Me and My Muse

Welcome to my blog! 🙂

Here I write about books, bookish stuff, bookshelves, reading and writing, poetry and philosophy, my own poetry and philosophy, faith, poems and about my upcoming book(s).

By the way, Fairygamaw isn’t me. My name is Johanna, I’m a freelance writer, I write mainly fantasy/sci-fi. I imagined FG and she imagined (or re-imagined) me. She (sometimes he) is my so-called muse, but (s)he doesn’t like this expression – it’s too Greek. (S)he’s rather fairy-like, a giant, fearsome dragonfly, blue-ish, green-ish, sometimes benevolent, sometimes malevolent. I had to tame her/him into my book, otherwise (s)he would’ve whispered my whole life into a chaotic, dusky mess.

But I have to give credit to him/her. So thank you, my muse-fairy! Danke!

If you like this blog, follow or share! Feel free to comment!

You can contact me on this e-mail address: johannaborzasiaddleman@gmail.com.

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The Best Way To Get Rid Of A Spider :)

SONY DSCNeither was it the first time, nor the last, when last week a spider kind of creepily interrupted me while I was in the shower. One just feels extra vulnerable, you know? Although I’m sure they don’t really know the difference between a human with or without clothes on, but because one feels extra vulnerable naked and wet and relaxed and all that, crammed into a relatively small area of a house that we call the tub, one tends to overreact and panic even if a cricket creeps on them, not to mention a spider, (although a worse scenario would be a cockroach, but let’s not get too extreme here!) 😀 It was indeed only a spider, and I am very well aware that they are probably more afraid of me than I am of them, as most people would be quick to inform me. But wait a minute! I can hear this totally innocent spider say the same thing on the Spider Council to the other spiders…

„My dear brethren, trust me on this, these huge beasts called humans are so stupid and self absorbed that they are probably more afraid of us then we are of them!” He rearranges his glasses for the sake of effect and waits.

After a short silence, a big, fat, hairy spider snorts. Next to him there is a much skinnier looking, strong, shiny, black female.

„Come on, Tegenaria Domestica, they are giants and they are hunting us down! Seriously, did you think you can get away with such a sentimental, liberal idea? They are monsters, they need to be liquidated!” – yells the Black Widow. „I can help you with that! You only bite when you panic, and your bite is worth nothing, let me do the job! At least around this neighborhood!”

„We don’t need to be so violent!” – says the shy but composed Brown Recluse. „We only need to kind of show them who the boss is. I tend to agree with Tegenaria, they are clumsy giants, and we need to scare them so they stay away. Just let me bite them, that will give them a taste of what we are capable of!”

„Oh, for heaven’s sake! Don’t you understand?” – asks the frustrated Jumping Spider. „Whenever they see me, they try to smash me, but of course, they are too stupid to really be a threat! Nonetheless, we can’t assume they are benevolent! We just need to be careful, that’s all, and no matter how agressive they might be, I’m sure with our wit and speed we can manage to coexist with them!’

„I can’t believe my ears!” – cries the Wolf Spider. „Some of you actually suggest trying to co-exist with them? I don’t like their noisy company! It is enough for them to take a look at me and immediately they try to end my life! I sincerely think they only live off of spider-flesh!”

„Brethren, brethren, calm down!” – tries again the innocent little spider with glasses. „They probably think our space is actually theirs, or at least they think they have the right to share it with us, they just simply don’t understand our language and are scared of the cool way we look and hunt and move, because honestly, we’ve got the groove here, right? So I just want every one of us to keep our wits and peace, and…”

The council goes on and on, and who knows what the results may be, but hey, do I really care? A SPIDER IS WATCHING ME WHILE I’M IN THE SHOWER!!! Oooooh, it’s so close, I can sense him and his hunter instincts, and I just wish them to be far, far away from me, as far away as Timbuktu or no, the Mars! That’s it, send them all to Mars! But one can’t shoot all the spiders to Mars in a spaceship, right? Besides, they are very beneficial to humankind, so the biologysts say…

No, I need to act, that’s all that goes through my head at that point. I need to sqeeze them, smash them, smear them, break them,terminate them,  liquidate them! Right now! Before they attack! But with what? With what can I just end their ferocious, beastly, ugly lives?

And here comes my perfect solution, the sole purpose of this blog post! I have tried many, believe me, indeed many ways to end the miserable, evil little jumping lives of these sly, ruthless predators, and you have to give me credit for this, in 99 percent of the cases, I succeeded. But at what cost? By the time I finished, the water got cold, I got cold, I was sweaty, exhausted, frustrated, uncomfortable and absolutely unhappy, since the joyful bliss of the relaxing hot shower got interrupted for a solid 15 minutes of spider-hunt. Yes, my friends, that means jumping, yelling, shrieking, running and doing all sorts of acrobatic exercises for a solid 15 minutes naked and wet and alone in a tiny little space. That is an accomplishment for someone who isn’t crazy about sports!

