4 posts from February 2009

Madonna's coming to Hungary in August - no news. Ticket sales from today 10am - hooray. ... Hooray?

Well, after standing in the queue for like two and a half hrs, in the 1-2°C (frozen much?), at least my name was put on a list that might just be totally worthless. I mean, OF COURSE it happened (and no one believed me when I said it would): tickets went on sale, server crashed. Poor thing didn't have a chance against the roam of fans, apparently. The fun part? This was at the ticket office. Yep. And all them people there could say was "we have no idea", "we can't do anything", "we have no resources". Server crashed, and no one in the whole country (much less from outside, via the internet) could buy as much as one single ticket.

After a while, rumor started flying about the center having been able to sell some tickets - only problem was that the center was a bit farther away from the office I (and about two dozens of other ppl) had waited for about two hours, AND the queue THERE was said to have an end a few more streets away. So, take the time to go there and start from the back once again for a MAYBE, or stay on the spot and rather just wait that same time for the same MAYBE. I mean, if the official exclusive ticket office can't access the server, no one can, right? Supposedly.

However, by the time I got home, a friend of mine (who was all frantic about not even being able to get her ticket today, and it'll be prolly sold out by the time she'd get there) welcomed me with the message "I HAVE MY TICKET!". WTF? Yep, it turned out she was able to get her hand on a golden circle ticket (...No, she did not ask me if she could/should help. Thanks.) - in a goddamn BOOKSTORE. ... I was a wee lil bit annoyed. By the time I got there, only 4 ppl were in front of me, tho the woman doing it said they couldn't do shit for at least an hr. Nice. As I was standing and waiting (deja vu much?), a woman came in the store, asking casually - and that was when it hit my ears. Golden tickets are sold out. WTFH?!?!?! The ticket office can't access their own server and still tickets get sold out at 3rd party locations?! HOW. THE. FUCKIN. HELL. IS. THAT. EVEN. POSSIBLE?!

...So now, it's either true and idk what I'm gonna do (slit my wrists or some such? jk); or they had the brains to sort out who sells how many of each type, in which case my reservation is maybe still safe if that office really wasn't able to access their system all day - but frankly, after all this mess, I seriously doubt this.

*sighs* Why do the gods hate me so much?

What could it be like? A touch that comes from love, instead of need? A trailing finger that's exploring, rather than insecure? A texture, a scent of skin that's familiar, not new?

I envy her.

I want to hold you in my arms...sweet whispers in the ear...

Fix. Reliable. Constant.

A tentative arm around, for a heartbeat...reassuring? A wink, a smile...encouraging?

A lit cigarette in the ashtray. The bang of a pistol, smoke curling upwards... Calm, steady breathing. Forehead resting on pulled-up knees of the collapsed figure in the corner.

Nothing. Fear.

I envy her.

I wish I could... I want to know you more.

I should have, most probably, just deleted you by now. You've promised so many things...yet you never even come to just say hi or ask how I am. I know I shouldn't care, but I'm fucked up like that and so I do. And it hurts. It hurts because it's yet another lie again. You never tell me to go to hell. Never tell me that you hate my guts and I should be better off as a pile of rotting flesh and bones. I hate thinking of you. As far as I know (and I'm probably wrong, if things are as they are), I've never done anything to hurt or offend you. I used to cherish having you. Now I'm placing you lower and lower, in order not even to see what you write... you have your life going on. I just thought, the way it looked like, that I could be a tiny little part of it. You've never denied when I asked. But then, you never talk.

...

What's wrong with me? If I wrote an entry about myself, about what I'm looking for (which I'm told is normal) - it would be so seriously fucked up! Too long and too complex, even though it'd only be a sample, an essence of me.

Who am I? WHAT am I? And why am I?

...