Category: idiosyncratic


I guess we all have years that sort of push us, that get us to the verge of not knowing where to start and where to end. This will be one of these years for me. I know it.

2016 is the logical consequence of 2015, and even though the past year brought me so many many good things, it also brought with it a lot of things and insights that have overshadowed this young year. The facts are all known. And hence, the remedy is at hand too. However, I need a break from all of what surrounds me now.

This being the fact, I decided to re-activate my English blog to keep track of what I’m doing.

I decided to take one year off. I need to for various reasons, and I have a lot of things on my mind right now. So this blog will serve the sole purpose of being something of a log book of the year 2016.

At this minute, these are very early stages of a much needed time-out and of a new phase in my life. Hoping that it will bring me wisdom, creativity, laughter and relief, as well as distance to certain things. Traumas that I need to let go.

The good thing about a Sabbatical is the whole tabula rasa notion, the freedom to let go and the ability to find new shores, new tasks and new skills.

The bad thing about a Sabbatical is the emptiness of a blackboard that you need to fill with useful content.

 

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It’s been quite a ride. From my New Year’s Post until today.

Today marks the first eight years in Ibiza. It’s been quite a tough ride, sometimes it wasn’t all skipping through the daisies, but I made it so far.

Now, when I look back on the past twelve months I can only say. It was a whole lot of work, but in the end it was damn well worth it.

So, at the end of November I received my first copies of my newly published book, La nit estesa (Night extended) which is a crime (type film noir in book form with pulp elements) novel which draws on various literary genres. It’s basically a hard-boiled detective story but also some kind of underground novel. It shows you Ibiza from its seedy drug ridden underbelly. Protagonist is one hapless anti-hero fighting his drug addiction.

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I’ve been pretty busy in the past few weeks, starting the translation of my book into two languages. So, that’s something that kind of keeps me busy. As well as promoting my book in the Catalan language region, the Balearic Isles, as well as mainland Catalonia.

I also have a very thousands of new ideas for new writings. I finished two different poetry books this year, I compiled a short story selection and began the draft of a new novel. So there are things that can be expected for 2016 or 2017 depending on how fast things go and I get them to move forward.

Before you do your first real publication, you’re completely concerned if people will like your book. Now, if I’m honest, that’s not really a concern for me anymore, it might sound a bit mean or tough, but the truth is, once your book is out, you immediately start to think of new things to write about, about the next step. Well, that’s how it is with me, anyway. The tears, the pain, the sweat and the effort are all in the book. Now I need something new to get my teeth in. Lol 😉

Apart from being busy, I start getting noted which is nice, it’s weird, but it’s nice too. So, I’ve got an interview request and I hope that both interview and the two book launches can be carried out without fail.

At the minute, the whole thing around “La nit estesa” is a whole lot of juggling times, and juggling your other projects, and juggling family and friends. It can be a drag, but let’s face it. There are by far worse things to complain about. So I will shut up now.

I’ve had an extraordinary and truly exciting year 2015. A year of growth. And somehow, I hope this is just the first bit of a rollercoaster ride that please does not stop mid-air or with my head in a spin or some upside down position.

Looking forward to it.

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I thought that I had it all under control. How wrong was I? Well, forget it. That was just rhetorical.

Under control. Sounds so mature and adult.

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But that’s never the case, anyway, with writers, and weird artists, is it.

When I look back on the summer vacations of the kids which rather sooner than later come to a close, I get a little panicky. What is it that I achieved so far? And Spanish summer vacations are long, they are like an aeon. I really hope that school starts over soon. I want to get back to be able to do things again. Get back in the saddle. Get along. Move on.

There is something inside me that feels kind of paralyzed or haunted or even cursed by the recent things I had the doubtful pleasure to be involved in, being the protagonist, one mean want to add.

I feel out of sorts. Emotionally all over the place. Fed up and wasted. Running on empty.

Left alone. Sometimes abandoned by friends.

Misunderstood. THat’s the most awful but also powerful feeling of all.

And kind of like this permanent underachiever.

Believe me, would you have the chance to talk to some of my previous teachers or friends who’ve known me from my early tens and until my mid twenties, you’d know that underachiever is not something that springs to mind when talking about me. And yet, recently, my life seems to have amounted to that of a huge failure.

For whom is it worse?

For the one who never had success?

For the one who tasted success and kind of tripped, stumbled and fell?

For the one who was always successful?

And what’s more? Is it true? Is this what I am? A failure.

Society wise, I am probably one. Mother, not even holding down a decent job in more than ten years. Always jobbing in McJobs. Not getting anywhere. Yes, failure.

Personally, I wouldn’t consider myself that much of a failure. I am someone who knows a whole lot of things. I am fluent in a couple of languages, I read a lot, I am on top of things, with my family and with my kids. We have a great life in terms of being a family. That is something that kind of psyches me a lot.

So what happens here? Is this the reason, why I am so unhappy? Don’t I allow myself to be happy just because i don’t have a decent job here? It sure isn’t for the lack of trying. Ibiza is fickle. I think I belong here. But being perceived as a failure by some few outsiders who just look at the very surface of things, that is something I should try to throw overboard. I do feel sad when I find that people only see my outward image and the failure to fit in to a society that doesn’t allow for freaks like me… It does make me feel that they should see my positive traits, it’s something that kind of brings me down. Is this mature? No, it surely isn’t. But I cannot help it. I still feel that everyone should tell me “Attaboy” every once in a while. And I can see that this is where a lot of problems within my life come from. This feeling of wanting to be the winner, the super achiever, the feeling that you can only be loved, if you are the winner.

What happened here? Am I hardwired to be only think I’d be loveable when I win? Do I even have the slightest chance to be happy in life? I feel happy for my kids. Because there seems to be something I must have done right, cos we are so close to each other. They tell me things. I see them grow up as happy and also as self confident little individuals, all with very different personalities. Why can’t I be like this? Why am I still so full of doubts, so unsecure about myself? Why am I still on the edge of everything when I should relax and enjoy life?

The answer seems simple. I just can’t. There are questions inside of me.

Questions that are still not answered. And questions that will never be answered.

Is it this reality shift that doesn’t allow people to step out of this huge shadow that society makes us perceive people without a permanent job? When I was younger, I was very straight-laced, very much the daughter of two doctors, very immune to any social ladder, and absolutely sure that I would never stumble or fall down. So when at age 18 I moved out, things were quite different. I had perceived things through a certain angle that was no longer there. So I rearranged my views. And that was hard, but I managed to do it, or rather undo that which was due to the way I was brought up. I grew up in this middle class family, with two aspiring doctors, and we were three children at home. I was the only girl, the middle child.

I must admit, I am someone who doubts everything. I doubt everyone, every day, every second of my life.

Maybe, writers must be like this, doubting, pondering, doubting again, I thought. But some aren’t like this. So that argument doesn’t cut it either.

There are people who have the most bulletproof egoes I have ever seen. But the truth is I do not belong to them. If you deal with me, doubt will be part of the experience. And it’s not even a conscious decision. It’s inherent in my nature, but somehow the doubt is projected onto me. And I don’t move along smoothly, I always tend to stumble through life, rather than walk upright. This is not effortless motion, it’s a tour de fource. Never mind stepping up a ladder. It’s not in my genes.

