tingling limbs

It has fallen asleep

A small spasm - I am awake

As the blood courses through my veins

I feel it become part of me again

Dare I move a muscle -

The tiny white stars are there to greet me

A paralytic, back from the dead

Reattaching the slumbering limbs to my body

Hours have passed like minutes

And consciousness - like a stray drop of rain

Trickling down

Towards some unidentifiable abyss

..which is probably warm

Like the colour of an orange,

Or the taste of good beer,

A lost lover's gaze

It has fallen asleep

A small spasm - I am awake.

a tendency to spiral

Šodien, liekas, noraudāju visu uz acīm uzkrāsoto. Biju pacentusies un izskatījos dikti smuki, tādēļ bija nepieciešami vairāki piegājieni dienas garumā. Sāk likties, ka šī un blakusesošās nosodītās padarīšanas ir karmiska atriebība par visādām pagātnes stulbībām. Bet - kaut kā viss vēl nav beidzies, (gan labajā, gan sliktajā nozīmē). Asaras aizstāj spekulēšana par kūku cepšanu.
Skumjas un bailes ir devušas iedvesmu projektā likt sēriju par raudošiem cilvēkiem.
Ceturtdien pirmo reiz kopš vasaras satikšu Katrīnu viņas iemīļotajā Index Cafē.
Priecājos par šī paragrāfiņa très smuko, gandrīz netīšām radīto labo pusi. c:

*ne uz visiem ekrāniem tā ir smuka. fak.

excitement & adverbs

NOWNESS is a channel I just started looking into, and I got pulled in by a series of five videos called "Define Beauty". http://youtu.be/z_wea5P6EuY
Numbers 2 & 3 in particular brought me back to the inspiration I had when I first wanted to make those silly interview videos, lacking the foggiest idea of what I wanted to bring out of them. Except for fascination with, and attention to detail, but I hadn't the means to carry the message out. I still don't, but the idea has come into focus, and that's the kind of focus that brings meaning, if only for a moment, to simple everyday action, so fuck. yes.

So, here goes: the concept of "humanity" has long since been lovely to me, and I want to get in on what each person feels they contribute to it. In the already existing (and exceedingly clumsy) interviews, I asked my subject an unorthodox question, or a series of questions, hoping to capture something of an essence in they way this person thought or spoke. I want to continue this, adding a certain scrutiny - focusing on physical details, vocal patterns, eye movements, all these things that make each person inexcusably, grittily, and captivatingly human.
Questions are also just one aspect. To thought and speech I'll add a myriad of other experiences, anything that will catch my fancy, really. All of this seems so broad, I know, but I'll be asking for people who are willing to SUFFER FOR MY ART to enable me to make stuff I think is beautiful. Is it unnecessary to add that the first victims will be my dear friends? :3

Quite a few things seem to have led up to this moment, like seeing "Fur", a not-quite-documental movie about the photographer Diana Arbus with Līga, (and participating in a project of her fancy, tee-hee,) then agreeing to be one of the models for Henriete's vision..

For each "interview", I'll want to focus on again, a concept, but by indulging in the whole "it's the little things" thing. E.g. - hands. Hands are absolutely ridiculously wondrous. The turn of the wrist, the lines on the palms, the shape of each fingernail, the tendons moving underneath the skin, and all the things they can do, oh my.
~post scriptum~ other awesome stuff is happening right now and I am really, really happy 

♥

Today had a shitty start. Miscommunication with strangers has been pissing me off as of late, so I've decided to stay home all day, attempt to work, attempt to write, maybe finish off Bastion. Can't help but envy Henriete a little bit, in her top-floor old town apartment, with no net and no shower, and post-party glitter scattered fucking everywhere. Camera snapping away.

Since I didn't post this yesterday, this isn't going to be a cryptic reference with song & title only, but fuck that. The organ above is dedicated to the scene the music invariably paints in my head. And maybe, just maybe, a person.

Foo Fighters - Still

Kaspars ir Krievija.

Un mans "spirit animal" ir dižsusurs, kā mani informēja Ieva III.

One of the numerous perks my room has is that I get the morning sun. As I did this (yesterday) morning, and guess what, this is the kind of shine that has actual warmth in it. I sat in that little spot for around ten minutes, being all happy and shit.

Beidzot biju pie Inesītes, kura, izrādās, grib dot mūsu stundās rakstītās dziesmas savam Bolderājas ansamblim. Tas mani glaimo un priecē.

