future

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

*

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

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

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

The world looks a lot like this these days..

I can do this

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

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

ugh

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

Saulkrasti!

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

People, people, people

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

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

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

..?..

. ..::o ; o::.. .

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

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

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

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

Forget this ever happened.

1st of October

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

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

eighteen

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

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

I am indecisive.

(NOOO! Really??)

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

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

many dots

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

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

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

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

I must return

to freedom!!

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

o.o

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