Maybe, it’s still my father’s death lingering over my head like a huge dark cloud that kind of hovers around, sometimes leaving me in peace, and sometimes not.

I could really think that this still is affecting me. It might still be the case. But come on, my father and me, we had an ongoing fight who was stronger, throughout my life. And I reckon I kind of gave way, because here he is, beating me to it. It’s not that life with him was always easy, but it was a hell of an intense father-daughter relationship which somehow made me the person I am. So either way, I am thankful for what my dad gave me. Be it his mental skills, his emotional depth, his love for music or his deeply rooted love for nature and more than anything his deep understanding of people as a species. He understood all of them. Correct, he understood all of them, except one. And that was me.

Maybe, it’s the fact that I did not achieve the goals that I set for myself.
What kind of goals were these?

I wanted to move forward. I had this weird impression I wasn’t going anywhere. I so wanted to find a publisher. But as I am writing these lines, I got nothing more than warm words and therefore I am still at ground zero with that. It seems not to happen like this. My novel is finished, but it’s this missing feeling of closure. I am very happy with it, but I cannot seem to find a publisher who is eager enough to publish it.

Maybe it’ll happen but hey, who am I kidding? It gives of the scent of a big fat white lie. Probably nobody wants to read the novel, and I should accept it and move on.

And with all of what happened in between set goals and not achieving them, I had two jobs in between, some money rip offs that happened to me, and more than a handful quite shady job opportunities. It’s just weird. When I apply for a job, people seem to think that I should bring money with me and not the other way round, which made me somewhat reluctant on that front. And I do have a home office, and internet, the right mindset, and what not. But the truth is that I am half employed, half unemployed. Right now the time of being unemployed has just begun.

That again doesn’t help to raise my spirits.

I always look out for new jobs, but it’s somewhat weird to look for a job, that seems to only exist in terms of self-employment. But I can’t do that. I cannot risk making myself self-employed without the perspective of getting a single dollar (or euro) and still be paying 250€ per month to get the bird off the ground. It’s all very tricky.

Some of my friends have been picking on me, calling me irresponsible, calling me worse than irresponsible, making me feel even worse, kind of letting me know that they of course have the patent recipe for all of this. We should all move back to Germany. Oh, how great is that? I would think that after almost seven years of living in Ibiza this is the most insane thing I could of.

I would rather pick stones in a Russian camp for dissidents or eagerly slash my wrists than going back there. I was so suicidal, so damn and downright unhappy and sooooo alone back there. There is no way on this earth that I am going back to this country that made me suffer this much.

So, what am I left with?

I will have to make do.

Maybe, it would be a great time to throw away the expectations I had when I was twelve, and get new ones. Just be happy with who you are. Love who you are and love people around you. And accept life for what it is.

Since I am not really practical, I have been failing at that gloriously. But that’s what true artists are really good at.

Failing.

They make an artful of their broken images and their shattered hopes.

Ok, let’s cut the chase. I get to the point right now. Medias in res.

In Spain, we have two major problems.

The two biggest internal affairs right now are as follows:

1.) There is the ongoing fight in the Spanish parliament about whether or not Catalonia should have a referendum for the possible Independence of Catalonia. This is one major concern right now. You cannot open the web, without being aware of tons of articles, or not, but as a foreigner you tend to get lost easily. So what’s up with that?

There are two sides, as always. The one side wants the referendum. The other one does not. The reason for why Catalonia should have their referendum is pretty clear. Two weeks after the 11th of September, which was the celebration for Independence Day, broadcasted around the globe a couple of hundreds of millions times with the historically long “Via Catalana” a human chain by hundreds of thousands of people, and above all, peaceful, without any type of violence. The other side, however, says no… Ok, so let’s ask why…

I could speculate and speculate but the main reason is and always has been the money… Barcelona and the Catalonian region have a functioning economy, much to the chagrin of the NO sayers in Madrid. USA Today even called Catalonia the milk cow that’s being milked every so often when the funds in Madrid are empty. The cow seems to be tired of being milked so often. Ok. This in itself may explain for the obvious NO from Madrid as they do need the money. But let’s go one step further, let’s ask an underlying question. Why is there so much hatred that goes with the whole question…? There is such an underlying hate element in the Spanish society that sometimes even frightens me.

Best example was this poor Valencian guy who was imprisoned for talking to the police (in a normal traffic control) in Catalan, one of two official languages of the Catalonian region. The thing is: He was neither drunk nor drugged. And yet, he was taken away, he was arrested and put before a judge: For speaking his mother tongue. No, we haven’t taken a time machine. This is not 1939. This is 2013. This has some strange taste to it. There are a lot of historic “ghosts”, evanescent moments of hatred and repression that still work the same way as 75 years ago. All this is embedded on a very emotional level. Luckily, the poor chap, got some media coverage and via change.org and with the help of the social networks, the man was freed and his prison sentence of six months for speaking to the police in Valencian was revoked. But does it need to get that far??? I mean, come on, really. The whole incident seemed so warped that I had to include it even though it seems like a slight affair.

We are faced with the dark side of history. Spain had a dictatorship up until 1975 and the violation of civil rights, the pain and suffering, the cruelties, the passion, the fear and the repression so many people had to deal with, it is still alive. It is still inside most families. Some of them remember who someone close to them was charged politically, was taken away, and imprisoned or even executed. Spain is a free country. It is democratic. Is it?

Yes. On the whole it is. Spain is even liberal when you think of places like Marbella or Ibiza… But then again, is this actually the real Spain, or is it just what people think Spain is??? So what do I know??? You might argue, but you are not even Spanish, or have a Catalonian husband or whatever, but I see what I see. And each day, I get a better impression about what happens. Ever since I started to learn Catalan and finally prick up my ears.

The thing is there will not be any kind of mutual understanding and a non-hatred fuelled relationship between Spain and Catalonia, unless Spain simply lets go and leaves Catalonians be who they are, and let them go their chosen way. It might not be what Madrid, what the Spanish royal family, or what Rajoy would want for Spain, but still, they have a right to decide. We live in a democratic state (at least that’s what they say), so let them have it their way. Let them please vote.

We in Europe have so many states with two, with three or even with four languages. Think Belgium, Switzerland, parts of Germany, think Sicily, think Crete, think Malta. The more attractive a region is, less chances you have of there being only spoken one language. Chances are that a couple of nations already tried to invade it, and chances are that this happened. I am sorry if this is a bit juvenile but I always think of Asterix and Obelix when I think about invasion.

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You might think that the people in Madrid may be the Romans trying to force the Catalans to give up their language and cultural identity. But Madrid and a couple of politic agitators just see it just the opposite way. They see the Catalans as the agitators, or the traitors of the Spanish crown. There are some ultra-right wing people who deliberately disturbed the celebration of the “Onze de setembre” (September 11th), the Catalonian Independence Day. Funnily enough, justice was very lenient here, and they got away with a ridiculously low amount of 300€ while they smashed up things, menaced people, were hooded, entered a government building and were clearly not there in a pacific mission.

 

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Justice is a funny thing. This is something that startles me. How on earth can they get away with that? And how can the politicians in Madrid believe that their behavior was tolerable when they behave like that, that one might call a screaming injustice. Justice must have had a pretty bad day to sentence one man to 6 months of prison for speaking his mother tongue, and for fining another for an act of sheer and utter violence & some slight terroristic tendencies with a slight slap on the wrist.

