It is all red on the top, fire and tabacco, it is all white and slim in the middle and at the tip of it, there are my red lips, huggig the brown paper wrapping around the plastick, and there is thin grey smoke sliding in my loung and out.
In and out.
In and out.
All about the cigarett.
Lighters in the pocket.
Lighters in the bag.
Ashtray on the table.
I am smoking again.
It is terrible and terrific.
20/04/2009
Summertime
In april nevertheles.
My blood is heavy but circulates faster.
My hair is really messy.
I am going to see my own show today again. It is a fasciating thing, theatre is - you sit with many people in the same room and the lights are all pretty and everyting that happens on stage you know, most of it you created and everybody is looking at that for a whole hour.
Nobody talks.
Nobody is on the phone.
No computers either.
It is a fascinating microcosmos of fictional reality.
It is a very rare and intensive encounter and experience with starngers, theatre is.
Yet there was this person, a little woman with bare feet and curly hair, she had red wine and soure cream in front of her.
This person farted.
The fart was short but loud.
Theatre is really funny sometimes.
My blood is heavy but circulates faster.
My hair is really messy.
I am going to see my own show today again. It is a fasciating thing, theatre is - you sit with many people in the same room and the lights are all pretty and everyting that happens on stage you know, most of it you created and everybody is looking at that for a whole hour.
Nobody talks.
Nobody is on the phone.
No computers either.
It is a fascinating microcosmos of fictional reality.
It is a very rare and intensive encounter and experience with starngers, theatre is.
Yet there was this person, a little woman with bare feet and curly hair, she had red wine and soure cream in front of her.
This person farted.
The fart was short but loud.
Theatre is really funny sometimes.
12/04/2009
Out of the blue
..comes anxiety and takes you by the throat and your skin turns grey. An elegant shade of grey that serves as a backdrop to your moth that mumbels, your blue eyes that loose focus and it gives a place of origin to those sounds, like:
I am sorry.
Don't keep telling that to your self.
Lets eat something.
I am smoking again. I am fat like never before and I am back at the awful habbit of putting burning cigarettes into my mouth.
The mother of my friend died.
And I would like to smoke another cigarette and I would like to hold my mother and not speak bitternes with her but take her to the Eden Project and other places she wants to go while she is alive.
It is a thin white line that connects us to the rest of humanity, it is so fragile.
I go to Tesco.
She goes to Tesco.
Life.
I am in london in a non-smoking hotelroom and I started smoking again with my lover. Every time I desire a fag I have to dress my fat body and go down the stairs, out on the cold street to join all the other loosers.
He is falling asleep.
I cant help but waste time.
Some people said that they read this, and that was really nice, so I thought I would share some thoughts.
I am sorry they were a bit selfindulgent.
But it is difficult times ahead and that creates less inspiering blog entries.
But to make it up to you I will insert a picture, you children of visual culture will be sure to enjoy.
Sorry didn't work.
I am sorry.
Don't keep telling that to your self.
Lets eat something.
I am smoking again. I am fat like never before and I am back at the awful habbit of putting burning cigarettes into my mouth.
The mother of my friend died.
And I would like to smoke another cigarette and I would like to hold my mother and not speak bitternes with her but take her to the Eden Project and other places she wants to go while she is alive.
It is a thin white line that connects us to the rest of humanity, it is so fragile.
I go to Tesco.
She goes to Tesco.
Life.
I am in london in a non-smoking hotelroom and I started smoking again with my lover. Every time I desire a fag I have to dress my fat body and go down the stairs, out on the cold street to join all the other loosers.
He is falling asleep.
I cant help but waste time.
Some people said that they read this, and that was really nice, so I thought I would share some thoughts.
I am sorry they were a bit selfindulgent.
But it is difficult times ahead and that creates less inspiering blog entries.
But to make it up to you I will insert a picture, you children of visual culture will be sure to enjoy.
Sorry didn't work.
31/01/2009
Things Happen
You know, I have this life.
I don't always sit in front of my computer in the dark of night.
So I have a job and that makes me do things.
I go to school and I have to take exams.
I am an amazing student. I am. Bright as the sun - my mother would tell you.
And I am working on a performance.
