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.