ohmigottididit

(Kimbra - "Come Into My Head")

Remembrance, Return

They are absolutely right - café's provide the perfect background noise for heavy thinking. Much nonsense, but the good kind.
Mārtiņa Beķereja, we meet again.
And the traditions are more insistent than I presumed, I was very happy to see this Meteņu gājies, viņi vilka *&$*! bluķus pa zemi, this has to be a gutsy thing to suggest.
I have two gingerbread cookie hearts from Rasa, Burtniekam pēdējais mēģis bija slapjš, and we celebrated the end of the world at the office. Kat sketched me.
Yesterday was quite the productive day.

Discipline

Well, fuck. This taught us nasty kids.

Maybe it's for the best.

..for now.

The spark in life that I had noticed was gone is still gone. I'm doing my best to find it.
Something appears, now and then, but I need it's reassuring light..

Times is hard, times is confusing, and foggy. I feel foggy. I must stop feeling foggy.

All that remains is no stick to what we've got and slowly work our way towards independence.
Good luck, for the both of us.

And now, a sad song.

(Low Roar - "Patience")

Monday

I guess my eyes were so accustomed to the dark, they relished it. Lying in bed with a book, recovering, it feels like the old days. The winters past.
The words "bad", "nausea", "trembling" - they sound so light in my head. It's like when you've gotten hurt a few days ago and you're looking back at it, thinking "Yeah, I could take that again." But the fact is, I don't remember any other time when I've felt as physically horrible as I did yesterday. I'm still sort of trying to find a good reason for writing it up here, as if it was a sin to share the bad along with the good. It is a bump in the everyday life, so why not reflect on how it offered change, no matter how slight? That, and writing it down in my notebook wouldn't have been as satisfactory. If it would have been one of the kind I scribbled in a year ago, with the lovely format and fascinatingly shiny covers, the documentation would have felt superior to this, but I guess the one I have now doesn't seem to capture whatever I try to write down. Maybe it's because it has thicker pages and wavy lines and four different openings that repeat themselves. The design simple and a pleasure to look at, but it seems to be made for just that purpose - to be looked at. Not to harbour the wonders and dregs on the mind.
Yesterday Rudy called and asked if he could stay here until his parents picked him up. I don't know exactly what was the cause, but the result was feeling like "a pretty fountain", bent over the toilet bowl. He arrived about an hour and a half later, and I took joy in being the caretaker instead of being the one taken care of. The poor thing. And then, another few hours later, I was hit by the same thing. That, and menstrual cramps. Only these were the kind that make you moan out loud from the pain. At the end of the day I found myself on the bathroom floor with my eyes watering, clutching a blanket and hoping I'd pass out. This I didn't do, and after a while I summoned the resolution to get back to my bed. Painkillers offered relief, and sleep came, at length, interrupted by visits to the ugly pink bucket on the shelf at the end of the bed. Rudy was gone, I'd wished for him to stay, but then again, being sick is something you can only comfortably be at home.
I woke up at 10am, feeling more or less like a human being, and after calling Rudy, it appears he was feeling the same. The day has passed in reading and worshiping water, and I feel I've enjoyed it. I might brave some yoghurt later, but for now I'll take my slightly perverse joy in being thin and pretty - the wane beauty of sickness.

"Stories", edited by Neil Gaiman and Al Sarrantono.

Hope you feel better, sweetie.

Quiet

Do any of us really listen to the silence anymore? Everything seems like a rush, an obligation, or a dream. Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm going where I don't want to so I can say that it's really not what I want.
Some things that are close at hand are a distant memory to me. And yet I clutch to the past.

(Edvard Grieg - "Solveig's Song")

It's still snowing outside.

Commitments

I'm straying off my original idea of how to live, whether it is still or again, I do not know. It does keep changing, so following a certain path can be awfully inconclusive. That, and I'm cripplingly indecisive.
The "I'm happy." post is just as true as the self-and-world-hating posts, and that simply makes finding a theme for myself so much harder. I don't really have a certain theme to work with. Muh.
My body is alerting me of need of change of thought by making my lovely dreamland of sleep very enticing in the mornings. Not that I can't get up because I'm tired, but I can't get up because I really don't want to. This is what happens to depressed people, since reality pales in comparison, but I'm not depressed, I enjoy my life, so there must be something else to learn by this.
The problem probably is that I've engaged in too much, and too little planning. The best solution I can see right now is to go outside and build a fucking snowman.

(ThankyouthankyouIneseforunderstanding.)

Still the need to create. Build. Write. Almost anything, just please occupy my mind.

I'm happy. 

agubadada

Is it okay to start feeling Christmassy now?
I think it is. THE ICY SIDEWALKS HAVE ARRIVED YESHGOODWINTERFINALLY
It must be okay, at least to make the feeling last.
Chhhhh... Time, time, time.. Tom Waits reference

(Oh, Come, All Ye Faithful (from the road) Julia Nunes)

Unworthy

There's an overall feeling of inadequacy, clumsiness, worthlessness that never fails to appear at from time to time. Having been nobody who's mind I would have glanced at twice, I don't know what to do with myself when I have what I've always wanted. It seems unreal. And dramatic, but I only take it as fact. Unworthy. Because I'm selfish, stupid and lazy, disillusioned and needy, and I keep disappointing everybody, keep dragging things out. I apologise for my being.

Ahahayes

I get very enthusiastic about new people sometimes. It's sort of ridiculous. Nowadays, Gus's "She's a very friendly person" comes to mind every time I find myself being "overwhelming". But you know what, I think I like being who I am, at least most of the time.
Maybe 4 of 5. I guess. Not sure.
You DO get more creative when tuckered out. Eh. Eh.
I wanna create, damnit!
Inspiration everywhere. Like, the piano, the conversations, the drawing, the guitar, the composing, the writing, the video making, the code cracking, fuckin'ell.

DAMN YOU, INTERNAL CLOCK

Thanks, Tomper

this one's going to my little public.

(Neil Gaiman's speech at the University of Arts 2012)

copies of life

Ponders-turned-character ideas:

As I sit here, wondering where the hell my life is going, I'm finally thinking back to what led me to the good parts of this point. The parts I wanted to achieve. And if I've achieved them.

It's really invaluable just to DO. All those things you realise really are true, just a tad too late to be convenient.

