-an OD of Love-

When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, I've got something to tell you. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.   Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the topic calmly. She didn't seem to be annoyed by my words, instead, she asked me softly, why?   I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night, we didn't talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Jane. I didn't love her anymore. I just pitied her!   With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement that stated that she could own our house, our car, and a 30% stake in my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent te

Ah, the good old days when Roman Emperors felt a bit threatened and decided to distract the masses with gladiatorial games and free bread. "Panem et circenses," they called it. How quaint and simple those ancient Romans were, right? But wait, are we really so different? Here we are, Malta, in the thick of an election campaign to choose our European Parliament representatives and local councilors. Meanwhile, we’re embroiled in a serious political crisis with a former Prime Minister about to be dragged to court. Sounds like a gripping drama, doesn’t it? But no, our attention is captivated by Kyannah, Kyonne, and Kyra, the latest human spectacles. Who wouldn’t prefer watching beautiful people in bathing suits, knocking back champagne, over middle-aged men in suits shouting at each other? It’s so much more... relaxing. And it’s definitely not a coincidence. Just when we need to do some serious thinking about our country’s future, out comes another dazzling distraction. Remember h

Six months suspended sentence for the man who caused the death of Johanna Boni in a crash in Naxxar? In my bloody country, a person’s life means so little! I am outraged that Carmel Cauchi was sentenced to a mere six months in prison, suspended for one year, after the Court of Appeal accepted the Attorney General’s appeal and found him guilty of causing the death of 26-year-old Johanna Boni in a traffic accident in Naxxar eight years ago. This man was also found guilty of causing damage to the victim’s motorcycle and of reckless driving. The fatal accident occurred on 5th January 2016 in Labour Road, involving a cement truck driven by Cauchi and a motorcycle ridden by Boni. In March of last year, Cauchi was acquitted of all charges and penalties by the First Court, which ridiculously concluded that the victim lost her life because she took the risk of overtaking the truck instead of waiting for it to move so she could safely pass from behind. However, the Court of Appeal rightly conclu

 Here's the blunt reality: No one gives a f*ck!.  That new job you’re bursting to brag about, that daring haircut you're now regretting, whether you had a salad or a cheesecake for lunch—absolutely no one cares.  Your vanity tricks you into thinking the world will adore you. Your anxiety convinces you the world will mock you. Both are utter nonsense.  Everyone is too wrapped up in their own drama to notice your new job, your tragic haircut, or your bloody lunch. The sooner you grasp this, the better.  Take this chap, for instance:  “I used to obsess over my appearance. Constantly fretting about what people thought of my clothes, desperate to make the perfect impression, even on random strangers. I was a wreck, unable to enjoy hanging out with friends, always second-guessing my looks.  So, I quizzed my friends and family: describe the last person you met and what they were wearing.  And surprise, surprise—not one could recall the clothes, the style, not even the hairstyle of the

 Paolo Villaggio: The Maestro of Italian Dark Comedy In 2024, the much-anticipated production "Com'è Umano Lui," aired by Rai, captivated audiences with its brilliant depiction of Paolo Villaggio’s life and work. This film beautifully narrates the fantastic story of Villaggio, a legend whose dark comedy not only entertained but also offered profound insights into the human condition. The movie sheds light on how Villaggio’s characters and narratives have become a mirror reflecting the absurdities and trials of Italian society. Early Life and Beginnings Born on December 30, 1932, in Genoa, Italy, Paolo Villaggio grew up during a tumultuous period marked by the aftermath of World War II. His early experiences in a recovering nation profoundly influenced his comedic sensibilities. Villaggio's father, an engineer, and his mother, a teacher, provided a nurturing environment that valued education and intellectual curiosity. However, the harsh realities of post-war Italy als

In the sun-drenched streets of Alicante, amidst the roar of engines and the scent of burning rubber, I found myself facing a familiar foe: impostor syndrome. Yes, even I, the intrepid explorer of all things automotive, felt the icy grip of self-doubt as I prepared to test ride Kawasaki's latest offering—the Ninja 500 SE. As I swung a leg over the sleek green machine, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension. After all, surrounded by seasoned riders and industry veterans, what right did I have to be here? But as I eased into the saddle, all doubts faded away, replaced by a sense of exhilaration and anticipation. With a flick of the wrist, I set off into the bustling streets of Alicante, the Ninja's engine purring beneath me like a contented kitten. As I navigated the urban sprawl with ease, I couldn't help but be impressed by the bike's effortless agility and nimble handling. But it was on the open road that the Ninja truly came into its own. As I twisted th

Alright, so you want me to discuss these electric cars, or "green machines," as the environmentally conscious like to call them. Let's be honest, they're about as thrilling as watching paint dry—and that's if the paint is the same shade as a beige sock. I've driven a few of these EVs. They're quiet, sure, like a library full of sedated librarians. They're smooth, yeah, like a plate of lukewarm porridge. And they're "eco-friendly," which is just another way of saying they're about as exciting as a wet weekend in the Lake District.  Then there's the charging. You plug them in and wait for what feels like an eternity. It's like watching a snail cross a motorway. And don't get me started on the range. You drive for about 10 minutes, and the battery's already begging for a nap. It's like having a hamster powering your car. Now, compare that to a proper petrol engine. The roar, the rumble, the smell—it's a symphony o

