Finding an author that is not only majesty, but also prolific and varies in moods of the respected narrative, is like finding a lover for a decade. It doesn't say it is the only thing you will read for the decade, because other books are like friends and can be fast and odd or quick and weird or brief and freaky, but to know there is someone out there who wrote ten or so books, which you can read for a very long time in much detail... That just makes my whole day :D

In Lj, early morning, cloudy and nice. It is supposed to reach 37'C by Saturday... We'll see how that works. I can pretend this is a vacation type a deal and I'm in some extra posh foreign town, photographing landmarks and whatnot, talking in odd accents and using my camera on everything, which isn't something I could ever get away with back home.... So maybe the heat won't be so devastating as it was a week ago, when I was literally feeling ill. More humidity than heat, really. I like heat. It makes my muscles limber. Humidity.... Not as much. It feels like I have water in my lungs and walking uphill during doggytrek pains me to fatigue.

Sparing the camera, I am turning into one of the annoying people, using my phone to photograph everything and then, even more annoyingly, publish everything on Intagram.... I have to develop a keener sense of one-liner snippets, and get a better phone, but this is so much fun! Like bigger dicks have said before me, the charm of it is in the immediacy. And like I said, this saves the camera a lot of unnecessary heavy lifting - it's reached its midlife crisis and in camera years, that calls for a reduction of pace. Only super glorious sights for the Mark. The rest ... The underlined lesser quality of a smartphone ... And I just realized you can edit Instagram shots. I'm maxing the effects on that little bad boy for all they're worth!

Will keep ye posted on everything. I brought along a lot of craft materials and this flat has its own library, so there's that. I am toying with an idea of a media commentators I wanna see in action and there are people I am hoping to treat to some really good cakes. As said: vacation in a posh town mode...

Know that feeling, when you're a 2months old puppy and you make a few jumpy playful steps and then immediately have to take a nap, because that was just such an incredibly big deal? Ye, that's how I am this afternoon :D I climbed on the bed to get my hair clip from the shelf and passed out. It took me an hour to get to the grocery store and come back. (It's not that far away.) But, then again, there was achievement in play - General, Starbark and I walked to Polzela, 23 km removed town, taking my favorite by-the-river route. We would have swam in the river, but G was convinced his soles got so horrendously blistered removing the shoes will open up some incredible wounds (he had two teeny tiny blisters, though, gramted, they did grow into substancial bubbles in the next couple of days) and he won't be able to continue. The dog was amazingly happy, the man was grumpy and I was really rocking the latest, hitherto longest flatland trek so far, for the first 40 or so km. The last six were too painful. I didn't take any painkillers this time. Though we were 4 hours faster than i usually was, keeping up with his pace. (And he walks like he means it.) Awesome trek in my oppinion, albeit the General nigh murdered me a minute ago, when I asked if he wants to go out with me to walk the doggie and have some coffee by the library. Hell to the no!

Leaving for the capitol in two days. Making the most of it. We've never been apart for more than a day. Not even that, I think......

If you only ever take in, creatively, and never put things out, you're doing it wrong. If you read great books, watch good movies, listen to excellent music and keep up with art, historic or contemporary... That is all well and proper. It means you're an intelligent, cultural person. but if you suck it all in and fail to create anything in return, you will end up having a hard and long dialogue with karma one day, when your time comes. You don't wanna be that guy. The black hole of creativity.

I am having trouble with the interviews. I'm at a tipping point. If one more interview - this is the third one in a row - fails me, after all this effort, I am closing down the page. I am also halfway though the essay on 'Why I hate people'. 

I really have to think of something that will be about humans and will get me money, but will have nothing to do with them, nothing at fucking all. I understand recluses more and more. All those great artists who lived all alone in the end, on remote islands or lighthouses or up in the hills, didn't start out loners. They just got their heart ripped apart until it was nothing left. Ironically, those were the truly good ones, over time.

A lovesick spider's ode to Drej (in Slovene)

Nekega dne jo BOM omrežil!