Let’s take for instance a toothbrush. It has all these bumps and it’s too narrow to be able to do a good job for you, and then, you know, the disgust you feel just looking at it – it was in your mouth a moment ago, and now a dead spider is smeared all over it. Ugh… Or a shampoo bottle. It isn’t even on the bottom, or anywhere, for that matter. Most bottles are just made that way, no squares or rectangles, nicely cut edges, but instead all these curves, so you have to go at the spider a thousand times until you actually get them the right angle to be squished. So, I could go on with all these other items, but as it seems, nobody thinks of liquidating spiders in the bathroom when they create these bathroom supplies, so one has to be smart for themselves…

That’s why I suggest you keep a book in your bathroom at all times. It has the perfect shape, it has cutting edge and if it’s fairly sized, it is the right weight as well, not to mention how well it fits into your hand.

And I don’t just mean the book that you would bring in with you for bathroom breaks because it’s so good that you don’t want to waste precious minutes not reading them, and besides, the bathroom is the best place to read anyway, because those books are too important to use them as weapons against a spider. I did that once, and it just broke my heart, if you know what I mean, – to see the fair, new cover getting spider-gross smears on them, I don’t even want to think about it…  Then again, you don’t want to have a totally non-important book there either, because once or twice you might actually forget bringing in there a book you like, and then it’s the end of the world, right? Because you would have to just browse on your phone or read the spider-killing telephone book, and that would be a waste of time, right? So, I suggest you bring in there a book you started but couldn’t finish, because it just got boring or stuck at that place that was very much like the author got writer’s block or something and you didn’t have that feeling anymore, you know? So you just said to yourself: “Ah, I’ll read it later, let’s read something else now!”. So, this way you might actually finish it someday, or at least try, or re-read the parts you liked, and at the same time kill as many spiders as it’s absolutely necessary (after all, I’m not a heartless murderer!!! If you can shove it out the window, be my guest!). But to make things even more comfortable, make sure it’s a hardcover book – it is so sad when you have to break the spine of a soft cover just because it’s not strong enough to squish a spider with it’s own weight and hard cover…  And if you are squeamish, choose a book that is relatively big, at least bigger than your hand, so that your hand wouldn’t even have to get close to the unwanted intruder, and that has a plastic filming on it, just for protection, you know, against the spider-blood, because even though it’s not the best book, you still wouldn’t want it eaten by spider-acid and painted by their cursed blood…

So, there you have it! You’re welcome! 😀

a Watership Down

P.S. Watership Down is NOT a book I will ever use to kill a spider! I might actually just let the spider live if it was the only two options I had. I mean, seriously, Richard Adams is awesome! Such a massive novel, interesting, engaging, charming and all that, about BUNNIES! Way to go! 🙂

I Want

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaI want

(by Sándor Reményik)

 

I want: not to be important to myself.

 

I want to be a brick in the infinite wall,

a stairway upon which others crawl,

a plough that digs deep into the ground,

but the abounding wheat isn’t its merit.

To be the wind that carries the seed,

but doesn’t open the petals of the bud-bead.

Let the people who walk on the meadow

forget the wind, enjoy the flowers aglow.

I want to be the handkerchief that wipes away tears,

to be the silence that eases fears,

to be a caressing hand that perseveres.

To be and never know that I am.

I want to be on tired lashes slumber,

to be the mirage on a desert summer,

never asking if anyone watches me or not.

I want to be the mirage on a vast plain.

To be a deep sigh up to the sky

coming from ancient earth’s black heart.

I want to be the wire carrying the message,

and let them replace me when I’m broken.

I want to be under many souls a raft,

a simple, roughly patched together craft

that is carried to sea by rivers flowing deep.

 

I want to cry into infinity like a violin,

until the Violinist puts down the bow.

Seagull

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The Seagull

 

High from the Earth I Heard by Emily Dickinson

 

High from the earth I heard a bird;
He trod upon the trees
As he esteemed them trifles,
And then he spied a breeze,
And situated softly
Upon a pile of wind
Which in a perturbation
Nature had left behind.
A joyous-going fellow
I gathered from his talk,
Which both of benediction
And badinage partook,
Without apparent burden,
I learned, in leafy wood
He was the faithful father
Of a dependent brood;
And this untoward transport
His remedy for care,—
A contrast to our respites.
How different we are!

Snail-story – the Story of Love and Happiness

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She was afraid, because they harmed her. She said: Never again! She’d rather be lonely! She built a shell-house above everyone else’s. She was perching in it, sometimes sniffing the outside, her horns hitching a good friend or a nasty hedgehog. After every meeting she crawled right bac ink and kept on being afraid. She was looking down on life from afar as it was spinning on time. The good and bad were coming and going, but she just peeped through a tiny split in the door.