 The legacy of the Honda CB750 isn't just etched in history; it’s blazoned across the annals of motorcycling with a big, bold marker. The CB750 was the motorcycle equivalent of a rock star, rolling into town and blowing everyone’s minds, leaving the competition scrambling to catch up. Its influence is still felt today, echoing through the exhaust notes of modern machines. Let’s delve a bit deeper into the development of this iconic bike. Picture it: Honda engineers, fresh off the success of the Super Cub, were tasked with creating something that would not just compete with the British twins but annihilate them. They needed a bigger, badder machine that would appeal to the leather-clad rebels of the road. In 1967, the blueprint for the CB750 began to take shape. Honda’s experience with multi-cylinder engines in their racing bikes, as well as small cars, meant they had the know-how to build a revolutionary engine. The air-cooled, 736cc, SOHC inline-four was both advanced and reliable

**Ikigai** is a Japanese concept that roughly translates to "reason for being." It’s a philosophy that encourages people to find joy and fulfillment in life by discovering the intersection of four key elements: 1. **What You Love (Passion)**: These are activities that make you feel alive and joyful. It's about the things you love doing, the hobbies or interests that excite and engage you. 2. **What You Are Good At (Vocation)**: These are skills and talents you have developed over time. It includes what you excel at, what others recognize you for, and what you do better than most. 3. **What the World Needs (Mission)**: This is about finding a way to contribute to society, solve problems, or fulfill needs that exist in the world around you. It's the aspect that connects your work to a broader purpose. 4. **What You Can Be Paid For (Profession)**: This focuses on the practical side, where your skills and passions meet the market’s demand. It's about finding roles or

Having attended the spellbinding performance of "Cabaret" at Teatru Manoel, I am compelled to share the sheer brilliance of this production. From the moment the curtains rose, the audience was transported to the decadent world of 1930s Berlin, where the Kit Kat Club served as the stage for a captivating tale of passion, intrigue, and societal upheaval. The cast delivered performances of unparalleled caliber, each member embodying their character with precision and depth. Sean Borg commanded the stage with magnetic charisma as the Emcee, while Maxine Aquilina mesmerized as the enigmatic Sally Bowles. Jason Scerri and Stephen Oliver brought authenticity and heart to their roles as Clifford Bradshaw and Herr Schultz, respectively. Among the ensemble, Neville Refalo's portrayal stood out, bringing a sense of authenticity and depth to the character of Ernst Ludwig. Refalo's nuanced performance added layers of intrigue to the narrative, leaving a lasting impression on the a

 It's essential to grasp this point and let it sink in: don't sacrifice yourself for a job that would replace you without a second thought.  I recently had a conversation with someone who was terribly ill last week but still forced themselves to work because their manager was short-staffed. That situation is beyond unreasonable. Here's the cold, hard truth: you are replaceable. It's a fact we often overlook or choose to ignore. Employers might preach about loyalty and dedication, but the moment you slip up, they won't hesitate to show you the door. No matter how much effort you pour into your work, how many extra miles you go, you're dispensable. One wrong move, a few written warnings, and you're out. Jobs aren't loyal. They'll discard you like yesterday's news if you step out of line. So, don't exhaust yourself for a job. Remember, they don't truly care. Your colleagues might feel a twinge of sadness, and you might get a polite farewell

In the tapestry of my thoughts, this madness weaves intricate patterns, each thread a fragment of my dreams, fears, and desires. It is the laughter that bubbles up from deep within when life feels too heavy to bear, the tears that cleanse my soul when the world becomes too much to endure. This madness is my sanctuary, a realm where rules are meant to be broken, where the impossible becomes possible, and where every flaw is celebrated as a stroke of brilliance. In the eyes of the world, I may be deemed eccentric, unconventional, or even downright mad. Yet, in the sanctuary of my mind, I am free—free to explore, to create, to discover the boundless depths of my being. For it is within this madness that I find my truest self, stripped of pretense and societal expectations, basking in the raw beauty of authenticity. So let the world call me mad, for I shall wear that title as a badge of honor—a testament to the vibrant tapestry of my mind, the madness that keeps me sane.

One of the saddest moments in our lives occurs when the door to our grandparents' house closes forever. Once that door is shut, the vibrant afternoons filled with aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, parents, brothers, and sisters become mere memories. Do you recall? There was no need for Sunday outings to restaurants; our destination was always our grandparents' house. During Christmas, Grandma would fill the air with the tantalizing aroma of her frying, while Grandpa meticulously tended to the roast, inevitably coaxing the chimney into releasing wisps of smoke. The table stretched endlessly, adorned in the grandest room. Now, the house stands shuttered, enveloped in silence and dust. No takers emerge for that cherished house. It may be old, in need of renovation, or too costly, and the whole building will be brought down, but what value can truly be placed on the sanctuary of our grandparents' home? Its worth is immeasurable. And so the years drift by. Grandparents serve as t

 I've been anxious since my late twenties, maybe even earlier. Despite seeing many doctors, I’ve never been properly diagnosed. Due to the stigma around mental health, I've been suffering without the medication or treatment I really need. I’m not looking for sympathy or to be seen as a victim. I just need to express what’s going on inside me. Being vulnerable like this isn’t easy, but I think it’s important. Understanding what anxiety truly is can help others see beyond the surface and realize that it’s more than just mood swings or irritability. Anxiety isn’t just being nervous or worrying. It’s when my mind races, and I can’t focus on a single thought. It’s the crushing pressure in my chest that feels like it’s going to explode. It’s snapping at a co-worker or feeling moody for no reason. It's spending the whole weekend stressed out, wondering if I’ll get fired for something I said on Friday. It’s random bursts of crying, laughing, or jumping up and down. And when I bail