מזה? פוסט בעברית?

פוסט על פסח צריך להיות בעברית. נכון שקצת מאוחר אבל בכל מקרה.

חבר טוב סיפר לי על משהו שכתובב בקבלה. זה התחיל בשיחה בה הוא אמר שהוא התחיל לשמור חמץ וכו' כי הוא רואה בזה מסורת שצריך לשמר. אני לא אוהב את פסח ולא אוהב את המסורות שלו, ואני מעדיף להתעלם מהן. לא, אני לא מתכוון להפסיק להגיע לסדר, ואני אשתדל לעשות משהו גם במשפחה העתידית שלי, אבל אני מוכן לגעת יותר במצות.

קצת זלגתי. לאחר שיחה לא ארוכה בנושא, כי שנינו די חולקים את הדעה שמסורת זה לא דת ולכן כל אחד צריך לקחת את כללי המסורת שהוא כן חושב לנכון לקיים. אני עושה מה שנוח לי.

ואז הוא סיפר לי על מה כתוב בקבלה. אני לא יודע איפה זה מופיע ואני לא מתכוון לחפש מקורות, אני רק רוצה לשתף רעיון.

יציאת מצרים. יציאה מעבדות לחופש. התנגדות לפרעה הרשע, ועשרת המכות. בקבלה אומרים שמה שההגדה מנסה להעביר לנו הוא בעצם הרבה יותר עמוק מזיכרון יציאת מצרים לעומק הדורות.

היציאה מעבדות לחירות בעצם מתייחסת לצורך של האדם לצאת ממסגרות הנוקשות, לברוח מהשעימום והניוון למקום יותר מהנה ועמוק. כולנו מחפשים משמעות לחיים, וההגדה מנסה לעודד אותנו ולהגיד לנו שזה בסדר, אתם עושים את הדבר הנכון. כל אחד מתחיל ממצב של עבדות, והשאיפה היא לצאת לחופש. אפשר לפרש את העבדות בתור כל דבר בחיים שלנו שאנו דובקים בו אבל הוא מזיק לנו בצורה כלשהי. עבודה משעממת, קשר מזיק, הרגלים רעים כמו עצלנות או גרגרנות, וכו'.

פרעה הוא האויב הפנימי - התת מודע שלנו שהתרגל להרגלים ולמצבים המזיקים, ולא נותן לנו לצאת מהם, אפילו אחרי שהבטיח שישחרר אותנו, ואחרי שסבל 10 מכות. אפילו אחרי שהחלטנו שאנו רוצים לעשות זאת, להתנתק מדברים שהתרגלנו אליהם לאחר מספר לא קטן של שנים זה לא עניין פשוט, שלוקח הרבה זמן. הרצון שלנו להשתנות ולצאת מהבאר השחורה צריך להיות אמיתי, עמוק וחזק. להגיד שאנחנו רוצים משהו זה לא לרצות. יכול להיות שאנחנו אומרים את זה רק בכדי לרצות מישהו אחר, או אפילו את התת מודע שלנו.

ארבעים שנה במדבר - רק הדור החדש הגיע לארץ המובטחת. רק העצמות של משה נכנסו למדינת אברהם אבינו. תלאות וקשיים, ומעשים על אנושיים כמו חציית ים סוף. השינוי הזה, היציאה ממצב רע ולא רצוי, יכול לקחת אפילו כמה שנים טובות. כבר דיברתי על זה בפסקה הקודמת. בדרך למצב החדש, אנחנו צריכים לשנות את כל ההרגלים שלנו, או את המצב הקיים. נאלץ לעשות מעשים שנראים לנו בלתי אפשריים, דברים שלא היינו מוכנים לעשות בשום אופן לפני תחילת התהליך. בסוף התהליך, אפילו אם הוא להתפטר מעבודה לא בריאה, רוב הסיכויים הם שכבר לא נכיר את עצמנו, וזאת לטובה.

