Sicut-Dico

Category: Can Be Done

  • Clown’s re-election requiem

    TW: politic

    I’m posting this from a car on my way back to Prague. A video of me explaining what can be done with this image will follow.

    the image was created by a friend of mine from Rostov on Don who is no longer a russian citizen btw. You can use it freely for any purpose.
    Black and white version (JPG)Download
    Original version (JPG)Download

  • Norway deal

    (CW: suicide, police and drugs mentions)

    This post is the hardest I’ve written so far. However publishing it seemed even trickier. I’m glad I made it though.

    WHY at all?

    I’d like to be very clear with my agenda behind making this story public:

    1. I’m not seeking revenge or punishment for people who were involved with me. I think they did their best.
    2. I’m not trying to shame the nation of Norway. I’m not considering myself in a position to judge here and my point is far deeper than nations.
    3. I’m not asking for pity or attention for myself here either. I’m okay now, unlike many. I’m telling this story exactly because I feel the power to. Because I’m still alive.
    4. I also know that people will see what they like to see. I can only give you my honest perspective of this all. Not much more.
    5. This story is told to share the feelings behind the events. Feelings have no concept of right and wrong, they simply exist.

    So do I. This story is also a compromise with myself. I’m alive to tell it and see where it brings us all.

    I decided to assemble the events in a timeline so my perspective can be seen better. But first I want to put all the cards on the table for people who don’t know me at all and give another set of warnings.

    Please stop reading if my words trigger you and ask for help. Send me an email if you have no one else to talk to, but allow me up to 48 hrs to respond.

    About me and my message

    I’m a hyper sensitive person, recovering alcoholic, who has only been living a mindful life for the last couple of years. While my own suicidal thoughts are slowly going away I have stronger intention to share not only my drinking story and episodes like this one but leave one message to all sensitive souls who feel like it’s just too much for them:

    it’s okay to feel what you feel.

    The world is broken, not us.

    Now let’s finally get to the story.

    DAY 1. noon – and first 5 people

    “What a cute doggie” – I said to my husband right before the moment that cute doggie ran to my direction and technically ruined our next 5 days of vacation. Not trying to blame the dog here. Just wanted to mention this detail to express my level of not being ready to have issues with my weed at that moment.

    (I admit, That was naive behavior. I wanted to see what I wanted to see. Maybe this is why this all happened to me in the first place. The universe has a habit of giving me harsh lessons.)

    The first group of people who processed us were the customs police of Kristiansand. They asked me to move the car to a special box where I handed over all my… drugs. I had two rolled joints with tobacco in my purse and a bag of weed in the luggage.

    Of course they still did a full search for more drugs. They stripped us naked in separated rooms, I had to wait extra for a female to do the procedure. All our belongings were dropped on the floor out of the car. I remember at least 5 different people involved. They were all polite to us, offered water, and when I asked how bad and how long it would be for us, they somehow told me both that it might take from a couple of hours to a full day but not much more.

    We all understood that the crime was not a real crime.

    There was no victim

    At that point I felt rather safe.

    Once the search was done they told me that now foreign police will come and talk to us. We were allowed to collect our stuff and put it back in the car. This is where the safe feeling started fading. I picked up my pillow from the not-exactly-shiny metal bench trying to not think what else had touched that bench before and almost puked.

    “I could have just not taken that weed with me. Or not kept it so open. Why do they treat me like a criminal? They sell this stuff over the counter just a few sea miles away.” – All those thoughts in my head were slowly turning into anxiety.

    Afternoon – and another 4 people

    Foreign police didn’t come. Instead, it was a couple of regular city police officers who said that I had to come with them and they delivered me to the foreign police office. When I asked what was happening to me, they said they didn’t know, but it should not take long.

    “Is it all my fault I’m going to be stuck in here? What do they want from me?” – I started panicking when they told me that they are not going to put me in a cell and made it sound like it was the good news part.

    I explained my previous experience and background. The people seemed to be trying to be nice to me. But they also didn’t know shit. They had no idea what would happen to me. Nor did they know what to do. They assumed it wouldn’t be too bad. But then I could see how this not too bad started fading away behind the frustration. I was still a criminal to them. A foreign criminal.

    It was a hard day not just for me. I could sense the frustration for everyone.

    At the end of the day they said I had to come back the next day at 12. And the day after. And another day. Until they figure out what to do with me.

    This is where it turned into a nightmare for me

    They did this to me in Russia. I had to visit the police daily and sometimes they would totally not accidentally hit me with a door or just simply into the stomach. I knew this should not happen in Norway. But overall I wasn’t sure what I could know anymore. I started thinking about death.

    This was all my fault. Again. I’m an addict who can’t survive sober. Why should I even try to survive? I realized that I had a pocket knife in my waste bag. It just ended up there after the search.

    I started wondering if killing myself in a police station would help them reconsider their ideas if I committed a crime or not. This was a strange moment when I had those thoughts they actually finished explaining to me how they don’t know what will happen next. They simply had to go home. They also could not see what was wrong with my panic about coming back tomorrow and the day after.

    I mentioned the suicidal part btw. This may have played a role in them allowing me to not show up for anything on Sunday but I’m not sure.

    We had a hotel booked not far from Kristiansand. A fancy one of course. I knew I needed help and thought somehow the people in the hotel would know what to do.

    I was very straightforward at the reception: I said, I have a mental health crisis and very strong suicidal thoughts. Can I talk to someone? Can you help me find a hot line?

    They did give me a number. But no one picked up there. I survived that night because my husband was there for me. I don’t know if I could have done it alone. But I for sure realized that night how bad alone can be for people like me.

    Day 2 (+3 new people involved)

    I woke up and started crying. I almost could not talk. Felt frozen. Wanted to die.

    I clearly remember how I was also wondering if killing myself on the main square of this town was better idea? Rather quickly I decided that it was not. Other people didn’t deserve to see it.

    In the meanwhile we arrived back at the office where things went from not too bad to no one can tell what was happening.

    What started there was absolutely unimaginable. For me. For everyone else first it seemed like a normal day. Of course, again completely new people met me at the police station. New shift I guess. But it was 3 of them at once, and one was always standing around the entrance with arms crossed on the chest.

