Ilo Veyou

Of all the beautiful voices, of all the beautiful people, of all the enchanting minds - oh, belle fille...

(Camille, dūh)

Aujourd`hui, c`est le plus beau jour, c`est la plus belle vie, 

C`est le plus grand amour, sur la plus belle planète

Et aujourd`hui, c`est la plus belle minute, c`est la plus belle poussèe, 

C`est la plus belle chute

Sur la plus belle planète, la plus belle planète

Et aujourd`hui, c`est la plus belle seconde, c`est la plus belle la plus belle voix lactèe, la plus belle ronde

Sur la plus belle planète, la plus belle planète

Et aujourd`hui c`est le plus beau col, c`est le plus beau cordon, le plus beau bisphènol, le plus beau plomb, placentas, 

bèton, colostrum, ATL, uranium, OGM, homme, aime, femme, dioxyde de carbone.

Sur la plus belle planète, la plus belle planète...

Et aujourd`hui c`est le plus beau moment, c`est le plus beau bèbè, c`est la plus belle maman, Sur la plus belle planète

The most beautiful planet...?

My sister's godmother and her wife..

..stopped by today. They are among the nicest people I know.

Also, today I feel like shit. No matter how beautiful life is, there are always days that are just.. shit.
But no matter, I have quality vanilla ice cream. And a splendid notebook of which one side is just my kind of indigo. See, I'm cheering myself up already. The boy is composing music. The ghost is in the room. Did I just call this upon myself? ..oh, well, better turn on the other light. And light the candles. And be like, LIGHT!.

"Men mamma, dom är ju inga barn längre, dom är ju riktiga människor!" I miss my cousins.

Deja vu. The music just seems to disappear sometimes. And don't get to know your friends too well, ok?
Is it just me, or is dubstep slowly invading our brains?

ooh, look, I found something I wrote with cold fingers outside while waiting for someone who didn't arrive. fun.

get out of the den of friends

the lonely, righteous thieves

part of the rest of the onlookers

no matter how much they grieve

what drips from their fingers

won't be blood

yet it brings the flood

be silent in your screaming

don't you dare awaken

you, yourself, don't tear the fraying sky

we couldn't take that much at once

not now, not then

what you take in your hands

you can hurl

just let ignorance be the world

sharpen your decisions to a point

the you can stab at what you want

...aand that's all there was. Oh well. I didn't light the candle. 

anticipation

I just stayed up all night. For various reasons. Here is the music that kept me alive -

(A. J. Roach - "Devil May Dance")

(The Velvet Underground - "I'm Sticking With You")

(Budgie - "Parents")

(Air - "Run")

(Four Seasons, Summer 3/3)

Vivaldi

thank you

I'm gonna share a little thing with you all. Why, I don't know. Of course.

My parents wrote a song for me. I was probably about 3 years old at the time, and it's one of the best things they could have given me. Mom wrote he lyrics, dad composed the melody. He also knew a singer at the time, Cam, I remember her very vaguely. She sang it, recorded it, and put it in her album. "Song for E"is the song. My song. Heh.
I guess the point of this was to give my parents a 'thank you' that they'll probably never see. So there you go.

Now, the days..

I'm kinda in pain. I've made a few mistakes, explored a bit too much, and here comes our dear little friend called Guilt. So much has happened since the last time I was here, so many people have appeared to complicate everything, to change my sight.
And, I realized how much I've lost of my old life. You know those moments, right? - the ones where you remember something from years ago, and it could have been a very shitty day, but you desperately want to get back there again, just for a little bit.
Then again, a lot of things disappear because of neglect, or you've simply changed to much to experience that again. See, I'm no longer a child. I've been able to fool myself for quite some time, I could still return to  those moments of creating little worlds in a clump of moss, and being chosen because you're still young enough to understand. I sort of want to be a child again.
But - I know more, and differently now.. the new life I have is a good one. It's interesting. It's very different, but I wouldn't back away, if I could. Would I?
Also, I was recently asked - "how do you make friends so quickly?" I think.. -
The people I've met in the past few months.. most of them I trust now, at last a little. I have little prejudice, (or so it seems), and I think that exposing myself this freely pulls people towards me a bit. Maybe I'm being arrogant.
And, I have a reason to .. maybe, partially.. believe in something supernatural. It's curiosity, about the paranormal at that, but I'd almost regard it as a religion, it would finally be something not to doubt, something more or less stable in a world of deceit. The downside (there always is one somewhere) would be that it's fucking scary. And if I have proof, I wouldn't be able to convince myself that it's all in my head. Happily oblivious sounds quite charming, and safe, but then, I WANT TO KNOW. Would you? Would you change your life to know the truth? It's sounds cliche and melodramatic, yes, but, hey, when else am I going to get a chance to play around?

