1 Everything has its own time, and there is a specific time for every activity under heaven: 2 a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to pull out what was planted, 3 a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build up, 4 a time to cry and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, 5 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to hug and a time to stop hugging, 6 a time to start looking and a time to stop looking, a time to keep and a time to throw away, 7 a time to tear apart and a time to sew together, a time to keep quiet and a time to speak out, 8 a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace. 9 What do working people gain from their hard labor? 10 I have seen mortals weighed down with a burden that God has placed on them. 11 It is beautiful how God has done everything at the right time. He has put a sense of eternity in people's minds. Yet, mortals still can't grasp what God is doing from the beginning to the end [of time]. 12 I realize that there's nothing better for them to do than to be cheerful and enjoy what is good in their lives. 13 It is a gift from God to be able to eat and drink and experience the good that comes from every kind of hard work. 14 I realize that whatever God does will last forever. Nothing can be added to it, and nothing can be taken away from it. God does this so that people will fear him. 15 Whatever has happened [in the past] is present now. Whatever is going to happen [in the future] has already happened [in the past]. God will call the past to account. 16 I saw something else under the sun: There is wickedness where justice should be found. There is wickedness where righteousness should be found. 17 I thought to myself, "God will judge righteous people as well as wicked people, because there is a specific time for every activity and every work that is done." 18 I thought to myself, "God is going to test humans in order to show them that they are [like] animals." 19 Humans and animals have the same destiny. One dies just like the other. All of them have the same breath [of life]. Humans have no advantage over animals. All [of life] is pointless. 20 All [life] goes to the same place. All [life] comes from the ground, and all of it goes back to the ground. 21 Who knows whether a human spirit goes upward or whether an animal spirit goes downward to the earth? 22 I saw that there's nothing better for people to do than to enjoy their work because that is their lot [in life]. Who will allow them to see what will happen after them?

Daudziem no mums galvā esot biezpiens.
"Es negribu. Es nevaru. Ko es vispār šeit daru? Salīdzinājumā ar citiem esmu sūds. Kā es varu sevi vispār saukt par mūziķi, ja mans kursabiedrs ir jau tik daudz sasniedzis? Ja nu mani nevienam nevajadzēs? Mūsu ir pārāk daudz. Konkurence. Vai es varēšu kaut ko vispār nopelnīt? Varbūt vispār mācīties kaut ko citu? Kāpēc man mēnešiem jāstrādā pie vienas dziesmas, un tik un tā tā nav laba?"

Tāds biezpiens.
Daudz kam jau esmu tikusi pāri, bet visam nē. Tie ir tikai tādi posmi, kam jāiziet cauri.

I'm just going through a phase right now. Everybody goes through phases and all, don't they? /Salinger 'Catcher In The Rye'/

Being thin. Probably not a subject that you ever expected to read about on this website, but my recent trip to London got me thinking...

It started in the car on the way to Leavesden film studios. I whiled away part of the journey reading a magazine that featured several glossy photographs of a very young woman who is either seriously ill or suffering from an eating disorder (which is, of course, the same thing); anyway, there is no other explanation for the shape of her body. She can talk about eating absolutely loads, being terribly busy and having the world's fastest metabolism until her tongue drops off (hooray! Another couple of ounces gone!), but her concave stomach, protruding ribs and stick-like 13 AP, arms tell a different story. This girl needs help, but, the world being what it is, they're sticking her on magazine covers instead. All this passed through my mind as I read the interview, then I threw the horrible thing aside.

But blow me down if the subject of girls and thinness didn't crop up shortly after I got out of the car. I was talking to one of the actors and, somehow or other, we got onto the subject of a girl he knows (not any of the Potter actresses - somebody from his life beyond the films) who had been dubbed 'fat' by certain charming classmates. (Could they possibly be jealous that she knows the boy in question? Surely not!)

'But,' said the actor, in honest perplexity, 'she is really not fat.'

"'Fat" is usually the first insult a girl throws at another girl when she wants to hurt her,' I said I could remember it happening when I was at school, and witnessing it among the teenagers I used to teach. Nevertheless, I could see that to him, a well-adjusted male, it was utterly bizarre behaviour, like yelling 'thicko!' at Stephen Hawking.

His bemusement at this everyday feature of female existence reminded me how strange and sick the 'fat' insult is. I mean, is 'fat' really the worst thing a human being can be? Is 'fat' worse than 'vindictive', 'jealous', 'shallow', 'vain', 'boring' or 'cruel'? Not to me; but then, you might retort, what do I know about the pressure to be skinny? I'm not in the business of being judged on my looks, what with being a writer and earning my living by using my brain...

I went to the British Book Awards that evening. After the award ceremony I bumped into a woman I hadn't seen for nearly three years. The first thing she said to me? 'You've lost a lot of weight since the last time I saw you!'

