And then I jerked off

Bad sex is like a poorly written script: the more takes you force, the worse it gets.

The most recent novelty in my life is acting. While I'm trying to give my best to the poor bastard who picked me for the main role by random, I have these amusing moments of silence. The crew does what it does best, the other actors are sitting and chatting around so it is not precisely the type of silence you may think of, however the peace I find amidst this seemingly chaotic environment is almost as relaxing as jerking off while taking a shower. Almost. So silence creates peace, peace creates fertile soil for my thoughts, and finally my thoughts are... well, they form up to something clever. Or dumb. This time: both.

She was the hottest girl in the dorm. She was a bit short but nonetheless gorgeous. Had danced for over ten years, had the curves you won't find anywhere. She was somewhat simple-minded which she perfectly deputized with her emotional intelligence: the kind of girl you'd never like to discuss Wittgenstein with, just rather fuck her til the last breath. Or at least that was what I had thought.

First time was bad. She was drunk. Being drunk usually has two implications on women: either turns them into a sexual predator who feed on cock, or instantly switches off their "seductive powers" button. It was only later when I found out that her buttons were deactivated by the manufacturer.

So second time was bad again. We weren't drunk. Not being drunk often has two implications on women: either turns them into the sexual fantasy you had been imagining about, or become the authentic counterparts of what we call as a "piece of wood".

Third time was the last time. She was drunk. She ate some spicy soup with beans before she rushed into my room to grab me out of my late night trance, and to -finally- fuck me. Being drunk usually has two implications on women, but I've already told you that. And yet I still believed the sheer eroticism of her character won't die out once I start undressing her.

I was wrong again. Still, the bathroom seemed cosy enough to bend her over (roomies' peace shan't be disturbed), but undressing her brought the same disappointment. She tired to kiss me but all her mouth spoke to me was an ugly burp which chanted the exact ingredients of the soup.

I sent her out. She needed sleep, and she even believed it's better to rest. There I was, sitting in the shower, hot water scorching my skin; half stiff cock in my hand. I laughed.

And since there was nothing better to do, I jerked off.

Why am I an ass?

EXT. PARK. NOON

Birds are chirping. Distant chatter dithers from the background mixed with busy noises of a near road. Young man holds his hand on his face with a sour grimace. Much shorter girl opposes him just a few steps in front, ready to strike again. Although the girl's appearance is rather poor and the boy's clothes represent a certain stature, it seems the girl has the upper hand.

BOY

Why am I an ass?

GIRL

Are you still asking?

BOY

A man needs some explanation...

GIRL

And the woman refuses to give one.

Slaps the boy again, still furious but obviously less vehement. Boy recognizes the softening, but apparently ignores it.

BOY

I just can't see why this thing is such an issue.

GIRL

This thing? You mean, using your cock as a fishing rod and fish all who bite on it?

BOY

I don't like where this is going, but the example fascinates me.

GIRL

Does it? Well, if it pleases you, answer me one thing. Are you enjoying all those minnows biting on?

BOY

Oh, baby. Minnows are minnows. They serve practical needs. 

Girl, being rather shocked by the boy's words takes control over her rage. Moreover, she appears now woeful and tiny.

GIRL

 Am I not good enough to serve the practical needs?

BOY

C'mon sweetheart. You ain't a minnow. Ain't a fish... but like a whale.

GIRL

A whale? Now that's very sweet of you.

Boy realizes his mistake, nervously laughs and tries to carry out a hug, which he fails.

BOY

You know I didn't mean that way. You are a dolphin... A sexy, curvy dolphin. Swimming free in the seas... All the foam around your body. Sunshine glints on drops of water chasing down on you..

Girl reluctantly accepts the hug. She finds some comfort as the boy embraces her from behind. Boy now lowers his voice, and switches to a much more tender tone.

BOY

You are a special kind of dolphin. Your pretty white skin... your swift and flexible body... those curved lines, all suporting perfection. 

Girl finds herself shaking a bit, grabbing the boy's arms with both hands.

GIRL

I can't believe your dolphin-talk just bought me.

BOY

That's my charm, honey. I might be a bad fisherman, but I throw back the minnow and only keep the dolphin. And you know what I do with dolphin?

Girl totally loses it, moanes silently.

BOY

See? I don't ask much. Forget the minnows... I throw them back anyways. I let them breathe. But as for you...

Boy grasps girl's neck gently but with iron hand. She gulps with excitement.

GIRL

B-but baby...

BOY

What is it?

GIRL

What if there is an another dolph...

BOY

Oh, just shut your cute mouth.

Squeezes the girl's face and sticks his lips to hers.

FADE TO BLACK

Eger-Trabzon-Eger

This is a rather free translation of the original. Click if you are lucky enough to understand it!

The title? Nope, it's not a route planner.

Rather a foolish jubilance. This is how I could depict the relation between Eger and Trabzon:

Now that you are blinded by my paint skills, continue reading.

I've always loved to contradistinguish things. I enjoyed comparing Lake Balaton with the Adriatic Sea, chocolate ice cream with lemon flavored, Tolkien with Martin, brunettes and blondes and so on. Yet these are somewhat simple examples. Lake Balaton is better then the Adriatic, chocolate beats lemon, Tolkien owns Martin, and brunettes are always better than blondes, except when they aren't. Problems start to occur once we make two not that obviously differing subject face each other. Raspberry or strawberry flavored ice cream? Beatles or the Stones? Foreign girls or Hungarians? And -finally- reaching the peak of my argument: 

Trabzon or Eger?

