i will be a drunken historian

Baigi cool atkal komunicēt ar Gintiņu tā biežāk. Beidzot arī tiku pie tām skicītēm.
Earlier today, I wanted to lament the return of some inner instabilities, but since then I found that they are not as much old weaknesses to me anymore as a part of some bigger (forgive me) patterns that were set in motion in the summer and have presented themselves as either pleasing as fuck, fascinating as fuck, a lesson that's quite to the point or all three.
Here is some not entirely unrelated stuff that happened recently:
*losing, then finding, then losing my hat;
*rose petals and blood on the floor of McDonald's;
*this evening, visiting Arta's tiny room for the first time,
which was another one of those not-planned-at-all occurrences. There were country apples, smokeables and a laptop. What more could you ask for on a depressive October evening?

 

By the way, Drunk History - something I profusely encourage you to check out.
And as much as I value authenticity, if the first version of this post made sense to while writing it, I couldn't refrain myself from editing while inhabiting a clearer mind.

haptic

curious series of happenstances, experiences and desires

one consistent thing about life is that it does, indeed, get increasingly challenging as you age

The Elephant's Garden

found me box

I've spent some time smoking by my bedroom window, attentive to the wind as not to have smoke blow inside. I did this last night, staying up late, writing a rap part for a song Reinis sent me. Never ever would have thought to find myself in that position.
But hey, it's a lot of fucking fun.

What I was planning to do now was launch into a euphoric reminiscence of the trip to Warsaw. I think I'll take the opportunity to put down my amateur dabbling instead. I'll omit the singing bits, so y'all getting a pure cut of baby's first rap. To those wondering - it's mostly about my own inner growth, experiences and stuff, all vague enough. Enjoy.

can't believe myself - walking step by step into the known unknown

puny galaxies within each heartbeat I pump on my own

it's more than curiosity, I would have been most obsolete

had there been nothing in the air that ordered my to move my feet

reaching for the stars, reaching for the light,

shove 'em in my body and you better lock 'em up real tight

you better throw away the key, you got no more to do with me

but, tentative, sensitive is the option you would rather give

and I couldn't bear to mind such a fine sign, such a fine line

enabling two entities to intertwine

there's no need to lie - feeling kinda high

a giddy kind of wafting up and over, out of my mind

can't stop, too late, finally pulling my weight

and, coincidentally, confusion's feeling fucking great

why would you assume that I've stepped in the room,

immersed myself in tunes, just to see my visions go to ruins?

a sleep-encumbered, soul-connecting thing akin to resurrecting

softy seething, barely breathing method of over-achieving

idealistic, altruistic, only slightly masochistic

ambiguously platonic, don't you worry, hun, I'm on it

true to what I hold inside

cross my heart & hope to die

impossible to see through this visual snow

wouldn't you like to know whom to follow?

I'm not sure if I do, 'cause I've got my own fortitude

at least some kind of dignity when I can't face the solitude

I can be content with rising tendrils of smoke

got my little buzz and my imaginary cloak

really doesn't matter what you think I'll provoke

you see, we were there when all these creatures awoke

can never quite believe it when life opens up and means it

can never quite contain all that is outweighing the pain

yet it remains aflame.. 'kay, I'm game

I'm still having some difficulties enunciating each word in time, my regular lyrics have more breathing space. Ma used to bug me about slurring my words, and while I'm not completely incomprehensible unless feeling very timid, it's a good reason to train "lips, tongue & teeth".

(I may still edit the shit out of these rhymes, but that all depends.)

netflix & chill

I think I've been given an unfair amount of joy this summer and the time leading up to it. An unjustly potent chance to gather a incredible crowd of individuals that will most likely remain very dear to me until the day I kick the bucket. I'm treading on this mass of floaty euphoria, induced by people, substance and music. And no, I'm not ever going shut up about it.

Apšuciems, Skaņu Mežs, Zunda Dārzs, Rūpniecības ielas dzīvoklis.
Studija Mārupē, divas ikoniskas mājvietas kvartāla attālumā, hurrdurr Chomsky.
Kaņepes Kultūras Centra trāpīgā iemanīšanās iesprukt kaut kādu lielo notikumu šķirbās..

***

Projekti, kuriem ir jārealizējas:

Šajā skaistajā vakarā sastapu arī Benitu, kura pieteicās būt mans izmēģinājuma trusītis pētnieciskā darbā par to, kā dažādi alkoholi maina emocionālo nostāju.

Galvenā doma par to, ko es varētu ķepināt no māla keramikas kursos, kuriem beidzot esmu pieteikusies, ir tie visi radījumi, kuri rādas acu priekšā pirms gulētiešanas, it īpaši biedējošie. Gribu detalizētu aprakstu par katra baiļu pielietošanas metodēm un funkcijām.

Netflix & chill rock-solid tradīcija. Palaizam puķīti.

Draugu pielietojums vai nu stipri personalizētā fotosesiju sērijā, vai nu slightly off tēlu radīšanā, whimsical to the max. Gan jau, ka iekļaus tās pašas rokas.

Growth sucks

and karma's a bitch. I am being offered, more or less, everything I've wished for in a relationship, and here I find myself unable to receive it. It seems wrong to deny such an offer, goddamn beautiful as it is, but I am cursed with the knowledge that I just wouldn't be able to fucking deal with giving myself up again. I am scared shitless of depending on another person. *see: "Cuddling: No Questions Asked"
The sad fact is, that from the point in my life that I engaged in my first serious relationship, I have not had sufficient time to myself. I haven't known how to deal with a single me. Now that I feel more than ready to choose that road, the obstacles in my way have taken a lot of trouble to represent a good amount of irony. I know what to do, it's just difficult to accept. Bitch.

not fucking fair

I know it's easy, okay? I know. It's too easy.

Pipilotti Rist - I'm a victim of this game (wicked game)

Cuddling: No Questions Asked

A friend once called me the most ridiculously happy person she knew. I recently had a desire to look a bit more closely at my obnoxious ☮❁everything is beautiful❂♥ choice of seeing the world around me. I call it obnoxious because it is, simply put, a deliberate inability to let go of a kalopsic vision I've lived on for a long time. I'm pretty sure I'm better off clinging to it, because it is what I recognize in myself when they say people are programmed to believe. Discarding it, I'd wither away into something else, whether for better or for worse, I can't say. But I'm sure I'd hate the process.

To formulate what I mean by it is not the easiest task: this is, I think, the fifth time I sit down to write and rewrite this particular post. I've tried to express it in a myriad of different ways, e.g. through several projects of capturing "the thing, the spark, the cherry on top", but there are less conscious things that represent it very aptly, such as my getting very exited about the most trivial things, like moss growing on a balcony
the feel of fabric against my skin, under my fingers
or the way a word rolls off one's tongue
(obnoxious);
such as my love for books and bodies and beauty; my desperate empathy that often does my harm than good, and my glee in keeping the mystery in things - I bet I'm being unnecessarily vague even now. It is what often keeps me from hating myself when I am riddled with guilt or grief, my unending appreciation for the friends I have and had, and the overly pronounced sense of loss when they're gone.