ומי זה אלוהים בכל הסיפור הזה? מי זה שעושה את כל המעשיים העל אנושיים ומכווין ומלמד את עם ישראל כל הדרך? יש אנשים שלא מאמינים באלוהים. דעתי האישית היא שאי אפשר להוכיח או להפריך את היותו. רוב האנשים מאמינים שהם מסוגלים לעשות את השינוי הזה לבד, שאין אף אחד שיכול להבין אותם, או שהם לא מוכנים לשתף אף אחד. בסופו של דבר אנחנו צריכים להבין שתמיד יש מישהו שייבין אותנו במאה אחוז, וירצה ויוכל לעזור לנו, ואף יעשה זאת אם נבקש. משפחה, חברים קרובים, אנשי מקצוע, תבחרו. אל תעשו את זה לבד. הדברים שהם ילמדו אותכם או הדברים שתלמדו על עצמיכם בגלל איזה מילה שהם זרקו יכולים להיות השפעה עצומה. מצד שני, תהיו סקפטים. אל תיישמו כל דבר שאומרים לכם ותלמדו להבחין בפסיכולוגיה בשקל (כמו הפוסט הזה). תקשיבו, תחשבו על זה, ורק אם זה נראה לכם הגיוני ואתם סומכים על המקור, תפעלו.

יש עוד המון הקבלות כאלה שניתן לעשות. אבל אני אתן לכם לחשוב ולפרש אותן בדרכיכם האישית.

I Am Not Special

This was supposed to start as a new blog on my own domain, but fuck it.

I was supposed to start writing a journal a few months ago. It was suggested to me by a smart person whom I respect and whose advice I usually take.

But, as usual, I got lazy and never started. I even remember having an idea for a first chapter. It was supposed to be a sort of "Hello Diary, my name is Idan" sort of article. But it never came to be. Instead I decided to visit this lonely place again and type about my recent state of mind.

I've been working as a phone customer service person since September. It all began when a friend of mine (who should stay in touch more often than she currently does!) asked me if I'm looking for a job. I said yes and sent her my CV. She sent them to a couple of people, one of whom was the people who interviewed my for this job. I had two other interviews that week, and you need to understand this is more than I've had in the six months prior. Also, I was accepted to two of them. I chose my current work place because it's easier to get to from my apartment and had more shifts per week.

I knew from the beginning that I wasn't going to enjoy doing it. But being unemployed for three years makes you kind of ignore such nonsense. I began a customer service course on September 4th that ended exactly one month later. I passed the practical exam on the first try and started answering calls on my own the very same day. But before I get to all of that I want to say a few more words about the course. I had a relatively good time. I was finally starting to meet new people, my confidence increased quite a bit and I found I can speak to new people without much reservations. Who knows, I might even keep a few friends after I quit here. The course itself was a piece of cake for me, it was relaxing and passed quickly.

And that's where it ended. This job is worse than I thought. It's demanding and makes me a very angry person. And not only because of the customers. It's not easy dealing with the average Israeli customer, but it's even harder dealing with the average Israeli customer service manager... They demand I do a lot more work than the minimum wages I get entitle and keep harassing us about sales.

God I hate sales. I wouldn't mind so much if I didn't think it was disrespectful to our customers. We bug them non stop by trying to sell stuff to them, while on the other hand they usually get very bad service from most other employees. The managers make it sound like sales is the most important aspect of the job, while, at least in my opinion, we should be working a lot harder on the actual service we provide. Because it is below average and quite infuriating in cases, and I sympathize with 90% of the callers. But hell, even the bonus we get for sales is meaningless compared to the bonuses we get for making more calls per hour, getting good results on surveys, etc.

So yeah. The anger this job makes me feel only hurts my confidence. I'm beginning to feel too much like someone I have been trying hard for three years not to be like. This job is horrible and I wanna quit. However, I can't, at least not until I find something else, and other jobs are scarce around here.

So all I have to do is take it on with stride, hope it gets better and ignore the anger, for now. And get used to real life.

[OOC] Moping

OMG I hate school and I'm poor and politics sucks and nothing is ever good and my cat died.

In case you didn't realize, the above statement was cynical. I know sarcasm is hard to detect on teh internets but the thing about the cat should have made it clear.

I hate moping. The world is full of two types of mopers: The first defines self-centered Emos who only care about silly love life, and the second regards people who watch too much TV and think they need more drama in their life, and make up problems and things to whine about. The funny thing about the second type is that their "problems" can almost always be attributed to everyone else they associate with. And yet, I stay true to my statement: these issues are pure fantasy.

The country I live in (Israel) is full of these people. If you're from around here, then most chances are you fit that type. Some of my friends are that type. My family contains a few of the type and even I am of that type. The difference is I know that I'm whining about crap and usually refrain from talking about my "problems" seriously.