Ok, I now. I am guiri. I should shut up. What do I know anyway?

Being a foreigner in Spain, not knowing any Catalan, and just about able to speak a few sentences in Spanish, I came here to the island of Ibiza in 2007, in December. I was not aware of all these underlying conflicts when I first came here. I tried to find my way around this place. I was busy getting my kids into kindergarten and into school. I had to work. And I had to take care of the kids on my own, as my husband was still 1 and a half years in Germany while I already lived here. I was quite alone, kept to myself, but in a still quite male dominated society I was treated like a “soltera” and somehow, people suspected I was. I did not know what to think about it but I was too busy to care.

So many of my friends in Germany shook their heads in despair when they heard where I was going and they asked me “Why on earth are you going there?” (rough translation: this pool of sinners, of depravity, hedonism and sex, drugs and rock’n’roll). I just laughed it off. And hey, now, almost six years later, I still live here. I feel integrated. My husband came down to Spain one and half years later than us because it was more difficult than we thought. Exit personal history.

But one thing really still startles me, especially now that I understand Catalan and speak it fairly well. Why on earth, do my friends who dared me, who induced me, who told me to learn Catalan… Why do they now back down when we are talking about the Catalan Way, the question of Independence??? Why are they the ones I never see when there is some event for the Independence? Why don’t they react when I post something on facebook??? Even though in private, they are fervent defenders of their home, their island, the right to speak their language and their right to vote. What’s up with that?

On the 8th of September, Ibiza also had a small human chain. The press said that there were 300 people. I can safely say that there were little more than 160 people, maybe 200 in the end. So: What’s up with that?

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However, now we come to the second problem, or to the second internal affair, that Spain has to deal with.

2.) The plan and its implementation of the TIL – integrative trilingual language system. This is a brain child of Jose Ramon Bauzà who somehow now seems like a Little Napoleon as he tries to push forward with this seemingly progressive system. So what does the TIL include: Basically it means a reduction of the Catalan and a high increase of the English language, that instead of 50% Catalan and 50% Spanish, the children get their classes in 30% in Catalan, 30% in Spanish and 30% in English.

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Don’t get me wrong. I love English. And for me, it would probably be a piece of cake, but then again… Think about how well or in some cases how not so well the outcome might be. Do they have decent teachers, do they have decent funds to invest in this Project. No. E.g, the school of Sant Miquel (a small village in the north of Ibiza) had placed up a huge bed-throw at the Wall of their school advertising tyhat the Balearic government still owed them a sum of 19,000€. And that is only one school. How so? How are they going to pay for the extra teachers… ??? How are they going to pay for the extra tuition??? For the extra books??? Hahahaha… Ladies and gentlemen. This will be solved Ibiza style, or Mallorca style. That is so easy, if your name is Jose Ramon Bauzà. Basically the answer is you are not getting any of this. Yes, You heard me.

No extra teachers.

No tuition paid.

No funds for books.

No funds for even paying old debts that concerned parents, the school itself or the state.

How on earth can this be a good basis for such a Project that – if it were well planned and well put into practice – not such an idiot thing. However, we are faced with empty wallets, resigned teachers, teachers who fear being menaced by disciplinary punishments and so on. The spirit of the generalissimo is still very much present. That present that the press today showed that Madrid does not want to change the name of Franco because of linguistic reasons. It is scary to see the adoration of a dictator who would have thrived in the amount of fear and repression that is subconsciously planted in the souls of so many, many Spaniards, as well as Catalonians.

And even if the TIL had come out as a proper plan, it would still be an attack against the Catalan language.

Let’s talk about how well are the Balearic Government free to decide what they are doing. There are many, many jokes in the net and one can see on television who is in charge. It is clearly Bauzà himself. Getting rid of a third of his parliament and claiming it was to show respect and the need to cut costs, was a nice excuse to get rid of his opposing forces within his own party. Bauzà has a nice little streak of a mini dictator in him. He may look like an ageing model or a car salesperson but in fact he is very strategic in what he does. Plus he thrives in the power he was given.

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Back to topic. No… I don’t know either. It is scary and it is such a preposterous idea. I am a strong activist for any type of increment of language and literature in school. But the way this is done is just… so, so, excuse me, it is so wrong… We have heard about the proposed system change right before the summer break and even then teachers were saying no. Little did we know back then. Now it is the second week of school and the teachers are still on strike, twitter is full of hashtags that show the support they are getting from so many different places, from so many different people.

So, I hope you know now about what’s going on in Spain and more specifically on the Balearics.

Why did I mix these topics together and added some streaks of personal history to it, even though they only on the surface have something to do with each other?

I would think that there is a deep underlying structure. If Wert called for the fact “españolizar” hispanize the children of Catalonia, then this is actually quite fascistic if not downright fascist.

If speaking Valencian is a crime, and smashing up a government building and disturbing an official act (given you’re rightwing!!!) is a small thing easily forgiven and does fall under the jurisdiction.

If a TV show (on IB3, the local TV station of the Balearics, government funded… ) about the TIL only shows:

– a group of six, all men (not one woman!)

– the majority were lawyers and not education experts

– one teacher, whose forte certainly was not to speak in public

– and without a decent distribution of the time allowed for each side (the defenders of TIL had 7 minutes, the ones against it 2 minutes!!!)

There is slight feeling, that this whole program could have been government sponsored and PP-program aligned. It is just so wrong the way they do a supposedly political program on TV. It was just so previsible.

Personally, I could not believe that there was not one person who was rhetorically able to speak up and up for the challenge.

Conclusion:

In effect, I wrote this blog post here, mainly because I was getting tired of being asked all over the same questions.

What is the TIL?

Why are you so in favor of the Catalonian Independence?

Why are you so Pro-Catalan?

Why are you against the TIL?

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Mainly, I hope to have clarified this issue with the above text. I am a language lover, I do not think that TIL is actually oriented in real life and will promote “fracaso escolar” more than anything else.

My obvious tendency towards the Catalonian Independence derives from the fact that I among other subjects (I majored in languages), I studied history and I think that the free state of the Catalonian people is necessary. Historically it can easily be derived that Catalonia is a state. I could go deeper into history but this would go to far. Also from the point of view that being a repressed nation, the Catalonians deserve to decide for themselves. Psychologically it can be argued as well, when the amount of suffering has been big enough for them that their will for independence outweighs the fear of being defeated. The Catalonians need to try it, I feel also Catalonian, I am one of them, and I wish them, I wish us the best of luck, and I think that Spain would be wise to let them go. Unless they want to have a century long hate relationship with even worse cases of linguistic recriminations and also crimes in the name of the Spanish state which presides everything.

First of all, I know, Catalonia is different, but Ibiza is also different. We work so much with tourism on a daily basis that the idea of reinforcing English in the school system is not the worst idea, but again… The way this is done, is what makes it turn out to be a total disaster or a plan that should be planned and scheduled properly in order to be successful. Please do not implement TIL. It is not worth the trouble it will surely cause. And try to prevent it for the sake of your children!

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So, where do I tie the knot?

Language and culture is like two peas in a pod. They belong together. If you take away the language from a person, in the sense that you make it a crime to speak that language, you steal part of his culture and basically you victimize him.