I've found that enough anxiety kills it. Killed it at least once. Lost the bubbles in my lemonade. Let life be taken over by tension in my chest and paranoia in my mind that wouldn't. fucking. leave. It was a long, dark period that destroyed many a thing I had built for the first time. Yet, I am bubbly once more.

Holding on, baby steps, yada-yada.
Have a shallow thought - "Sex is not the point." Silly it may be, but that tiny, specific statement was one of the things that made it a lot easier for me to communicate comfortably again. It served as a comforting concept for a gullible, ample-bosomed girl like myself, wondering how much of my likeability depends on my sex-appeal. It also spread itself into a metaphor, proclaiming that people don't necessarily need you to be the version of yourself that benefits them the most. Now, with everything and everybody that has/have happened to me in the past couple years, such concerns have been, for the most part, exterminated, but it feels important to mention.

What's more, it was intensely liberating to realize that, for me, the pinnacle of a relationship between two people is not a super-intimate, love-crazed, daring, trusting, sexually mind-blowing samba. It used to be the dream, sure, but over time I've found that it's not really what I'm looking for. Because in there, somewhere, is mutual dependency, idealistically and perfectly balanced, and not included in my little vision bubble of realistically happy things.
Now, although my libido does, indeed, disagree from with me time to time, what I want most from the people around me is just that connection that keeps conversations going throughout the late hours in the kitchen, the spit-balling back and forth, throwing ideas, observations, admirations around. Joint creation, seewhatididthere, har har.

Being bi has probably had something to do with this, since there is a considerably smaller amount of differentiation within feelings towards people of either sex. Which I find very comfortable, but has also fucked up the perception of my feelings to the extent that I cannot, at times, understand what it is I feel for somebody, no matter how distant or close. Still, I can definitely proclaim that I love all of my friends quite dearly, mostly platonically. It's probably prudent to voice that the confusion is less present than it was when a few certain fucky-uppy relationships were more recent, so yeah, don't worry, it doesn't have to get weird.

My point, though, relates to the title.
There are few things that I value more in this world than the opportunity to trust someone freely, with body, mind, moment - giving and receiving, no questions asked. To be able to enjoy a presence at close proximity without any concerns of what that implies or what's expected of you. An opportunity to caress for the sake of a caress, letting warmth and affection float around without leading you anywhere.
Such an opportunity doesn't necessarily have the option to be understood, not completely, but therein lies the trust and the freedom I am so thankful for.
And in case the previous paragraphs have not unburdened me of the need to clarify, I am not talking about anything more revealing than cuddling. I could be, but as of yet, I am not. My loved ones (see above) are aware of the sensitivity of my body at different levels. I am very fucking ticklish, I have a neck-area-related paranoia/weak spot, and I am amusingly easy to seduce. The fact that I am somewhat more vulnerable that the average Jill does well to deepen my respect for that kind of rare moment I would not have always believed possible. Then again, life seems to get more beautiful and delicate each day.
Go figure.

crushes & cat-piss

I would hate to think that my life patterns and my general liking for people will not throw me into another relationship too soon, but if the past is anything to go by, I don't really stay single for too long. I declare a moratorium from things relationship, ffs
Though I can't say I regret this last encounter in the slightest, however fucked up the general overview of the whole thing might be. Undefined, non-committal, rather challenging; very enjoyable. Yeah, yeah, so I imagined that things would go more smoothly than they did, I got me idealistic dreams, what else is new. There was that silly little part of me that expected Ed to be all distanced, since his face implied that he was, and since I'd finally succeeded in doing so myself. So now I'm responsible for another griefy grief, but we have both learned a lot, and I do mean a lot from each other. So, yeah, fuck you too, you weirdo, hope you're doing okay.

 

Jeff Bridges - Slow Boat

Dienā, kad izšķīros, es aizvilkos pie Diānas un solidarizējos ar viņu, gruzoties un klausījoties "sūdi nāk" dziesmas. Chris Isaak, Lana Del Rey, značit cliché to the max. Vienā brīdī atnāca Žū un bija mīļs, un tad kādā vēlākā brīdī mēs trijatā ostījām dažādus priekšmetus virtuvē ar nodomu lokalizēt kaķa čuru smaku. Tad, ļoti iespējams, skanēja šis seksīgās balss īpašnieks ˄

Dzīve šobrīd ir interesanta, nesūdzos.

sandwich

Feel like creating something, but I am hellishly out of practice in the sketching department, and my wordy muse is nowhere to be found, so I'm settling on a boring image that is roughly familiar to nearly everybody I know.
Having been holed up for about two days, I feel myself sinking into that treacherous brain-space which lives on lazy, binge-like behavior that is nobody's business but my own. I wouldn't say I have done nothing, but it's not much. I've got self-inflicted obligations waiting for me around the corner, though - all clean and dressed and pretty, I will be leaving the premises before long. As much as I ache for the beautiful people out there, there is a part of me reluctant to abandon this comforting place. Ya know. Home.
So excuse my uninterested, tedious prattling. I am bathing in nostalgia and I like it.

There is something to be said about being the only human being in the house, being lulled by the rain outside; happily indulging in very impressive graphic novels, both story-line & art-work wise; typing with one hand because the cat is lying on the other..

 "yaas."

The Antlers - Hospice

images galore

I had the loveliest of trips fri-to-sat. Ed and I set out on our adventure after the sweatiest band practice I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing, being the lucky ones of the evening and receiving the one room without ventilation.
So, acid. The taste was as bitter as the feelings intense. Music came in waves and made me feel like I was holding on for dear life. Goddamn you, Godspeed You!
We were out of sync, which was interesting, seeing as each got to observe the heights of the other from a saner standpoint. We had laughter and owl-demons on walls, and sound mutilations and strawberry ice cream, straight from the box, in the safe haven that is the sofa-bed. One thing we agreed on was that it didn't seem as cold as it usually does.

We were playing it pretty safe, but interesting stuff is always bound to happen, amirite? We had ventured downstairs with sober Pete and encountered some fellow drunken neighbors who were having a party of some sort on the second floor. My cat-friend was there, too - this gray & white little puss that hangs around that front yard from time to time. I'm pretty sure she's either lost of has been abandoned, 'cause she wears this dirty yellow collar and has pretty much adopted that yard, which often houses a very comfy motorcycle I've found her curled up on more than once. She's pretty dirty herself, but, oh, is she ever so sweet.
Our dear neighbors were exceedingly friendly, and Pete fucked off to Chomsky, so what we did, naturally, was join the festivities for a bit. Had some punch, played some Mortal Combat on Sega. Brief and blissful. Not sure if anyone suspected our disposition, but conversation was smooth enough, and they were probably too drunk to care anyway.

Towards the end, we had some obligatory existential conversation, actually went outside and had breakfast in the park, after which the fatigue started kicking in for real. Watched some very odd videos accompanied by a bottle of Lambrusco (of all things), and finally nodded off after 33 hours of no sleep, which was, in turn, remedied by 14 hours of that shit.

The picture above features the blueberries Ed brought back to me after his little nature hike in Mordanga. Mostly unrelated to more recent events.

heart of an artichoke

Apparently there's a sinkhole in our garden.