    Language torture (+1)

    They came up with the text that would inform me about my rights and they had to deliver it to me. Guess what? They brought a Russian speaking person to read it (on the phone, but still +1 more person involved) . And I’m ready to bet, this person worked for the investigation committee in Russia before. I just know how they talk. I had hoped I could forget that.

    This is where the real torture started. They first didn’t even understand what they did to me. Part of my mind was still telling me – they can’t beat you up. But what’s the difference? I already wanted to die.

    The text was ridiculous. Well. Now I know. They were telling me what kind of crime I had committed and that the punishment would be expelling me and also cancelling my residence in the EU.

    The cruel part is that at the moment I didn’t know how impossible this was. I mean they could expel me, but not cancel my residence. However in the moment the trick worked – they scared the shit out of me.

    They almost made me believe that I committed a crime.

    At that point they kindly allowed us to leave. Of course still holding on to my passport and expecting me to come back on Monday at 12. For what? The next step. What kind? No one knows.

    They were all very confident that they were simply doing their jobs. However I can’t not leave a remark here that they also multiple times called Czech Republic “Czechoslovakia”. Since my residence in from Czechia.

    Not sure what else to tell here.

    day 3. Waste of fuel

    The next day they called me and told me that they decided to stop the case because they actually realized that they can’t cancel my residence. So they also decided to not kick me out.

    I was of course happy to hear they finally did what the first people processing me expected them to do on the first day. They will fine me and leave in peace.

    Honestly – even a fine I consider unfair and stupid. But it’s not the topic. At that point I was happy to pay the fine and be free.

    BUT

    They still had my passport and we drove 200 km away from Kristiansand. The police people knew about this. All of it. That we had a boat booked in Stavanger with 4 others a long time before the pandemic. That we were going to be on this boat and then drive back EXACTLY through the same town.

    So I thought maybe we could pick up my passport on the way back. Since they already wasted 3 days of my vacation and also so we didn’t waste fuel driving back and forth for reasons that no one can explain in short words.

    What do you think?

    Of course they made me drive. I felt like this was a personal thing for someone there. If they can’t ruin my life, at least ruin one more day of my vacation.

    Day 4 (+1)

    Of course it was one more new person involved. Maybe it was the same person who talked to me on the phone the day before. But still. The total count of people that were involved with me and my weed was by then at 14.

    But this is it. Now, after more than 6 months I haven’t even received a fine. I guess they got the part that they made me pay with my time and health.

    14 people for 4 days were highly paid to do things described above for the sake of safety of their fellow society members.

    Here we are. No call to action. Thanks for reading. Feel free to ask questions below or via email.

    Photos for this post are kindly taken by Lars, a Norwegian photographer that contacted me on Fetlife shortly after I got back from Norway
    I have nothing but an amazing experience meeting and working with him

    Here are the direct links to Lars’s websites: nudesnorway.com and milert.no

    Here is his Fetlife

    and of course there are more photos of me taken by Lars

    here is the link to see them

  • After-hammer; Thoughts and Feelings

    hope it went well

    The text below I sent to my lawyers in response to their “I hope everything went well” on my return from the outdoor performance that I call now the hammer message (that I went to deliver in person to the city of Prague’s police drugs department. Click here to read the message text)

    “Everything went perfectly, I couldn’t have imagined it any better. I arrived barefoot with my poster hanging from a hammer, and I stood in front of the drugs department for almost 3 hours.

    I hadn’t managed to prepare the Czech translation properly and had only used the text in English. So I expected very few people to understand my message. Maybe tourists, and they were really funny, some tried to give me money and realized that wasn’t the point.

    However, I’m proud and impressed by the way people reacted to my message. I’m proud and impressed by the way the police treated me. I didn’t feel threatened, but many of them approached me. They also took photos from the windows. They smiled. One of them called what I had done a performance art and asked me if it was right to call it that. One of them said “Good luck”. Nobody spat in my face. Nobody told me to leave.

    So I intend to come back with a version of my message in Czech and a slightly different structure of it.”

    How did I feel after?

    Calm. As if I’d done exactly what I had to do. I think that’s what you call being fulfilled. I wrote most of this the next day, but I decided to give it more time to see if I still feel that way later.

    Yes, I still do.

    I also feel grateful to myself for allowing this experience to happen. I think I’m still decoding what I learned that day. And for sure I’m still processing the feedback.

    Here’s a first glimpse of what I have to share.

    1st half-hour

    In the morning, the traffic wasn’t calm and I sensed a lot of anxiety in the driver. I told him I wasn’t in a hurry and when we arrived he was calmer than before. I suppose I took some of his anxiety with me.

    I arrived at 9:08 AM. I was full of anxiety, but it wasn’t mine.

    (I left home wearing flip-flops, but in a taxi, I immediately took them off and put them in my bag. Touching the ground with my naked soles was somehow calming me down.)

    The first hour was the slowest, the easiest on my mind, and perhaps the hardest on my body. I chose the spot, took my hammer out of the bag, put the poster on it, and started to meditate on my breath to slow it down. I looked at the buildings, the trees, the windows, the cars, and the people.

    I recognized smells and heard sounds, but above all, I concentrated my mind on a single task.

    To stay as far away from judgment as possible. Just to observe and be there. I only wanted to bring the message. I was the message.

    The first people to interact with me were tourists. They tried to give me money. A coin.

    I wasn’t prepared for that at all. I didn’t accept the coin. They insisted a bit. Not verbally. They spoke German in front of me, assuming I couldn’t understand them. While I was thinking about what I could say to them in German, they left.

    My body tensed up after that. The longer I stood there, the more uncertain I felt. I wasn’t cold, even though I was dressed very lightly, but I was frozen. I could feel different levels of anxiety from outside, absolutely everyone around me was more or less anxious, whereas in my mind alone I felt peacefully numb.

    I saw a lawyer arriving late to an anxious client, people waiting for an appointment without knowing what was going to happen to them, people arriving and parking anxiously, forgetting things in their car, typing something on their phones.

    All kinds of anxiety were somehow presented to me there

    How do I know that? Anxiety has a particular smell for me. It’s slightly bitter. I wish I could explain more.