Maybe I should do story ideas on YouTube, too. Combining my own efforts would relieve some stress.  Also, it's great to be inspired by people and all that, but no reinventing their ideas. And returning to former good values is crucial. Yesyes.

I'm okay. I'm protected. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay.

Emotion. Emmotion. The good and deep kind. I'd almost forgotten. In fact, I HAD forgotten that was what I was aiming for all along. Oh my. Laughter. Thanks.

(NIN - "Right Where It Belongs v2")

Braaaaiins

What the fuck are we supposed to do?
We do this because of that and these chemicals have that and that effect. Everything can be fucking categorised. No more mystery, no more dreams.
Are we supposed to suppress our brain patterns just to be the smart one? Bog ourselves down? Are we supposed to fuck ourselves over in order to live a happy life? Successful, anyone? Bullshit, anyone? Help?

Asking

Ze, I've got a question for you.
How would you relay your feelings to somebody when everything's out of proportion? I'd like to act like a normal human being, but letting people know how I feel without losing the respect of myself can often prove to be quite the challenge. And then it swings the opposite direction, I either break down, or feel a moment of lightness, of an opportunity to be completely truthful. Some back off. Some don't care.  Some don't understand. (I'd add all the nicer versions after these, but then I can't be all angsty.)
The need to be good, to be selfless, it fucks me over, because when I need something, anything, however basic, sensible or instinctive it might be, it's selfish. It's childish. I can't achieve in my own eyes. I'm not allowed. And having the nerve to write about it, my, am I egoistic, or what? Look. It's public. Shame, Emma, shame.
But oh, for an audience, right? We're all greedy and craving in the end.
We all love to be important.

And for some stupid reason, feeling safe means letting go of so many cautious little backups in my mind that I become afraid, afraid of it breaking down, of everything going back to normal. Of everybody repeating the same mistakes in the end.

And this is stupid, because I'm making you feel unnecessarily guilty.
I shouldn't do that. Nobody needs any shit from me.
Or am I? Maybe I imagine too much. Serves me right.

Ze present

I have decided that I am now in control in my own life.
So, I've started doing all the things I've meant to do for a while, starting projects, organising others, answering overdue letters, coming to terms with myself.
Trying to be realistic.
I am going to try to be brave.
My fingernails are a slightly alarming neon orange to celebrate this fact.
I'm also probably going to start writing reminders on my hands again, at least for a while.
Certain things look very pleasing to the eye under water. Swirly things.
Yes, The Project is being reborn, or, more precisely, finally born..

Evita, I wish you all the best. Another panda for you. Pandas is good fo' ye. This one's a red panda.
Has anybody heard of the band Little Joy?
They're very calming, at least what little I've heard of them, which is the self-titled album. Very sweet.
Oh, and oh, in choir today there was this wonderful exercise, where the whole choir is holding four notes, a lovely major, then the sopranos lower their note by a half, making it a minor, then the rest of the choir does the same and so on and it was all rather pretty I really must go to bed now, so I wish you all a comfy night.

"And now..

 ...for something completely different."

I seem to have elected my first president.

***

"Dirge of the Three Queens"

URNS and odours bring away!

    Vapours, sighs, darken the day!

 Our dole more deadly looks than dying;

    Balms and gums and heavy cheers,

    Sacred vials fill'd with tears, 

And clamours through the wild air flying!

    Come, all sad and solemn shows,

    That are quick-eyed Pleasure's foes!

    We convent naught else but woes. 

Shakespeare

***

Freedom. Yes. Culture.

http://www.change.org/petitions/youtube-googlede-allow-third-party-recording-tools-for-youtube-freedomonyoutube

And convenience.

***

(Robbie Williams - "Let Me Entertain You")

Sarežģīti seksīgās pozas īpašnieks

People seem to come and go in and out of their own heads. 
Un mana bezspēka nedēļa sakrita ar to, kurā ģimenei bija famīlījas reunācija. Piedod, kori. 
Halloween came and went, disappointingly uneventful. Although costumes were awesome.
Šodien smējos, ļoti. Un uz ielas bija lillā poga. 
Un Kauguros ir ķīniešu ēdiens un bezmiegs. Galvu-jaucoši 
And it seems to be so sad that people need to be reminded of their own life-changing realisations they had years ago. Dig up that old shit, you were a smart kid, remember? 
According to my cousin Tomas, I "turned out all right." 
Eight years is a long time, yes, but now that they're over, do they make a difference? 
Sinking without reason ricochets and summons a tap and a lot of emotion. And yes, if there are any dead butterflies, I will cry. 
Pa ceļam uz tramvaju es satiku Viesturu, kurš steidzās. "Algebra nav garšīgs."
And while time ticks away to no end, Maya sends me lesbian jokes told by a woman in pink. (I think this was still a happier time, damn you)
Deadlines. 
Krūtis. 
"Oh, Mr. Bond.."

(John Lee Hooker - "Boom Boom" 1966)

Blah.

Sorry, sorry, apologies, here, there, everywhere, too many, too often, too pointless.
Kat, what the fuck? 
It's not nice to be kicked in the joy, no ma'am, not by a long shot. Shall we just forget about this and have some tea? Jolly good.

My past favourite colour

Apparently, today is Spirit Day. When purple stands for no bullying and support of the lesbian, gay, bi, and trans people. Okiday, then.
I usually find out about these things a bit late. At least this time it's still the same day.
When I first read the name I thought something along the lines of a pre-Halloween celebration, going all ghost like.
I like purple.

future

So it is now. Now is the time I've begun to seriously contemplate moving out.
I should take more responsibility for myself. It'd be easier to organise my life in some aspects. Harder in others. Might be fun, though. I think I'm yearning to take control of the solitude as well as the inadequacy to be my own guest.
Now that I look around my room, I can easily see it as a wannabe apartment waiting to be expanded. I mean, having space for all my books is a benefit that's hard to overlook.
I miss a certain kind of alone-ness. When I enjoy my own company, or one half of myself enjoys the company of the other. A certain kind of quiet.

*

And a certain kind of loud. Fucking screaming, but not heard over the sound of the rain and the music and my own thoughts. I've recently become more aware of the fascination Jack White deserves.