And art out there that's so good it drains you.

Un es esmu ļoti mazs lācītis.

Trešdiena.

Rets melanholisks rīts.

Biju izgājusi mātes (tobrīd tukšā) dzīvokļa pagalmiņā. Pavēroju lidojošu pūku, pamanīju, ka pār palodzi vienai no logiem ceturtajā stāvā rēgojās kaķa austiņas. Uz brīdi bija acu kontakts. Tad viena auss, tad tikai palodze.

Protams, ka biju neizgulējusies. Nopirku šādu kofeīnu par godu Diānai K. ♥

Vakarā devos satikt sen neredzētu draugu - Arti, kurš ir no Talsiem ar triju gadu pieredzi Vācijā. Aizvedu viņu uz Dad 5 gadu jubileju, burvīgs pasākums. Daudz siltas jūtas, kuras atsvēra rīta nomāktās. Dabūju nest vienu no kūkām.

Kad jau viss bija norimies, izdomājām, ka varētu paciemoties arī Vecrīgā, ja jau viņš šeit jūtas kā tūrists. Izdomāju, ka varētu pačekot DJ Bāru. Pa ceļam mums pievienojās vācietis, ar kuru Artis bija iepazinies jubilejā. Viņu sauc Matthias, viņš ir fiziķis, nogalēs biškopis. Viņš nedzer alu bērnības traumas dēļ un ir iemīlējies mūsu televīzijas tornī. DJ Bārs bija tukšs, tādēļ Alā, kurā danču vakars jau bija beidzies, mēs norunājām līdz brīdim, kad bārmenis ļoti skaisti iejaucās sarunā, lai teiktu, ka jāiet.

Citāts no divu ievērojami vecu vīru sarunas Majoru vilciena stacijā:

"Es sāku sadalīties."

"Es nesāku sadalīties, es sāku izkust."

if Ben Frost could affect the weather

A couple of days ago, while on my way from a train, and to resume what turned out the be a thoroughly amusing transcription process, I had the pleasure of walking in the vicinity of quite the composed woman who had just purchased quite the charming second-hand teddy bear. While waiting at a red light, I observed as she looked him over scrutinisingly, removing a couple bits of fluff, and then peeked down his overalls as if to check whether or not teddy had shat himself.

Inwardly, yet not so secretly, I'm a bit horrified at how bad my memory has appeared to have become. I have been drinking a lot, thanks to my wonderful, beautiful friends. Maybe it's ironic, considering how intent I about preserving memories when I was mostly unhappy.

Edgar showed me another musician who committed suicide. He hanged himself with his shirt from a barred window that wasn't all that high, which means he had to keep his legs off the ground while choking to death.

Roy Buchanan - The Messiah Will Come Again (live 1976)

But Ben Frost isn't dead. And maybe he can affect the weather, because I nodded off on the way back from his concert in Ventspils and reportedly missed the most amazing thunderstorm to grace this country in a good while.
His performance was almost literally mind-blowing, and by this I mean LOUD. And yes, really fucking good. It was quite fascinating to watch him on the stage, barefoot and wild, creating Sound that blasted from the speakers, shook the house to the foundations and me to the bone. I remember thinking: "I want that man."

a later date

Goodmorning.

Some undefinable time span that has lasted to the immediate present has been spent in a haze. Having been deprived of adequate sleepy sustenance, life just seems to get a bit mushy. I am, of course, partly at fault myself, since so many wonderful occurrences happen late at night, but even if I do get the hours, they lack depth, intersected by frequent waking and shifting. Since I've been stupidly happy, I'm not entirely sure what has brought this on.

This particular Thursday I wake after very vivid dreams featuring velociraptors behind doors (holding that round, rattling doorknob and pushing against the door, I couldn't have known that my dream possessed a hint of lucidity - that I was in control over whether or not I'd be able to hold the door closed, and hold I did.) and dead, then not dead father figures (as conviction makes it awfully real at the given moment, that part may just qualify as nightmarish: lying on the floor on his back, with overly pale, bluish skin and a vacant expression), and other already vague somethings having to do with a lot of stress and bright colours. I don't doubt this was under the influence of one of the melatonin pills I received from my mother yesterday, and that it is this I have to thank for the iffy, yet increasing clarity I'm hoping will last the day. I'm guessing that, having obtained the dreamspace to do so, my subconscious let loose a great deal of the thought residue that had accumulated during that time span which I hesitate to call even roughly the past two months, fearing blunder.

I will now cease writing and go off to commit myself to something responsible for a few hours, but oh, how reluctantly so. I keep forgetting how pleasant it is to do stuff I like.
Silly little blueberry

***

Here is what a past Emma naively wrote in hope that it would turn into something lengthy and structurized, ha ha. Considered dumping the whole thing - 'tis a bit stale, but, as she does, the sentimentality of fleeting memories got the better of me.

The "Cosmic Tranceportation" rave. Had no idea what to expect, ended up having the time of my life. Spiderweb decorations, strobe lights, the most lovely smoking breaks I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Paul and Morvv, the freakin' fuzzies all over the place, the guy who wasn't the mayor from BTVS. 
Wandering around alone in perfectly alternating sun, shade and wind while me buddies were working, (business trip, fyi). Them two shady guys in the park and their truly charming female friend who takes nicotine right to the lungs. "Bless you, darling".
Also Ryan, who I approached to avoid them, and who provided just the conversation I was hoping for. /I still haven't checked the music he recommended, jesus/ And last, but nowhere close to least: Maarupee ar Zhuu, M~ un Kalvaanu, seenju buljons. Trips, pastaiga, jumts. Zemenes, tumbas, bezmiegs. Te nav garumziimju.

can't can't catch catch

For the past month or so, I've been bugging myself about finally getting around to writing an entry, but all the things I'd write about happen too spontaneously and too close together. I'd say that's a good thing, seeing as I'm finally getting out there. You know, out there. It's as if life as I know it is slowly being taken over by life as I wish for it to be. Dreams come true, what the fuck.

Yemen Blues - "Trape La Verite"

While shelving all these mental reminders, though, one thing I kept coming back to was getting anxious on public transport. Just as a good starter, something to get the words flowing, so I might as well. Think of an overcrowded tram - picture the awkward shuffling, the accidental brushes, the stress of trying to manage, (without excessive use of your elbows) to get out, get out, get out. There have been times when I just stand there, squeezed in between a pole and someone's backpack, resisting the urge to scream PERSONAL SPACE. Trying to ignore the creepy middle-aged guy "subtly" shuffling closer every once in a while. Yegh. I need to get a bike.

Though that's least interesting thing that's happened to me of late. I'm in fucking Edinburgh, for one. We're flying back tomorrow, Edgar, Paulie & me. It's been great, obviously. I love this place. I love the weather (you know which murderous wind I'm talking about), the funky people with their blunts and dreadlocks and crazy wedding plans, and their accent, god fucking damn it, that beautiful, beautiful accent.