    At the time, I found it interesting to observe the extent to which anxiety allowed others to notice me. For example. The most anxious didn’t see me at all.

    The construction workers smiled at me a lot. They were the calmest people I’d encountered there. And I started to smile back. And almost immediately I felt my body become lighter and stronger. That was the key.

    I started smiling at windows, at people in cars, and even at grumpy faces.

    When the first two people who obviously worked in one of the buildings came up to me and nodded, I smiled at them, probably like an idiot. They were standing in front of me and really reading my text, line by line, both of them.

    I was ecstatic to have the chance to observe them so closely, but I also felt that my main aim at the time was to make them feel as comfortable as possible when reading my text. I tried to give them space and not stare at them all the time. It wasn’t easy. I was curious to see their reactions.

    The second half of the hour

    The later it got, the more people there were in the street and the more overwhelmed I felt.

    My original idea was to change places every 30 minutes or so. But when I got to the second place, some lady came and told me I wasn’t supposed to be there.

    So I moved 30 meters and realized I was in front of the drugs department. The universe had spoken. I changed my plan and stayed there for the rest of the time.

    2nd hour

    After 10 o’clock, the street really came alive. More clients and lawyers. More cars. More tourists. More anxiety.

    I smiled at the windows and noticed that I was being photographed.

    A lady from a nearby Kostel came up to me and said that we should find God together in church. I replied that I had already found God who had told me to be exactly where I was. To do what I was doing. I didn’t even feel weird saying that. I meant it. I still mean it.

    The lady didn’t like my answer. She looked at me disappointed and walked away mumbling something unclear.

    3rd HOUR

    After 11 o’clock, I had to move back, closer to the wall of the building, so as not to disturb passers-by. Once or twice I had to ask people who stopped to read my message not to block the whole street. I knew I’d need a break soon. But the situation was getting more and more interesting.

    I found it particularly fascinating to observe again and again how some people seemed to be eager to tell me what they were thinking, but when someone else approached, they stopped talking and walked away. As if they could only speak with me when no one else was close.

    I left just before midday. At first, I thought I’d take a break and come back. But my body sent me a few clear signals that the show had to be over with that. And my mind agreed that we should come back with the message in Czech.

    I think that was the most important thing I realized that day. It’s definitely the language I want to learn and speak.

    Why did I do this?

    I think that was the question that was asked the most that day. Not only from the people in uniform but also from strangers. Some asked me if it was personal. Had they done something for me? Or a friend of mine? One Canadian dude really tested my patience by asking me to tell him whether I was for or against the police.

    I continued to say that I was there to serve art and love. And to point out that we don’t prosecute for tools like hammers, but we do for other tools like drugs.

    I felt like someone had to do what I did

    We don’t have to be stupid squirrels. We have god-like technologies and tools already and acting rather medieval when it comes to regulating them. This can change. We just have to stop acting as if we know what’s right and wrong. We don’t. Not yet.

    It was not an act of protest. Neither did I try to support anyone.

    To be completely honest – I had no clue why I was doing it until it was done. Until I was there.

    Now I know

    Or let’s say I know more than before. I needed this experience to understand my own strengths and weak spots even better. It was quite a therapy for me. Especially the feedback I received after.

    Now I know I’m not alone for sure. I always thought so. But now I really know.

    I’ll share more on this topic soon. Thank you for reading this. If you like what I’m doing consider supporting my work.

    Photos by Paw Patrol. Proof-reading – Gene Bogolepov.

  • Preaching for mutual understanding

    (CW: war, languages and nations)

    LET’S START WITH THE MAIN THING

    IT WILL END. PUTIN IS A DEAD MAN

    The occupied territories will be returned to Ukraine.

    Crimea will be returned to Ukraine.

    All who owe will pay. Living and dead.

    No one involved will be unaccounted for.

    Here you can find out more about how to put the above into effect through a variety of actions.

    This draft text was written on 30/09/2023. I know since then we got into another old war, but it doesn’t the one that is already up.

    NOW HERE’S A STORY ABOUT SAYING GOODBYE TO MY ‘FUCK PUTIN’ CAR

    Well, and a little more to the power of words.

    The car was handed over to 1uahmatters in August this year. At the beginning of the summer, I realised that it probably wouldn’t be possible to legalise the car, and I first joked in the lawyers’ office that if the car didn’t work legally in the Czech Republic, we’d give it to Ukraine and it would be fitted with a machine gun. Everyone laughed nervously, then moved on.

    But I really liked the idea and it didn’t take two months to put words into action. I have to say that I’ve never parted with a car so easily and pleasantly. Even if, in the past, I had been given money for it. Thanks to everyone involved!

    By the way, 1UAHMatters has set up a website where you can sign up to donate as little as 1 UAH. I won’t tell you what to do, but here’s the link.

    Translation issues

    As this post was originally written in Russian and is aimed directly at the audience who knew me in my previous life, some parts of the text lose meaning in translation, while others are already crystal clear to my English-speaking peeps here. However, there is an important metaphor. An important metaphor that I ask you to register in your mind. And to share your opinion if you wish.

    Let’s call it a “gas cage” metaphor

    Over the past year and a half, I’ve traveled Europe in a car with a terrorist state’s license plates along roughly from Tallinn to Stavanger and across, somewhere from Berlin to Athens.

    There were all sorts of things. 

    For instance, I once talked to a “Russian” who was born in Estonia, now lives in Norway, has never been to Russia, but speaks basic Russian, and is very worried that somehow he is not very well-liked around for his Russianness. I remember thinking then, what does he have in common with Russia apart from the language?

    At moments I thought I could write a book. “How I found and lost faith in humanity 42 times before I realised what was wrong with the cycle itself.” But I got over it and the book was cancelled. It wasn’t about humanity at all. And it wasn’t even about me. I thought for a while longer that it was about the language. Russian oc. And I was wrong, too.

    But after a dozen meetings with Russians of varying degrees of aggression in different parts of Europe, something began to hit me.

    The problem is languages per se. More precisely, many people lack the ability or experience to think in different languages. To feel the nuances of culture through them. One language locks people into bizarre cages where culture and tradition are intertwined with trauma and identity issues. I’ve written and spoken about this before.