Things happen all the time. For instance there is this woman, with the curious name who keeps on calling me on the phone. We talk. She asks me questions. I answer them.It is only polite to do so.
I don't know who the fuck she is.
On Monday she wanted to meet me on the Octogon.I didn't go.
Things happen.
I don't always sit in front of my computer in the dark of night.
So I have a job and that makes me do things.
I go to school and I have to take exams.
I am an amazing student. I am. Bright as the sun - my mother would tell you.
And I am working on a performance.
Things happen all the time. For instance there is this woman, with the curious name who keeps on calling me on the phone. We talk. She asks me questions. I answer them.It is only polite to do so.
I don't know who the fuck she is.
On Monday she wanted to meet me on the Octogon.I didn't go.
Things happen.
To Kill a Blog
I keep on thinking of my blog as if it was a tamagochi or a bonsai.
I have irrational anxieties about it.
I feel this rootless senseless fear, that it will die:
Because I don't feed it.
Because don't water it.
The blog will die.
Budapie will be no more.
And after it dies it will be sad.
Like standing in an empty room where many were waiting for you, but you just couldnt go, and than you are alone.
Than you write alone.
But the blog is not a tamagotchi. Or a bonsai.
It will stay a blog even if the tram cuts down my head tomorrow.
And that is comforting. That is reassuring.
You always write alone.
I have irrational anxieties about it.
I feel this rootless senseless fear, that it will die:
Because I don't feed it.
Because don't water it.
The blog will die.
Budapie will be no more.
And after it dies it will be sad.
Like standing in an empty room where many were waiting for you, but you just couldnt go, and than you are alone.
Than you write alone.
But the blog is not a tamagotchi. Or a bonsai.
It will stay a blog even if the tram cuts down my head tomorrow.
And that is comforting. That is reassuring.
You always write alone.
26/01/2009
Granada
So I have decided to name my unborn child if she will be a girl: Ganada.
To call her Grana. Or Ada. Or Nada.
So this fire burns every time her name is spoken.
So even her signature will resonate duende.
But nobody likes it.
I am not pregnant.
This issue is not urgent.
To call her Grana. Or Ada. Or Nada.
So this fire burns every time her name is spoken.
So even her signature will resonate duende.
But nobody likes it.
I am not pregnant.
This issue is not urgent.
12/01/2009
Shakespeare and Chili con Carne
There is an endless list of what goes on in my domesticity.
I cook in my kitchen.
I direct in my living room.
I write in the study.
And in the bedroom....
In the bedroom...
In the bedroom...
Love sleeps on the pillows.
Love wakes in the morning.
Life rests at night.
I cook in my kitchen.
I direct in my living room.
I write in the study.
And in the bedroom....
In the bedroom...
In the bedroom...
Love sleeps on the pillows.
Love wakes in the morning.
Life rests at night.
06/01/2009
Tragedy and Terror in a Mug
The tragedy is when everything is sick: from God to the last pebble everything is wrong somehow.
In tragedies people do things and than they die.
Tragedy is a sort of dramatic form with misfortune or bad deeds at the center.
A real life tragedy is however that I have have no milk for coffee tomorrow.
I will wake and I will despise my empty and cold fridge.
The day will not start. It will benign without me.
And naturally it is minus 40 degrees out, so I can not just buy a semi-pint of milk from MR and Mr vegetable man in my PJ-s.
The silent and objectless terror a winter morning.
In tragedies people do things and than they die.
Tragedy is a sort of dramatic form with misfortune or bad deeds at the center.
A real life tragedy is however that I have have no milk for coffee tomorrow.
I will wake and I will despise my empty and cold fridge.
The day will not start. It will benign without me.
And naturally it is minus 40 degrees out, so I can not just buy a semi-pint of milk from MR and Mr vegetable man in my PJ-s.
The silent and objectless terror a winter morning.
05/01/2009
Freedom
"Freedom is when you can consume countless chocolate pretzels in the dark of night in your bed.
Another manifestation of freedom is when they don't shoot you ten times when you speak up.
Some freedoms we have, others we don't."
Another manifestation of freedom is when they don't shoot you ten times when you speak up.
Some freedoms we have, others we don't."