Examples for the complaints people in Israel often have about stuff that are remotely unimportant:

1. Students whine about school. Whether you're an undergrad or finishing your doctorate, if you're in professional studies or an intern, you will whine about your education. It's too hard, it's too stressful, it's boring, it's useless and it's not mystical enough. I have yet to meet a lecturer or assistants who didn't agree students like to whine about shit (and yet, very few of them remember they were students not so long ago).

What the hell is wrong with us? We are fortunate enough to have the opportunity to study what we want, where we want (and get charged up the roof for it, too!). Look around you, there are plenty of other countries in the region which do not allow university studies for "commoners" and women. Most chances are you have the financial backing to begin studying, and while it's true it's hard and unfair that we have to pay so much for a degree, it's not impossible. The few unfortunate people who are unable to pay for school on their own are eligible for a scholarship, and if they aren't... well, if you can and they can't, why the fuck do you think you have something to whine about?

2. Soldiers. Soldiers everywhere whine non stop. It's like during the run of the years, IDF has evolved some sort of mutant ability to turn snotty teenagers into the Common Israeli Whiner (CIW from now on) instead of into a real soldier. Every type of soldier has something to whine about, whether it's about the lack of food during training or a non-combat sitting in their office whining about their commanding officer.

For the first I will say: I understand, from personal experience, but shut the fuck up, people in Africa survive whole months on smaller rations. You can live a few more hours without your bloody sandwich! Maybe younger soldiers will take an example and act like fighters and not sissies and our future wars won't look like the last one.

As for the second, it is a much more serious issue to look upon. The same lazy-ass office sloth they behave as today will devolve into the future potato couch CIW who yells angrily at the TV (and relatives) about how Everything In This Country Is Wrong. Stop this vulgarity, I say! Grow a pair of balls (or if you're a woman, a pinch of Common Sense), do your job like an honest person and stop moping about meaningless crap like how your boss is mean (of course he's mean, did you chance to observe yourself while "working"?!) or the other secretary stole your paperclips. It will help stop this downward spirals of turning from fun loving teenagers to whiny, lazy adults. Why, perhaps it might even influence younger secretaries to not be so worthless and get things done. And THEN when you get out into the world and get real jobs, you'll be efficient at it (not the current situation).

3. Employees. It's quite similar to the second type of soldier whining I touched on. You hate your job and you hate your hardass boss and waking up so early and all that shit. Again, maybe if you stop whining and shift the focus to doing the job, your boss might actually like you. I can tell from experience that it works. And I am not an ass kisser. If, on the other hand, your job is so awful, ie, pay is too low, hours too long, boss sexually harasses you, etc, then perhaps it's time to act. Cease complaining and quit. The Market Is Horrible is not an option, if you're willing to keep a horrible job because you're afraid to take risks, you'll never get anywhere. It also means you're a sissy.

4. Everyone else in this country likes to whine about religion, politics, education, etc... To them I say, our leaders were chosen by us, it's not entirely their fault they're screwing stuff up. It's up to us to stop this country from switching to a theocracy, instead of letting them lie to us and our children. Education is up to the parent, not the teacher. And last but not least, is life so boring that you prefer whining instead of taking the family to a picnic, a trip, Disneyland, strip club?

In conclusion, stop whining. And moping (it's the sissier way of whining) and start acting how you perceive is correct, perhaps you will influence others, especially future generations. You may even succeed in changing things, and if not in the near future, in the far one, which is also great.

PS:
I just realized I was whining about whiners. Guess it's time to go out to the street and kill them all.

[OOC] Overdoing everything

Last post was February 2010. Today has been... one year and three weeks since last post. Those of you in the vast vacuum of internet space that actually bothered reading this poor excuse for a blog will be glad to know I'll be making an attempt to write more. Should it be a story or just random stuff (I,too, have reached that stage where I have something to say to anonymous people).

Sooo, yeah, new posts coming up soon, all in english. Stories I write will have the [Story] tag, everything else will have the [OOC] tag, like this one.

I don't have anything else to say. It's 4am. I'm tired. And bored. Talk to you soon.