Let's ignore the fact that comparing two such obviously contrasting cities is normally utterly nonsense. One is Turkish, other is Hungarian; one is located at the seaside surrounded by proud peaks, other is situated amidst low hills. No matter how I'm contradicting myself, I'll make these two cities face each other. No matter what you think. This is my blog. My rules. It's my bitch. The blog, I meant. I'm running this thing. Just like a pimp. Got it? Get it? Good.

so

I've strolled enough in both cities, with or without camera, equipped with pen and ink, some tunes in my ears. A brief list of the things I think of, there and back:

Eger: joy, universe, la vie, event, accidentals, future, people, air (fresh), fervent, home, wine, book, women, sun, stars, trees, writing, fatigue

Trabzon: grim, bitter, seaside, rain, family, Nalan, tomorrow, Hungary, teaching, health, sickness, death, alone, self-pity, end, growing up, ripening, creed, a fucking celibacy to live in this corner of the world, air (igrenc)

I had elevated my Trabzon exile to a Shakespearean level so gravely that it wasn't fixed with my homecoming. Still, all is bright and pretty now, spring is at our doorstep. Plenty of sunrises and sunsets glamor me as I walk the streets of Eger. It was one of those evenings I roamed throught the town. Night almost fell as I was admiring the last pastel tones of dusk. Our sun had already vanished and the night sky started to take over from the other side of the horizon. Slightly above the trees and rooftops a cold yet sweet sunbeam dithered, warily smoothing the edge of the urban landscape. Blueish, simple color it was, so gently flowing around the pine trees' silhouttes that I couldn't stop myself reciting:

Smooth sky-sea washes
With gentle foam
duh, no
Blue sea-sky embraces
Trees, houses, mazes

Yeter! Yells the audience. But the feeling remains. Why the hell did those two colors amuse me so much? I charge my happiness with unseen rage. I dislike the way I favor Eger. Surely, I must had some similar moments in Trabzon! Nay! Even better ones! Found some proof:

And even

Silhoutess are at least as pretty there as well. But as long as Trabzon sunsets and dusk mean the fall and death of hope (even non-existence of it), Eger only has to show me a lucky meeting of two rooftops in front of blue mood lights and it's already reminding me feminine intimacy. Why?

Why am I chanting Under the Bridge on my way home from the private school, inevitably comparing Kiedis' L.A to my Trabzon whilst I erase every grim and depressing song from my phone in Eger and pump up the volume for all the joyful shit like Sting and Jamiroquai?

WHY?

The diagram above says it all. Nothing else matters.

My eucatastrophe

I wanted a poem out of this, but my Hungarian has been out of order recently. The post is a strange metaphor- one that I haven't solved yet. Now please read; and comprehend.

Create a metaphor.

It has to be about two. I could have tried with one or three, but eventually it's always about two.
Let's draw a sketch of these two.
One is masculinity on its dawn; the other is feminity on its infinite zenith. Not just we've created two characters but we also have a sound antithesis.
Let's pretend they are both stars, if we've already made them act as if they were our Sun. The antithesis receives a boost now. Stars are relatively far from each other. Furthermore, even if we relate to a fixed position to see where each stars "dawn" and "zenith" would be, they won't ever be at the same place.

I sincerely hope you are still following.

Now let's deepen the characteristics' of the stars of masculinity and feminity a bit further. Stars are huge or tiny, differ in color, temperature, brightness and so on. Different planets and cosmic objects surround them. One is lonely and the other one can't count its friends. Actually we don't even need to define how our two stars look like because we know it well that they are going to differ for sure (or not).

Here comes the trick.

We take out both stars from their relevant solar system, and carefully insert them into a place designed just for them. What happens next? Catastrophe. Stars just can't understand each other. They pretend to be in their own solar system. They talk about their own planets, comets and space debris. They don't care much about the other's parameters or if they do, it happens to be something they also have on their own. Now even if they realize eventually the prime and blatant fact (as in being similar) they wouldn't overcome the greatest obstacle posed between them... And that is, dawn admires zenith but zenith only smiles at dawn.

Who put these two in the same space? And why would he do that? What an ass move, god. Sorry for blaming you again, but it seems like you are responsible for all the ass moves in this universe. But I'm putting my trust in you and look more into this splending little metaphor.

There is a good reason for stars not being in the same solar system. Their immense power is the single focal point of each system. There is no place for two... only if, per chance, they bond as a binary star. As rare and unique they are, once they accept the other, they create something exquisite and unrepeatable. Does dawn want to play his chances? Is zenith going to gamble? Eventually it all seem to be impossible and unrealistic.

My guess is that it's going to end as it was predicted before (ie. as a catastrophe)... only if god quits delivering ass moves and induces an eucatastrophe*. And as every protagonist, I can only wish that he intervenes.

Stars might live without a zenith; but I just can't.

*Eucatastrophe is some sort of deus ex machina that turns an almost sure doom into a relieving and happy ending. Tolkien had created the term (eu=Greek 'good'); often used in fantasy and in a certain Hungarian writer's mindset.