This guy.
He seems to dislike boxes. Thank you.
The fact that I recently watched "It Might Get Loud" probably helps.
But then, the lucky bastard has made himself a palace.
But I guess I'll be doing a bit of digging for slightly morbid complexities and exact colours.
And then, as with all these great people out there, all I'm gonna get is everything he put into the stage name, the peppermint candy, the side he wants to show. No one gets to know who these people really are. I mean, all respect to privacy, but I can't help but want to get up close and personal to the people who have no idea they have influenced my life.

I want to keep writing. Stories, poetry, books, lyrics, dreams. I want to keep drawing, and singing, and designing world inside my brain, creating illusions, making them reality, making messes where they should and shouldn't be, defying myself and the law, keeping record of all brilliant thoughts to come, I need to believe in myself. Yeah. Be happy. I am. But still.

The world looks a lot like this these days..

I can do this

I had this thought.. since I am writing the book, and it might not be a complete disaster, self-publishing might be a very reasonable option.. The storyline itself is wobbly, but I'm coming up with all these short stories on the side, so maybe I could make a compilation of those and maybe throw a couple of poems in there. This could work, it could definitely work..
Before, writing the previous post, I was wondering if that's just my nature, to excitedly start one thing and then slowly lose interest, but I suspect, that if conditions are right, things may just click. It's happened once before, not with a project, though. But still. Hehehe.

I also need to spend more time outside. Especially now.

ugh

I really need to get around to sticking with ONE project that I can put as a priority. But I can't choose.. I want to do it all, so I end up enjoying all of these little creative indulgences, but there's nothing that keeps steadily progressing the way I want it to. Another thing that makes it harder is that I get inspired and have these bursts of ideas, enthusiastically promise myself and others of what's to come, what we can do, and I stick with that for a couple days, and then, due to several things (limited resources/time, little or no participation from others, not being able to organise the process), it fades away. There are still swirly ideas stuck in the back of my mind, waiting to be reborn, vibrant and thriving.. Not that I'm not sticking with things, I mean, this blog, for example, has been going on for a long time. Then there are other things that, if I let myself go, only get attention in bursts. And sometimes, little hardships can be weirdly discouraging. Very much so. But that might be the S-DPD speaking. (no, not the Police Department, silly, the Disorder)
Well, there is this one site I created that I've put at least some of my hopes on. I've made everything work, more or less, no the only thing it needs is for everybody to periodically add to it. Might do, might do..
As for the rest. Nah, I'm not giving anything up. I'm too selfish.
And look I found a pretty water candle isn't it pretty I think it's fabulous just look at it

Saulkrasti!

T'was splendid. Evita, me, Rob, Arnis & Mārtiņš.
Might be a band. Everything miraculously went well - we all got on the same train on time, vienā vagonā, with the equipment, almost got lost, but eventually found the house, and although the key was not where it was supposed to be, we got in anyway, and the drums got there too. Funfunfun. Pelmeņi. P. S. Betmens. Putrāā.  Fork & Bottle. Yeah. I also am battle scarred. Just look at my knees. Stone stairs at fault.
And Evita got to the train on time, and we cleaned the house, and we managed to carry everything + the drum set to the train (četri mazi bundzenieki, jāj pa ceļu dungodam.. ), Rob got his cigarettes, we didn't have to pay for extra luggage, and more everything I can't really organise my thoughts at the moment forgive me. 
Then John's place. Excited Emma is excited. Ideeeaas. It might get loud. Get out of my house. Etc.
And I had such a laughing fit when Lucifer and the Pandit pointed out the connection between Jordan Catalano (Jared Leto) and 30 Seconds to Mars (Jared Leto). Seriously. Me isa retart. Had never realised it was the same person.

People, people, people

(Amy Cuddy - your body language shapes who you are TED)

One thing I like about TED talks is that the people up there often get incredibly emotional.

They get to tell their life story, the one thing they've overcome or changed, and it's a big thing.

..?..

. ..::o ; o::.. .

...::(.;:::::::;.)::...

that - is a fat little owl in a fir tree, if anyone's interested. 
S'right. 

Ah. And for those of you who don't know..  I have a little guilty pleasure. Yummy yummy. Webcomics. 

The Nerd in me is present after all. But seriously, who in their right mind cannot love this..? [GGaR]

Forget this ever happened.

1st of October

Quite a lovely day. That was both the day of my first encounter of a so-called woman-doctor, to be unnecessarily frank
And, *this might be of greater interest* , of Dylan Moran.
I mentioned him before, as I mentioned that the tickets were gone by the time the awareness of them had dawned on us. Undaunted by this fact, Rob and I went to the performance anyway, if only to maaaybe catch a glimpse and watch all the lucky bastards who got their tickets in time. (Several familiar faces there.) But - there's more - after sitting in the lobby for a bit, hearing the warm-up guy, Luis, I think, and applause when Dylan walked onto the stage, we actually happened to get in, and watched most of the show anyway. Eheheh. And we were not the only ones, but were joined in this little happening by a hooded guy. Well, he did it first, giving us this look and a half-shrug upon entering, making the temptation irresistible. Dylan was brilliant, as expected, if more serious than the image I'd gathered from the net. Mature. He used that word more than once. There were several jokes we recognised, several that we didn't, + a few obligatory ones about Latvia. I also noticed that the hand holding the microphone was shaking.
Afterwards, we stood outside, most of everybody had finished their cigarettes and conversations, and were just about to sigh and go home, when I spotted him and his team? manager people? friends? coming from this little round-about way, and we came up and received a "Thank you for coming!", as they walked past, rather briskly, he seemed kind of keen to get away, but I summoned up my courage and ran up again, rummaging for my notebook. Yes, I got his autograph, I'm that pathetic. He did look into my eyes and ask for my name, so I can make some giddy-fan-girl impression about the proximity, but, well. Then he scribbled something I can only assume is something nice, or it might actually be a literal scribble, a decoy of sorts. Starts with an E, anyway.
He'll be back, too. One of the group of people around him said they'd be back on the 30th of October. Same person that picked up the card that fell out of my notebook, the one I got from the first encounter of the day, assuming it was Dylan's, but I mumbled some "excuse me.." or something, and got it back. Now, I'm trying to imagine what would've happened if I hadn't said anything. A "Here, you dropped this" , and he receives a random card from a gynecologist. Would've been fun to watch.
Rob, you beautiful bastard, thanks for this.