    The cage, in which these very minds have been locked up for the last hundred years, has been turned into an isolated horror bunker, slowly filled up with some moderately toxic gas. The inhabitants of this bunker/cage are convinced that you can’t turn the gas off, you can only change it to a more lethal one, so you have to put up with this one. And so they do.

    WHY? NOBODY KNOWS ANYMORE. SOME TOLERATE IT OUT OF FEAR SOME OUT OF HABIT

    That, by the way, was the bad news right now, and overall the saddest and most dramatic part of the post. You’re doing great if you’re still reading. I’m proud of you!

    THINGS WILL GET EASIER FROM HERE ON OUT. BUT NOT FOR ALL

    The good news is that I’ve met a lot more people who speak Russian by birth but also speak two or three or more other languages, who have managed to turn off the gas and get out of that cage. And I continue to meet them — almost every day.

    Except that, we often don’t speak the terrorist state’s language with them. Otherwise, sometimes the gas starts unexpectedly, so we have to ventilate the room. Uncomfortable.

    This language is simply punished on my end, for one thing. And sometimes it’s just impractical.

    It only means there won’t be many russian texts. I still speak it, especially with some of my loved ones. Many topics are important to me, I just don’t live in the realm of the russian language. This is primarily a matter of my mental health and productivity.

    ***

    THE SERMON FINALE

    As to a key takeaway – there’s none. But there is a hint, nevertheless: Only love, compassion, and cooperation can bring us forward. 

    Today I can definitely say only one thing: every free person with pocket money right now can make a donation of one UAH. And it will definitely help people who are dying right now for the freedom of the very knowledge that you can switch off the gas.

    Publisher/Editor: Gene Bogolepov

  • Preaching à la russe

    (Content Warnings: improper rusky language, war, suicide. The version in English is coming)

    (!) Внимание. Это сложный пост. Он может вызывать амбивалентные чувства.

    “Тут все иносказательно, но я в душе не ебу как другим рассказать это.”

    Неваляшка. Song by Oxxxymiron.
    Начнем сразу с главного?

    Перечитывая свой блог недавно, я сильно удивилась тому, сколько мелочей, о которых я там где-то вскользь желаю, стали уже реальностью как бы сами по себе.

    Я понимаю, что это не ультимативно работает, но когда* клоуны устраивают свои кровавые танцы на площадях, мне эту мысль особенно хочется записать, опубликовать, пожелать, станцевать, сука, с бубном. Короче!

    Это (т пиздец) закончится!

    putin is a dead man

    Отжатые подлостью территории вернутся Украине.

    Крым вернется Украине.

    Заплатят все, кто должен. Мертвые и живые.

    Никто из причастных не отмоется.

    По ссылке можно узнать больше как приблизить наступление написанного выше конкретными действиями.

    *драфт текста написан 30/09/2023, изначально я хотела дать ссылку на то, что за повод у концертов, но передумала. Ничего важного там не случилось. Это как раз все забудут.

    Теперь давайте поясню за тачку

    Ну и еще немного за силу слова.

    Тачка отдана донатом в 1uahmatters в августе этого года. Но еще в начала лета мне стало понятно, что скорее всего легализовать машину не получится, и сначала я в шутку сказала вслух в кабинете у юристов, что если не выйдет ее оформить легально в Чехии – то отдадим машину Украине, они поставят на нее пулемет. Все нервно хихикнули тогда, но дальше переключились на что-то еще.

    А мне идея очень понравилась, и вот, смотрите, от слов до дела не прошло в итоге и двух месяцев. Я должна сказать, что никогда так легко и приятно не расставалась с машиной. Хотя раньше мне за них давали деньги. Спасибо всем причастным!

    Надпись на футболке: КИЕВСКИЙ РЕЖИМ
    Отдельное спасибо ребятам за готовность к фото, коммуникацию, гибкость и апдейты по ходу пьесы. Дякую, хлопці!

    Кстати, 1UAHMatters сделали сайт, где можно оформить донат от 1 Гривны. Я не буду говорить вам что делать, но вот тут ссылка еще раз.

    Теперь за блог и язык

    За прошедшие полтора года я проехала Европу на машине с русскими номерами вдоль примерно от Таллина до Ставангера и поперек, где-то от Берлина до Афин.

    Было всякое. В моментах думала что можно бы книгу написать. “Как я нашла и потеряла веру в человечество 42 раза, прежде чем осознала, что не так с самим циклом”. Но я справилась и книга отменяется. Это было не про человечество вообще. И даже не про меня. Я еще какое-то время думала, что это было про язык. Русский. И тоже была не права.

    Проблема в языках как таковых. Точнее в отсутствии у многих способности или опыта мыслить на разных языках. Чувствовать через них нюансы культуры. Один язык – запирает людей в очень странные ловушки, где культура и традиции переплетаются с травмой и вопросами самоидентификации. Я об этом и писала, и говорила уже, но тольком не понимала как же оно работает.

    Поговорив как-то с одним “русским”, который родился в Эстонии, живет сейчас в Норвегии, в России никогда не был, но говорит базово на русском, и очень переживает, что как-то его не очень любят вокруг за его русскость. Я тогда помню зависла на мысли, а что его вообще связывает с Россией кроме языка?

    И вот после десятка встречь таких руцких разной степени агрессивности в разных точках Европы до меня таки стало кое-что доходить.

    Коробочка, в которую эти самые умы заперты последнюю сотню лет с хуем, превратилась в бункер с хоррор аттракционом, который травит обитателей слезоточивым газом и убеждает, что выключить газ нельзя, можно только поменять на более смертельный, так что надо терпеть этот. И они терпят.

    Зачем, никто уже не знает. Терпят из страха и по привычке, кто как

    Это, кстати, была плохая новость сейчас, и в целом самая печальная и драматичная часть поста. Вы молодцы, если еще читаете. Я горжусь вами!

    Дальше будет полегче. Но не всем

    Так вот. Хорошая новость в том, что я встретила значительно больше людей, говорящих на русском языке по рождению, но также владющих двумя-тремя или более языками, у которых получилось выключить газ. Я продолжаю встречать таких людей.

