Many Joys of Electricity

I wrote quite a long lament in here, just to witness how every word of it vanished when power cut payed me an unwanted visit.

I never understood why it is not possible to post these messages on parchment.

Severus Snape is property of J.K Rowlings, the author of Harry Potter -books the writings are mine though.

Too Darn Hot

It's so hot it's agonizing. As some of you might know, I'm quite precise with my style. I'd hardly endanger my authority by wearing some silly pants with cut-in-half legs or dressing some bright coloured, eye insulting sleeveless shirts. So as I'm clinging to the remains of my credibility by wearing black robes, I'm doomed to spend all these sunny and hot-as-a-steaming-cauldron days closely in the dungeons.

Severus Snape is property of J.K Rowlings, the author of Harry Potter -books the writings are mine though.


I know I have a certain reputation as a great misanthropist, but that's incorrect. I don't hate people, not all of them at least. There even are few that I, if not admire, respect.

I do hate faults, weaknesses of character, certain behaviour and deficiency though.

Some might say that I am a perfectionist. Well, perhaps, but I do tolerate certain amount of imperfection in man. Not many of us is perfect, I am aware of that, of course. But there is quite an amount of traits that I cannot stand.

First of all, stupidity. Pure, moronic, disgusting and plain stupidity. Even thinking about it makes me want to puke. I have had my share of being forced to face it and endure it in others, but as I said, I can't stand it.

Then there are those, who are well equipped with incompetence, lack of knowledge and sophistication, smugness, double standards and arrogance.

Against the common opinion, I can be compassionate and forgive faults of others if they only are humble enough and willing to admit their errors and change, but people rarely are. What agitates me most, to the state of huge rage, if I'm honest, is the total blindness of so many. There just are too many of those condescending, stupid and excruciatingly obnoxious, insufferable, unbearably intolerable people who think they are the top of the creation and are not shy to show it, but in fact they are nothing but a lousy excuse of a man (or woman).

Urban Dictionary puts it this way:


"A CRAZY MAKER" A block headed thick skulled pea brain. Concieted Random Arrogant Insensitive Geek
Someone who has a deep sense of self love. They lack insight into the people around them. They de-value and break down the people closest to them so they can achieve control. Manipulative mind numbing conversation about how they are feeling and why they are better is an earfull they are always ready to share. Sorry is a word they use strategically along with their mind games to squeeze every bit of life out of you. Craigin
I'd rather recieve a Hot Carl from the old man down the street then hang out with a Craigin Narcissist.

Severus Snape is property of J.K Rowlings, the author of Harry Potter -books the writings are mine though.

Her Voice by Oscar Wilde

I do enjoy the good quality poetry, as it has the ability to whisk a man off his mundane situation to the higher realms of life. It can either deepen the sorrow or lighten the burden, almost too heavy to bear.

Reading poetry is like browsing a spectrum of emotions, visions and experiences that one possibly never had the opportunity to undergo for real. But I'll say, it is real, even if it's experienced only inwardly, it still is real.

Her Voice

The wild bee reels from bough to bough
With his furry coat and his gauzy wing.
Now in a lily-cup, and now
Setting a jacinth bell a-swing,
In his wandering;
Sit closer love: it was here I trow
I made that vow,

Swore that two lives should be like one
As long as the sea-gull loved the sea,
As long as the sunflower sought the sun,--
It shall be, I said, for eternity
'Twixt you and me!
Dear friend, those times are over and done,
Love's web is spun.

Look upward where the poplar trees
Sway and sway in the summer air,
Here in the valley never a breeze
Scatters the thistledown, but there
Great winds blow fair
From the mighty murmuring mystical seas,
And the wave-lashed leas.

Look upward where the white gull screams,
What does it see that we do not see?
Is that a star? or the lamp that gleams
On some outward voyaging argosy,--
Ah! can it be
We have lived our lives in a land of dreams!
How sad it seems.