This is what I found when I looked for a photo from yesterday. He looks very friendly in this one. Really. Positively cuddly. 

eighteen

Have you ever felt like things have happened the wrong way? Remembering certain things of the past, and being haunted by this unshakeable feeling that you should have chosen another path. It doesn't have to be a big thing, it also doesn't matter if you're happy with your life or not, just, it seems like things should have been different. "should"
The vultures struck a chord (TCV, La Corda)

This morning we got an addition to our silly family tradition of waking the birthday person with songs it three languages and the leading their groggy selves down to the kitchen for cake and gifties. That addition was the Pandit. I'm pretty sure that the Star girls have attended more than once, and the Rosies, too, but this time seemed different. Probably because it was another tiny merging of worlds. Though, more of an introduction, this one.
As many of you know, I have cover names for a lot of people I mention here. There isn't always a reason, but it's fun as hell. 
It was my sister's idea, undoubtedly, to make a literal string of candy from my room to the kitchen. Yes, string. With 18 candy bars knotted up, one after the other, down the stairs. How I'm going to finish them off, I do not know.
Amongst the stuff my family saw me open with undisguised glee on their faces (Ali, I mean you) were a pair of feather earrings, two furry clay rabbits (at this point I started thinking Easter), and an effin' video camera. I am going to have so much fun with this one.
Also, dear Lucifer wanted to get me tickets to Dylan Moran, who, it turns out, will perform in LV on the 1st of October! The lovely fucker. (you should've heard me squeal when you sent the link.) I mean, jezusmaria, here, of all places. Sadly, tickets were no longer available, but I'm still very thrilled about the idea as a whole.
'Tis a big day, today. I feel, to put it so, like a princess. Of sorts.

I am indecisive.

(NOOO! Really??)

Just, it seems to be ruling my life at the.. no, just, always. Almost. I don't know.
And so, at stupid times like these I end up using Kass's method of "I have to choose between three unimaginably great events? Fuck it all, I'm not going."
I mean, fine, today is one of the emotional/hormonal/fuck knows mess days, but then again, there have been so many times when I simply fuck myself over. Knowingly, but not really voluntarily. And not just in these situations. For example - I, being a chronically late person, am finally standing at the door on time, with everything I need, (Yes! So there will be this one time I won't let this person down!) when suddenly I get a bout of insecurity, a need to change this, or that, something, something utterly insignificant and downright silly, and as the last chance not to be late slips away, heeeere come the convictions of the past, (Not that she expects anything of me, anyway..), kicking my motivation into the mud. Why do I do this? What is this? Some unsolved past bullshit? Some lesser "comfort zone" of my brain that will forever be a bitch to stay out of? I let myself down, mostly. Double-u tee eff?

*update [29th]
I found out what this is. It's called a Self-Defeating Personality Disorder :D

many dots

Funny, how I'd mention the silver cat and then lose it, five days after..
A shame, a shame.. I've had it since 7th grade..  But there is hope yet.
I've spent most of today with my mother, which is unusual. T'was very nice.
First she took me to the dentist (just hygienist, for now. Still, having someone scraping about your mouth is not pleasant and makes you feel horribly vulnerable.), then shopping for the family, then we proceeded to drive home to make pumpkin-lentil soup with roasted sunflower seeds and whatnot, and we also made this wonderful little concoction I have named the Amazingly Delicious Health-Thing. I can give you the recipe. Here -

• Milk
• Common sea-buckthorn (smiltsērkšķi)
• A banana & a peach (add any fruit of preference)
• A few drops of vanilla extract
• A spoon of sugar, in needed

Then amounts of everything you can decide for yourself.
Blend all this, and then consume saliva - inducing goodness at your own leisure.

I decided to get a new toothbrush right at the clinic 'cause why not take care of it all at once, eh? The girl asked what colour, I told her to choose. I've never had a black toothbrush before. 

I must return

to freedom!!

I realised, yesterday, Baltajās Naktīs, at the little concert of Pēteris and Jāzeps and the rest of the Photographers, that I'd lost a big part of myself during the summer and I must get it back. The silver cat is back around my neck. You see, the part I mean is the one that was researching the details of how to become a witch, the one that wished for a secret door to a fantasy world, the one who got lost in her day-dreaming. I wanted to be the odd girl in the oversized raincoat and a snake in her apartment, or the damsel in distress who was taken by the hand and shown that the horrible, terrifying, wonderful, unimaginable beasts and figures and beings were real, and they're hiding from reality in deep, dark corners. I'm back.

o.o

I think I know what I'm gonna do with the book.
(that phrase has jumped out of my mouth more than thrice, I think)
Thus, correction - I've figured out another possible detail and am excited about it.
So, the making people jump chapters is definitely a possibility, but another thing is this - I'm going to have all these random little paragraphs and/or short stories in between the actual storyline, which might include slight references to these appearances.
I'd also love to include visual stuff, I have no idea if this would cause any unnecessary complications, but it'd be horribly neat. If romance - maybe curls or blooms around the edges, if normally, illustrations to a couple things, but not too many. I could have a few little figures dancing around the text, appearing here and there, with distinct personalities, but being not much more than scribbles, faces more or less indistinguishable, but still somehow there.
As for colours in the text itself - a few select phrases or sentences, words, even letters will be obvious to the eye. Ehehe. I will enjoy this immensely.
Also - movies & literature. Share, everybody, share these experiences. Kat, I will certainly watch Les amours imaginaires, and Rudy, you must see The Princess Bride, loads of Ghibli stuff, and more. And fucking books! If only you could have this enormous library that is accessible to only you and your friends you choose to share your books with. The inside would be timeless, so you could read all the books you wanted in no hurry, and all the books would be the ones you and your friends want to share/wish they had/have been told to read or their lives would be incomplete. This is the second imaginary library description I've made.
And life is really such a troll. This is necessary, of course. Today, I was happy. Fucking happy. In love, I'll have you know. Etc. I was rather proud of my little assemblage of clothing of the day, and I met my lovely friends and proceeded to have a grand time. Then, I got a call informing me of a rather serious matter, and, to add just a little oomph to this - just after that I got kicked out my band. Lovely.
The day wasn't all a pile of shit, just very overwhelming. Life is changing, again.