Breath
In such a weird place wright now.
I breathe all funny.
My biorhythm is like a jazz-piece.
My social life is carrot-like.
I don't eat sugar.
I am manufacturing great creative plans.
I am starting a new carrier.
I am having exams at university.
I am temporarily broke.
I am addicted to the internet.
I am addicted to the internet.
I am addicted to the internet.
And I breath all funny.
What is all this about?
I breathe all funny.
My biorhythm is like a jazz-piece.
My social life is carrot-like.
I don't eat sugar.
I am manufacturing great creative plans.
I am starting a new carrier.
I am having exams at university.
I am temporarily broke.
I am addicted to the internet.
I am addicted to the internet.
I am addicted to the internet.
And I breath all funny.
What is all this about?
I should
I should
- take a shower
- wash my hair
- brush my teeth
- dress up
- make a sandwich
- eat it
-leave the comfort of my flat
-distance myself from the keyboard
- face the world
I should.
- take a shower
- wash my hair
- brush my teeth
- dress up
- make a sandwich
- eat it
-leave the comfort of my flat
-distance myself from the keyboard
- face the world
I should.
01/01/2009
2009.01.01
And the morning after thin virgin snow fell on the empty streets.
And they were all sleeping.
And they woke and they didn't want to wake.
Ant they moved the time forward and set their numbers back.
And they feasted on leftovers.
And they listened to Kossuth Radio.
And they were all sleeping.
And they woke and they didn't want to wake.
Ant they moved the time forward and set their numbers back.
And they feasted on leftovers.
And they listened to Kossuth Radio.
28/12/2008
Wallflowers
Time to show you something comfortably disturbing again.
Something terribly beautiful.
For much more visist: www.raycaesar.com
EAT
I eat everything that gets in my way, so be careful:
Do not smell good or look appetizing when I am near.
You will be wise to do so.
Do not smell good or look appetizing when I am near.
You will be wise to do so.
Back to civilization
It is the 28th of December today and I welcome the fact that tomorrow morning I will be able to trot down to Mr and Mr Vegetable man and buy some peppers or tomatoes or whatever I please.
My corner shop, my corner shop, my beautiful corner shop.
Mea maxima culpa, I know, because the baby Jesus and all that, but honestly, when I tuned on the TV and Miklos Fenyo was doing a Christmas Special cinningly entitled:
Roll up the Carpet!
And there were dancers with visible underware, some big cotton and white, some thongs shiny fake-silk, and the 36.th murderous cover of let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...
Why sing in English when you dont understand the words?
I know you might ask me: Why write in English when you can't spell?
Just becouse.
This is my virtual playground.
Nobody visits it anyway.
I am all alone in cyberspace.
The lonelyness of strats...
My corner shop, my corner shop, my beautiful corner shop.
Mea maxima culpa, I know, because the baby Jesus and all that, but honestly, when I tuned on the TV and Miklos Fenyo was doing a Christmas Special cinningly entitled:
Roll up the Carpet!
And there were dancers with visible underware, some big cotton and white, some thongs shiny fake-silk, and the 36.th murderous cover of let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...
Why sing in English when you dont understand the words?
I know you might ask me: Why write in English when you can't spell?
Just becouse.
This is my virtual playground.
Nobody visits it anyway.
I am all alone in cyberspace.
The lonelyness of strats...
25/12/2008
Christmas 2008
Samuel Beckett sat down every December and has given the detailed account of all twelve months of the year gone. This precise documentation has helped him to summarize and analyze the events and move on to a new exiting chapter.
I sit down every December and eat. Fried meat, fried mushrooms and fried potatoes. I munch - even though I hate the bloody word - on gherkins. Pickles. They are the best.
And we watch things on TV. Baby Jesus is being born. Pass the ketchup will you? Mary is all happy and virginal. Is there more fries? The three shepherds arrive. Endless commercials come on, cars, toothpaste, shopping centers. The three kings give their presents. We are on to dessert.
It is all golden.
Actually I am named after the event. FYI - even though I bloody hate shortenings - my name is Natalia.
Natalia is derived from Deos Natales (well, from something really similar anyways) which means
'The birth of God'.