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Invaders have often done this. The Romans did this. The Greeks did this. The Spaniards did this. No big deal. But this here is the 21st century. I wish for mankind to be as far evolved that they see that you cannot suppress culture and language for a long time. It will stir things up. It will make people rebel.

Those in charge in Madrid, and also our little Napoleon of the Balears, Ramon Bauzà, would be well advised if he saw that denying people to speak their own mother tongue is a crime. It is a direct reference to the military dictatorship of Franco. And to be honest, this in itself gives me the creeps.

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What gives me the creeps even more is that there was a report that they want to reprimand people who speak on facebook, twitter or any online media about things that could cause a public disorder. This is also a step away from a democratic system. Be warned. And be alert that Spain and also the Balearics do not move back in time. This would be fatal.

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I seriously apologize that I could not post the homage to T.S. Eliot whose birthday it is today. But I will take the opportunity to thank you.

What is this post about?

It is about being human, also about how I feel to a certain degree. It is strictly personal. I am not showcasing anyone today. There are no book recommendations, no music recommendations, no other nice culture or society tidbids. Just some wild random thoughts.

I have the feeling that a lot happened in the past twelve months, maybe fourteen months. It really did. And I feel happy, yet also a bit breathless. I cannot stop myself as I seem to have grown fond of this fast-paced rhythm. I really cannot stop right now.

Let’s think we all had a great self esteem which of course in most cases, we don’t. And let’s suppose we were sure of ourselves. Yeah. Right. Then, you probably would not be roaming around the internet. Maybe… the point is… you cannot make everyone happy. Plus you should not need to either.

The most important and only person to make happy and to please is yourself. Trying to be everybody’s darling is so contra productive and so not required. Remember this is 21st century.

There are some things I need to do. Projects in my life a.k.a. someone who is working for a living.

When I wake up, my head is full with ideas, plans, schemes, with things I want to do, things I want to accomplish… That’s my creative side.

But… and here is the but… there is also a quite analytical side to me. That’s the side I turn out when I want to get things done.

Being a creative with analytical skills is in one respect having the best of two worlds, but at the same time, you need to watch out that you don’t get badly labelled.

I set myself some high goals. I really kind of feel this is a good thing to do cos you try to get the best posible you to get going.

Trouble is that aspiring people are often mistaken for people who do not know their place. They are often seen as troublemakers or the like sometimes.

They are also mistaken for dreamers or delusional people. Being visionary has got its downsides.

Being someone who can view further than others is always viewed critical… especially when people see that you want to get ahead.

They are also mistaken for being short-fused, irritable, which is nonsense. They just have a higher amplitude than other people.

I am not saying that I am the victim of some conspiracy plot, and I’m not saying either that I expect people to like me. I seem to be an agreeable carácter but that’s not the point. What I do think is that sometimes it does get on my nerve, that people, out of the sheer inability to place you, to find a pigeon hole for your personality, they label you as being strange, or “out of this world”, they create rumours behind your back, they slagg you off, try to make you look stupid, like you were acting kind of silly, kind of obsessed, or whatever.

This is the actually just the opposite of what should happen. And in it, we find the true nature of what is called: discrimination. Not wanting to see someone like he or she really is but superimposing a new kind of image and at the same time ridiculing that person, dehumanizing him/her.

What if this were a human rights’ court. Would you argue differently? Would you see the predicament of the judge? Would you understand to measure your step?

I can only say that today I did learn a lot – about myself, about human nature in general, but also about the limits of communication. Even though the day started out pretty bad, I seem to have found a way around it.

The key why I started this post is simply I don’t like to come across as someone who is always complaining, cos I’m not. I’ve been through some tough shit, and I tend to keep my innermost thoughts to myself as long as I possibly can. That was a survival technique, no kidding, no pun intended. But when I actually open up, and say something, I do not want to end up feeling like “shit”, that’s great. Another misunderstanding.

The trouble of getting a false or erroneous message, or a message that basically troubles you more than it helps, will surely add to more confusion, to losing faith and  finally as a by product, things get harder, and eventually, communication capsizes. People clam up again… It is natural.

Whenever I see something that bugs me, I will write about it, I will be candid about it, and that’s nothing to do with being too stressed, too obsessed, or too highly strung… It is just my nature, and full stop.

But someone who wants to give me the impression that I should relax, take things easy and while tomorrow and the day after and so on things will come my way, I have the tendency to either clench my teeth or become bad-humoured… because it means that the sheer act in defying this archetypal pattern, the prime task is achieved. Don’t ever tell someone, let alone a woman, they should relax unless you want to see full-on state of being completely un-relaxed/panicky/distressed or even crazy… It is just triggering something unwanted. Women function differently.

But if I see something that bugs me I need to let it out. Come rain or come shine.

Orwell –  a dystopian writer or a socio-realist?

Down and Out in Paris and London” was the first book Orwell ever wrote and therefore it demands some special attention. He wrote it in 1933.

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Who was George Orwell? He was born Eric Arthur Blair 110 years ago, on June 25th 1903. He died on January 21st, 1950, some 46 years later. To me, Orwell has always been an important touchstone, a true pleasure to read since he is different in as much as he combines some traits I find important for any writers: will for social and political justice, very clear language, intelligence, sharp observation, wit and accuracy in the depiction of social realities.

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I’ve read him ever since I was little and funnily enough, at school, we read 1984, just in the year of 1984, when I was 13. Yes, it did make a huge impact on me. I cannot say anything else. We discussed the book. We wrote essays on it. We saw the movie 1984. It was a blatant attack against totalitarianism. That much was clear. And for a classroom with a lot of rebellious hormones flying around, Orwell was just right in showing us what society would be if we allowed ourselves to be let astray. Everyone in class including the teacher was sure that there would never be any similar surrounding, that everything depicted in the book, was pretty much a dark pessimistic fantasy, way out, and that basically this was a dystopia which would never happen.

Now about 30 years later, I am not so sure anymore. I find that Orwell had the unusual talent of absorbing very slight historical tendencies and thinking them till the bitter end and turning it into fiction. Orwell’s fiction is never just fiction. It is a moral signpost that says “Don’t go there. It might happen if you don’t watch out.” On the other hand, he wrote a lot about what happened in real life. He was in no way a writer in his ivory tower. He was pretty much connected and set in the real life of his time and confronted with real-life problems. “His work is marked by clarity, intelligence and wit, awareness of social injustice, opposition to totalitarianism, and commitment to democratic socialism.” That’s what Wikipedia says, and I solidly agree with that.

Orwell. The dystopian writer, the social critic

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There are many books by George Orwell, well worthwhile reading which are hard to come by because of course, 1984 and Animal Farm are the evergreens and the bestsellers that cannot be surpassed.

Retracing his steps, we find that he was basically a middle upper lower middle class son, who was born in India, grew up in Burma, living a privileged life within a well bred family. But as he grew older, and after having returned to Europe, he seemed to have been a wandering spirit. He tried out multiple ways in order to live, he had something inside him, a search of something else, a weariness of everyday life about him. Something that made him seek out adventures. He led an unusual life. Orwell wrote his first book with the title “Down and out in Paris and London” (1933) which I would like to recommend today with all my heart.

