19 February 2007

An Apology

As indicates the title, in this entry we are going to look at the first mistake that I committed in the new year. Well, this mistake, which we will elaborate in stunning details later on, was actually the inevitable outcome of what we’ve become, ah… I mean, what I’ve become lately. Through the many daily encounters and such, I’ve noticed that I’ve become quite complacent, because of my petty accomplishments so far, even somewhat stuck-up you can say. From time to time, I picked up traces of it, but it wasn’t exactly my cup of tea so I turned my back on it and pretended that I wasn’t becoming like that, that it was a thing of the fairy tales which didn’t exist in the real world, something to which I was immuned.

This situation lasted and wound like a spring which was destined to reach its climax and release the tension, or like a bow persecuted by a thousand enemies and clings to the balance with only a shivering arm trying with all its might to hold back the tide.


The arrow shot through the sky with an unmistakable cry and the only thing the trembling arm could do was to bid it farewell, it knew it was no accident, it knew it had to give in, like a dam surrendering to the overwhelming aquatic pressure, first a leak and then disaster.

So the arm released that arrow and the archer wasn’t bright enough to know at that moment that he had committed something which, as a consequence, would make him sorry and then putting it on the internet for your viewing pleasure in a desperate attempt to free himself from his guilt and, mostly, humiliation.

The SMS message, characterized by inadecuate question and imprudent manner, generated a powerful answer, and immediately upon its arrival, it provoked annoyance and a bit of anger, indignant at who the hell you think you are to talk to me like that. So, in less than 2 seconds, Hermes carried back the one word reply. But, as soon as the archer sent the second arrow on its way, he finally scented his previous errors.

The sole reply to his messages was of industrial strength and humiliating, he was chided like a child, something which haven’t happened for years, and now by someone younger than he was.It was so embarrassing, so unforgiving, so oh why the fuck you said that for you stupid git? that it shook him out of his complacency and forced him to face the fact – that he was a complacent prick. So hastely, he mounted a third arrow and dispatched it to the othe end, carried by an apologetic air. However, more than two hours has already passed and he hasn’t yet received a sign that would release him from his anguish, the hour too late and the torment too great, so all that he can do now is to finish typing, retire to bed and hope that by tomorrow the cure will arrive.

14 February 2007


All was quiet the other day in the office, jolly afternoon with soft breeze and tender sun. Then out of nowhere the unexpected came- a blackout, accompanied by simultaneous mournful cries of mouse manipulators who had not yet mastered the art of save and load, grieving over the sudden death of their loved ones. At the funeral, the once stilly office was now populated with voices.