Factory

I've gotten sick. Sniffle, cough, fever... all that jazz.
Very worth it, though. This night in the factory was, well, different. Some knew about this, most had absolutely no clue. Awareness is one thing. The endless night sky. Sitting on Rob's shoulders, Rob's feet on the iron ladder on the top roof, on the main roof, so high above the ground. Terrifying and exhilarating.
Letting things occur to you was a very fun part. I could become the music, briefly. Not that that took a lot of imagination, it was so loud anyone would have gotten confused. Karlīna was a flame goddess, playing with the stearin of the tea-candles - she was holding the candle in a way that I could only see the light escaping from between her fingers, and it poured over her bare arm. Later she said her white scarf was magic, keeping her from the cold. Perhaps a protection against all evil. I wasn't cold either, not until later.
Evita was herself, and that was very comforting, I now realise that it would be very hard for her to become someone else. Anete complimented the company with her presence, but I don't think she was aware of this. I don't know how much she would have wanted to be.

I now have an excuse to soothe my throat with ice cream. *pointedly blows nose*
.. not that I ever needed much of an excuse.

And so she finished her drink after all

One morning, everyone woke up feeling kinda good.
And looking forward to the day.
And everyone knew exactly how to solve all the problems that had appeared previously over the course of their lives. Unconditional love all over the place.
It somehow felt.. well, wrong. This sudden warmth and clarity surrounding everybody was simply not natural.
Although, as humans remain humans, the clarity was rather limited. Not one had the foggiest idea of what the cause of all this could be. So, they carried on as well as they could with this new-found peace, and instead the animals held a conference, their minds in a bubble of consciousness, an agreement of peace between them in this void.
The butterflies and dolphins thought that nothing needed to be found out, that all life was better off this way. The dogs agreed heartily, so did the tuna, and the monkeys concurred after a while. The seals remained indifferent, but the sloths thought it was an outrage. The armadillos couldn't decide, and the slugs kept getting distracted. The cats, great and small, held their silence, but everybody knew they were against the new order, most of them, anyway. It was too innocent for their taste. The jellyfish were silent as well, but no one knew what they thought, as no one does still. The snakes and spiders spoke amongst themselves, and were taking awfully long, but eventually a black widow crawled over to explain that they thought it was no use to participate in the larger discussion, as it was improbable that much could be changed.
More time passed, then, caving in to the impatience humming in the air, the horseshoe crabs decided to take action. They voiced their idea. Upon hearing it, a great squabble arose, the peace momentarily forgotten. Finally, the animals managed to find a calm of sorts - and took a vote. It was close, but it turned out in the favour of the crabs. So they sent an armadillo, (who wouldn't be biased) down to hell, to see where all the evils had gone. It got help from the underground beings, and got there within three days, but nonetheless suffered many a hardship on the way.
Hell. Fire. There, in a great, dark cave the Evils sat, their presence filling the air. Some were spinning, some smouldering, screeching, staring, wailing, laughing.. but most of them reminiscing in some way or another. The armadillo went up to them and asked them what they had done, and why. Silence. The armadillo, now taking in all the terrible power around it, started trembling. But it knew that no harm would come to it, as this was such a grave matter. That fact not one of the beings in the cave was ignorant of. It took a breath, raised it's voice, and asked again. Silence. At last, Famine stepped forwards. "Very well. You may receive your answer. We kill. We destroy. We do all imaginable and unimaginable things to those souls up there. Is it right? Is it wrong? We had been discussing this amongst ourselves for a few hundred years, but a number of us had had our doubts for far longer. We wanted difference, an answer, perspective, a pause. So we left. The younger ones persuaded the old to participate in this chance, this change, and see how it felt to leave things be. Feel guilt, if one had the capacity. Those who couldn't be persuaded otherwise regard this as an experiment, to see if the humans are capable of handling good in a much purer form. Not completely, mind you, we left a very few of us up there, as not to throw off the balance completely. Still, we wonder if this wasn't foolish, extraordinarily so. However, most of us refuse to return."
"Will you stay down here forever?" the armadillo asked.
"We don't know," Famine replied.
Suddenly, with a terrifying rumble, the ceiling of the cave was no more, and shining, shouting furiously, was the angel of justice - Raguel. His eyes blazed, and his presence was overwhelming to even the most ruthless of the bad that stood there.. You see, no one dared attack or even look him in the eye, because they knew they had disrupted what Raguel stood for. If you tear apart, in such a way, what a god, and angel or any other immortal being protects, you know you bow to them, and either flee or beg for mercy. Such were the rules of existence. The Evils were muted in their shame.
What the angel said to them the armadillo, upon returning, could not repeat, but he said it had something to do with the balance and harmony of the universe, and in each and every heart of the beings of earth, which were also the universe, and at this point the armadillo got a bit confused, doubled back and started muttering to itself, so the rest of the animal kingdom gave up trying to get to the bottom of it. The Evils were returning, and that was enough.
After another few days, most of humanity started getting reluctant to get out of bed again, started shouting at their kin, cradling their own swollen pride, stomping on the helpless and all the usual bullshit we all know we get up to. Balance was being restored.
The armadillo remembered one more thing, in the end. He said that before leaving, Raguel had mentioned the souls that needed to learn.. that they could not do it any other way, if they were to proceed  to something else in the afterlife, or next life, or whatever happens next. The armadillo did not know what that meant, but it was glad to have escaped such an ordeal without too much trouble, but it would rather not repeat it, even in it's mind, too disturbing.
So it tried to forget about it.

Simplicity

might be the way to go..

Far from worried minds 

trying, trying to throw 

away the free, the true, the green,

it's nothing you don't know.

Take me away.

Let's create a forest, a throne - 

to the smoke and the coughs and the rules I'll scream NO

Take my hand and follow me

because I trust you

implicitly.

Lovable people

(Jenny Luna and John Konesky - Crazy People)

 Miks showed us this yesterday, after me showing Inese the original.
What am I doing up at 08:00 (previously 07:00)
I have new shoes.

An ode to a maiden, far away

My fairest, bring me a drop from the salty sea, 

A taste which can be replaced by no other

Bring me the sea.

My dearest, give me a drop of your scarlet blood, 

A shade which can be confused with no other

Give me your blood.

My loved one, tell me your fears and your darkest terrors, 

A gasp that can be heard by no other

Tell me your fears.

My songbird, sing my ears paths through silent tremors, 

A note in a world where there is no other

Sing me your soul.

My goddess, rule me and my mind with unblemished beauty, 

A face and a heart, there is no other

Surrender, my love, to me. 