- Isn't it the birth of Goddess? - people joke sometimes.
I pretend to blush by sending an extra shot of my divine blood to cruise around my cheeks.
As if God would have to decide what sex God is.
Silly.
I sit down every December and eat. Fried meat, fried mushrooms and fried potatoes. I munch - even though I hate the bloody word - on gherkins. Pickles. They are the best.
And we watch things on TV. Baby Jesus is being born. Pass the ketchup will you? Mary is all happy and virginal. Is there more fries? The three shepherds arrive. Endless commercials come on, cars, toothpaste, shopping centers. The three kings give their presents. We are on to dessert.
It is all golden.
Actually I am named after the event. FYI - even though I bloody hate shortenings - my name is Natalia.
Natalia is derived from Deos Natales (well, from something really similar anyways) which means
'The birth of God'.
- Isn't it the birth of Goddess? - people joke sometimes.
I pretend to blush by sending an extra shot of my divine blood to cruise around my cheeks.
As if God would have to decide what sex God is.
Silly.
22/12/2008
The Drunk I Am
The drunk I am only drinks Martini Bianco.
The drunk I am barely drinks, therefor the thirst of my inner-drunk is great.
Once my inner drunk gets to drink some Martini Bianco she does not hesitate to down the glass like a peasant.
The drunk I am does not enjoy the taste of alcohol it just wants to get smashed.
Not tipsy, piss on that. Smashed. Wasted.
It never happens. when is was a teenager I would happily sip my way to alcohol poisoning and back. As every healthy fifteen year old on the block I would down alcohols galore. And not get a black-out. I never did that. Don't really believe in it either.
Neither do I believe in having one drink with dinner. Why have one glass of wine with food?
So you don't get drunk?
So you can pay twice as much as you would have for a soft drink?
So you can pretend to be a wine expert? Oh, is that white wine you drinking there with fish madam? Is it really? Let me congratulate you. The choice of choices you have made.
Or is it to properly dehydrate yourself?
Or is it so that your mouth smells foul and you don't have to snog your dinner date?
Just stop dating the ugly bastards, will you?
Or is it so you can spiel red wine all over your white shirt because you are in a washing-powder commercial?
Or would you be one of those obsessive-compulsive full wine glass lifters? How interesting.
The drunk I am never drinks just one glass of anything.
The drunk I am barely drinks, therefor the thirst of my inner-drunk is great.
Once my inner drunk gets to drink some Martini Bianco she does not hesitate to down the glass like a peasant.
The drunk I am does not enjoy the taste of alcohol it just wants to get smashed.
Not tipsy, piss on that. Smashed. Wasted.
It never happens. when is was a teenager I would happily sip my way to alcohol poisoning and back. As every healthy fifteen year old on the block I would down alcohols galore. And not get a black-out. I never did that. Don't really believe in it either.
Neither do I believe in having one drink with dinner. Why have one glass of wine with food?
So you don't get drunk?
So you can pay twice as much as you would have for a soft drink?
So you can pretend to be a wine expert? Oh, is that white wine you drinking there with fish madam? Is it really? Let me congratulate you. The choice of choices you have made.
Or is it to properly dehydrate yourself?
Or is it so that your mouth smells foul and you don't have to snog your dinner date?
Just stop dating the ugly bastards, will you?
Or is it so you can spiel red wine all over your white shirt because you are in a washing-powder commercial?
Or would you be one of those obsessive-compulsive full wine glass lifters? How interesting.
The drunk I am never drinks just one glass of anything.
20/12/2008
Burn the Bejgli
Burn the Bejgli is what comes before the Smack my Bitch Up in December.
Bejgli is a must eat item, as displayed on the Hungarian Christmas table by our mothers.
You consume it 67 bites after the first urge to throw up in the festive season.
And you like it.
You like it more when it is filled with poppy-seeds.
You like it less when it has fucking raisins in it.
Because we hate fucking raisins.
Idiots' food really.
But bejgli is great. A real hungaricum.
I give you an other visual:
You are welcome.
For example
http://ajourneyroundmyskull.blogspot.com
I was reading this blog for example and I liked it very much.
I was reading this blog for example and I liked it very much.
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