New Russian Chronicles
Surviving monotaxocausofilia


Anyway, tomorrow I am interpreting in a conference called “Cock, Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeh!”. And that’s not even a joke. I promise it’s literally true. I promise I will try not to giggle into the mic.

And now, since we are in conference mood, let’s examine the annotated agenda of my past weekend.

1. Chilling is the operative word.

Chill with music. (Thievery Corporation’s “Meu Destino”).

Be cool. Be kind. Rewind. Be zen. Take it easy. Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeal ezy there, bro. No big deal. No sir.
Take a chill pill. Chillax. Cut yourself with the chillax.
It’s cool, bro. There, there. Yeeeeeeeah. This is what Le Monde has to say about it.. Yeah, that’s the thing to do. Read some Questionable Content. Keep calm.

No, more than that, keep cool, calm and collected.
2.The Litany against fear

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
3. Diplomacy

Diplomacy is like this African proverb. Speak softly and carry a big stick. You will go far.

4. Friends
It was fantastic meeting with all of the long lost ESIT bunch. You guys rule. If only tou weren’t leaving Paris in hordes…

5. Rome
Here I am. I came for the “Cock, yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh!” conference. And again, I swear that’s LITERALLY how the name of the conference is pronounced.
One thing about Rome: Pics.
(The same ones you can find in the column to the right, but hey)

6. Information. We want… information.
So here you go, information. You know white noise? This is white knowledge, which is the same just more informative. (Kudoz to anyone who spotted the Iron Maiden reference).

7. Go digging through a graveyard.

And what do you know? The results made me very sad. But yeah, I went digging through a graveyard this weekend, and what I found are things I think about often, things of my past and of decisions I’ve taken, the issues that come attached to being an expat, to give preference to wings over roots, to wonder what do I really want? Do I want what I want? And letting philosophy and existential doubt ruin a perfectly fine afternoon.

But I don’t fret, I only worry about the things I can control. The ones that were results of my actions are (mostly) pretty neat.

But yeah, kids, don’t dig through graveyards. The results are sad.

8. Other matters.
– Or how this post is not supposed to make any sense.


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