It was an adventure (and a crash course in getting to know Paulie) to get here. Turns out air travel doesn't have to be all that scary. Except when you have to choose food or a place to sit and you've got two people who don't know what they want, who're used to going with the flow that's led by others. Highly amusing, I say. Had a very nice time.

Yesterday evening the three of us were sitting at the table with Edgar's flatmate Matt, who'd invited two of his slack-lining friends over: Tom, who's french, and Simon, who's polish, but everyone thinks he's french. We were having a joint-effort dinner consisting of two impressive omelettes (one of which was devoid of paprika and celery, the consideration warms me wee heart), some really good salad, and home-made bread made by a friend's bread machine. It was an unexpectedly family-like moment in between all of the general "chilling out", and I believe that feeling right there is why people love to travel.

Jeez, all this awesome bullshit we three have been up to. Happy Emma is happy. The alternative title to this post was "broforce", that' s the level of sap I am capable of. I really suck at the game, though.

If I could, I would definitely stay here for longer. Maybe end up like Ance (suprise latvian), who planned to stay for six months, and has now been here for nearly five years.
Plenty of incentive to go back, though. Bands, all the shit at home to sort through, Max in the hospital. I'm scared for him. Probably more than he is, ma says he's pretty cheerful. Living with one lame eye isn't the worst thing that can happen to a person, but, shit, he's my brother, it hurts. The sight he lost may return, though, so I'm hoping for the best.

I can't put all of my experiences to words, there are too many. Serves me right for ignoring this place for too long. I may elaborate at a later date, but, for now, shortly -

I Love You All #Frank

all the way home

Found this. I don't feel depressed, not now, but it's relatable and in a highly enjoyable format. I suggest you take a look at the one about the dinosaur costume as well.

Jau kādu pusotru nedēļu Mežaparkā ciemojas Guna [Gún-ná] un Tomas [Tū-mas]. Vienmēr prieks izrakt to zviedru valodu, noslaucīt putekļus, un izmantot kam vairāk kā pāris frāzēm vai lasīšanai vienatnē. I don't know if it's the swedishness, or just being part of my family, but there's this awkwardness that precedes them, this inability to be in any way smooth about life. It's kind of endearing.
Bet viņi, protams, ir super-mīļi un jauki un ģimene. Viņi vispār atbrauca ar mērķi izrevidēt dārzu un bēniņus, un jāsaka, ka te pat sāk izskatās civilizēti, padarīts krietns darbiņš.

Šodien (neskatamies uz faktu, ka ir pāri pusnaktij) bijām uz Avengers: Age Of Ultron. Es braucu no Dreiliņiem, tādēļ čakars, un es nešaubos, ka kaut kādā brīdī noteikti tika pieminēts fakts, ka mēs ejam uz seansu Alfā, bet kā reiz 19:10 atrados Forum Cinemas un priecājos, ka esmu laikā uz oficiālo sākumu 19:15. Pa ceļam uz 6. tramvaju satiku Arvi, kurš nupat kā bija redzējis; viņš kļuva par manu kompanjonu lielāko ceļa daļu pārbāztajā transportā. Mani mierināja ar faktu, ka filma gara, un tik tiešām nokavēju tikai kādu piektdaļu. Tā izrādījās labāka, nekā gaidīju, + parādījās vairāki iemīļoti aktieri blakus lomās. *Gollum, Gollum*

***

Vakar mēs visi trīs apciemojām tēva māsīcu, viņas vīru un co. Doles salā. Tur vienmēr ir jauki, tur vienmēr ir neticams daudzums ēdiena, kuru tev tagad ir jāstūķē sevī iekšā, bet tas ēdiens ir fantastisks, tādēļ sanāk. Ir, protams, arī ko dzert.
Mani mīļie, muzikālie, dāsnie, ēst-gatavot-mīlošie radinieki burtiski dzīvo blakus Daugavas muzejam, un pēc pārēšanās norisinās neizbēgama muzeja apskate. Tā ir burvīga vieta, it īpaši šajos pavasara laikapstākļos. Vecajās mājās smaržo pēc bērnības. Pašas muzeja ēkas iekštelpās mēdz būt arī kāda izstāde kombinācijā ar permanento, un par šobrīd esošo esmu sajūsmā - Edgara Vērpes gleznas. Viņam patīk zivis.

***

Aizvakar atbraucu pēc darbiņa mājās, kur ciemojās arī mamma. Viņa, tētis un Guna bija pielējušies ar džinu & toniku un traumatizēja manu nabaga (pieaugušo) brālēnu ar seksa apspriešanu. Man šo cilvēciņu dēļ ir iegaršojies džins, vai nav jauki?
Es piebildīšu, ka mēs tikai mazliet esam alkoholiķi, ja nu kāds taisās uztvert biežāk pieminēto, pudelēs esošo parāk nopietni.

Tā diena bija viena no tām, kura draud virmot nepārtrauktā stresā, bet izrādās ļoti patīkami mierīga. Vecumnieku kora skate Majoros nebija no labākajām, bet tikām cauri. Mēs iedziedājāmies & pārģērbāmies mazo cilvēciņu klasē - es ilgi un dikti jūsmoju par uzzīmētu Latvijas karti ar nokarenu "snīpi". Es aizmirsu to iemūžināt, bet ak mans dievs, šarmantāku LV nekad mūžā neesmu redzējusi, atskaitot, protams, īsto.
Nācās arī pielietot, tā teikt, "praktiskās korinieces" metodes: pēc mana izmēra jau tie svārki nav šūti, un šis nebija gluži tas variants, kad varēju tajos iedurstīt pāris saspraudes un miers. Nē, man un vēl vienai maza izmēra dāmai svārki tika piešūti pie krūštura. Iesaku šo metodi, nekas nespiež un nost arī neslīd.
Otrs figņāls mazāk smieklīgs, bet tomēr: esmu beidzot iegādājusies obligāto, citur-kā-uz-skatuves-tā-man-uz-sejas-nerādīsies spilgti sarkano lūpu krāsu, un korim jau sastājoties pie durvīm Sindija atskārta, ka ir aizmirsusi nokrāsot lūpas. Nodevu viņai ašu buču. No attāluma gan jau nevarēja redzēt, ka mazliet šķībi.

Uz darba vakarā maiņu tiku laikā, un tā norisinājās pārsteidzoši lēnīgi. Atpūtos un uzjautrinājos par visādām mazām lietām. No rīta kādi klienti bija ēduši zemenes, un jūs taču zināt, ka mums ir tā benčiku burciņa uz palodzes, un nu lūdzu..