In a nutshell, it is a desolate depiction of what the social reality for poor people, for people out of a regular existence, jobless, homeless, sometimes vagabonds and basically impoverished people must have been like. The daily search to get by on a minimum of money is shown with a pinch of salt. It is not someone who is crying into his bowl of water-soup at the workhouse. There is nothing that resembles rage or an accusation against the state or the state of things in there. It just shows the reality of what things were like. Without commenting as much on it. That is Orwell’s English side. And this is what made me have goose pimples all over when I first read the book at 20. It was hair-raising. The cruelty and the sometimes really very harsh if not brutal realities are depicted in a very formal and sometimes offhand manner. It is something hard to digest at first. But that way, the reader gets to the bottom of things, to the places where Orwell leads him, to the darkest corners in pre-war Paris and pre-war London. The reader must ask himself what made Orwell endure all of this. He wanted to be a first-hand narrator. He did not want to narrate the hell of others, of vagabonds, he first wanted to endure it so he could write his books with a totally different stance. Today, we might call him an investigative journalist. Yes, but Orwell was more than that. He was a critic in his way not to criticize anything but depicting every cruel detail of what happens to poor people and what happens if you get to the point where you lose your job, you home and your social framework. Something which in the nineteen-thirties must have been something not so easy to endure.

Another very good book by Orwell is “Burmese Days” where Orwell actually lets us in on the secrets of his upbringing in the colonies. It is an eye opener. Truly recommended.

All in all, I can only recommend George Orwell again and again. I know, that 1984 is a must read for many classes (at school as well at university) but it rightly is so. As well as Animal Farm has become a total classic. However, Down and Out in Paris and London, as well as Burmese Days and his collected Essays should find more readers, the way I see it.

Orwell was a bright man, with a vision.

Ending this post, I would like to point out that in fact, the more I think about it, the more I feel that Orwell is a more than a modern classic, he is a post-modern writer, someone to foresee something sinister that was about to happen. Let’s us all see to it that we can make this dystopia stop before Big Brother and the thought police become reality.

I wonder what Orwell would write if he was alive today.

Ok, no cuddling this time. No time for that. Straight full sex. Or said in other words: medias in res. I’ve really had it this week. Maybe, it’s the lunar constellation, maybe it’s fate, maybe it’s kismet, karma, call it whatever you like, but I’ve had so many weird experiences and no-go situations this week that I’ve seriously had it when thinking about the time I’m losing due to the negligence and poor behaviour of other people’s behaviour. My pain threshold has been pushed and scraped past or also being plainly crossed many times.

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I won’t go into details because this is personal, but fact is when you can’t keep an appointment for whichever reason (whether you did not like the appointment in the first place, whether you thought otherwise, whether the moon was in a bad constellation for you, maybe your chakra was out of tune, your cat was sick, or you were sick, or the whole idea was sick) it basically does not matter. What matters is you inform people when you are not coming. It is simple as that: this is basic. If on the other hand, you don’t find informing someone who came to see you helpful, so this other person does not know that you have no intention of seeing them, it is common knowledge this is basically downright rude behaviour and, basically, even by today’s low standards absolutely inacceptable unless you willingly want to annoy someone (in which case, bravo, this is way to go). Maybe I am naive, maybe I am still believing in Santa Claus, it does not matter. I basically tend to believe people what they say. This does make me vulnerable, and maybe I am an easy prey too for some people. I can see the downside in this behaviour of mine clearly. So maybe it was about time that I got shaken up a bit to make it clear that this time around, I need to adjust my asshole threshold level a bit… But on second thoughts, I really don’t want that. Yes. I am a sensitive person and I seriously want to stay that way. I don’t want to adjust myself to make myself less sensitive because some other people aren’t sensitive enough.

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Don’t get me wrong. This is not an ego trip. This post is so not about me, this is basically about how society is changing and why I find it difficult dealing with some of its worst outcomes. This is about the way in which so many people have morphed in terms of behaviour. It is so sad. It is seriously breaking my heart. I don’t like what I see. But beware that you don’t criticize this. Otherwise you are the weirdo forever and ever.

I might be a weirdo to some. Still… I am pretty clear on this one. Society is what people consent to make it. In other words, society is the product of all our commonground behaviour. And if this rude, insensitive, and pretty much asshole like behaviour is cementing itself as being acceptable then we don’t need to make any moral claims to the future… That will be a redundancy. This is the 101 of human behaviour. And it is slowly but surely getting lost.

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Everyone who I told this story, basically just shrugged and asked me “what do you want?”… “People are like this today.” No, I am sorry, they are most certainly not like that. I deny the possibility and I also resist the temptation of verifying it. The people I chose to deal with are my circle and in my circle I demand a certain standard, and the most basic understanding to me is that if you cannot make an appointnment, you at least pick up a phone and cancel. This is like the 101 your mum or your dad ought to have told you when you were little. And if not, hey, it’s still time to learn.

I am so sick of this shit. In Ibiza standards do tend to get lowered by the watering down of boundaries, by the mixing of different cultures and different standards.

So, I am going to tell you guys which kind of behaviour is really totally unacceptable:

1) not cancelling an appointment, and basically being a “no-show” – highly penalised in my book, I am dead serious. There are thousands of ways: phone, email, facebook, whatsapp, twitter (or even excusing oneself through a third person, even though this is pretty iffy… but at least it’s something)

2) being extremely late and not excusing oneself. I am not talking about the socalled academic 15 minutes. I am talking about serious time here.

3) not answering one’s emails – also not really courteous, respectful or nice… can be excused in some cases, but basically is neither welcome nor promising either.

4) Being closed-minded. Being hard of hearing in a metaphorical sense. Be a good listener – it does make such a big difference as people generally don’t want to listen anymore. They just want to tell things. The most challenging thing today seems to be to have an open ear for someone. I try it every day. And believe me, it is so rewarding. Whenever I do it, I feel I am being me, I learn sometimes something from doing it, and I get one step closer to being the kind of human being I aspire to be.

5) saying please and thank you in general… I feel terrible even having to write this down. But there are so many cases each and every day where I feel inclined to slap some people’s faces… and it just seems so normal to be impolite that you feel weird even being polite. And this is just soooo wrong… to me, this would go without saying that of course, you need to say thank you but there seems to be a tendency that some people might find this acceptable. I personally find this kind of thank you is very important as a motivation factor and therefore and also out of sheer courtesy ought to be said. However, society as well as their benchmarks are changing.

6) To be honest, truthful and still be polite, this seems to be today a contradiction in terms as it is. Either people slap you in the face verbally or they suck up to you. But you rarely get a moment of truth which is even made sweeter by someone who is actually capable of serving you some truth in a polite and understandable form. This is such a dying species. Please don’t become extinct. It is so important to have true friends who will tell you things, important things and still be able to remain your friends because they might do it in such a way that you can actually learn from each other. This is something I totally miss these days. There are hardly any people around who combine both properties.

7) Be moderate. People tend to brag about themselves so much. Where is moderation and modesty gone? I sometimes don’t believe the exaggerations I tend to hear. Basically, this means that you need to reduce everything you hear by someone from outside your circles by a certain ratio. This is truly exhausting. Actually, you could even say… that lying is becoming trendy.

