Is there something?

How much time do you invest in yourself? Not for profit but for being.

How often do you read, how often do you just sit down and think? How often do you write? How much time do you spend actually improving a skill? And by that I don't mean in video games. I mean in real life. How much time do you spend in the real world?

I don't know what your answer might be but for me, until now, it hasn't been much. Actually the answer in numbers would frighten myself.

I love to go out, to enjoy the nature, the moment, real people. But at the time I am anxious of all that. I am consumed by thoughts of what I could do or achieve by doing this or that – but I seldomly do any of it. I spend more time planning and thinking about my skills instead of actually doing something with or about them. And it is so frustrating, that I keep lying to myself in order to avoid them.

Isn't it funny how easy it feels to just keep lying to protect ourself from just slowing, quieting and calming down? To just be there for a moment. And see deeply in what's really missing. What we really want or need to do? It's not, because the amount of missteps has grown as large as the depts of our countries and the only solution - which I'd rather call protection - seems to be running away. Running away towards entertainment, study, stimulation and excess, which makes the pile of shame grow more and build uncountable walls around us.

So don't act surprised if the wall gets too big and collides. Be aware that it's made of thin glass and is easy to smash. Don't wait for it to be smashed in the first place. Do it yourself and expose your weaknesses. Start accepting them and working on them. Work on yourself. Work for yourself. Be what you want to be in the real world, not in your mind. Just fucking do it. At least before it's too late – because I bet there are many things too late already. And the pile will overgrow you, if you don't start to work it down now!

Challenges

It has been quite a while i guess but I'm still alive and kickin'! 
As for myself, I started a little challenge for myself, inspired by self-actualization. Actually I did not intend to "cure perfectionism", because I don't think, I am a very perfectionistic person. I am rather a little too sloppy to be honest, but there was a point that got me curious, which is criticizing everything and anyone around you. Being non-judgemental is a very dear topic to me as objectivity and self-improvement in general. I have noticed, that people are constantly complaining about strangers or their own surroundings, which is upsetting me in the process. Of course, I am not excluded, I also complain about too many trivia therefore this also is pissing myself off. So this challenge is a very good start, to control that - or so I thought

Minimalism.

So, ich werde jetzt 20 Minuten lang schreiben, während Musik läuft, denn das hier ist der

21 Minimalism Challange-Tag,

den ich schon seit Ewigkeiten verschiebe!

Thinking.

Thoughts, I've stumbled upon at some time, that help me a lot through difficult times:

 - "Don't compare yourself to others"
 - "sonder"
 - "Oh, look who cares? Not me! It's not me!"
 - "It's not about them, it's about you"

Fooling around in winter

Leningrad.

It was just before winter and people had an uneasy feeling about what would be coming at them. Winter was never easy and even more so in war. Little children were playing on the empty streets as I looked out of my window. Oh, how I longed to play with them, but I had to stay inside and save calories. Eventhough had some bread-cards left, nobody knew whether we would get our portion of food and it was already about 0 degree, counting in the European Celsius, of course. I was not entirely sure about that though, since we sold our last thermometer at the black market. But I was guessing so, because my sister, Lena, was lying on the bed, her skin steadily turning blue as she tried to get herself at least a little clean with the snow she had collected outside just a few minutes ago.

"Everyone is dead, everyone is dead, only Marie they left." She mumbled almost singingly.

She came closer to me, her body blue, naked, barely any flesh left on those bones. Lena wrapped me into her cloak. She did that every evening. I tried to tell her, that I was already warm enough and that she should keep those to herself, but she didn't want to listen. Instead she layered me up with all the pieces of clothes she had left. Luckily we had some extra pieces, since Mama died last week and also left us an extra bread-card. But I felt guilty seeing my sister using all that extra clothing for my sake.

When Lena noticed herself in the mirror, she slowly teared up and started screaming. She did that every time. "Oh, what a misbuilded being I have become. What an ugly monster!" She hit herself a few times against her own stomach. I tried to tell her that it would only increase her calorie consumption, but she never listened to me. I was shocked how it didn't even move me. My sister used to be a very beautiful, kind child after all. She was celebrated and well known. But war changed everything. It made her steal, it made her take the life of others, it made her sleep with wrong men. And hunger did the other part. Making her ugly and weak.

While Lena was crying she picked up her scissors and cut off her hair. She looked at me: "Is this alright? Yes? I am so sorry I couldn't get any food today, but those bastards didn't have anything left for us! At the black market they wouldn't even take my soap. THE GOOD SOAP MAMA LEFT US TO SELL WHAT ELSE WAS SHE GOOD FOR? Why wouldn't they take it, Maria, why would they reject me?"