***

Vēl divas dienas pirms tam Alice-the-secret-rabbit un Roberts-kurš-rotē-kucēnus aktualizēja savu sen organizēto pre-Eirovīzijas ballīti. Katram no mums bija jāsimbolizē vienu no valstīm, kura piedalījās. Man ieteca Islandi, es biju Islande.
Kā simbolizēt Islandi? DC Diāna man atgādināja, ka eksistē tāda Björk, es biju Björk. Tērps dažādu iemeslu dēļ bija pavisam cits, nekā biju iecerējusi, bet toties man tagad ir ļoti jauks paisley hipij-krekls. Protams, ka kavēju šo pasākumu, uz kuru bija sacepti ruma mafini ar attiecīgo valstu karodziņiem, izprintētas atsevišķas vērtējumu lapas, izvēlēti šova vadītāja tērps un vadītājas četri tērpi (viņa pat pauzēs gāja uz vannasistabu pārģērbties, a mēs, āpši, vienmēr vilcinājāmies un negājām atpakaļ uz lielo istabu, likdami viņai tur tupēt un mūs gaidīt). Protams, ka ierados vairāk kā stundu vēlāk uz ballīti, kurā mani piedzirdīja ar savu rumu, pārāk priecājās par manis atnestajām, pilnīgi un galīgi neatbilstošajām Vācu bonbongām, pēc kuras mani izguldīja un izglītoja iepriekšējo gadu briesmīgākajās Eirovīzijas un ne-Eirovīzijas dziesmās. Godam izcietām un izbaudījām. Paldies, mīļie. ♥

***

And some more days prior to this, after an interesting night, I found myself walking home at 06:30 in the morning, buying cigarettes at the Brasas Fēnikss, and thereafter wearily reminiscing to Foo Fighters and chain-smoking all the way home.

mercy

Vakar spontāni iegriezos pie Gustava, papļāpājām, noskatījāmies "As above, so below".

Mazliet paraudāju, bet laikam jau labi, ka tā.

Māsas Rozenblates grib mani savervēt nākamgad iet uz otro kursu Rožos.

"Grib savervēt? Viņas jau to ir izdarījušas." Nu labi, Terēz, jā.

Tas diezgan lielā mērā izmainīs manus turpmākos dzīves plānus. Tagad skicēšu ēkas un figūras un visu ko, lai nebūtu pinīgi zaļš auglis uz iestājeksāmeniem. Bet būtu labi. Pavērtos iespēja, piemēram, iestāties Mākslas Akadēmijā, un šī doma man dikti patīk.

Paldies, Edgar! ♥︎ Ar nokavēšanos lieku gifu, par kuru nekad nepārstāšu jūsmot. 

Viedots no divām bildēm, kuras tika uzņemtas pastaigā ar  Vendiju.

Paldies arī viņai. Un kaķim.

i want to kiss someone

Finally got the chance to start filming - Vendija joined the mild choir celebrities at Valmiermuiža after the skate, which was very pleasant. I liked it. There was an inspiring drummer backing the rather sad Carmena Burata for the combined choirs part.

I digress. Vendija stayed over and got to be my guinea pig for the filming, starting off with the hands, ah, the shapes that I've been so impatient to capture. Here's one of mine.

We had a very pleasant walk around Mparks, a lot of giggling, as per usual. A lot of antics involving trees, a lot of personalisation of inanimate objects, a lot of close-ups on faces that can barely contain a laugh. They've started the cotton candy season, by the way.

The more I interact with the Canon, the more I want one myself. Such a shame I have to return it as soon as this Monday. Edgars S., kameras īpašnieks, gan būs trešais dalībnieks manā iecerētajā trio, so domājams, ka ar laiku varēšu atļauties garākus laika posmus.

Divi man vispazīstamākie Last Train dalībnieki ir atsākuši ar mani kontaktēties, t.i. Kārlītis & Čūbis. Prieciņš, prieciņš, gribas viņus satikt. Virsū nāk nostalģija par visādiem jaukiem vakariem. Nezinu, vai esmu kaut kur rakstījusi par to, kā mēs trīs, pārguruši, vasaras? naktī sēdējām uz soliņa pie Brīvības pieminekļa un dalījām vienu cigareti. Ārkārīgi šarmanti. c:

And yeah, something hormonal is seemingly going on, I'm aching for physical contact. Hence, (d'uh), the title. Wanna, wanna, wanna.

CAMRA

Yesterday was an official sick day. Herbal concoctions, lots of water, and the joy of playing around with my newly-borrowed camera. I'm amazed, actually, that my efforts of getting well in time for the KORA SKATE seem to have payed off.

I wanted to get a picture of the three invalids - me, my sister (who was also feeling a tad poorly, being exhausted form all the dancing the does), and Pumi (who got into a pretty bad fight and looks rather dramatic at the moment, but it proved too much to get everybody to cooperate to that extent. I offer my compromise:

breaking the pattern

Dreamt about Gus and Kat. She was being nice to me. Stulbā realitāte.
I daresay, I believe that it hasn't occurred to her that these patterns of mine that have been in the spotlight during her conversations with other people who are/were once rather close to me has an origin of problematic mental nuances, all of which I would gladly rid myself of. It's not a result of some whimsical desire to fuck with people's heads, thank you very much. I get the distinct impression she doesn't give a hoot about my side of the tale.
Not that I'm trying to rid myself of guilt, oh no, there's plenty of that, don't worry.
It's just that I miss you guys.

bet toties es pamodos pie šīs sejas - ap kādiem astoņiem no rīta. es nezinu, ko dara mans bioloģiskais pulkstenis, jo tas ne tuvu nebija pietiekami.

fak, es negribu atkal pazaudēt spēju izbaudīt miegu

mīlu savus kaķus

tās nebija lieldienas

Tā bija maza, "ģimeniska" sanākšana, kurā nepiedalījās brālīšu tēvs, jo viņš nevēlējās, un māsa, jo viņu nevarēja laikus pamodināt. Atliek, bez manis - mamma, tētis, Makss & Niko. Garšīgi paēdām, un tad sākām strīdēties kamēr brālīši skraidīja apkārt pa dzīvokli šokolādes olu medībās. Pamodās arī māsa - tieši laikā, lai varētu iesaistīties.

Ilgi nebiju strīdējusies ar mammu. Ne vienai, ne otrai  īsti nepadodas būt pārlieku objektīvai, un viņa manus neapdomīgi asos vārdus uztver ļoti personīgi. Bet asums ir pašaizsargreakcija. Un daļēji arī "the cold, hard truth".. vai varbūt es tā tikai gribu domāt.

Kā nekā, tētim apnika - viņš aizbrauca mājās. Kad starpt mums, meitenēm, bija sasniegtas arī asaras, ar māsu izgāju pastaigā. Šie ir tie brīži, kad attiecībās ar māsu parādās izteikts mīļums. Jauki parunājāmies, un pie krastmalas satikām vienu man semi-pazīstamu Gundaru no izbijušā Rezonanses dzīvokļa. Pie pašas krastmalas skatījāmies fantastisku saulrietu un taisījām small-talk. Viņš, iespējams, izlems pafilmēt mana projekta ietvaros. Būtu jauki, viņam padodas.

Nāca virsū lietus, atvadījāmies un aizgājām atpakaļ pie mammas ēst saldējumu un pakļauties post-strīda apskāvieniem.

Visu padarīšanu laikā nokrāsoju tieši vienu olu.

***

Edgars ir atpakaļ. Vēl sešas dienas.

Mums netīši izdevās uztaisīt welcome-back ballīti pie Mārtiņa (skatīt iepriekšējā ieraksta priekšpēdējo teikumu), un tas viss norisinājās tīri patīkami.

