Unrecognizeable

I used to have such a fascination for decay, but a great deal of that seems to have been lost in my frenzy of stress and apartments and having to keep things clean and organized.
It's sad, to see the bubbles fizz out of the lemonade. I do see what you mean, Kat.
Pain, pain, less gain than complete disaster - it's hard to tell if you should be grateful for the experience or furious about having become one of the countless broken beings. The word "broken" having a new meaning for me.
The music stopped, and left behind a buzzing silence, interspaced with occasional tapping, the closed door muffling the city outside.
Let's make lemonade again, world. Full of delightful bubbles. I suppose it would be more sophisticated lemonade, perhaps pink lemonade, a sort of a metaphor for joyful lacy intercourse.
Boots. Boots is a good start, I suppose.

Malaguena

a late night disruption, most welcome

titties and cream

I know now, for certain, that I have lost several different parts of myself, many of which I valued a whole fudging lot. But, like my hair, I think I had to lose them to appreciate them properly. It's going to take a lot of work to get my lost values back, and a lot of time to grow my hair back, but when I do, I'll know that I deserve them.

I have some significant additions to my personality, but I do feel that a couple of them (at least), are destructive. I've been shaken by life, but the essence of healing is always beautiful.
There is a haze I need to get into. Also out of. What



Lost and broken toys - tiny, desecrated envoys.

I had this dream as a kid, a recurring nightmare - there’s a line that I have to keep straight at all costs, but it always got jagged at one point, like the line of a heartbeat. Then someone would scream “I’m the king of the world!!", like some grand, yet terrible finale, and that’s pretty much it. The worst thing is, all throughout the dream there was this feeling of suppressed anger. Not my anger, just terrible, terrible rage, like someone’s going to go apeshit any moment now. 

I’m not sure how many times I had this dream, but I’m pretty sure it was mostly in my childhood. But here’s the twist: that feeling of suppressed anger comes over me once in a while. Sometimes it lasts around 10 minutes, sometimes more than that. Sometimes I almost think I hear voices in my head, although that might be just in the recent episodes. 

Whenever that happens, whatever anyone says to me sounds angry, like they’re only barely, barely suppressing it, same goes for music, almost any sound, really. It’s mostly unprovoked, the only thing I’ve noticed that if I’m in front of the computer when it happens, staying there makes it worse, I have to get away from the screen for it to go away.

These “episodes" have happened a bit more often lately, and I’m just wondering what it means and what I can do about it. I’d appreciate any feedback anyone has to give. Thanks.

end of the rainbow

There is this thought I had about people wanting to commit suicide. See, YouTube is spotlighting a whole gay support thing, and Pixar Studios has contributed with an “It gets better" video. The gays of their community spilled their hearts out, and several of them shared their near suicidal experiences and suicidal thoughts they’d had in the past. One phrase that got me was “I would’ve missed so much." I think that that one phrase has something that fails to occur to so fucking many unhappy people out there. A decision to commit suicide happens in a certain stage of a person’s life (this stage differs for everyone, and some don’t have it, (just to avoid misunderstandings)). Logically, whatever stage of life we’re in, we still have something to learn. Any decision is made in some state of mind, and every mind changes incessantly. So no decision is absolute. One must remember that they are capable of change, and to quit now would be missing out on an unfathomable range of experiences, good and bad. And here I could end with the key phrase of the support campaign - “It gets better."

(I apologize for the punny title, but I honestly couldn’t help myself.)

two nights

..since I moved in on Alberta iela. Even this early, it's surprisingly easy to make it feel like home. Not as a reflection of what was home previously, but my own home. I had a breakfast of cereal and raspberry yoghurt, and this I bought myself, yesterday, on trip of many to come. A combination of adulthood chores and youthful excitement of tasting independency.
I haven't had the easiest time falling or remaining asleep. That should change, as I change the colours of the walls and the aura of my surroundings, and also as inner problems and wounds fade away. A place of starting anew, like it usually happens, only with a whole new way to do it.
I haven't been in my old room since I moved out, and I'm expecting the encounter to be rather saddening. It's a lovely room, it really is, and now I've left it sort of broken. Child-like drama, if you will. Storybook stuff, only all too real. I'll probably end up taking all my dolls here.
Since I'm up so high, all the things going on in the sky seem more relevant. It's raining, now. Right above me, it's very comforting.

this is amazing

(Metric - "Grow Up And Blow Away")

yes, Kat.
and battalions of salivating kittens sounds so nice I thought I'd put it here, too

more of me

http://amdusciane.tumblr.com

Inky clouds and pain

song to thank the stars, amber rubarth
daughter, youth
the ones that jerked tears from my eyes today
the ones that severed my control of the sphere-of-what-I-don't-want-to-believe-it-hurts

what a day

(Muse - "The Groove")

Something something

garned

Birdies

it was an unusually pleasant monday

Home

I miss my homeland. I do mean Sweden. Although by now I've become much more familiar with Latvia and her ways, there are some things from my childhood that just cannot be replaced. The language, even though I haven't forgotten it, hasn't really gotten any decent training with the exception of a book now and then, and visits from my dear relatives. And the personality of Sweden's culture is obviously nowhere to be truly found in any other country. I will want to return before long, so I suppose I'll have to make it work by visiting to and fro. Ma wee little 'eart breaks when I'm reminded of something from the early days, and other signs have been pointing towards reclaiming that part of myself. So I guess I'll just have to reintroduce Em to Em, and see what happens.

"..och det ska vara falukorv av allra bästa slag!
Ja, den ska vara himla god och flera meter lång, 
och föras sen till Bullerbyn med munter lek och sång."