Nicholas was..

older than sin, and his beard could grow no whiter. He wanted to die.
The dwarfish natives of the Arctic caverns did not speak his language, but conversed in their own, twittering tounge, conducted incomprehensible rituals, when they were not actually working in the factories.
Once every year they forced him, sobbing and protesting, into Endless Night. During the journey he would stand near every child in the world, leaving one of the dwarves' invisible gifts by its bedside. The children slept, frozen in time.
He envied Prometheus and Loki, Sisyphus and Judas. His punishment was harsher.
Ho.
Ho.
Ho."

This is one of the beautiful stories by Neil Gaiman, the mind of whom I would very much like to explore.
Thank you, Kat, for this immeasurable read.

inspired and determined.

Well, the book writing thing. I'm really gonna do it. It's already survived more than most of thew previous attempts, so, that's a good sign. Anyways - http://tellingstonesof.blogspot.com/ here. There are some old poems at the beginning, those can be disregarded. The writings start with "Introduction."
Yesterday was a lovely reunion with mom & Ali, back from three weeks in the US, and Max and Niko visited today. Lots of stories and gifties and everything. Other yesterday's reunions included a pint of beer, rain rain rain, some very good marzipan, and a couple of bicycles. Very nice day. And I got my book back. The one abut the autistic kid. And then, there was this big tree in a tiny park, when the rain was at it's worst..

Lost in Trance

I get these sudden moments of missing people I've had any brief, but personal connection with. The people I've selfishly wanted to "own" by sharing a moment of some sort of bond with him or her that no one else does. Do people do that a lot, or am I being more possessive than most are accustomed to be when it comes to friendship?
I still haven't gotten around to the mindset in which I'd say 'no' to immortality.
I know that it would last literally forever, and that I'd get weary and miserable, but I'd be able to change so much.. and the weariness wouldn't set in right away and unlimited time is of great value, even if it is relative..
Have you ever met someone that emanates an inexplicable wrongness? I encountered an old lady today, from a distance, looking out of a window, and her stare from the sunken gray patches surrounding her eyes (although I didn't quite see the eyes themselves) gave me the heebie jeebies.

I suspect that I mean something different every time I say "I don't wanna grow up."

Randomly spaced impressions.

Tea, tea, tea, tea, tea.

Back.

Hey. So, I'm back from the choir trip. 11 days.
Italy. Fucking hot. Fucking amazing. But I'm also fucking happy to be home.
Too much to put in here. Way too much. A couple words - Europa Cantat. Torino.
There will be photos. In a while. When I get them. I didn't bring a camera, you see, but I think that was a good thing. Yes. Definitely. I got to read a few.. heh, interesting things to pass the time on the bus.. a book shared by us four youngsters of the very back seats. :3
My notebook has been filling up quite rapidly during the long bus rides, though.
I'm also writing a book. Started as another little project. Let's see how this one does.
Joakim Arenius was our group teacher, so that was us - Atelier A15 - Burtnieks, and a youth choir from the south of italy, also some people from Germany, and, I think, France. Awesome.
A tiny glimpse of all the other awesome people who I got to meet -

(The Gospel, I thikn)

I love Venice. D'uh. But by night.

no sleep tonight.

Well, I'm off to Italy. My bag is mostly packed, and the bus departs at 05:00.. Longest choir excursion ever. I think. With, Burtnieks, at least, possibly the one in 8th grade might exceed this one..? Not that it matters. I'll be back on the 4th of April.

Right now, I want to be the clean and pure being that gives unconditional love to everyone and everything. At peace with myself and all else. 'Cause, I've learned how to make mistakes, which, coincidentally, is a very good thing to have learned, and now, what I'd like to do is make up for the guilt and pain and possibly fear that remains, (although there is not as much as there has and could have been), and basically just try to make everybody break out of their circles of stress and sorrow, open certain eyes to what is around and inside us, etc. I suppose this didn't have to sound as sappy, but it's honest.
I, still being kind of a social chameleon, have adapted a very round-about way of looking at things, namely, from all angles. Sometimes, though, these things can get a bit confusing, when people of a certain view might misinterpret the freedom I've adapted from people of a different view. And then, there are so many "just in case" scenarios (sort of only in our own heads, buut, no, experience fails you only that much). None of this would really be necessary if people really, truly trusted each other. Which, last time I checked, is impossible, except in the case of a few good people you choose to keep close.
(Although I even speak in a round-about way, leaving loop-holes and not really sticking to any side too much, except for the things I'm either very certain or passionate about. But still, Taylor Mali, I envy you, you and your brilliant poetry.)
And sometimes I get confused about whether some choices I make are because of what I really want to do because I think it's right, or if it's because it's a necessary action to keep the respect of the friends I deem as worthy of it themselves. Maybe it's the same thing. (And I have (sort of) gotten the hang of ignoring blatant prejudice. But am I prejudiced about prejudice?) But probably not always. I'm glad, in a way, to escape from these little webs for a while, I do think the trip will clear my head somewhat.
There is still so much I want to say, but, as many will testify, most of the time I just can't formulate my thoughts in a way that will sufficiently make my point. I'm a master at mumbling and bumbling.. Though I do seem to be doing a better job, here, in my blog, than in real life conversation.
Also, TIME, my lovely pet peeve. I very much dislike making people wait, most of the time, but only because I do so often. See, there's a time for everything, and there are many moments when something seems just right, but then I find myself trapped in the middle of multiple crossways, almost all of which would be totally worth it and immensely enjoyable. (See, even now, I have to run down to help Tery make cookies.) But a lot of the times, I guess, it's just me either stalling for whatever reason or being trapped in the lovely happenings of others and being obligated to this and that, blahblahblah
Another things is that I'm afraid, a lot of times, to go out there and make a stand for myself. A lot of times it seems much easier to hide in a corner, or simply neglect. There are times when I should have just grit my teeth and taken the responsibility upon my shoulders (but see, even writing this is sort of a challenge, hard to admit, you see), and other times when I should have been much more careful with people's feelings, causes and consequences, and I need to stop fooling myself when I already sort of know the outcome, and especially when I can still change it myself, but leave it to the other person to decide, 'cause I'm all helpless, aren't I? Short, cute, and naíve. (Actually, I can be scarily good at disillusioning myself deliberately to make life easier or more right.. This has only happened at very few instances, abut they have happened, and, they still linger..)
Another thing about friends and respect, I can be afraid to share what I'm excited about, what actually makes me tick, for fear of laughter or rejection. I'm kind of a weak person inside at a lot of moments. I know, all too well what it actually feels like to be rendered helpless by your own feelings, mostly fear and/or shame, but this knowledge is not an excuse when it is not the actual case.
I also have this stupid, nagging little worry about egoism, to the point that I count all the times I've used "I" and "me" in a paragraph and feel ashamed. Does me worrying about it prove that it? And while I consider myself a pretty good person, does that prove it even more or does it just mean that I'm not failing most of my own standards? If I would fail most of those standards and acknowledge it, would that somehow be more justified?  - And that's how the little voice in my head goes on and on.
And the talking to myself - what the fuck? Even though it's my understanding that most people do, it's still weird, 'cause what I do is imagine these situations, mostly conversations with other people, how I'd like the outcome to be, and just fill in my part of this talk vocally, instead of in my head. Little fantasies, I guess.. we can all dream, we all should dream, without being worried how it influences our fucking karma! Jezusmaria, I can be really paranoid.
And now that this post has gotten rather extensive, I think I'll just lead it to it's not-so-delicate end. (The cookies are rather good.) Goodbye, everybody, I suppose I'll miss you all very much.