Dabūju atkal sapazīstināt draugus no dažādām malām. Dabūju satikt Justīni. Rozā zilonis ir sasodīti šarmants koncepts, pilnīgi skauž, ka attiecīgā grupa to ir piesavinājusies.

Edgar and I had been talking about having an acid trip together for a good while now.

Tika spriests, ka ir vajadzīgas mātes džambas un toņdakša. Liels prieks par to - ja es nebūtu gājusi tiem pakaļ, mani nebūtu sagaidījis šis skats:

šeku pa labi sēž teddy diktators un stāsta gudras lietas saviem kreisajiem teddy padotajiem

Also, having a jamba was most definitely a good thing.

I must say that things went pretty much the way I expected them to, which is a rare gift, especially since I expected them to be utterly amazingly lovely. I was a tad nervous about trying the real thing for the first time, and the intensity was rather ovewhelming at some points, but the tingly joy and the colours and my cat, for fuck's sake, are only a few of the things that greatly outweighed any negative aspects.

lookit at our pretty table with all the noms & candles & wine

We spent a great deal of time on the safe haven of the blanket I'd put previously on the floor, either staring at the ceiling and such from the upside-down perspective, contemplating the fact that we're probably not ready for the books yet (I mean, holy hell, words on pages, man) or having me dig my old dolls out from that big basket I've got, to describe and then elaborate on origin and history.

We also went out for a walk at one point, du'h , it's a must. Went down to the playground and talked dreams and horror movies, then proceeded to loop back around and walk through the main avenue, following the moon. She was being one hell of a tease, peeking through the trees and taking up a lot of attention with her luminosity. It seemed to me that the glimpses I caught were too defined to be partially hidden, but the shapes were always unreal, though very pretty.

Eventually we gave up on finding a place where we could get a full view, but - as luck would have it - we received exactly that through the window upon getting back to my room, even though that was realised only when a smoke was in demand.

Jack Kerouac - The Moon Her Majesty (1958)

Towards the end we watched Only Lovers Left Alive, which is and will likely always remain amongst my very favourite movies. It was a very apt reminder of what life is capable of giving, hinting at the essence of beautiful things.
And that soundtrack, goddamn.

***

Vakar, protams, bija nogurums, it īpaši uz maiņas beigām, bet arī darba diena bija ārkārtīgi patīkama. Strādāju ar Diānu, un laikam vislabāk man patīk strādāt tieši ar viņu, lai gan Lindu pazīstu visilgāk un Laura ir tikpat šarmanta, cik rozā zilonis. Negaidīti piekāpa Miks G., un klientu apmeklējums bija pietiekami šķidrs, lai dotu man iespēju apsēsties ar kūkas gabaliņu un ar viņu kādu laiciņu papļāpāt. Vienā brīdī kafejnīcā bija ienācis arī Renārs Kaupers, un man jau šķita, ka man tika tas gods uztaisīt viņam siera pankūku, bet izrādījās, ka to bija pasūtījis cits cilvēks no viņa galdiņa.

Terēze atnāca pie beigām ar nolūku atbraukt pie manis ciemos, bet Edgars piedāvāja pačilot darba dzīvoklī, so aizgājām tur un mazu laiciņu sēdējām, dzerot pārsteidzoši tīkamo, dzirkstošo vīna dzērienu "Hugo". (nu fek. mājās izsprāga korķi un man jau ir jāskrien uz angļu val. stundu. Tātad publicēšu, bet vēlāk papildināšu un pielabošu.
Gaisa skūpsts jums.) Ja uz kontekstuālo autobusu es paspēju tieši, tad ar Terēzi noskatījos, kā tonakt aizgāja pēdējais 11. tramvajs. Jau augšā pie Edgara sāka mākties virsū nogurums, un beigu galā līdz Mežaparkam čāpoju pusaizmigusi. Bet laikam tā vajadzēja, jo Terēze savu sirdi kratīja visu ceļu, un tomēr neplanēju pārāk daudz, lai zustu spēja viņu uzklausīt. Labais, mīļais Žukiņš.

Un brīdis, kad viņa izvilka savas divas pēdējās cigaretes uz manām mājas kāpnēm; vēl jo vairāk - kad mēs uz tām apsēdāmies, bija sasodīti skaists.

to Jimi

Šorīt pamodos Buratino.
Līdz tam brīdim mani noveda vairāki brīnišķi notikumi, so, lūdzu, mana vakardiena:

Kad atvēru acis vismaz trešo reizi, izlīdu no gultas beidzot faking izgulējusies, bet, kā jau notiek, ar miglainu galvu nomuļļājos un kavēju vokālu pie Inesītes. Vienā brīdī pie viņas pilnīgi iracionāli nošļuka garīgais, bet tad viņa sāka spēlēt džeza klasiskas, so mēs dziedājām džezu. Problem solved.

Tālāk devos pie mātes, lai sameklētu un atdotu Gustavam kora tērpa maisu, kurā viņš man atnesa manu un viņa Vox tērpu, un tā arī todien atstāja, pat ne netīšām, smieklīgi. Bet pirmais zvana pogu pie durvīm nospieda Kaspars, nevis Gustavs, jo Maksim ģitārstunda -bija viens to tiem momentiem, atverot durvis.
Gāju prom reizē ar Kasparu, kuru nācās mazliet gaidīt, un mūs kādus piecus metrus no durvīm apstādināja divas jaunas meitenes un pārbaudīja mūsu zināšanas par Ģertrūdes ielu. Šķita, ka jau atkal kavēšu, so Kaspars kādu pusotru kvartālu paveda mani uz stūres. Faking riskanti & faking jautri. Kādreiz būs jāpalūdz viņam tā izdarīt vēlreiz. c:

Sekoja ceļš uz Dreiliņiem (gan turpceļā, gan atpakaļceļā ļoti ilgi nācās gaidīt transportu), & stunda ar skolnieci, no kuras es saņēmu vissaistāko sīpolu mizām krāsoto olu ever.
Tad devos uz DadCafé, lai bedzot nokārtotu to baltvīns vs. šampanietis huiņu, un ar ļoti pretīmnākošas vecākās kasieres palīdzību man tas izdevās, un izdevās tajā pašā laikā, kad Diāna tika galā ar čeka papīriņu apmaiņu DC kases aparātā. Dalījāmies ar saviem priekiem ar Lindu, Sandri (to eņģeli, kurš nāca man līdzi pirmajā mēģinājumā skaidrot lietas) un viņa draugu, kam neatceros vārdu. Celebratory smoking ensued.
Linda, dzirdot, ka es eju uz party hard vakarā, minēja, ka Buratino arī notiek pasākums, un viņai izdevās panākt to, ka nosolos uz turieni aizdoties, arī ja tas būtu krietni pāri pusnaktij. Tā arī neuzzināju, kam par godu tur pasākums.

