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.