Renko, pajek. Sorta Tegenaria domestica. Stan: samski. Danes mi ni uspelo; prišla je prehitro in mreža se ji je zapletla v lase in se strgala. Spet me je preklela. Kako rad imam njen glas. S kolegico v bistvu nikoli ne utihneta; slišim ju lahko prihajati poldrugi kilometer stran. A jutri mi bo uspelo. Pletel bom vso noč in niže in zdaj vem, da moram glavno nit napeljati pod kotom, ker jo desni, večji, rdeči pes vleče močneje in posledično z levo roko krili bolj. Mali pes na levi ne ve čisto, kaj se dogaja in ni factor. Slišim jih lahko že od daleč in poznam vonj njenega šampona, ki me spominja na pomaranče. Ali pa me nanje spominjajo njeni oranžni in kratki in skodrani lasje, ki vsakič strgajo mrežo. Včasih se mreža zaplete v oranžne trepalnice. Včasih se dotakne ustnic. Večinokrat očal. Predvsem pa se dotakne nje in jo ovije in potem kleje in jo trga s sebe, ampak enkrat! Enkrat jo bom ujel! Od kar sem jo prvič videl, odkar se je prvič pognala mimo v energičnem jutranjem koraku urbane atletinje, vsako noč garam kot obseden, da vse pripravim, vse napeljem in počakam, da gredo mimo nezanimivi. Nato se odženem, potegnem za sabo mojstrovino – nisem prvi, ki pravi, da sem nadarjen tkalec – in naravnam splet med staro bukvijo in postrani rastoči hrast. Vidim jo lahko prihajati, vem, na kateri korenini se vsakič spotakne. In moje mreže so vedno bolj elastične, vedno več imam žlez in vedno bolje raztegujem nit, da se spremeni v svilo. V tem delu gozda ga ni nikogar, ki bi tkal bolje od mene. Mlad sem, ambiciozen. Ne bom vse življenje jedel enodnevnic. Ko me bo bolje spoznala, bo uvidela, da ji lahko ponudim marsikaj. Čustveno stabilnost. Marljivost. Osemročno masažo. Vsa tri svoja srca. Drznost imam v krvi. Bratranca, ki je omrežil bogomolko. Sicer ga je pojedla na poročno noč, ampak to smo vedeli. Ne delam si nobenih iluzij okoli življenja, ne okoli lepih žensk. Zdaj trenutno mogoče še nisem dorasel silnemu izzivu ljubezni, ki me je dobila nepripravljenega, ampak nekoč. Nekoč.

Dead beat. I had a work meeting yesterday before five (it was soooo hot. The heat wave's definitely reached us. :/ ) and at six i hiked uphill to the parents' place and started spraying the vineyard. The General barely slept for a few hours that day, having returned from the night shift, then went to the capital to do his last exam for the semester, then came back, took a nap and then returned to work - and today he came from work and helped me out and then drove to his parents place to help them out with stacking hay. meanwhile I spent the evening hours spraying until around 22:33, when it got too dark to see anything an even just listening to the process (I can tell when the pump is working just right and when the leaves are being hit just right) didn't help with me finding my footing in the steep slope. I opted for sleeping at their place and made myself the bed in my old room, but the crazy mutt was in the room with me (because she wants to be in the room with me), yet only fell asleep and snored for about a minute and then spent the rest of the hour exploiting restlessly, barking occasionally and wanting to play. She is not used to sleeping away from her own bed, so she feels like she has to protect or warn me from every noisy cricket out there ... And because I was away from the bed that I'm used to, it was hard enough. So I didn't sleep any, waiting for the morning to come, so I could get up after four and start working again. I did, however, take Drej's word for it and sort of meditated or at least put myself in a state of deep relaxation, during which I was prepared for the idiot dog's next audio assault, but the body and brain were completely and perfectly restful. I knew it was as close as it gets to sleeping, so I tricked the body into think it slept just fine. Also, coffee helps. I didn't have my toothbrush with me, which made me a bit self-aware, but after you've sprayed a vineyard for two hours, piggy breath is not the smelliest thing about you. Around 7 other people started coming - the General, which incidentally broke the honey jar intended for my parents in the same bag he had his work clothes in, so he had to drive home for an exchange, but the kid stayed and helped and my sister's Bf made an effort, although he's never done this before. the sister decided that while everyone works their ass off is a nice time to do some trimming of the garden plants and couldn't be arsed to work. She gives the definition of a lazy asshole a new rank. Thanks to everyone else, with the workforce combined, we were finished by 10 in the morning, which was great. 11 is the time when you really should stop, because it gets dangerously hot - bad for the plants and bad for the case of boiling your bone marrow. I've had heat stroked before, I know how they sneak up on you. The general hardly had much to do, I'm proud to say, because the man drove on to his family's hay-stacking task and I hope he gets some sleep beforehand, otherwise he'll keel over and ass out but still try to work on. He left me in town, though, because he said I've worn myself out and won't be of much use. I looked like something that a combined harvester chewed and spat out, walking down the street. Niko biked by and said he only recognized me by the dog :)) Yup. that's a what a happy fucked up person looks like :D Am sleepy now, but I actually need some rest before I can fall asleep. Will do the WoW dailies and then sign out for the day. A few kinks to fix and this will become a good way to sole the vineyard-spraying slavery problem.

On why I don't do conspiracy theories (the tale of the missing Šubic pavilion.)

There is only one thing smarter than a good journalist – and that's the committed investigative method. It is also why I do not believe in secrets, clandestine organizations, evil overlords and manipulative industry: if you want to know something, there is bound to be a very good article somewhere about it, by an actual professional investigative journalist, and not a bunch of internet self-published amateur lunatics crying for the attention of the feeble minded. The problem isn’t a hard path to truth, it’s just that people prefer idiotic fables and short scream pieces to long detailed studies with no dramatic pictures. Did you know that this country’s best newspaper, Delo, (Work) is made by the same people who make the worst newspaper, Slovenske novice (Slovenian News), and that the later sells so much better it’s keeping the company afloat? Or at least it did ‘till the morons sold it. How do you fuck up that house I will never know, but I just get upset thinking about it, so let’s get back to what I wanted to say.