    Только говорим мы с ними часто не на русском. Иначе иногда газ запускается неосознанно, приходится проветривать помещение. Неудобно.

    Вот тут если вы поняли метафору, вам может стать полегче.

    И я фиг знает, дамы, господа, и небинарные персоны, как иначе донести то, что я чувствую. Так вот как-то несу, расплескиваю, прошу понять и простить авансом.

    это Последнее предупреждение из возможных, клянусь

    Щас может быть больно всем в месте где живет любовь к родине, это нормально, товагисщи, выдыхайте. У нас проблема токсичного родителя континетального масштаба. Она решится, обязательно, но мы с вами должны дышать глубоко и помнить зачем мы здесь. Это нормально, если кто-то чувствет не так как вы. В этом и прикол. Я за этим и делюсь с вами своими чувствами. Чтобы вы откалибровали свои.

    Так вот. Че я хотела вам донести?

    Русский из nот май мэйн лэнгвидж, Блять anymore

    Он наказан, во-первых. А иногда по-просту непрактичен.

    Это всего лишь значит, что текстов на русском будет мало. Я на нем все еще говорю, особенно с близкими. Но вот многие темы, которые мне важны, на русском я просто не живу. И вам не советую. Если уже на то пошло.

    Так ментальное здоровье оказалось проще поддерживать. Простите, если кому-то неприятно такое читать, я понимаю, вы возможно подписывались на гейство и рецептики, но у нас тут теперь порно и война.

    Не читайте дальше, если вас тригерит мой взгляд на язык или тема суицида

    Для всех, кто остался, давайте еще раз поясню текстом за всё что наслучалось: если вы знаете меня больше года, или не дай бох еще больше, вам сейчас может быть очень сложно меня понимать, даже если вы стараетесь, это ок, просто дайте себе время узнать меня заново.

    Я такое уже писала несколько раз, но мне важно чтобы все услышали меня так, как мне нужно.

    Версии меня, которая существовала до 24 февраля прошлого года больше с нами нет. И нет, я не в кислоте это пишу. Я вполне серьезно. Сейчас попробую обяснить почему это так важно.

    Когда война перешла в активную фазу, моя суицидалка сорвала резьбу и периодически ложила меня на такое ментальное дно, что страшно становилось уже не только мне. Ну точнее наверное стоит сказать, что я не могла больше не показывать черноту внутри.

    Я стала искать то ли причину, то ли способ, скорее что-то среднее, и отчасти помогло отключение языка и культуры, которые для меня были родными. Я по сути переизобрела свою личность заново. Без тригеров, без боли, без токсичных ловушек, без обид, с любовью к новой себе.

    Вроде бы все даже получилось очень себе ничего.

    Но было довольно непонятно что же делать с остатками уже не такой загадочной русской души. Это было последнее, что я в себе не любила. И с момента начала активной фазы войны полюбить эту часть стало еще сложнее. Сложность варьируется новостной повесткой.

    Финал проповеди

    А морали у басни нет.

    Мы с вами подвисаем в моменте, где я предложу вам пойти в мой блог на сайте, прочитать посты на английском, посмотреть на мою голую жопу как я жила в эти полтора года, и как минимум поставить форточку на свою коробочку попытаться понять мои месседжи.

    Со временем станет понятнее, обещаю. Но опять же не всем.

    Сегодня же определенно могу сказать вот только одно: каждый свободный человек с карманными деньгами прямо сейчас может оформить донат в одну гривну. И это точно поможет людям, которые прямо сейчас умирают за свободу самого знания о том, что можно выключать газ.

    Фото сделано в Hirtshals, Denmark

  • when a hammer is just a hammer

    CW: Police, suicide, activism, drugs

    Update. It’s 13:06 (25.07) I got back home and washed my feet, and now my plan is to briefly write down the things I want to share here and then I need to take some rest.

    I’m impressed. I knew it was the right thing to do, but I had no idea how kind this city is. Thank you, Prague! To everyone who stopped, who looked me in the eyes, who took pictures, who asked questions, to those who smiled, and especially to the grumpy ones.

    I love you.

    I know, my message was long and confusing. I’ll try to change it next time. Right now I have a lot of tension in my body because I was holding a hammer with my story hanging on it for almost 3 hours. But I never felt that free. And now I know a little bit more about how to phrase myself better. I know it’s hard to understand my motives. It’s okay.

    I didn’t go anywhere else. I thought I’d sit down, have a break and continue for another hour or two. But my body was not ready to do more. I can’t say it was my easiest performance. But it wasn’t hard either. I don’t know how else to tell you this. I felt like I was doing exactly what I had to do.

    …

    The text below is written by me today so I could print it and personally display it tomorrow in Prague’s city center. I plan to start here at 9 am and be there for 3-4 hours at least. I’ll keep my location updated. If anyone wants to come and talk to me or take a picture together. You are very welcome. Also, feel free to help me by sharing this post wherever you feel like. Thank you.

    Dear people of Prague, I’m standing humbled and grateful for the right to share my story with you. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not here to protest, and certainly not to judge anyone. I’m just a girl who sells herself on the internet and is happy to do so. Not really the judgment material, right? Good. That’s my goal.

    I’m here to say: thank you, Czechia.

    Also, I believe in you! Especially today!

    I believe that those whose duty is to judge today would do well to be very careful and remain human.

    I know we can. If anyone still can – I believe it’s you, the people of Prague.

    I am grateful for the free air I breathe here and I want to return the favor with the most precious thing I have: honesty.

    The ability to be naked. Not just physically. But also spiritually.

    This is a dark story about drugs and suicide. If you are feeling triggered, don’t read on and ask for help.

    I want to share what I’ve learned and what I think about drugs as someone whose classmates used to celebrate the end of the year with heroin.

    I was born in 1986 on a piece of the old Silk Road, russian territory, technically, but five times closer to Mongolia than to Moscow. 

    As far as I could find out: I’m half Dutch and half Ukranian if the linguistic and geographical characteristics of my origin are anything to go by. English is not my native, but the preferred language I speak at home.

    I’m a hyper-sensitive queer female, a former project manager, marketing strategist, and web developer who gave up on corporations and is only willing to serve art and love. 