Only the White Wanderer was singing with her. She trusted Him a long time ago and invited Him in. He pressed her, edged her on to live well already, enjoy the beauty already, and as soon as He became the Lord inside the shell, not just a Guest, the little snail listened to His voice. „I have a plan with you!” – said the White Wanderer, her Best Friend. „You have to get out and make as many friends as you can! Talk to them about Me, their eyes might be opened and they might see me as well!”

She dared to get out a little. It’s not so bad being outside after all, she thought. She made one or two friends, but didn’t invite in anyone. That would’ve been too risky! The place is too small, and anyway, nobody invites her in either, and anyway, everyone hurts her, and anyway… In other words, she didn’t want to suffer. And she didn’t like embarrassing things. What can be more embarrassing that loving someone who doesn’t want to love you? On the contrary, pricks you! Nudges you! Cuts you! It hurts a lot and is too embarrassing!

But she became braver and braver by and by. Then one day, whether it was a day of warm summer shower or silver snowfall, I do not know, but on a lovely day she opened all the windows and doors wide, and even though she was trembling, she invited every soul in. Let them come in! The good and bad all came. They treaded down her carpet and drank all her raspberry drink. The good and bad all sang together with her inside and outside her shell, and by and by walked away. Many of them saw the White Wanderer, and she shared a special smile with them, and although she gave and received many wounds, there was Happiness next to Sadness. She conquered her fears, she changed.

She had a room deep in the shell, and in that room she had a wardrobe sealed with seven locks. In that wardrobe she had a suitcase sealed with seven locks. In this suitcase was slumbering the creature called Falling-In-Love.  She never let anyone go near it. Once she showed the dusky room to the Wanderer, only for a second on tiptoes, but she was clutching the keys very hard. The Wanderer smiled. „The time will come, little snail,” – said the Wanderer, – „when you will let me in here too!”

The snail was terrified! She knew that when the Wanderer will step into the room nothing will ever be the way she wants it. Can’t she keep for herself at least this tiny room, this tiny wardrobe, this tiny suitcase, at least Falling-In-Love in its slumber? Can’t she be the Boss at least in this little corner? He will rummage through everything, the Wanderer will confuse her! As He usually does! She sqeezed the keys in her hand, but the fourteen locks did not let her rest. So be it! – she sighed.

„Let Your will be done!” – cried the snail to her Friend, but even her horns were trembling as she spoke. „Wake up Fallin-In-Love, if you wish, or let it sleep on forever! I had enough of living in fear! Here are the keys, do, what you have to!”

There were many things in that room, not to mention the wardrobe! Bric-a-brac, lumber, bad memories, revenge, envy, ill desires, the nest of maggots and slimes that she held on to and smuggled in the room so that the Wanderer wouldn’t see it. She hid Pride in there, her most precious treasure, in a golden case. The Wanderer shot a glance at it and whoosh! – with a sway threw it out the open window. Oh, anything but that! – the little snail wanted to shriek, but she was so relieved that she laughed out loud instead. Out with it, whoosh, out with it!

While the Wanderer was opening the locks somebody else stepped into the room. a boy-snail. „Am I in the right place?” asked he shyly. „I smelled a friend-smell in here. A Friend of mine told me to come here.” The little snail was so shocked that she was left speechless for a while. What will happen now? A stranger in her innermost room? Oh, anything but that! But then she smiled and said: „That is just the smell of raspberry drink. Feel yourself at home! What’s your name?” The other snail answered with a misgiving glance: „Derek. And who are you?” The snail answered: „Johanna”.

At frist they were both very frightened, but the Wanderer was the best Friend of both of them, so they often exchanged special smiles, and heard His voice pressing them: „Open your doors, let the air in through the windows, leave your keys with me!” Suddenly the boy-snail was startled. „Something stirred inside there!” – said he. It was Falling-In-Love that stretched and shaked its disheveld head, it was awake. It was good, very good! But the Wanderer warned them: „Falling-In-Love is always sleepy. As quick as it burns now, it will just as quickly go out. You can keep it awake with unconditional Love. There is no other way!” That hurts, man, because when there are no conditions, there is nothing to protect you. But it’s really good too. Without conditions there are no limits either!

This is my story. Or rather our story: the White Wanderer’s, Derek’s and mine.

Everybody is afraid more or less. And everybody wants to be happy. But Happiness isn’t just the good friend of Sadness, it’s his sibling by blood. This is why one needs courage for Happiness. One cannot be happy if one is a coward. Happiness isn’t an object that one can put on a shelf or twirl around in one’s hand to use it as they see fit. Happiness isn’t a guest, a long seen acquaintance, isn’t a neighbour or relative. Isn’t a family member who stays in you for a while, let’s say, until they find a job or until the storm ends. Happiness isn’t Falling In Love. Either Happiness is a complete stranger to you, or He is the Lord of your Heart. Happiness is the Son of the Blessed One, He is Love.