8) Being helpful. This is again a dying species in mankind. DO not always think first in the good someone else can do for you. Think first and foremost in the relation that you might be having with any given person. See the person. Do not see them directly as a competitor, as an enemy, as someone who might steal your show. This actually is so annoying.

9) Be respectful. I know there are a lot of moments when I lose my temper and I might also not be overly respectful to some people and I feel ashamed for it. But the mainstream of today’s world seems to be – the less respectful you are, the farther you get. This is bullshit. Try learning, try studying, try outsmarting people. That’s the way to go. And don’t think you’re better than someone else. First of all, it is all relative. Secondly, respect your fellow men. And thirdly, does it really matter?

10) Be kind. Kindness is something I am really missing big time in the new century. Kindness used to be all around. And the past 12 or thirteen years or so I have the feeling that kindness is often mistaken for weakness. As if kind people could not be strong… Or that tough people need to be unkind and therefore they show their real tough nature. This is so wrong. That’s again skindeep.

11) Don’t judge people. Who are you to judge someone else?

12) Don’t insult or write flame-mails to people. I am serious. This is the worst. Things are somewhat seriously getting out of hand. It went that far that I did not want to open my email account but I can only say. There are lessons to be learnt here. I don’t know which ones yet.

I am so not a preacher. And I don’t want to be one either. But I needed to vent in this case. And be sure, I know, I am so not in the position to preach anyone either. I do a lot of wrong things my end, believe me. But, at least, I am aware of it and I try to mend, I try to become better, someone nice and someone I would truly love to meet. If this were the maxim, if this were the bottom line, then we all could not go wrong. If we all became just a little the people we ourselves would love to meet in the street, at the school meeting, in the press conference, in the board meeting, at the music concert, at the gas station.

Little changes. If everyone does their bit, we all might get along better, and this little could go a long way.

 

 

I would really love to get feedback on this one here. How do you feel about the way that society is changing slowly into?

Rhyan Paul – interview from May 1st / plus repeat interview May 17th

Question 1 : When did you come to to this isle and why? Was there any kind of trigger / key story?

I came to Ibiza after moving back from Miami… A friend of mine was already living there and it felt like a good place to visit and I immediately fell in love with the place. It was 2002. And that was it. I was hooked.

Rhyan Paul in the magic realm of Es Vedra

Rhyan Paul in the magic realm of Es Vedra

 

 
Question 2 : Please recall your personal Ibiza story and describe, what to you is the magic of this isle? What is your life like here?

I guess my Ibiza story is one of luck. I moved back from Miami. I decided that I wanted to live in Ibiza obviously. And it was kind of hooked up for me thru Gerry Kelly who used to run Pacha back in the day… he linked me with Brasilio from la Troya. And Brazilio linked me with the guys that were doing Amanda at Amnesia and they linked me linked me Armin Van Buuren… I ended up getting the job of promotions director for Armada night at amnesia. So – Pretty lucky, really. I guess to me the magic… of the island is just the island itself. It’s so diverse. You got everything, the spirituality, Es Vedra, and Atlantis, all the way thru hedonistic clubs, the slums of San Antonio, through to the beauty of the San Mateo valley it just goes on… it is all just a beautiful really.

 

Question 3: Is it just you or are you a couple / family?

Well it is my family – Me and my wife, Melissa. I spend more time here than Mel. She is the marketing director for Box TV… So she is in the UK, in London. But my Ibiza family is here. Family does not have to be blood relatives. And my family is Ibiza.

Question 4: Who or what did lure you to live in Ibiza?

I’ve already answered this one really. The lure for me just was the beautiful island: The people, the music, the lifestyle. And obviously the fact that, well, there was a job offered!

Question 5: Despite which “urban legends” / misconceptions did you come to Ibiza? When did you find that they were misconceptions?

Misconceptions. I guess, the main one is the one that everybody thinks that Ibiza is one big, fat, hedonistic, drug filled, filthy, chav ridden hellhole. You know… And it is not. There is just San Antonio, and a couple of clubs down in San Rafael and Playa den Bossa. The rest is beautiful untouched, just stunning scenery. And beautiful Ibicencans. That was the misconception that I was most happy not to be true. Without a doubt, I remember. Actually, when you visit… the island is completely different to when you live there. I remember driving down through France and I got completely fucking lost and somehow I ended up in Germany. Strange. I tried speaking Spanish to Germans and was not getting very far.
Eventually I made it to Denia and got the ferry, and you know, just getting off the ferry, at Ibiza port. Straight into Ibiza town and being in IBIZA! So the farmhouse we were renting, was somewhere near in San Rafael. So I headed for San Rafael. Down the road, down a camino, down the track, wow, we were in the middle of fucking nowhere. And I thought well: This is heaven. That is the misconception, that Ibiza is a drugs filled hellhole… And it is really not.

Question 6 : What was probably the most beautiful experience you ever had on this isle?

The most beautiful experience I’ve had in Ibiza? There have been a lot. There are the stereotypical beautiful experiences. The cheesy ones… sunrise & sunsets at Es Vedra… Sunset at Benirras with the drumming. But there have been other… beautiful experiences… Just finding hidden nuggets of the island…there is a particular little cove in San Mateu, where you walk through a forest and down to an ocean cove, that is pretty stunning … everyday something beautiful and equally something shitty happens as well. . Meeting people, meeting Ibicencans. When you try and speak a little bit of Spanish and they kind of try back. They kind of embrace you for not being a typical chavvy tourist when they realize you are a resident who cares for the Island.

Question 7: What was probably the most horrible experience you ever had on this isle?

Most horrible experience? Gotta be, without a doubt, (hesitating) Having to live in San Antonio for two months, in the height of season… because my contract on the house I was renting in ran out. And I lived in the Tanit building, facing into the Westend. It was just fucking vile. That is the only words I can use to describe it. Just, seriously. Actually, it makes me feel ashamed to be British anyway. I fucking hate Brits abroad! Guys, you… know, you are not doing yourselves any favours… Girls, seriously, you do need to wear shorts or a dress after dark, really, a tiny swimsuit at night with that ass? Guys – I know you’ve been to the gym, I know you look great, but you know what, need to work your legs as well as your upper body. It’s just wrong. Personally, I’ve got nothing against San An. And actually there are some great places in San an. Casa Thai for instance, The marina, there are some beautiful bars, you’ve got Sunsea bar, back in the day you had Kanya, you’ve got Café del mar, you’ve got Mambo’s, it’s just the people that seem to want to go there. So, that is repeatedly the most horrible experience…

Question 8 : On a scale of 1 to 10 (1 – horrible, 10 – super) how would you rate your stay in Ibiza?

On a scale from 1-10 how to rate my stay in Ibiza? It’s off the fucking scale, dude…. It’s out in the stratosphere.

Question 9: Something has changed throughout the past 40 years. Who in your mind is destroying the isle?