Un rīt (šodien) satieku Henrieti, lai īstenotu fotosesiju, kurai es pati pieteicos. Kādēļ? Ne jau tagad es nožēloju savu lēmumu, bet es nevaru teikt, ka tam redzu iemeslu. 

I could have sworn I heard some very faint whistling just then. The neighbour's TV was on, so they may be the culprits. All the same, creepypasta's come to mind way to easily.

iron man

Pēdējā mēneša/divu laikā bieži vien izvēlējos pirkt nevis klepu-zālēm līdzīgo šķidrumu, kura balansē hemoglobīna līmeni manās asinīs, bet gan alkoholu. Atkārtotajam lēmumam iemelsi bija šādi - maz naudas & gribas socializēties (ne tā, kā to dara Kaspars); mans apzinīgums, nauda un aptieka parasti neatrodas vienā laikā un vietā; vēlējos veikt tādu kā eksperimentu, lai pārliecinātos, kā šī "dzira" mani ietekmē. Lai gan, protams, to nespēju apgalvot pilnībā objektīvi, liekas, ka tiešām ir labāk ar nekā bez.
And about the booze - jēgu nepārdzēru, vienīgais "labums" tāds, ka palielināju savu toleranci.

And right now I can count ..seven? people who have honestly surprised me with confessions of their feelings for me. Not necessarily romantic, but it seems that I tend to underestimate the way I affect people. But see, even writing that sounds pretentious. Guess I should practice seeing naivety/naïveté all charming again. /ˈænʒənuː/ for the win.

whoo

Gonna cry myself to sleep tonight.

bet nē, viss nav slikti,

jo mājās ir garšīgs jogurts.

Paldies Gintam par savu mūžīgo saulaino/chill noskaņojumu, par super mīlīgajām konfektēm, un par atgādinājumu, ka nav nemaz tik sarežģīti nebaidīties.

Paldies Arvim par savu spēju pārslēgties uz to idiotisko humoru, kura ietekmē jāsmejas līdz sāpošiem sāniem un asarām. Kā arī par aliņiem.

Es atsakos neuzskatīt savus draugus par draugiem tādēļ, ka pagātne ir sūds un visiem ir rētas.

sludge

Today seems somewhat ugly. With no reason to get out of bed, I kept myself there, periodically asleep and awake, until about one in the afternoon. Lora tends to lie in the dip of my back, or on my side, and her complacent purring serves as an additional demotivator when it comes to moving.

I will almost certainly ditch choir, there's no use in showing my face there today.

The only high-light I can name was the cheery quality to the voice of L. B. from the Samaritans, with whom I was discussing helping kids in need with their english. Not sure what I'm getting into, since there seems to b a lot of unpredictability with the rotation of the actual children, and she seems intent on having me opt for this group of ambiguously defined, mentally impaired youngsters with drinking problems. I am somewhat intimidated.

Gus seems to be on his toes about me inviting most male friends over/ going to visit them. Looking over most of the people I communicate with, guilt trips will ensue. Like yesterday, when Gints dropped by for tea and a walk to the lake, reminiscing about trips he'd had over the summer, and Arvis later informed me about his triumph over some test and the need to raise a glass to that. (Which ended up starting off in the "Gustavs Ādolfs" mini-restaurant, which I had previously visited only from the café to use the joint lavatory. Terrible, terrible music.) There was some unpleasant texting over the evening, and today I can't really talk to Gus at all. I don't think he realises how shit I am at spending my time alone.
Hard to know how to feel about what.

So here I am, pouring my heart out to the one person who will potentially read this, and it only makes me fell all the shittier. My sincerest apologies.

wow spēle

Just finished sorting my tumblr playlist. No more dead links, no more confused naming. Enough additions to make it count as relatively updated (to my current life, ahah).

I've been made part of this secret-ish project, which I'm happy about. I'd do well not to slack on at least some sort of writing now. I'd tell you more, but. *giggles* It's secret.
And choir was equal parts oddly empty, pleasant, amusing, awkward and tedious.

"Jūs arī wow spēlējat?" is the response I got to an attempt to incorporate a doge joke into a group chat. I ended up having to explain the principle. Unsuccessfully, I might add - evidently the people I was conversing with are not of the type to be subjected to internet sink-holes.