'Well, I said, slightly nonplussed, the last time you saw me I'd just had a baby.'

What I felt like saying was, 'I've produced my third child and my sixth novel since I last saw you. Aren't either of those things more important, more interesting, than my size?' But no - my waist looked smaller! Forget the kid and the book: finally, something to celebrate!

So the issue of size and women was (ha, ha) weighing on my mind as I flew home to Edinburgh the next day. Once up in the air, I opened a newspaper and my eyes fell, immediately, on an article about the pop star Pink.

Her latest single, 'Stupid Girls', is the antidote-anthem for everything I had been thinking about women and thinness. 'Stupid Girls' satirises the talking toothpicks held up to girls as role models: those celebrities whose greatest achievement is un-chipped nail polish, whose only aspiration seems to be getting photographed in a different outfit nine times a day, whose only function in the world appears to be supporting the trade in overpriced handbags and rat-sized dogs.

Maybe all this seems funny, or trivial, but its really not. Is about what girls want to be, what they're told they should be, and how they feel about who they are. I've got two daughters who will have to make their way in this skinny-obsessed world, and it worries me, because I don't want them to be empty-headed, self-obsessed, emaciated clones; I'd rather they were independent, interesting, idealistic, kind, opinionated, original, funny - a thousand things, before 'thin'. And frankly, I'd rather they didn't give a gust of stinking chihuahua flatulence whether the woman
standing next to them has fleshier knees than they do. Let my girls be Hermiones, rather than Pansy Parkinsons. Let them never be Stupid Girls. Rant Over.

/Joan Kathleen Rowling/
www.jkrowling.com

When you don't want to feel, death can seem like a dream. But seeing death, really seeing it, makes dreaming about it fucking ridiculous. Maybe, there's a moment growing up when something peels back... Maybe, maybe, we look for secrets because we can't believe our minds...

***

What world is this?... What kingdom?... What shores of what world? It's a very big question you're faced with, Susana. The choice of your life. How much will you indulge in your flaws? What are your flaws? Are they flaws?... If you embrace them, will you commit yourself to hospital?... for life?
Big questions, big decisions! Not surprising you profess careless about them.

Girl, Interrupted

Tas, ka esi sieviete, nenozīmē, ka visas durvis tev būs atvērtas. Gluži otrādi- jābūt divkārt profesionālai, divkārt gudrai, lai tevi pamanītu. Ar sarkano kostīmu vien nepietiek, jābūt dubultā labākai.

Iveta Sers

“…galvenais ir – sevi baigi mīlēt. To man vienreiz dzejniece Inga Gaile teica. Ka nevajag domāt, kāda esmu, – tāda vai šitāda? Ka nevajag nevienam sevi pretnostatīt, bet vienkārši mīlēt. Īpaši, ja tu esi tāds drusku jocīgāks trāpījies, dzejnieks vai kas tur vēl, kuram apkārt viss kopš bērnudārza tā vien kliedz “psihs psihs!” To es nesen sapratu un beidzu bēdāties.”

/Agnese Krivade/

Bernie: But she said she wanted to go out with you?
William: Yes - sort of...
Bernie: That's nice.
William: What?
Bernie: Well, you know, anybody saying they want to go out with you is... pretty great... isn't it...?
William: It was sort of sweet actually - I mean, I know she's an actress and all that, so she can deliver a line - but she said that she might be as famous as can be - but also... that she was just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.
[pause]
William: Oh, sod a dog. I've made the wrong decision, haven't I?


Notting Hill (1999)

"Neticēt patiesībai, nozīmētu nonākt pretrunā pašam ar sevi. Ticēt nozīmē domāt, ka kaut kas ir patiess. Teikt, ka patiesības nav, ir diezgan muļķīgi, jo pats apgalvojums „patiesības nav” jau ir patiesība.
Psiholoģiska drāma par ticību, paštaisnumu un cilvēku atbildību. Par to, ka pasaulē nepastāv tikai melnais un baltais, ka patiesība var būt dažāda."



JRT

"It kā jau nekas netiek ne dots, ne atņemts... ir tikai tā sajūta... kā sažņaugta dūre... un tad pēkšņi tev kāds paziņo, ka dzīvot atlicis tikai pāris dienu... tu saproti, ka vēlies atplest savilktos pirkstus... ka vēlies aptaustīt pasauli... bet ir jau par vēlu... tevis paša dūre jau visu ir sašķaidījusi... un, galvenais, ka nav ne mazākās nojausmas- kad, pa kuru laiku un kāpēc tu to neesi pamanījis... it kā visu laiku pašā centrā, viducī, siltumā... un tad pēkšņi tev nav vairs nekā..."

/Dace Rukšāne/