I don't want to lose this, you know. I really, really don't want to lose this. It's kind of annoying that as you grow up, more and more of what your elders have said makes sense. OH GOD,WE'RE BECOMING THEM, RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!!
Forgive my rambling.

Return

Well, hello. I know, I have to disappear for a while, maybe I do that too much, but can I make a blatantly obnoxious suggestion that that might be the natural flow of things?
Everything has changed again.. the people, the weather, the music, the feelings, the food. Of course, accompanied by a deliberate feeling of nostalgia. But, seriously, how can you not be mind-fucked by it?
Sample for you -

(FOE - "The Fox")

and another -

(CocoRosie - "Lemonade")

...there you go.

The heart wants what the heart wants, you know? What can I do? And it wasn't wrong, anyway.. it was for the best. .. ok?
I have learned another dance, of steps, and of life, and of the spirals in my mind. *sip of water*
Stop trying to hide your flaws. They'll stay until you reveal them, and then, the true faces will appear.

Pins and pencils. Fingertips. Cross your wrist, then ask for forgiveness.

And there it is.

The time. Has gone. I'm starting to understand the overly condescending parents.
I don't have much to say, it's all somewhere else, but I can give you another shit-pile of a poem, written somewhere around Portland, I believe.

pretty little thing she was
humming invitations
trapping creatures in the pain
of her fascination

tangled locks of pitch-black hair
pure grey were her eyes
her perfect ears had never once
heard the word "goodbye"

no one could resist her voice
try, and you will fail
but you might just make her smile
if yours was other than a wail

i had come in for a song
she asked for me to stay
enquired where my brother was
i said he'd gone away

although power was her own
i knew she had a heart
naíve enough was she to think
that love was more like art

her sorrow entered melodies
our voices came entwined
feeding hungry souls alike
the darkest, richest wine

even as she pulled me in
i thought i might escape
her fingers traced my trembling lips
t'was already too late.

Idonwannaleaaaave!

A whole frickin' month. It's not fair. I want to take all my friends with me, so I don't have to miss them. Damn, I miss them already.

(The Little Flames - "Isobella")

I can't walk away, either. I'm too sentimental. Can I cry now, please?

Poetry.

Now, I conflict with myself again. How do I learn from the world without being like it?

I give you an example - two different sides of myself:

This I do like, and it's not completely unoriginal, but it's nothing new for experienced minds.

For me. 

Give me a kiss, my love, 

Sending shivers down my spine,

Your arms around my waist.

Let me know you're forever mine. 

Pick me a leaf, my love,

Trace the veins with your fingers.

Then leave it to the wind

To keep it safe until it withers.

Tell me your dreams, my love,

And the meaning that they hold.

What corners of your mind

Do I have yet to explore?

Sing me a song, my love,

Close your eyes in that way of yours.

I'll drink the sound of your voice

And I'll always ask for more.

Now take my hand, my love,

Pull me down and hold me close.

Your love has become my drug,

So let me have my overdose.

And the ending was a tad out of place. Myah. 

Compare with this - 

The vain.

This is one of the caps that doesn't fit on the back of the pen. 

(How unusual.)

And yet, that is but a trivial matter since the important are questioning where? and when?

(I'm musical.)

You probably already noticed, as I was humming some subtle, yet intelligent and classy tune.

(The obvious.)

The cap is on the table, on the floor, the arm of the armchair, perhaps this nonsense will be art, soon?

(Aren't I devious?)

But no, I must not be less than tasteful, although my curves can't help but be more. 

(This isn't boring.)

And taste has no tolerance for melodrama, and only slight clichés, scrubbing breadcrumbs off the shore. 

(My mother is snoring.)

My mother? Oh, yes, of course - I love and respect and care for her, yet am independent and strong.

(*sniff* Not mule-headed.)