Sweet, there is nothing left to say
But this, that love is never lost,
Keen winter stabs the breasts of May
Whose crimson roses burst his frost,
Ships tempest-tossed
Will find a harbour in some bay,
And so we may.

And there is nothing left to do
But to kiss once again, and part,
Nay, there is nothing we should rue,
I have my beauty,--you your Art,
Nay, do not start,
One world was not enough for two
Like me and you.

(Oscar Wilde)

Severus Snape is property of J.K Rowlings, the author of Harry Potter -books the writings are mine though.

Another Friday the thirteenth

Isn't this a convenient coincidence, it was Friday the thirteenth when I last wrote here and apropos, it's another one right now. Fascinating.

Sometimes it feels as if my whole life was one prolonged Friday the thirteenth. I'm not complaining, how could I? It is such a pleasing privilege to be a wizard so well loved, highly appreciated and recognised, cherished by his students, admired by his associates, visibly valued by his colleagues and rewarded by his society, such an honour to be a man with great talent, remarkable skill, power and furthermore, blessed with good looks.

Need I say more?

Severus Snape is property of J.K Rowlings, the author of Harry Potter -books the writings are mine though.

Friday the thirteenth

What a lovely night to stay awake and occupy oneself with such a delightful task as writing a diary. I'd prefer sleeping though. I have suffered from insomnia quite a many years now. The giant bat they called me. Never knowing how accurate that actually was. Yesterday I stayed up all night. Hated every second of it. And yes, I did take my Sleeping Potion. Three dozes. Imagine my surprise when it didn't work and I still layed wide awake at four a.m. It has never had any effect on me, besides the ruddy pimples. I still regret those years in my youth when I stubbornly used it against my good sense.

Professor McGonagall, I mean Minerva, tried to persuade me this evening to take some warm milk with mashed banana and honey. I'd rather lie awake eternally and join the Cullen coven before force that pap down to my throat. You have to draw a line somewhere. There are always things that are worse than the worst. One just has to learn to distinguish the difference.

Merry friday the thirteenth. Because tomorrow will be the most revolting day of the year, I'll just stay awake and cherish every moment of this unlucky night and day as long as it lasts.

Severus Snape is property of J.K Rowlings, the author of Harry Potter -books the writings are mine though.

Happy Birthday To Me...

I just came here to inform all you countless readers of this blog that here I am, sitting at the party table, stuffing disgustingly sweet cake with heavy cream topping into my not so enthusiastic mouth, swinging my head (with a Birthday Cone Hat made of colourfully decorated paper) happily while listening my dear friends sing me "Happy Birthday to you", eager to get my hold on the promising pile of presents...

You didn't believe one word of it, did you?

Well then. These jubilees just seem to rush over me like never ending express train. Halloween, Thanks Giving, Christmas, New Year, Epiphany, Birthday... The worst is still to be expected though. It's the 14th of February. So compared to it, this might turn out to be almost like anyday. I'm ever so wishfull that it remains that way until the day is over.

Severus Snape is property of J.K Rowlings, the author of Harry Potter -books the writings are mine though.

Another ruddy new year ahead of me

The new year, bright, shiny and pure, holding possibilities and promises of new beginnings... for those dumb enough to believe it's mendaciously luring voice. So, nothing new for me there, is it? I'm more likely to wade my way through the same old, same old... Shouldn't be so confusing, so what's that stinging pain in my chest then? Sorry, I've no intentions to whine. It's just that new years should be illegitimate for those of us who has nothing to wait, nothing to hope for. Whining again, am I?


Happy new year to all of you, dumb ones. I know enough of man's nature not to wish all your dreams to come true. But maybe one of them. One tiny little fantasy that you didn't think was really important. May that be fulfilled and bring slender rays of happines to your ordinary life. That's all. It should be enough.

Severus Snape is property of J.K Rowlings, the author of Harry Potter -books the writings are mine though.