    My cousin died from drugs at the age of 25. I started smoking weed at around the same time, when I was 13, at the same time as I tried alcohol and tobacco. But I mostly developed addictions to alcohol and tobacco. I only smoke weed now, for the last 1,5-2 years.

    I’ve tried to live sober. I can, technically. I did a lot of therapy and still do. I help other people to stop drinking now and find a lot of support in it. Living in Berlin I found a lot more souls like myself and I’m glad I’m not alone anymore.

    I just have one problem – from time to time I just can’t see the state of the world and feel like burning myself in the main square just to hit the lucky bingo. Put me out of my misery. And give you a reason to think that maybe everything isn’t going so well inside people like me.

    When I smoke certain strains of weed, I can forgive myself for not being perfect. For feeling what you call “too much”. I can self-reflect and understand myself better. That’s why I moved to the Czech Republic. I feel a bit safer here than anywhere else to be that kind of addict.

    I gave up smoking cigarettes only at 26 or 27. Alcohol addiction stayed with me until 32. I smoke weed for a few years now. I’ve never done anything I regret after being stoned. I can’t say this about alcohol.

    Legal drugs are the worst. Because they are everywhere. Because people keep offering you a drink even if you try to ask them not to.

    I’m sure I could easily live a sober life in a sober world. 

    But do we have one?

    We have to understand that the issue is not THE DRUGS AT ALL.

    The issue is the escape that more and more people are craving. 

    Desperately.

    To just break out from this cruel and harsh reality, we are all trapped in. Just for a brief moment.

    This May I went to Norway for vacation. I tried to bring weed with me. I was not hiding it. I just could not imagine this could cause any issues for me. I was stupid. So I was processed by the police there for 4 days and that caused me a mental health crisis. At least 12 people were involved. 

    12 people. for 4 days. were dealing with one suicidal girl and her few grams of a plant that is growing on our planet probably longer than we exist. 

    Is there logic?

    Why do we not ban tools like hammers and knives, but do this with other tools like drugs? How do we select good and bad drugs?

    Why do some people in the police believe that it’s a good idea to shake those kids selling the wrong drugs on telegram instead of looking at the other end of the mess?

    Is it just me seeing this as a very safe way for police to do their jobs technically but also only treat the symptoms and punish people who are the most vulnerable in the whole chain?

    Could it maybe be different if we try to protect the weakest? Not to punish them further for being vulnerable in the first place?

    Again. I’m just a girl who sells her body on the internet and advocates for art. I’m no one to judge. I just have questions. Or let’s call them thoughts to share.

    I don’t have the answers either. 

    I’m not talking only to the Czech Police here. I’m addressing everyone in the system all over the world who has a human heart.

    I’m only here to say that I think we can find our answers faster if we try to hear each other before we judge.

    Thank you for trying to hear me out. 

    Thank you for being a place I want to live FOR and AT. 

    If you’re still reading this and want to ask me a question, please do. In-person if you still can. Or by e-mail.

  • Midyear update for returning users

    (trigger/content)Warnings: money, politics, strong personal opinion, longread, no nudity)

    First of all, I feel very nice to know that I’m not just screaming into the void anymore and have more curious souls landing here daily to watch me.

    Welcome.

    However you got here.

    Who is this post for?

    If you are here to see how my project develops – this post is for you for sure. If you have your own project in development or only plan to start something, feel free to learn from my mistakes. You can send me a blank email to newsletter@sicut-dico.com to get updated without following me on social media.

    But let’s get to the screenshots below. Here I try to show you a bit of the dynamics of returning and new users over the last year according to google analytics.

    My plan is to update you on every 1000 unique users landing here until it gets either too fast or too boring. Now it’s getting more and more interesting every day, but it’s my perspective.

    Let me first explain what it means – to get 1000 unique users on an independent website. But while I’m doing this I’m going to ask you to try to not think of these 1000 users from the perspective if it’s good or bad. It’s neither. It’s just a step. It’s just a number.

    Half of this time or even more I had less than 30 users a month. In December 2022 I published twice more posts as during all the months before.

    I launched the store in April 2023.

    I have around 500 followers on Instagram, less than 300 on Mastodon, below 100 on Chaturbate and Fetlife, below 10 on Reddit.

    I had less than 10 orders through the store. Most candles I sell before taking pictures of them.

    So here I have to ask you and myself to stop evaluating and get back to observing. None of the things mentioned above are good or bad.

    From the side of my expectations, the candle business is going faster than I expected and most of the time I like it, the development of the audience is rather slow though. I guess the perfectionist inside me expected this to happen faster. Like a lot faster.

    Well. I’m very grateful to myself that I could actually take it so slow.

    The spikes represent the moments when I’d posted more actively but in general, I consider my posting activity quite low at this whole time and inconsistent.

    It’s good that it’s slow enough so it’s possible to actually see the magic later. Or the absence of it. Depends how you look, of course. Also, my posting consistency is getting better, obviously.

    But what is the price of this all? I received a lot of feedback. Positive, negative, constructive, judgmental, mixed, carefully sorted. Silence and ignorance count as feedback too. I got plenty.

    Why do I not care for followers on social media? How dare I write so much about myself? Why do I not run ads for myself if I run them for others? How is it so complicated and disturbing? Why do I price myself so high? Do I promise something, but not deliver it? Do I really want to sell candles or do I just want attention?

    generalised feedback from mainstream social media audience

    All those questions I received daily. The most invasive ones come usually as dm’s on Instagram. Some came from people who barely knew me, some from absolute strangers, funny enough even people whom I considered close to me tended to slide into my dm’s with one or two phrases generally telling me that I’m not fulfilling their expectations for some reason.

    That’s one of the things why I don’t like mainstream social media for. Their whole concept is toxic. Especially Facebook products – they are designed to help the black-and-white style of thinking to thrive and consume our souls.

    I’d like to keep mine away from that madness. As much as I can.

    So here is the compromise. I keep running my accounts on the evil soil because I can connect there with other like-minded people. But don’t generate content that benefits the platform and I for sure do not give it my own money anymore.

    If you are one of that returning users, you probably already got that. But I’m trying to make sure we are all on the same page.