I was a little worried about the scissors Lena was holding. On the other hand I knew she would never leave her little sister alone on purpose. Not in winter. Not in war. We survived this once, I tried to whisper, we can do this again. Encouragement, though, never worked, because we all knew, the whole time, that every hope we gave ourselves, every optimistic thought we told – they were all lies. Lies that kept us alive. But sometimes they just didn't work out and hope couldn't compensate the hunger. Now was such a moment, I noticed, when my sister took out a kettle and started to melt the soap. Again she turned at me: "Everything is going to be fine, ok? I will make a great meal today." She shouldn't do this, I tried to communicate, she would just poison herself. But she never listened. Lena sprinkeled her hair into the soap. Her warming glance, the one she had while singing lullabies to me, when I was a kid, was about to fade. My sister took a spoon and ate a little from her odd soup. She swallowed it with force. Immediately she puked on the floor. I hated seeing her like that, but all I could do was trying to roll my eyes to express how predictable that action was.

Lena started crying. My older sister was shaking and screaming and shivering and hewing the ground aimlessly. Slowly her cry turned into a desperate laughter. She looked at me. She laughed. She seemed determined.

I had only seen that look once, when the letter came, telling us how sorry the goverment was to lose a great soldier and friend to the German army. Mum and sister looked empty, but Lena had something in her eyes, that made her look confident at the same time. That's when she promised to protect me with her life. With all her might. And that look there. Facing me right in that moment. Was the same and I knew she was doing the right thing, Yes, I tried to tell her, I tried to scream at her, I tried nodding but why, god, why couldn't I move? Why did she never listen? My sister came up to me, whispering: "I'd rather kill myself than giving in and eating my own little, dead, sister. I am so sorry. I knew your death had a purpose. I know you wouldn't want it to be in vain. I am sorry. I am weak. I can not do this." That's when she began stabbing her guts just like I did with mine.

My Lovecraftian Relationship

When did you first discover Lovecraft?
I guess it was 2012. I have started to watch the BBC Sherlock series and did a little research on "The Hound of Baskerville". That's when I found out, that there was a writer who did a 'poem' called "The Hound" which was the first story I read written by Lovecraft.

What got you reading Lovecraft after you discovered it? What kept you reading?
Actually after some more research I have noticed, that there was A LOT of popular culture, which referred to many elements of Lovcraft's works. So this was basically my motivation to keep on reading. So I kept looking for (and easily found) other short stories on the net. The English is a little difficult though, so I bought my first book in German and in contained "The Best Of Lovecraft" so those stories were verrrrry well written, so I kept buying stuff.

What element of Lovecraft’s writing is so appealing to you? Why?
I guess it is how he perceives the world. It's not a writing-style but rather the thoughts behind his "world-concept". The greatest thing I have experienced reading his works is actually, that he showed me a way of thinking/looking at the world around me, that I haven't even thought of before. If I had to name the element, which is appealing to me, I'd say it is the philosophy.

What’s your favorite story by Lovecraft and why?
For a looong time it was "The Color Out Of Space", because I just loved the idea of something unimaginable. Also this story reminded me of Junji Ito's environments. I always felt like I was in one of his stories, reading The Color (which is not surprising, because Junji Ito was inspired by Lovecraft himself).
But right now it is "The Silver Key" only because it has the most philosophical thoughts to it and shows a lot of Lovecraft's universe.

What’s your least favorite story by Lovecraft and why?
I don't think I really have one. But I remember I was a little bored while I read "The Alchemist". I guess because this was one of the first stories i have red and I read it in English and it contained just sooo many names (which I am rather bad with especially in books).

What is your favorite character in the Cthulhu mythos? (creature, protagonist, the meteorite from Color Out of Space, etc.)
"The meteorite from the Color Out of Space" is a good one, actually I really did like it, but I never thought of it as a character. I'd proobably choose either Randolph Carter from "The Silver Key" or the protagonist (couldn't find his name sorry) from "The Shadow Over Innsmouth", who was really cool. This was definetly the most exciting story I've read so far.

If you could see any of his stories converted to a different medium (play, movie, mini series, video game, etc.) which one would you like to see? Why that story? (Keep it mind it’d be a faithful adaption.) Also, who would you put in charge of making it and why?
Actually I can imagine almost all his stories made into video games, they all have this "explorer"(by which I do not mean INTERNET EXPLORER..duh) theme to them and that's basically what many RPGs are made for: to explore the world/setting. I also think this way you can get the most out of the animation/creepy feeling. I'd love to see "The Shadow Over Innsmouth" or "The Dunwich Horror" made into a movie adaption, I believe it IS possible to create those things well with todays movie-technology.
I myself have read/seen/played a lot of different mediums based on Lovecraft's works. Personally I think that comics fit the stories best but I haven't given up hope on the computergames yet.

(Questions stolen from reddit.com. eheheh)