Tad biku paciemojos pie Žū, kurš mani pacienāja ar jaunu pīrādzīņu Takas ēdienkartē, un vēl ieteica hipster aliņu, kurš tiešām bija garšīgs: Žū vārdiem raksturojot, "puķains". Piekāpa arī Diāna, un mēs Uijā Uijā Nikni Vilki pavadījumā gājām pīpēt un smieties par Diānu un politiku. Ne tajā brīdī uzzināju, ka Žū dzīvokļbiedram Henrikam vārda diena. Tas ir svarīgs fakts. Tad, lai gan bija palikusi vairāk kā stunda, čāpoju uz koncertiņu.

"Nāriņas Sala" ir diezgan tīkama pagrabstāva vietiņa pie Pēterbaznīcas. Tur biju pirmo reizi, par godu grupu kvartetam, kurš sastāvēja no Be Reet, Nation Vibe, Errantry un Chomsky Chess Club. Visās grupās pazīstami cilvēki. Cilvēku bija faking daudz. Ieskaitot Aigaru, kurš ir atbraucis no Skotijas, prieciņš viņu redzēt.
Arī ieskaitot Katrīnu & Gustavu, kuru ierašanās laikā nolēmu, ka jāsāk dzert.

Ko Emma Vakar Dzēra?

0,33 Bohemian Pale Ale "Two Towers"

0,5 Long Island Ice Tea (laimīgās stundas win ar Miku)

0,5 Sex On The Beach (laimīgās stundas win ar Kristu)

kāda piektdaļa no vēl viena Longailenda, kuru it kā Miks nopirka mums abiem, bet es biju pārāk aizņemta ar dejošanu, lai burciņai (burciņai!) pārāk pievērstos.

~random šots~

0,? Mohito (courtesy of Mike*)

And imagine, I don't even feel like shit.

Koncerts bija fantastisks. Be Reet līmenis nezūd, un Nation Vibe bija viens no tiem  vakariem ar izcilu vaibu. (< Hah, cik absurda frāze.) Abas pārējās arī dikti iepriecināja, lai gan pie CCC jau biju pietiekamā žvingulī, lai priecātos par visu. 

Notika vairākas random un jaukas lietas, kā piem. tas, ka satiku Gunu V. un mainīju viņas domas par mani (es pieņemu) pa 180˚; tas, ka Krista ar mani dziedāja QOTSA & Arctic Monkeys lirikas, lai gan mana atmiņa mani ļoti pievīla tajā brīdī; tas, ka Miks aicināja iziet augšpusē ar vārdiem "Ejam pīpēt?", lai gan pats nepīpē. Un, protams, nedrīkst ignorēt dekoratīvās nāriņas ar sirsniņpupiem uz bāra sienām.

Bet es tā izdejojos. Es nezināju, ka man kaut kas tāds ir iekšā. Nav ne jausmas, kā tas izskatījās no malas, bet es jutos fantastiski, un bija tik faking jautri. Tā es pievērsu arī viena čaļa uzmanību, kurš sevi iepazīstināja kā *Mike no NYC. Mēs kādu laiciņu padejojām, tad izgāju uzpīpēt, un man sanāca pievienoties viņu bar-crawlam. (Jūs zinājāt, ka atsevišķās vietās ir pieņemts par to maksāt? Protams, ir parūpēts par to, ka visi tiek pienācīgi izklaidēti. Tapatās liekas kaut kā.. nepareizi? Es nezinu.)
Grupveidā aizgājām līdz Pulkvedim Neviens Neraksta, pļāpājām par mūziku un kultūru. Tur tika arī tas šots & mohito. Šotus iespaidīgā daudzumā uz paplātes nēsāja apkārt bārmene ar izsaucieniem "alkohols, alkohols!"
Tā kā tur nekas īpašs nenotikās, es izlēmu aizvest Mike uz Buratino Teātri, tātad stāstā tuvojamies pilnam aplim. Viņš man šodien pateicās par uzticēšanos, un es atskārtu, ka pat nebiju iedomājusies, ka viņam varētu būt bijuši kādi ļaundabīgi nodomi.
Bija atpalicis is this how stupid people die? moments.
Anywho, teātrī džemoja Ričijs un Čudars, es mazliet parunāju ar Lindu, bet vairāk par visu migu ciet. Mike pamodināja uz brīdi, lai atvadītos un pārliecinātu mani, ka viņa navigācijas spējas ir krietni labākas par manējām - viņš atradīšot ceļu uz hosteli un paspēs uz lidmašīnu no rīta, un vinš pat nesameloja. 

***

Tātad. Pamodos Buratino. Pirmā doma bija, ka tagad noteikti iet pirmie tramvaji, varu braukt mājās. Kā vēlāk izrādījās, tad bija jau kādi pusdesmit, bet par to neliecināja noskaņa, kura valdīja "mīkstajā" telpā ar vēl kādiem četriem guļošiem cilvēkiem.
Savācu savas pekeles, iztīrīju zobus ar pateicīgām domām pagātnes Emmai, kura iedomājās zobu birsti ielikt somā. Iekšēji sarāvos pie katras čīkstošo durvju izpausmes. Mazliet pasēdēju pīpotāju virtuvītē, dzerdama ūdeni. Tad klusiņām devos uz āru tikai lai atklātu, ka durvis ir slēgtas un ir jāmodina Kristaps. :c
Aizlavījos, pakratīju viņam kāju, viņš miegodamies sameklēja atslēgas un palaida mani prom. Iedevu viņam savu "recycle this thank-you" kartiņu, kuru man dāvāja Oskars Vailis pēc manis apciemošanas darbiņā ar Jeziku.
Priecādamās par paģiru trūkumu, es devos uz A/S Laimas pieturu un nonācu tur tieši laikā, lai redzētu kā divas Laimas veikaliņa darbinieces tur ienes būri ar milzīgu trusi.

Lol, tētis atnesa glāzi baltvīna. Paldies, bet nē paldies, tēti.
Kā reiz tiek rīkots kaut kas kolektīvs pie Vilnīša.
Atvainojos par iekavu daudzumu.

april april ar aizturi

Nogurumiņš. 9 stundu darba diena, pilna ar negācījām padara mani par nomocītu būtni, it īpaši pēc iepriekšējā vakara - teātris ar Mārtiņu; it kā dikti jauka, bet kaut ka dīvainas noskaņas runāšana Ļeņingradā, kur bijām ar Lauru A. un Līgu N.; pa vidu ziņa, ka mammai sāp un viņa tiek vesta uz slimnīcu; telefona vēlme taisīt pašnāvību; miega nespēja (jau atkal) izcīnīt savu vietu starp prioritātēm. Telefons pēc sava kritiena joprojām saņem ziņas un slēdz modinātāju, un pat reaģē uz "swipe", kas modinātāju izslēdz, bet ir izlēmis atklāt sava mākslinieka būtību un ekrānā taisīt abstraktas un minimālistiskas gleznas dažādos zilos toņos. Survival does that to you.
Manas dzīves šīgada aprīļa joka ķirsis virsotnē ir fakts, ka tas notiek dienu par vēlu.

Besī, ka eksistē tāds vairums ar lietām/vietām/konceptiem, kas mani paralizē. Kad baidos, kad mulstu, visdrošāk liekas izlikties, ka man ir konfrontācija ar tiranozauru - nekustēšos, nepamanīs. Atklāju, ka tomēr spēju raudāt, bet neraudāju, jo nedrīkstēju. Sev aizliedzu, jo būtu bijis stulbi, bet gribas kaut kā izlādēties.