*whine* (OOC)

I swore I'll never write anything "real" in here (Cause I don't like blogs and all), but god

I can't write anything! What the fuck is wrong with me? :(

Cereals (OOC)

I am a serial killer. And since this is the internet, I don't mind letting it out. I usually go out at night, looking for that special someone who fits my fantasy, torture, then brutally kill her while she begs for her life. But that's not what I like about it. This city is full of lousy houses, poor neighborhoods and half-lit alleys. The quiet is a pleasure to my ears, as I use all senses to hunt. I convince a security guard to let me through the university gates, so I can lurk around hallways which, during the day, are full of students. And then I see my mark.

Tonight, I'm a serial killer. But yesterday I was a stalker. And tomorrow I might be a thief. Rarely, when I'm truly bored, I'm a vampire. It's the lurking I like, the walking around with the pocket knife and impractical long black coat I bought for this purpose alone, even though it's humid and hot at nights, on November. Once the couple appeared at the university grounds, I follow them, as quietly as I possible can, walking on the soft edges of my feet so I don't make any noise while walking. A fantasy book character I like walks like this, but in the book, he is the hero, and in my imagination, I'm the villain.

Listening on their conversation is the most interesting part of the adventure. Usually I eavesdrop on dull, day-to-day conversation, even though the night is half passed, and the moon isn't shining as much as it did earlier. But tonight I've hit a jackpot, because they're talking about what they're gonna do in bed when they get back. I grow hard, and smile a smile which is half hidden behind the up-folded edges of my coat's collar. Thoughts of what I'm going to do to them once I follow them into the apartment begin to float into my head. Being not-so-creative, below average even, I think of that movie about a serial killer who's a dad, who breaks into lovers' apartments and kills them in the act. And I replace him with my image, in my mind.

I wasn't too surprised that I followed them to a place very close to my own home. I would be surprised if it was day, because honestly - what's the probability? But I'm not surprised now, because this is tonight, and I decide what happens.

They still haven't noticed me. They probably didn't even realize they should be afraid. I'm not really going to kill them, or even try to break into their apartment, but sometimes, when I walk without pretending, strangers give me odd looks. Tell me, strange people, is it a self-defense mechanism, to make the people on the street fear you? Or are you just generally impolite to strangers? So if they did see me, they'd be scared shitless, as they say in Hollywood. They'd be so scared, they wouldn't even try to attack me. They'll run.

Because it's the night, it's my reign. It's mine alone, even as I leave them be and walk back to my home, and enter my room, and take all my clothes off, and go to sleep, once again, in an empty bed.

The Last Tale of Ra'han Lhalabar - II

27.06.09

Even through the thick b lack veil he wore over his eyes, Ra'han Lhalabar found the painful sunset of the surface world a marvel. Pink and orange stripes filled the horizon like strands of dyed spider silk on an enchantress. The lights flew around mountaintops which were taller than the ceiling of any underdark cavern, their tops covered with snow. The soft, frozen material fascinated the old weaponmaster; the only aspect of frozen water he's ever seen was ice – cold and dangerous. It was nearly unrecognizable using a drow's heat vision, and where ice covered the ground it also covered the ceiling, threatening to drop stalagmites. The sun, thrilling, yet wallowing and unstable mass of the terrible sun pained Ra'han's eyes, quivered without rhythm at the edges; a state the old warrior felt very similar to his own. Always putting on a cold face, dangerous to others through appearance and reputation, but unstable and unsure at time; Ra'han felt melancholy sweep over him. It disappeared behind the mountaintops quickly and without splendor, so it seemed, and Ra'han once more found he wished he could just stand up and head to these mountains and climb to their tops, that that was the only way he will ever feel peace.

Instead, however, the nagging feeling of the matron's order crept into his consciousness again, as it had for the week since Nebul's visit. The drow was sitting cross-legged in the shadow of a large, flat stone, inside a small cave, barely outside of the line of light. His arms were restively spread on his thighs, and he could see the last light fade into darkness. Evening birds chirped noisily and a strong breeze blew, yet neither could keep the underdark guide's thoughts off of his seemingly eternal turmoil – the dilemma keeping him under the overbearing ceiling of stone and rock against leaving his old hateful home. He could never find a viable solution, an unrecognizable force pulling him in while his will desperately wanting out. Shadowrealm hasn't been his home for decades, and the underdark was no one's home. He felt any old and strong drow like him could master fears of the surface world, yet something was keeping him from it.