    What is going on here now?

    This post is an explanation that will work only for people who are ready to understand. The speed of growth might change soon. So this post is also my intention to document the current statistics and comment on what I consider important to share right now.

    When we were in Greece, I got my old Instagram account unblocked with 6000 users who knew me as a russian-speaking blogger. It returned to me after almost a year-long ban.

    I didn’t advertise this website to them yet. I’m not sure they’ll all like what I have to say here, but I think some will understand.

    Here’s the link btw – if you only know me from my English-speaking side, you may have to use the translation function. It’s also a private account, since I posted anti-Moscow ideas last year I suffered my first bot attack, I don’t need to see it again. I add new real users 2-3 times a week, feel free to knock on my old life door if you’re real.

    Just keep in mind – the person who used to run that blog is dead. I’m not that person anymore. I might have inherited some of the values, perhaps some hobbies, but not all the stuff by far.

    I like how innocently touristic we look here with Gene

    That’s exactly why I created this site. To grow my own bubble of people who appreciate the same things and care about feelings in the same way. But this time with no chance for any platform to take away my right to connect with those who chose to connect with the new version of me. And it’s happening.

    Well. Like everything that happens to me, it’s a bit wild and full of complications, but it’s okay.

    Store orders, bookings and emails

    I’m still more or less a one-person operation. The people who help me are listed as co-creators but they all have their own projects, so I’m open to hiring more assistants for canbed.one purpose, my kinky projects and the general goal of the destruction of capitalism, but this will be unfolded in another post.

    I’m at least a week behind on emails, I’ll catch up by the end of this week.

    Shop orders are already underway, if you’ve ordered candles you’ll get updates by tomorrow evening

    I’m fully booked for July and August. If you’re thinking of hiring me this year, please get in touch now.

    What’s the plan further?

    Have I ever said that I dream to fuck capitalism with its own relics?

    It’s not just a pretentious phrase. My dreams have a high chance of becoming real if I focus on them. That’s exactly the part of the magic I’m trying to show you. Or the absence of it.

    But it’s not an easy task either. I’m going to need your help.

    I intend to keep going on the energy exchange where I give what I have to give, and those who have the intention to take the gifts can take them anytime they feel ready. The story will only get better with time.

    Next station is: money making factory

    Here we are getting to the part of the story that you can’t see at all unless I expose it

    My financial results from this project. (You can see the euro symbol on the screenshots, but google analytics doesn’t represent reality) Also, I need a good accountant to give you better money stats, but let’s start with some numbers today.

    In the first year, I got a bit more than 200 EUR from less than 15 people.

    In the last two months, I got more than 2000 EUR (from how many people – impossible to say, that’s why I need an accountant).

    But I think those who want to understand my point about sharing money dynamics got the point. Or hopefully a few points. I have no intention to write them down here, it’s too early. But I want to write a few more questions here.

    1. Would it be possible for me to even go this way without having a financial backup pillow from my old life?
    2. If I, a professional marketing specialist and business owner with 10+ years of experience, feel frustrated sometimes while promoting myself because it’s a completely different story, then how the hell are other artists without all this experience supposed to handle all this shit?
    3. Can we change the situation by exchanging our experiences more openly, actively, and with a higher level of transparency?
    4. How does talking about money often makes you feel?
    5. Have you ever thought about how useful it is to preserve the current state of the financial system if everyone more or less avoids talking about money unless absolutely necessary or feels uncomfortable asking for payments?

    Anyway. Call me crazy, but I want to live in a world where paying for something or being paid for something aren’t off-putting topics.

    There’s no shame in exchanging resources or power consensually.

    In this world, everything has a price. We pay with money, our time or our health, our kindness or our reputation, and some things cost some of us our lives. Nothing is free. We are the essential result of an exchange of energy, whether we like it or not. But the part where right now most of us are born already in debt does not have to stay.

    I’m sorry if that’s complicated.

    That’s why I’m here asking you to be patient and kind. I slowly understand myself and allow you to see the world as I see it. As I feel it. Not to make you feel the same. Not to evaluate things as right or wrong.

    I don’t have all the answers.

    I’m only the impulse.

    So the next step is the one where I help Gene with their financial strategy and focus on making communication about money more comfortable for us all.

    If you like what I’m doing you can support my blog here. If you want to follow our discussion about money specifically – send us a blank email with the word “money” in the subject field to newsletter@sicut-dico.com.

    Since you’re still here, let me give you a quick example of the toxicity of modern media. This is a photo of Gene eating seafood (which I paid for) after having a horrible, expensive coffee for breakfast (which I also paid for). It was literally the only enjoyable food we’d eaten in the last 48 hours, while Gene worked for me in multiple roles, 10-12 hours a day. But if you don’t know all this background and you see Gene asking for money for her grocery bills the next day, will you feel like helping her?

  • Ultimate warnings

    Please, read the content warnings in my posts carefully and do not continue if you feel uncomfortable. Ask for help. Or just ignore me.

    This post is my response to all sorts of unwanted feedback I’ve received so far and will be receiving in the future.

    it’s OK not to like what I do
    I didn’t choose to be born the way I am.

    it’s okay not to understand why I do what I do
    It’s fine to be confused. Be kind to yourself. That’s what we should all try to do more often.

    It’s OK to be different
    I don’t want to lose myself in self-promotion, but the world needs to know how I feel.

    Creating freedom is far more important than reach. So I refuse to waste my life on platforms like IG. It’s toxic for me and too fake. Even if most people will never click on my links and get to know the real me. That’s okay. Some will.

    I ask you to pay attention to my openness and not to play with the powers that come with it. I don’t exist to entertain you or for you to judge me.

    I exist to connect minds and build new bridges.

    This is my playground. My temple. And my artistic study (all that and so much more).

    Not everyone is ready for me. But if you understand me. Or at least want to try, you’re always welcome here. Feel free to be weird. Be yourself.

    There’s nothing wrong with asking questions. I think it’s cool to be curious. Remember how different we can be.

    just mind the content warnings!

    Love you,

    Sicut

  • SWSG LIVE MAY

    UPD – support group at 11 AM CEST is happening as planned, more info will appear here.