*

(Veryvery not-shallow title - calm down, though. Like you said, you're getting nothing out of that state. Be assured - I do my very best to keep my promises. You're one of them.)

and heere I goo agaaain

Stupid circle of life. Stupid cleansing countryside. Stupid tumbling insides.
Can't I just do something and be done with it? Everything seems to have consequences. Duh. (förlåt)
I guess I just wish things were simpler and that certain things were more light-hearted.
"everything should turn out fine." It's complicated. It's always complicated.

I love this place. The Vītolīši should be here soon, too.. heh.
Athough 'soon' can be anything up to the remaining part of the day, even following into the night. Always worth the wait, though.
The peace really is wonderful, and the food is made with care and is scrumpious. Really.
And fresh honey, and berries, and the wind and the rain and the fields reflecting all sorts of stuff back at you, and little tiny frogs on the road, and everything. Everything.
Even my head mumbling the way it usually does here, and having to rethink my life, and someone clumsily playing some instrument in the next room, and crickets, and time passing in a most peculiar manner.
Also, emotions everywhere.

Suddenly, everything, everywhere, I'm leaving the country on the 25th, going to Italy.. I'm a bit afraid, as usual, to leaver the safety of friends and familiar places. Back on the 4th, though.
Country tomorrow, wanted to go to Pozitivus, wanted to sit with Kārlis and that group of people, wanted to fool about in the city, but everything is happening at once, for fuck's sake.
On top it all, I'm sick. Which is almost hilarious. *next day - and maybe I should be a little bit alarmed if I can do the "It's the pit of despairhh!!" voice.
And now it turns out that MC has a concert that I'm missing, too. -.-
 Also - RHCP - She's only 18  ..fuckin' great song.

(COASTERS _ "Three Cool Cats" 1958)

lookit

I knew, yesterday, that I would be late for my vocal lesson. Not a conscious decision, not actually that much of circumstance, either, but I ended up being 20 minutes late, listening to my homework assignment on Monica (ze iPod) on my way there. But it was a good way of spending the morning, with Terēze being over and whatnot, and the lesson itself was nishe. Becaush.
That also ended up taking 20 minutes overtime, which was good, but that also meant that Kat had to wait for me at Index Cafe for a while, and hurrying over there (again, an unexpected and rather amusing encounter with the Rain Dog) was meh-y 'cause of the heat and my sweater thing, which would've supposedly banished the remnants of my illness, (which turned up uninvited and sudden one night, still lingering, *keh*), but Kat saved me, having brought my shirt she'd borrowed quite a while ago. I discreetly changed in the bathroom. :3 Murphy's law, though - it started raining, and the cherry tree.. well, just a moment, Kat decided to show me the blue tree that had been shown the her by "some hipster" - Reinards, and on the way I encountered a few familiar faces, including Barbara's, (we had passed her bike leaning against the wall of Hesburger's, it seemed, she called and demanded me to stop where I was and turn back, so I dragged us in there for a few minutes to catch up in that always slightly awkward way one acts around our dear Crane), and this one girl's who I'd seen once before, performing at Taka. Beautiful voice. Really.
(Yell at the heart on the wall. You must.) I guess I adore that hidden little place with the blue tree. It really is that kind of young-rebellious-soul-deep-thought-special-place. Yeah. That kind. Then, proceeding to Gus's place for the movie night, we passed a little cherry tree, and feasted a bit, eyeing the unreachables at the top. Walking along, Kat demonstrated her skill at tying a cherry stem into a knot, using only her mouth. Then I tried, succeeded, and we ended up going back to the tree to get more cherries but, more importantly, stems. That was when I decided it would be a good idea to climb this sharp-branched little tree to get at juicier stuff, so I did, smudging my white shirt in the process, but I got what I wanted.
The movie night was awesome, as are mostly all events at Gus's place, (Gus, Ali, Rob, Rudy, Jānis P. and me) including potato bands with potato members in various languages, me getting exited about bass, a bit of drama and drunken emotion, sleeping less and less for various reasons, The Fall, pancakes by Ali and burlesque, 50's and classical music in the morning, film-making inspiration, The Rhubarb Duck, proudly displayed on my leg, an extremely entertaining pen with a dangly thing, Bender the cat not being amused, weirdness all around.
TESSERACTS ARE NOT GENITALS
Two remaining things to mention - the very sour apple season has begun, and my fallen angel is no longer mine. Time, time, time..

(The Fall Opening Titles)

Whims. Whims everywhere.

freedom

I'm going to grow up to be a formidable woman.


Reflecting, I come again to foolish mistakes, cowardice, faltering, failing to do oneself justice, hesitating at opportunities. But then, I know, my friends. I know what I can do. I know what I feel. I also know the light I have already given. It's worth something.


And this moment of stable self-confidence will be looked back upon, I know not if with a sure smile or an unsure giggle. I hope for the former.

Only...

..someone who's, morally... superior could possibly.. and honestly deserve.. to rule my world. 