If you want to know the truth, just ask. Not your aunty Clarice, the dowager duchess of town gossip, not your friends unless they happen to work in the field and certainly not your Facebook buddies, because there are people on Facebook who think contrails are poison, pyramids were built by aliens, vaccination is a machination, Elvis was AlQaeda and that we are all slaves of television commercials. Or something. I dunno. Bottom line, people can be really fucking dumb.

A while back a conversation came up about a pavilion that used to be in front of the train station. I was asked if I remember it, it was supposed to be the Jakopič (our most famous architect, who actually isn’t difficult to look at, I mean his buildings) and when they renovated the streets, it just vanished. Nobody knows where it is. Somebody stole our national heritage!... The outcry! The outrage! Another round for this table, we are on to something!
The busybody that I am, in between the interviews I am lagging behind, I decided to document my entire search for the missing treasure in a very elaborate article. I could have written a very interesting and dramatic article indeed, talking to several witnesses and making hundreds of phone calls. Alas, I did what no modern writer should ever do (Because investigative journalism is so totally 30 old schools ago), before I even bothered to Google the damn thing: I wrote to a man I know happens to work for the office of heritage conservation society and asked him straight wassup with tha' crib, yo? He just caught up with me in the street while I was getting some guilty pleasure afternoon snacks. He explained that it wasn’t Plečnik, it was Šubic, the guy who also built the capitol’s famous ‘Skyscraper’ building (there goes my legitimacy on the subject when talking to others like him) and it wasn’t a tickets kiosk, it was a public restroom. And it wasn’t missing, it has simply been put aside and conserved by the construction company while the streets were being reconditioned and when the municipality finds a nice place for it, they will build it back, brick by brick. (In this case column by column.)

I could have called the construction company to double check, but I really felt like my quest has been abruptly completed. How rude, really. It felt like preparing to travel to the far east to find the missing Grail, only to have the neighbor old lady empty her night pot on my head and it turns out to be the Grail. Bittersweet victory. So much for the grand conspiracy of the missing treasure. And my very important and self-worthy take-down piece on the shenanigans of the shadowy characters of the town hall. I honestly should Google more and talk to a lot more locals before I call the professionals direct. They totally ruin the drama with that ugly boring bullshit called the simple truth.

To ADD or not to ADD, that is the question for marshmallow ...

Drej and I talked about attention spans and meditation today (this is an excellent talk to have with three dogs pulling us downhill among which one is a Parson Russel terrier, the other a Beagle and the third a Podenko. They do not have an attention span between them to speak of.)

Drej says meditating for an hour every day really clears out your thoughts and you do everything a lot clearer and faster afterwards. Me, personally, I cannot abide wasting an hour a day on doing nothing. I am back on my summer sleep-five-hours-a-night + one after lunch and I still think days are way too short. There is something heavy and ticking in my head, slowing me down, for sure, and I am not quite sure yet what it is, but I am not the one to rush revolutions/surprises my brain gives me. If anything, I have learned to give them time, because if I do what I always do – jump off ledges to test new shoes, things just bore me after a few days. I really miss the time good old-fashioned life-time revelations, enlightenment, when you woke up and suddenly knew what you're suppose to do in your life, felt like an actual achievement. I've had it up to HERE with those.

I have an attention span of a Fliqlo clock. Drej supposes ADD was a scam thought up by pharmaceuticals, but I am not much for conspiracy theories and would only go as far as to assume pharmaceutical companies invented the word ‘manageable’. A manageable disease, a manageable condition. A hyperactive child is not a sick child, but who has time to deal with everything they want to do? They used to put poppy in milk for small children so that they wouldn’t nag while adults had to work the fields. That proved a colossally ill-advised idea.

I know myself very well. I know that I lose the attention span in an hour max, though usually it’s more like half of an hour. To prolong that, say, like when I draw, I have to watch a movie during. Then I get up and get something to drink, which I usually forget about by the time I get to the club table, because I have a book there waiting and I’ll sit down to read something for fifteen or so minutes. I have books in all the rooms and I read them the same way. My brain has a wholesome capacity to read any number of books at any time and I’ll be able to quote back what I read about last for any of them, plot, author bio and anecdotes and everything. But then I’ll make an event of making myself ice coffee or I’ll just get the urge to climb up on top of the bed and watch the General sleep. Then he’ll shoo me away and I’ll look up something to browse on the web, look up some trailers or some non-violent world news, do my WoW dailies and get up to switch the settings on the fan. Oh, and there’s that book I was reading earlier, I may pick that up now, that I’m already by the sofa. I also feel like showering. Uu, and someone’s sent me a text, asking me out for a drink! I can totally do that before lunch.

…

It’s a miracle I get anything done, I know. But I do. It’s called managing a condition. Which may or may not be fiction. Did I mention I arranged all my colour pencils in the new retro tin cans I bought earlier, when I was supposed to be buying the milk? I love the smell of new magazines.