Destroying the island? Damn, it’s a bit a political one really. It’s a double-edged sword. It really is a tricky one. You know what they are doing to Playa den Bossa? The super complex, the golf course, Ushuaia towers, and Ushuaia everything else, and then what they are going to do the same in San An, you know the bit of wasteland, where 1-2-3 (interviewer: the music festival 1-2-3 in 2012 where Lenny Kravitz played in Ibiza) was so that will be Ushuaia San Antonio and all the new roads, it’s making this island this commercial fucking hellhole. (Raising his voice)
But the flipside is that it’s bringing money to the island and you gotta be progressive, and Ushuaia is an amazing club experience. And Playa den Bossa needs regeneration. So – It’s tricky. I guess The purist in me and the purist in many people would like to see a place of beautiful innocence, you Pacha, Amnesia, and Ku, which is now Privilege, and everything open air still, you know, just peace love and unity. Amazing sex, amazing people. And amazing drugs. Superstars everywhere. And that’s great, that’s fine… But Unfortunately, things change. It’s up to decide to the guy on the street to decide whether it’s for the better or worse. Personally, I think the new roads are a god send. Saves me load in suspension repairs. So… yeah… Bit on the fence with this one.

Question 10: Who / what movement / what remedy do you think can save the isle?

What remedy could we use to save the island? We gotta be more eco, man. Everybody has to. Not just Ibiza, the world over. We are raping and fucking this world in the ass, you know and on the daily basis. We can’t seem to see it. We need to be more green, man, have more sustainability. We need to be environmentally aware and not just friendly. But: Aware of what we are doing. We need to stop thinking, to bringing cars to Ibiza … and fucking up the eco system and the ocean. We can’t be doing this. Everybody has got to do something. But the problem is. The smallest thing – if everyone did it – would make the biggest difference. For example – If we all turned off the light for one hour a day, massive fucking difference to the world. But no one is gonna do it. You know, I am not gonna do it. Because the guy next door is not. And: Thus it goes on. Everybody please just do a little bit. You know what?
Grow some veg. And I don’t want hear all this bullshit. …Oh, I live in a high rise. Get a window box. Grow some training tomatoes, grow some cucumbers, grow some strawberries. If everybody grew just a little bit of everything, then the impact of the amount of suffering that has been brought to the island would be lessened.
Eat less meat, we don’t need all the meat. Eat less sugar, eat less sweets. Just I don’t know. I guess. Take a little back the way we used to live 40 or 50 years ago.
Just think people. It’s not gonna be here forever. It’s all very well and good, now, you’re saying that, it’s someone else s problem.
You won’t be saying that when you are trying to put out the flames out on your kids back because the ozone’s layer is gone.
Question 11: Why does Ibiza still enchant / hypnotize / draw so many people from so many countries after all this time?

Why does Ibiza still hypnotize so many people? (Speaking in a funny voice) That’s because I am a fucking hypnotist baby! (Stop funny voice) But apart from that: because of its uniqueness. Because it is a uniquely beautiful place. It’s got something for everybody. I am not a spiritual person… at all, but you know what, you land on the island and there is just this sense of calm that washes over you. I drive in from the airport. Driving up towards to San Josep. Once you get to the country, it’s calm… You know: It’s kind of like: A sense of Ibiza that washes over you. It enchants so many people because for such a long time it’s been this magical island. That people are in debt to. When I was living in Miami, we did a night called Naive. South Beach Ibiza Style. And it rocked! We was bringing the flavour of Ibiza to America. There were not real flights to Ibiza at the time, at least not affordable ones. It is a magical and enchanted island. And as long as we can keep the status quo, of super clubs, super nights, and idyllic beauty, then it will keep its allure.

Naive - Miami South Beach clubbing Ibiza Style

Naive – Miami South Beach clubbing Ibiza Style

Question 12: What is the worst misconception about Ibiza in existence?

What is the worst misconception? – That Ibiza is called the White isle, because the amount of cocaine here. It is actually called the White isle because of the amount of salt… which if you do buy drugs in one of the clubs, is what you are probably buying. €50 for a gram of salt!

Question 13: If you were the mayor of Ibiza for one month, what changes would you immediately order? Tell us at least 3 things you would really like to change.

If I was the mayor of Ibiza for a month, wow, how amazing would that be? I would hang on, first of all, I would ring fence San Antonio, no, I wouldn’t. Well, maybe I would. What would I do? Going back to sustainability… I would enforce that people had to grow their own stuff… That people would have to look around them, and try to make a change on the island. Make a difference on the island. You don’t need to use your car all the time. You don’t need to take your car from shop to shop… You don’t need a car. Walk, use public transport, get a bike. I think, I would not enforce it… (except for bringing fences to San Antonio) because that’s fascist. But, um, I would just push awareness. There is an old saying in the UK – You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink. That’s pretty much the same everywhere all over. You can’t make people do things unless you are using the veiled threats. Well: Just awareness. Well, if they do not comply… Just fucking shoot them. No, no, that’s all cool. Tickle them until they pee themselves instead!

 

Question 14: If one of your close friends were to migrate to Ibiza would you encourage them or try to change their mind?

Just ask them… why did you leave us alone…? Plain and simple.

 

Rhyan Paul back in the day with his mates

Rhyan Paul back in the day with his mates

Question 15: Which months are your favorite ones? And why.

Which are my favourite months? I guess when you live here your fave months have to be, October, November, December, January, February, March, April. Simply because That’s when residents get the island back. That’s when the island is returned to the residents and the Ibicencans. It’s more beautiful, it’s quiet. That’s when you find the bars that you did not know existed, little local hang outs. You can go to Can Tixedo and you don’t hear a single English voice. Pacha is cool, because it’s not full of sweaty men and nasty ladies…It’s just a beautiful time.
Whereas when you are a tourist, the best months are June, July, August and September…
And summer is cool as well. I enjoy it all year round. But As I’ve gotten older, I think it’s out of season. More personal and it’s just more beautiful.

Rhyan Paul in Pacha partying hard...

Rhyan Paul in Pacha partying hard…

 

Question 16: Do you speak Catalan?

Do I speak Catalan? I don’t even speak fucking English properly… I’m learning Spanish. I’ve been learning Spanish… (Since I’ve lived in America. It’s a bit embarrassing) I’ve been learning Spanish for 15 years. I can definitely order a café. With or without sugar. (Laughing)
More seriously: No, I don’t speak Catalan… And I am pretty embarrassed about it. I am pretty shit at learning languages.
Once the Spanish cracked, then I am definitely gonna learn Catalan.

Question 17: Which public personality / VIP did you see / meet / speak to so far and what do you think about it – impressed or annoyed or … ?

Work in Music industry as an artist manager, I’ve met a few VIP’s (I use the term loosely) and personalities I think one if the nicest, was Armin van Buuren. The guy is so nice, so friendly, so cool. His wife was just so lovely to be around. Nice and wholesome people. Really down to earth. Mike and Claire (Manumission) are pretty cool cats as well. Got to interview them, when they had the office in the Vara De Rey in 2005.

(Comment of the interviewer: Yes, Mike and Claire from Manumission, they are!!! I think it’s actually a good idea to do an interview with them… Actually, if you read this Claire, it’s been ages, let’s get together sometime. <3)

Question 18: Do you have friendships outside your language circles and how would you rate these friendships in their importance?

Yeah. I’ve got friends outside my language circles. And they are pretty important ones too. We learn off each other. All of my friends are perversely enjoyable… I think it’s great, I think it is really important to have friends outside your language circle. I have a lot of friends all over the world. I’ve got Hispanic, Ibicencan, French, German ones, the world is a small place now, you know. We can all have friends outside our language circles. (funny voice) If we could all just get along!

