polish “peeps” are writing their Master-thesis or just don’t want to talk to me.  To keep myself occupied I took my camera, bottle of water, the monthly bus ticket and hiked to Warsaw.  I walk around the capital, taking pictures and observing, absorbing people.  Seems boring, until you start seeing what is hidden from sight.

    I was always clear about my thirst for knowledge.  If I can choose to know or not to know, I choose knowing by default.  Same as with knowledge I hold true to people.  All of them, if they want it or not, are unique and special.  Some unfortunately cheapen themselves to the point of boring, ordinary and commonality.  Others, a very rare group, hold true to their secrets and are as big of a puzzle after many years of friendship.

    I have been compared to “Dr. House” before and this comparison raises no feelings in me.  I do not like people only for their secrets and the puzzles they present.  However, if they are simple to predict, I find interactions with them to be more of a bother than a rewarding experience it should be.  I like the effort I have to put into the constant attunement to the person I interact with.

    If I like somebody, it usually means, I am appreciative of their past.  Because in their past is the key to that which I like about them today, even if I do not agree with all their choices or decisions they have made.  There are somethings that, we hope, are concerned across people.  There are traits that are more culturally themed than upbringing.  There are other things… things which we do not want to know about.  I ponder about things like that and today I happened to feel attuned to the people around me.  I want to know.  I am Jan.  Who are you?  What is so special about you?

The Result of Food, Safety and Time: Insanity

Remember the day I ran naked around? Well, I hope you don’t but this is a picture of some of the food I had. Fresh, hand picked, naturally grown, no pesticide, loved by the sun and so delicious strawberries and Real bread (wonder-bread is not real, that’s why you wonder). It was so good it is hard not to remember, I am going to miss it.

If you ever have the pleasure of visiting NY-state in USA and have time to waste I would recommend visiting some of the shopping centers in central part of Long Island. I’m sure that this phenomena exists everywhere but I have witnessed it in qualitative numbers in Smith-Haven Mall. I am talking about the Emo, Suicide Girl, Punk, Goth etc dressed teenagers. I wanted to stress that the teenagers are just an example of a more general type of behavior.

When all your earthly needs are satisfied: you are not hungry, do not have to worry about little stuff, you feel safe and you have way to much free time, what happens? You starts consider existence and realize that you’re unhappy. Why? You have everything most of us wish for. I want to stipulate that it is because one is not creating, doing anything “real”. Your life does not matter because you are not making a difference, any difference, and the longer you think about it the more frustrated you get.

Results are radical changes in behavior. The hope is that if one changes how they interact with the world the feeling of satisfaction will return. Teenager from L.I. change dress codes, listen to music which thematically talks about life so distance to theirs. They cut themselves, talk (try) suicide, drink, do drugs and group in looking for support, all normal people (parents included) do not approve. Why would they approve something that does not fit the system? They never do.

Older people get paranoid, they are to systematized to become radical. They are rude, unconsidered and selfish. They turn to monsters, which are usually excused due to their age or illnesses. This is problematic, but no one will dare to say anything, even if they cry themselves to sleep.

Just like there are teenagers which dress one way, because is what they fits, suits them and some elders are just bastards regardless of age, most of the population does it as an act of desperation. I will not define what I mean by ‘doing “real” things’, that is for another entry. I will, however say that you can not fight with this phenomena. You can either adjust or oppose it, fighting it is futile.

The Art of Miracles: The Summer Rain

Park “Saski” when the rain was just starting. Most people cleared out minutes after the first droplet hit the ground. They seemed scared as if they could dissolve. “BS…..” but the park got empty fast. There is still some dry concrete left, half an hour later only a little spot, my spot, was left dry, the damn leaf roof started leaking.

It was hot. With little draft, people turned into “turtles” slowly moving through the park. Past generations, couples, lovers and close friends set around on the benches, munching at worlds issues or each other. Life seemed simple ordered and not problematic, but without any excitements (nothing wanted to move).

I watched the clouds, took pictures and pondered. Planing on writing stuff when I got home, munched on chocolate stuffed waffles, next best thing to a set of 36C. I was happy. It was a nice day. The wind changed… Clouds started shifting, dust moved and reshuffled as if it was a set of mahjong. People adjusted, suckers got unstuck and wiped their lips, children sped up, temperature dropped, amount of couples degrees etc.

First person left the place I was sitting, shortly after first drop landed. Fat and lazy just like a SUV owner hitting a McDonald. Splat! Next ones came shortly after, but in numbers worse than voters during presidential election. I moved, I am not scared of rain, but getting wet for free is just stupid (I have a two hour travel back home).

I got to the bench (see above) walking, people started running. Lovers so much into each other minutes ago, separated, now the guys stopped paying attention to anything but their gelled hair and A&E t-shirts. True nature of people came out. Shortly after that the park cleared.

The rain’s speed picked up, it was coming down in buckets at a time, everything got wet fast. I sat on the bench and when my leaf roof started leaking, I moved and kept moving till I occupied the only dry stop in the park. The rain was amazing and any attempt at a description is bound to fail, it was simply breathtaking. Afterwards fog rose from the asphalt and moved around, jabs of wind dropped whatever of the rain got saved in the leafs. People returned, and only seldom puddles were felt as reminders of the miracle that happened just minutes ago. Life moved on…