Atnesu mammai rozā ziedu - viņa tagad atkal mājās, un jūtas daudz labāk. Tātad satraukties tik ļoti bija lieki, bet tomēr nē. Bet tomēr jā. Nevarēju atkratīties no domas, ka visa tā viņas depresija varētu izrādīties ironisks priekšnosacījums vēl vienai dzīves melnā humora izpausmei. Vārdsakot, negaidītai un ar to nesaistītai nāvei. Stulbā, blondā meitene, te sadomājusies nezin ko.

Ir patīkami, kad jūtūbs atstāj mētājāmies apkārt jauku mūziku, lai varu tai uzdurties.

Causa Sui - Euporie Tide (2013)

>!_+#

My dad turned 58 yesterday. Mom's turning 47 tomorrow.

I want to make an animation of a something chasing after its own heart, which is being a c!#* and flying f'?*♥i#* all over the place. It also has, like bloody superpowers and s§!*, turning invisible and skipping dimensions, all of them, for f!&*'# bleedin' f-!§"n# **?@-.

I've started reading The Lord Of The Rings, oh, glory to the full title. Figured it might be the time to get around to finally burying my nose in my big, red, allthreeinone edition of the story.

Edgar's back on Saturday.

May this post serve as a fixation in time.

the show must go on

Esmu izlēmusi - (šie vārdi skan ironiski, tīrā fantastika) - BET, jā, esmu izlēmusi klausīt tai beznosacījuma mīlestībai, kas manī virmo. Kļūt pat vienu no tiem "free love" cilvēciņiem; lai gan, nē, jo, godā vārds, līdz nelabumam apriebušās visas definīciju kastītes. (miskuzī for being deep) Vienīgā kastīte, kuru esmu gatava savai nostājai uzlikt, ir "Emma". Ja lieku ko citu, es automātiski adaptējos un reizē eju pretējā virzienā tam, kur vēlos nokļūt. Uz domām, ka šī ir pozitīva izvēle, mani mudina fakts, ka visi centieni noskaidrot, kas tad īsti notiek, un centieni notiekošo ievirzīt kaut kā pēdējā mēneša laikā ir bijuši neveiksmīgi, un ne tikai neveiksmīgi, bet arī pietiekami destruktīvi, lai mani iebiedētu. Atkārtojos, kad saku, ka man riebjas sāpināt.

Varbūt liekas riskanti ieņemt tādu pārliecību (man arī, starp citu), bet varētu teikt, ka man ir 'hunch', ka tas ir tas, uz ko jāiet, or fucking else: pat velk uz to, ka ir pēdējais brīdis lauzties arā no pagātnes. I mean, protams, ka tas ir riskanti, bet ko var darīt, ja apkārtesošie cilvēki ir tik brīnumjauki, ka vēlos tos izzināt un iemīlēt? Uz šīs nots no sirds pateicos par pēcballītes rītu, mīļie. Jūtu nenormālu siltumu pret jums, un nevēlos šo siltumu ierobežot. Nebūtu smuki pret sevi, un ceru, ka ne tikai.

Šo padarīšanu nebūt nepielīdzinu kāda iekšējā zvēra palaišanai brīvībā, bet gan izaugsmei, vēlmei pārkāpt savam ego. Tas būs īsts pārbaudījums, ņemot vērā cik sistemātiski un ļoti mēdzu pieķerties cilvēkiem. Bet vismaz greizsirdība vairs neliekas tik būtiska problēma. Varbūt šo saku par ātru. Kā nekā ceru uz šī monstriņa iedzīšanu kaut kur aizkrāsnē.
Otrs monstrinš, reizē ļaunāks un labāks, ir sevis upurēšana citu priekam. Tas diezgan ačgārni ir izpaudies tieši attiecību sfērā, bet joprojām pie problēmu skanēm ostās.

Ja seko man tviterī, iespējams, zini, ka nespēju paraudāt. Jau kādu laiciņu. Tas man traucē. It kā tās attiecīgi provocējošās sāpes nepārsneidz vienu konkrētu punktu, un līdz asarām es vienkārši nenonāku. Ir aizdomas, ka tas ir kādas pašizveidotas barjeras dēļ, bet cik veselīgu funkciju šī barjera pilda, man nav zināms.
par sāpošiem pleciem

stulbene, stulbenis

The Handsome Family - Far From Any Road

Ah,

These last two days. Joy, joy, joy.
Tuesday was sorting music and meeting Rob & Miks for a little bit, getting my sister her replacement rum, then off to work that included burnt fingers and nearly botched lemon cake, the one Matīss on the piano and the other Matīss between four personalities, an adventure shared with Laura involving birch juice and ants and lots of giggling. She also caught Bon Iver's song "For Emma" on her playlist, more joy ensues. Then M~ tried to be threatening and ask for coffee at the same time, and somehow we ended up walking to my place and seeing the aurora on the way. Breathtaking.
Wednesday was a lot of honest conversation, sunshine and duck drama. I was going to have an english lesson, but it had been forgotten about, so I ended up visiting the honorary owner of the elephant glass a few hours earlier than I would have, which was just as well, because it turned out to be one of those nights with an endless exchange of information, be it songs or tea or documented memories of a trip around Europe. Or, or, seeing "La Grande Bellezza" - a truly amazing movie. Earnest was seeing it for the 8th freaking time.
Today promises to be lovely as well.
I want to write more, but I have to go. All my love to you guys.

Quantic - Time Is The Enemy

I am

sorting my entire music library. Yes.

this includes all of dad's music, so there is a shit-ton to go through

but I'm doing it, and it's going to be awesome

inevitably, forgotten gems pop up here and there

Blue Roses - Doubtful Comforts

well, fuck this

always, every goddamn time, it's a mess

and the past isn't real anymore, but the guilt-trips are

makes me feel emotionally dysfunctional - the scales are always tipping waay to one side; and then the other; and then they start spinning and fuck off to god knows where

millions of provocations, you know, the kind where you mean it, but not really

actions, reactions; fuck you, Einstein

yeah, I'm not dead either. sorry about the bruise

confessions

Hah, my confessions? Nope. Sucker.

Those of other people.
And even so, that's all you're gonna get.

I woke up about 20 minutes ago, after having fallen into this disorienting something that I hesitate to call actual sleep. I guess the past week or so has been tiring after all, despite all the elation. Seemingly unrelated to what's been happening as of late. All the same, I've been living some sort of dream. Stayed 5 nights away from home. Left my umbrella on the tram when finally going back. It's been said I need a stash of booze in my room. I agree.
The poem below was written during a modelling session for Gints, those have all been lovely. Beer and oranges. Thought I can't say for sure, but I'm thinking it's a good one. Anyhow, I like it.

Gus, if you're reading this - I'd like to have you know that I'm happy. Really fucking happy, in fact. Which I hadn't expected. Don't take it the wrong way, though. Eh.

this song is sex

"Easy" - Son Lux, ft. Lorde

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.