Question 19: Do you have Ibizenco friends? Do you find them any different to friends from your country? What do you think makes them tick?

I… Are my Ibicencan friends any different…? Yeah, they do strange things… They go out for dinner at midnight… Or sleep all afternoon… Which is cool unless you want to go to the bank, go to a lawyer, do anything that involves anything necessary. What makes them tick? Beautiful sunshine, beautiful people, beautiful food. We are here in Ibiza. There is always a reason to get out …

Question 20: Did it take you long to get used to the Ibizenco lifestyle? Are there still some things you can still not understand / relate to

Oh my gosh… Wait a minute. Everything closes at 1-5. But I need to do my banking. The eating at midnight. The most crazy thing is that Locals don’t go clubbing until 4 or 5… in the morning… There is a hardcore few there… yeah, it did take a while… The driving on the wrong side of the road… I had a few hairy moments there. I got to find out about the local police as well. Just how pleasant how nice they can kind of NOT be…

(Rhyan, what about that strip searching incident you told me about? 😉 Ok, we leave that in the uncut version then… 😉 )
Question 21: If your house / flat was on fire, which three things (not people) would you grab and get out?

Actually gonna change what I said originally. My Apple laptop my life’s is on it, Polo a teddy bear that I’ve had ver since I was a child. It kind of looks like a zombie now. One of his ears fell off and got hoovered up, that was kind of heart breaking So I would take my laptop, the teddy bear with no ears and my Swiss army knife.
Question22: If someone told you you had to leave the isle, you would…

If someone told me I had to leave the island? I would tell them to go and fuck themselves. Plain and simple.

Question 23: Ibiza changed a lot within the last ten (twenty, thirty) years insofar as… (please finish)

Ibiza changed a lot in the last 10, 20, 30 years… Ibiza has changed a lot in as much as the clubs have roofs on them. There are a lot more people. What maybe happened is a little bit of the heart of the island died. In so much as the innocence of Ibiza kind of has been raped just a little bit… so that’s not so cool.

Question 24: I love / loathe Ibiza… (please finish)

I love Ibiza… because it is what it is. I love it because it is constantly evolving and changing. And equally…
I loathe it because … it is constantly evolving and changing.

Question 25: Tanit is the godmother of Ibiza and it’s protective goddess because… (please finish)

I did a little bit of homework since we last spoke. Tanit is a mother of the water… Tanit brings life, fertility, purification and magnetic flow. For a bloke, Bez, it is all what it is all about. Bez is looking after me. For me, he is the god of sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll. Fuck it. It’s Friday night. Let’s have it. Let’s do it. We are gonna rock and roll all night baby.

Rhyan_paul_suit

Thank you so much Rhyan! It was a pleasure talking to you.

 

Uh, in case you were wondering, how come I got such a marvellously crazy interview from Rhyan Paul, just remember this: The guy’s a hypnotist…

Here is how it all started…

Look me in the eyes. Look straight into my eyes.

Don’t look around the eyes, don’t look around the eyes, you are under.

😉

Ok. I am pretty new to the game. In my late twenties I did some half hearted attempts. But now I really mean it. My book is written. Now I need a publisher.
I got three letters of rejections this week.
I am really crushed. I feel done for. I don’t need much more of this.
Some don’t even state a reason.
And they don’t need to. As the decision itself shows that you as a writer did not cut it. That your book is presumably just garbage.
You end up feeling like you’ve fallen into a deep pit.

The silent treatment.
To me it’s the worst.
Bad for me.
Really bad.
Worst blow for a weak self-esteem.

I hope I will pick myself up again.
At some point.
Right now I just feel like … shit …suicide

the author who will never happen.

Suicide and bullying / The breasts of Angelina Jolie – truth and nothing but the truth please

This is going to be an article that is dual. I wanted to write about suicide and bullying, so I will. But another thing that has recently been on my mind was the case of Mrs Angelina Jolie who showed some breast cancer awareness or at least tried to shock people out of their lethargy by communicating about her drastic move to have both her breast glands and breast tissue removed to prevent a very rare form of hereditary cancer. I will get back to that later. I promise.

Suicide and Bullying will come up soon. There is a sad reason behind it. Very recently, a Young man of 20 was found dead (I won’t go into details out of respect for the relatives of this Young man) in the Sant Mateu / Sant Miquel area. This is a very quiet and rural area. You can find sheep here, orange and olive trees. You can walk through some wooden areas, climb some small hills, but one thing which is really difficult in that area is to feel not at ease when you step outside and take a walk. It is the best anti-depressant I would say. The more shocking I found it when the Young man first was missed… Then his friends organised a search with GPS and what not, but then his lifeless corpse was found. It is very sad indeed. Rumour has it that he was suffering from heartbreak. This is a very typical age, and a very typical reason to commit suicide. Don’t think I was making fun of this. I am dead serious. I have had the bad luck to be around suicidal people quite often, and some of the early signs, some of the things they say before the go, this is something you never quite forget. THe thing is… Suicide is something nobody likes to talk about.

suicide

And it is true why should we? We are the winners, we are the survivors. We are the ones that keep a brave face, keep a stiff upper lip until sometimes that lip starts to tremble and we fail in life. And some of us feel more lonely, more lost, more caught up in their situation than others. And yes, you guessed right. How can she know? Yes, I have been in the situation before. I too have been contemplating it more than once. The thing with suicide is you don’t do it at one. There are very rare cases that people have a very short fuse and they have something bad happen to them and they go out and kill themselves. No. It does not work like that.

You have one bad thing happen to you. You keep going. You have the second thing coming. You swallow. You keep going. THere seems to be a collection of bad things that may happen to you. And each and everyone is different. But depending on your personal pain and suffering threshold you may react differently. And that’s human. THe thing is when people talk, when people tell you that they are contemplating suicide it is high time to keep a good eye on them. Chances are that this is not the first time they have thought about it. Then, you start to think about how to kill yourself.

suicide-kills

I don’t want to make this a macabre dance of death blog post. I do believe that we need much more awareness on suicide. I remember that when I was 10 I was first confronted with a a-level student who threw himself before an incoming train. That was gruesome, traumatic and the teachers just told us because they were taught to be honest with us. I of course never quite understood at the time why this always smiling nice and educated student killed himself.

So, there is another thing. Suicide does not mean, that there is a person wearing black, it can just as well be someone you would not in the least suspect to be suicidal. It all depends on their coping mechanisms.

suicide2

Suicide does not mean you are weak.

It basically means you have been strong for a way too long time.

There are lots of boring statistics about suicide. That most suicides are committed by men. The highest suicide rates we have in adolescent males, followed by Young men. Young women are right behind men and now catching up. Sad story.

Please. Whenever you see someone who is shutting up. Who does not talk anymore. Who does not play his/her favourite band, who is giving away things, and saying goodbye to people, who is telling things like “… would be better without me”, do take that serious.

Lastly, I can only say. Even an area like the Sant Miquel or Sant Mateu area is just another microcosm of the big macrocosm earth, so of course, we have suicides too. Maybe not as many, because the absolute numbers are much smaller, but then again, a human life is a human life.

And if you can save one life, do it.

Do it now. Do it tomorrow. Do it whenever. But do it.

Be there for someone. Be someone who is listening. Be someone who is not turning away.

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