    My chaturbate room stays embedded at the end of the post. Next time I plan to be online on Monday the 29th of May. To join the Q&A session say hi to me via sw@sicut-dico.com

    19.05.2023 15:13 The first round of broadcasting is done, uploading the recorded video now, and will drop it here soon.

    Did eventually 2 rounds of broadcasting, received one token at the end, and one comment on Mastodon with a “thank you”.

    18.43 Now I feel like I didn’t say even half of what I wanted to say. But let’s count this as one more reason to continue.

    20.05.2023 11:59 Here is the recording from yesterday. My imposter syndrome was especially strong this morning telling me to not post the video because I’m too honest, too vulnerable, too stoned, and/or just not good enough. But I decided that I don’t have the right to judge.

    uncut and unedited so far – will reprocess it and add subtitles later if anyone else finds it helpful

    13:56 Asked Gene to look at the material, in the meanwhile sent a link for prepayment to a client and talked to another who picks up freshly done candles today. This is a moment to remind myself about my own rule. Actions are always better than words. I’m fully booked in May. June and July are half gone. I have more plans and clients to deal with than I can possibly take as a single human being. I sell candles faster than make them and I didn’t even start advertising the store yet.

    No, this is not an accident.

    Yes, I totally believe that other people can get there too and this world needs more happy sex workers and free creators of any kind of safe and fun experiences.

  • Can Be Done

    I thought I couldn’t go any further in terms of weird marketing after the candle store, but here we are.

    Life never gives up on educating us

    Last morning I drove White Orchestra to Prague from the cottage where we’d been hiding out for the past few days, including my birthday. After watching Sasha work remotely at her so-called real job, I wasn’t sure if she could handle the two jobs I had just offered her.

    We tried to reach the subway so she could get to the office by 9 am. We failed miserably btw. But thanks to the horrible morning traffic, we had an extra half hour to panic together and talk.

    Hearing parts of her endless company meetings was depressing, but also motivating for me in the end. I almost forgot how helpless you feel during those events especially if you need someone to approve something that is not 100% going to bring money right away.

    This is where I realized that I have another incredible power.

    I may be poor compared to all those Ritalin-infused people in suits, but I am free

    I can have a social media manager who doesn’t need to get each post approved. Does not have to take tickets for tasks and count their working time longer than she actually works. I can afford to trust the artist. Because I believe it can work. Because it’s not all just about money.

    And this is a perfect introduction to my pants-on project. The one that made me reconsider my affairs with Patreon recently.

    “Can Be Done” is meant to expose my knowledge and experience in marketing and business strategy for the sake of art and the financial freedom of artists. Also to provide them with the necessary technical support by sharing or creating opensource based solutions.

    CBD’s strategy is partly based on the so-called direct distribution approach (yes, the one Tupperware and Oriflame use), but slightly more sophisticated, where artists (I’ll call them CBD agents or simply the Agents further) will be able to use our magic and resources for their own needs first, and if they want to, they can later bring other artists on board to co-create.

    Non-toxic productivity exists in trying

    Each Agent can have their own tasks and benefits, but the general goal is to build a community of proactive creators and actually

    do

    make

    things

    happen.

    I originally intended not to publish a single article on CBD myself. Or to publish very little. And let the real heroes tell their stories instead. I believe in this because I already know many of those stories and heroes.

    But the biggest pleasure in all this for me is to see things grow from nothing, right before your eyes. That’s where the magic is. I just didn’t fully understand how to do it until now.

    Now I do. By exposing the communication. The rules. The steps. The exceptions. The failures and misunderstandings. Anything that can be useful. Everything that is important.

    I’ll simply start listing the names and tasks in posts here and we all can see what comes out of this. Sicut-dico.com is only one of the projects powered by CBD and WO’s first job will be to help me manage social media, on top of the visual directing that she is already doing.

    tasks for sicut-dico.com

    The main task of the social media manager at sicut-dico.com is to get more people to land here. As simple as that. (Some will read my posts, some will understand me, some won’t. A few will buy my candles. Others will be offended and hopefully wreck their device with a hammer find the “close” button.) Specific tasks in prioritized order are listed below.

    1) All public posts on this website should somehow be reflected on the Instagram feed. I see this as a gallery with screenshots of the website. Please consider the warnings and inclusivity, but otherwise feel free to put your own comment in the text fields. Also, you need to make my website content “safe” for Instagram, you know the drill. Start with the new landing page. Then go for the “social media statement” and “how to” posts (Some posts don’t have featured images. When you have something visual to add to posts upload it to the drive with proper naming and let me know).

    2) Once you have established some routine for Instagram, I’d like you to fill out my LinkedIn profile and think about posting strategies for it. I have someone who has agreed to consult on this, if you have specific questions, send them to me in text format.

    3) Next on the list will be Reddit. I have no idea what the strategy is for Reddit. I would like the solution to come from as many people as possible. Maybe we should ask the IG and Mastodon audience for advice on what kind of Reddit-proof content they would like to see.

    4) Please take over Sil’s email job for SD for now. Since you have her laptop anyway and need to learn the context especially. But once Sil is ready to take it back, you can hand it off to her and brief her. 

    tasks for canbed.one

    – Establish consistent communication with Gene, another Agent who actually has been testing our magic the longest. Discuss together the areas of work you are considering (we already have grants and music videos, but there may be more.) Try to prioritize them.

    – Start the hiring process for CBD (see task #4 for SD).

    – Add products to your profile post and start creating similar posts for Gene, another Sasha who works for CBD.

    CBD tasks are not ordered or prioritized yet, feel free to manage them at your own pace. Please assign deadlines yourself in our progress file for SD. There is no progress file for CBD yet, feel free to create it and share it with me and Gene, we definitely need one now.

    What is next?

    I’m rewriting CBD landing concept to fully get rid of Patreon mentions. I guess we should save some screenshots of the old version for history (Sasha, could you please grab this task too).

    One thing I know for sure. It might take a lot of energy to make words turn into action. So on top of the blog and individual solutions, I’d like to try to host weekly motivational support meetings for artists of any kind. Dates and topics TBA soon. Donation based.

    If you want to be updated via email send me a blank request to newsletter@sicut-dico.com

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