Why the fuck do I frequently try to write these things at some ungodly hour, with zero company and zero booze? *ignores unopened tequila bottle on the table*

This is shit.

Daudz laimes, Kristap. 
(good job, Em, that was a day early)

"Daniel Cowman" - Regina Spektor

"Joks tāds,"

02:45 - pārģērbos pidžammās, un sāku lasīt "Mūsdienu Politiskās Filozofijas" ievada sadaļu "Libertārisms". Bet jau uzreiz saprotu, ka biju pārāk aizrāvusies ar to prieku, kas ir rakstīšanas vides noformatēšana, informācijas ieplūde sanāk neveiksmīga. Salauzta tās izplūde, turpretim..

I have great hopes for the year 2015. It has already brought some very interesting changes, ones that are generally good. E.g. new, fascinating friends; a kind of (what*) motivation that isn't an illusion; choir's been turned upside-down; I've been forced to attempt to see my sister as an adult; I've been challenged to bring out some forgotten, rambunctious aspects of myself without wrecking the delicate balance I've achieved without them.
This Monday evening I was too sleep-deprived to go and fill my duties as an english teacher, for a reason I'm still not entirely sure how to classify. Fun, though.

Dark Dark Dark at Cake Shop: "Junk Bones"

I have a character in mind that currently goes by the name of Mabel. The idea of her story is this: she slowly and painfully gets herself out of a depressive circle, and that's all fine and well, but things get more fantastical over time, and at certain points we (the readers, & Mabel herself) get thrown back to whenever she started daydreaming/ whenever she fell asleep, back to her "reality". I don't plan on making it easy to coherently follow the "real" storyline, but I think it might be a good shape to have something solid that's interspaced with trippy journeys in.

She obviously has a cat. Goodnight.


*Hā, "edits"

Tūdaļ došos uz Simpoziju, bet lai cik izdrāzts vārds "motivation" nebūtu visdažādākajos kontekstos, vēlos vismaz sev norādīt uz to atšķiribu tās pielietojumā, kuru nesa faking cipariņa pārbīde. Spontānas mākoņveidīgas dvesmas - tikpat abstraktas un kaut kur augšā peldošas.

Starp citu, daži konkrēti pārlatviskojumi, kurus līdz šim kaut kā biju palaidusi garām, kutina manas ausis. Atmiņā ataust tas nostalģiskais brīdis, kad pirmo reizi dzirdēju vārdu "coolīgi". Lai gan, tas joprojām ir noskurināšanās vērts. Bet, piemēram, es nemācētu erotiski uzvesties latviski. Vismaz ne manā tābrīža uztverē, un kur nu vēl pielietot neķītrus tekstiņus. Valodu barjeras ftw

wait for it..

I wonder what these blue walls will have to offer. Other than teaching me how to sleep. Other than a slow introduction to proper breathing. Other than lifting my little bubble of light up to the clouds I've come to adore so. Crack my bones and scrape my imagination off of the walls, and don't forget to call me a good little girl.

Melanie Martinez - Toxic

realisation

I have a recurring tendency to use the word "realisation" quite frequently, bearing the meaning of acquiring certain information with the appearance of being closer to the truth. I now use it as a title bearing the meaning of ideas living in my head having materialized in the world around me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am writing this, sitting in a blue-walled room: my study.

Whilst dwelling on stuff people have dreamt up coming true, I like to bear in mind the theory of the universe being the Fulfiller* of wishes; and the extremely humorous approach it takes to our humanly formulation of them. I'll admit that things never take form in the way I imagine them to, but where would be the fun in that? If I were to believe in a higher power, it would be this sentient universe with the best (if widely put) intentions in "mind".
While it is thoroughly charming, my honest take on this and other esoteric theories is similar to my take on God - with no personal evidence in support of or against them, I will choose to temporarily believe what I find makes the most sense to me as well as makes life most becoming to my eyes.

Though I daresay that I began this entry with the intention to voice the realisation (in my primary sense of the word) of my making the majority of my decisions overall based on doubt.
Doubt has two main functions in my psyche: one is completing a set of scars left from the crippling and not wholly eradicated insecurity belonging to me; the other is as a safety net, going hand in hand with indecisiveness and fear and not leading in any particularly useful direction.
I find that those two functions were much more convincing when my aforementioned wishes weren't so palpably coming true, so now I ask of my reasoning: WHO'SYERFUDGENQUEENNOW

*hint hint RICE BOY