The drow weaponmaster refused to let the extreme contrasts in view hypnotize him as he abruptly stood up and turned around. He picked up his old blade, Elghinnsila, and started trotting toward the black, dull underdark.

OOC - Picture

So I can't find the draft for the second part... Must have left it at my parents' place. Anyway, here's a picture by Roni Yoffe.
This is what Ra'han used to look like when he was very young. Probably a lot before he lost his ear and became a weaponmaster. This image is missing the dragon amulet, I'll see about uploading the one I have in Rishon, although it might be of lesser quality.

OOC and Welcome

ברוכים הבאים.
בעתיד יעלו פה סיפורים שלי, בעיקר כאלו על הדמות הראשית שלי כבר מ 2002. אני אודה לכל מי שישאיר הערות.
עידן

Welcome.
I'm gonna be posting stories of mine here, especially about Ra'han Lhalabar, from now on. Thanks in advance to everyone who leaves a comment.

The Last Tale of Ra'han Lhalabar - I

(written 03.06.09)

"It's what?" Ra'han did not sound as suspicious as he intended. These things simply did not apply to his way of life anymore, not since he has taken on his original albeit lonely lifestyle.
"I'm telling true, I swear, Master Ra'han! You must believe me and correspond at once!"

Ra'han made a show of sneering at the young drow's tone of speech.

"I must, lord Nebul? Who said I must? As far as I know, it has been decades since Matron…" The old weaponmaster paused and gave a careless twirl of his hand. "Sinifaine", the young lord dared to frown as he assisted Ra'han's apathy, mistaking it for forgetfulness. The weaponmaster returned a scowl of his own, to which he received an appeasing flinch from the young Nebul.

"Sinifaine, yes. Thank you my lord. As I was saying it has been decades since Matron Sinifaine has refused me entry to Shadowrealm". The experienced fighter paused for a few moments, letting the younger drow realize his lack of interest in the cause.

Ra'han has played the part of underdark-guide for almost a century, highlighted by the event in which he was outcast from Shadowrealm, his ancient homeland. However, he failed to show any inclination of coming back, especially since he has been hunted ever since that sorry occasion. It is needless to say no bounty-hunter has ever been successful, initiating therefore the current status-quo between himself and the nobility of Shadowrealm; he was to stay out and they were to stop bothering him. As an underdark-guide, and a drow warrior with a few centuries of experience, the old drow had no need for cities in any case, being able to survive the underdark reaches known to him.

The young noble shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Ra'han sat and glared at his standing counterpart. It was a preferred strategy of his to make young upstart drow uncomfortable, relying on his reputation as well. It was unclear, however, at whose annoyance at him lord Nebul feared more, Ra'han's or the matron's. The weaponmaster didn't care about that either. It has been more than a few decades than he cared about Shadowrealm politics. Nor did he care what any of its inhabitants, like Nebul, thought about him. "Master Ra'han", the noble inquired with a puzzled expression, "Since you seem so eager to forget Shadowrealm exists, how is it you still lurk around so much? Homesick much?".

Ra'han was both surprised and infuriated at such a personal question. By the time it took the old fighter to pick a feeling, and for the young Nebul to realize his mistake, they found themselves thrown on the ground, the weaponmaster looking down at Nebul, sprawled on the floor, his limbs pinned to the ground and bleeding a little from where Ra'han's black dagger penetrated Nebul's lucrative piece of armor.

"Wrong subject, lord Nebul", the old weaponmaster snarled. Nebul glared up at him half terrified half angry, whimpered "But what of the ma…", "Tell Matron Sinifaine the same thing, you brat!" Ra'han snapped. He waited for Nebul's nervous nod and got up. The young drow took his time and dignity standing up, he was a noble after all, and stared expressionlessly at the weaponmaster. "You grow old and careless, Master Ra'han. That little stunt will cost you. You'll hear from us again".

He left right after without another word or other sort of sound. The underdark-guide found himself thinking he was growing too patient with these bastards and upstarts from his hometown. They feared him on their own, but felt brave thinking of the support of their matron mothers. They could rely on them, of course, but that meant little to Ra'han. They were forgetting who he was and what he was capable of. They already forgot he taught their ancestors everything they know.

It was past time he reminded the lowlifes their place in the underdark's treacherous domain. "And I'll be waiting, young lord Nebul. It is indeed past time I had a chat with Matron Sinifaine".