The money comes tinkling in, and is gone with the trickster colours, 

but what would sheep do without them? Baa along?

(I shall be wedded.)

If it is trendy at the time, naturally, you wouldn't expect anything less from me. 

(She preens.)

Signed, Jolene. 

Very experimental. Also to be taken rather seriously, and if you try, you can actually make sense of it. 

You see the predicament I'm in? (:

Passive

Man liekas, ka visi zin to sajūtu, kad uznāk tas pasīvias, tas īpatnējais, kad ļoti gribas izdarīt kaut ko radošu, bet viena vai vairāku (neviena) iemeslu dēļ tas nenotiek, un tu paliec tepat, pie datora, vai grāmatas, vai loga, ik pa laikam nopūšoties un jūtoties visnotaļ depresīvi.
Then come the rest of the thoughts - fuck it, I'm going to be an individual, no one can tell me what to do, etc... (What is the point??) Of what? I don't know. No one does.
Un tad tu skaties cilvēkos. Atmiņās. Gremdējies nostalģijā, ieskaidro sev, ka tas nav labi, ka tev ir jāceļas un jāsāk kaut kas darīt, tad gremdējies tālāk.
What have I done so far? What good is it all? (What is the point of existence?)
Tad tu pārbaudi, vai cilvēks vēl joprojām tur ir (tevi gaida?) un turpini klusēt.
Shivers run down your spine, agitating, but pleasant.
Tu pamani, ka neskan mūzika. Bet neieslēdz, jo tad pazustu moments, un tu negribi, lai ta pazūd, jo tā nav prieka sajūta, bet vilinošās skumjas..
You feel the world is ignoring you, but you're hiding from it, damn it, you fool.
Un vēl tu izdomā pasmaidīt. Tas vienmēr ir to vērts. Vai ne?
Un kas esi tu? In the end, who are you? Really?

Words in my head.

And they are there. Constantly. I've been told that I think too much, and, well, it's true. I do. I analyze the thoughts and sentence construction of others, trying to get into their head. How heartless of me, no? But it's endlessly fascinating. I don't think I really "know" a person until I can predict their train of thought to at least some extent. I have no idea what this says about me.

See, questions like "what was I thinking?" dominate so much of our lives, and it's so mundane, as is every deep truth. As hard as it is to find out what the real cause of whatever went right or wrong is, once we do, we have a right to feel pompously proud of ourselves for a moment. This kind of indulgence is candy for my brain.

I guess it's up to you to decide whether my desire to get into your head is a good motivation for a future psychologist or further proof of my insanity. 

It does not make sense!!!

It does not make sense! It doesn't make sense! It doesn't make sense in any comprehensible way! It does not make sense! It doesn't!! IT DOES NOT MAKE SENSE!! It does not make sense! Why? Why doesn't it make sense?? Why does it refuse to be understood?! It does not make sense! It does not make any sense at all!! Is there any more cruel way to agonize the minds of the confused? There shouldn't be such a thing, it has no right not to make sense in such a way!! It does not make sense! IT DOES NOT!! It does not make sense! It does not make sense! It does not make sense! It does not make sense! It does not make sense! It does not make sense! It does not make sense! It does not make sense! It does not make sense! It does not make sense! It does not make sense! It does not....

I am having way to much fun with this.

Can we all go crazy, please?

I'm actually kind of attracted to the idea of being insane.. And I do describe myself like that whenever the opportunity arises, because it's just so damn FUN. I mean, there are those days when you've got this little, yet very persistent ball of energy inside you and you're day is filled with random screams of exhilaration over nothing and general spazz. I don't feel very sane at those moments. This song gives me a feeling of something like that..

(Shiny Toy Guns - "Ricochet")

And GODDAMNIT I can't put the right video here . Way to ruin the effect. Blah.

There's this one person who keeps telling me to "Kill my darlings". Because I'm so sentimental and cannot let go of things. Or people, for that matter. I'm also told that this is a good way of attracting a lot of pain. Yay for nostalgia.  And during one of my rampages through all the stuff containing memories in my room, I realized how much I've changed over the past few years, and that I don't really like that person I was before. She's still me, and I do like me, but nyaahh.. "rather pathetic" is the phrase that comes to mind. Is this kind of thinking healthy? Again with the insanity.