Pleasant day. Woke up at about 11 at Aigars' place after the party, sat alone in the kitchen for a while with my notes, then Aigars walked in, and we spent some time discussing japanese singers, weird covers and such, which led me to realize I absolutely had to show him Igudesman and Joo, and well, others woke up gradually, Kat & Ploriņš left in kind of a hurry, the rest of us did another round of Slender, me playing, those bastards. Was very funny, though.
After goodbyes, I spent some time in The Pagalms. Realized I'd missed the place. Guys, let's gather and go there some time. Like we used to.
I also met Elīna. Walked up to the Origo stage to wait for her, and guess who's there, if not the Rain Dog. Smiled at each other, and I paused "Naive", the Kooks, for easier conversation. Talked about this and that, and after a while, his phone rings, the ringtone being .. "Naive", the Kooks. (: Heh.
Talk with Elīna was easier than expected. Had a couple laughs, but the conversation didn't last long. And it started raining.
I need to take Kat to Rezonanse. That beautiful place.

Kings Of Frog Island - Laid/Witching Hour

a seemingly belated realization

And now, I'm wondering about one of the sentences most despised by children, namely - "you'll understand when you're older".. the agonizing truth, but not really. And the 'not really' is what makes it even worse, because wisdom both irrevocably appears and is gained, and is hopelessly lost on both sides. Both sides of age.

See, the little light of well, enlightenment, that came to me just a moment ago was that everything is material. In our minds. There is no selfless act. You feel pure sympathy for someone in pain, you smile at a loved one, you bring joy to those who had none.. All for yourself, for the ideals you have been taught, which you have learned, developed yourself. Whatever you do, it benefits something, or someone else.
Love, hate, fear, happiness, sorrow, grief, disappointment, passion, (also intelligence, skill) etc., it's all material. They are all tools we use. The curse of humanity, or of simply being alive? Having more instinct than anything surely simplifies it a great deal, but still. How can anyone be sure?
A.J. Roach - Bandolier

something's missing

It's one of those weird moments when my intuition? is telling me emma! emmaaa! Listen! you need to (..)! right now, it'll be too late soon! (..)!! Now, goddamnit!
Butr I don't know what it means! he/she is never specific about this stuff. argh
also, these are the times I tend to ignore time limits and do something utterly pointless until there's no use in going to whatever I have planned, and I end up telling everyone, including myself, that I'm going, but since my inner self is yelling at me, I waste all the time either just going derp or trying to find out what the hell I need to pay attention to. This is when I can't make sense of my brain.
Why won't you tell me what it is?? See, these intuitive (nyeegh) unsuccessful wake up calls are usually accompanied by a feeling of desperation. No fun. waastin everybody's time/
whhhhhh. life.liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiife,

gggggggq

Well, hello, people. 
I have a choir concert tomorrow. Wish me luck. 

well, i guess this is fitting enough. easiest way to pour thoughts out. 
since you're not back yet..
Wish me the capability to get up in the morning. -.-
I didn't expect you to be so heartbreakingly honest about everything. or maybe you just share my view about some things more than other people, and that's why i see it more as the truth or something. egoistic. 

Hey, Kurmi, Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm. 
Hay, Emī, wow, fuck you, Sid. 
Hi, past Emma, your heart's a meeess.. 

Don't feel unequal, you do know it's just another thing. Something to get good at, another world, if you will, to experience. A rather emotional world. ah.
i probably had more to say.. but wesrhbfj i have a fucking dirty mind.

Emotional talks all over the place. Man, I needed that. 
I'm going to attempt to go to bed nao.

IT NEVER IS THAT SIMPLE.

i don't want to deal with people anymore.
"i don't wanna go, but I can't say I've had a good time... doing anything"
dealing. there are a couple of you who support, the few, you very few, and I love you most of all at the moment. The rest of the world can go on a vacation to hell.

http://www.purityringsongs.com/

future plans

I need to start making videos. I've wanted to for a looong time now, just haven't had the resources and means to, which is a shame. I think I'd enjoy it a lot.

I need to revive the little I had started with my project. Another one of the promises to oneself that slowly fade away and are forgotten in the end. 'm not gonna forget, nonono. I DID have a start, I had people, I had points to fill, I also had just about what we needed to begin. I didn't have time. We, we didn't have time. It's a group thing. Albeit, things have changed. Some of the people will not join. Rain dog, that means you.

I need to set myself straight. By which I mean complying to my own morals a bit more. I've been swaying.

I have to think ahead a bit more.. 'cause some deadlines are approaching. Mehmehmehfuckthesystem.

Gotta leave more time for the deep kind of thought. And books! More reading, dammit!

I need to stop faltering. That's what people do. They falter. In fact, that's one of the worst things one can do.

Oh, mom's home.

"I feel my mortality", she says.

stygg flicka

(Kaki King - "Night after Sidewalk (stereo)")

and the first thing I did

Gah. Is it necessary to tell the world anything?
Reactions, reactions, reactions.

Sometimes it's a call for attention, sometimes it's a place for confiding, sometimes it's a plea for help.

And sometimes, this silly little girl just doesn't know what to think.

Why would anyone do this?
Why would anyone do this
Why would anyone do
Why would anyone
Why would
Why

Some days leave you reeling. 

unexpected. out of the blue

yesterday..

..a visitor arrived about 2 minutes after I stumbled groggily from the bed to see what time it was. 

..I spent the entire day in Mežaparks, meeting Emīlija, her sister & cousin briefly, and taking a walk down to the lake. Hadn't been there for ages. 

..I realized a couple things about myself I would rather not have realized. 

..my mother broke her ankle, via stupid shoes and a slippery floor. She's currently in the hospital in Madona, with five fucking screws. She sounded more or less ok when I called.. I just hope she's really alright.

And today, in the early hours of the morning, Rob called, intoxicated, Kass in the background. He was asking for a girl's number. And our dear, dear Kass just succeeded in making me furious at him again. 

My windowsill tends to be very comfortable when there's a need for grumbling about something. Especially at night, the air tends to be green-smelling and moist. And I wouldn't trade that view for a million.

Spiders

Re-discovered the smiling limpet.

Simple, yet nice.

(two spiders)

notes

Agh. So many reminders. What is my mind. There are probably several very good and undesirable reasons for this.
Did you know that Charles Manson was also a song-writer?

(Charles Manson - "Sick City" remastered)

I met both Kurmis and Kat on the last day before the go away for a while. Oh well. Met Bear, too. Had a conversation with a 10 year old about him wanting to play with a baseball bat and some guts, and Odiozs and I spent some time at his place watching videos about mentally deranged people. Pretty informative.