Just wondering

sooo... I was talking with a friend today about my trip to Tallinn in a few days and I told her I was going by myself. She said "oww". I really didn't think much of it before but then I started to wonder... I didn't ask anybody to come with me, I wanted to go by myself, I thought I could get some distance to some of the stuff going on here, I thought I could have a quiet few days. And then it occurred to me does it seem somehow sad that I'm going alone? One of those things you know that hell no, why in the world wouldn't you go by yourself, enjoy the time alone? And still, the small part of you that started to whisper "see, you have no one". (friends don't count at this point)

Lainatakseni toista ystävää, on ollut viime aikoina sinisiä fiiliksiä.

Fuck it, sometimes it's hard to deal with the not having "we" things, only "me" things. Sometimes I'm scared I'll stop missing altogether sharing things, sharing my life, that I truly only start missing just the physical stuff. That I can get. But that's not all I want to get.

Stupid people

Sometimes I wish I could just get a divorce from the human race. Especially from women and really, from dykes... Yesterday I witnessed so much small-minded stupidity that I hardly can believe. Unfortunately I have to because I saw it and partly was in the middle of it.

One woman decided that being hateful towards transgendered people was a good way to spend a night in the bar. To cut a long story short the bitch finally got thrown out by the bouncers, or carried out kicking and screaming. She was yelling that she's going to call the police and sue us but how surprisingly, the police never showed up... Maybe it was a lucky thing I was working there (and tried to calm down the situation but noooo) because if I would have been sitting there at the table with my friends who were being harassed I probably would have lost it and gotten myself thrown out of the bar too...

I'm still angry as hell.

People have such small worlds inside their heads, such amounts of fear and ignorance and plain stupidity.

Sad

I've been awfully busy this week and when I'm busy I get tired and when I get tired I get sad. It's weird kind of sad, it's not sadness about anything particular, not over anything special. It's just being sad.

Lately I've been feeling like I'm losing something, letting go, or being let go. Like in that Melissa song... But I can't figure out of what it is I'm letting go. What's moving away from me? More and more I feel like I'm drifting away. That I make all the necessary moves, dance to the song I'm expected to, but without any real meaning. That my heart is somewhere else.

But where is my heart then?

Fuck, I read my own words and feel like I'm being a huge dramaqueen. It's just not sleeping properly for a while. That's all.

More poetry (not mine)

(I am not sure at all
if love is salve
or just
a deeper kind of wound.
I do not think it matters.)

If it was lust or hunger
& not love,
if it was all that they accused us of
(that we accused ourselves) -
I do not think it matters.

Erica Jong


Sometimes I miss lusting someone more than I miss loving someone. I miss the feeling of making decisions with my cunt instead of my brains, or even my heart. Of doing something (or someone...) just because of desire. I miss pure wanting. I miss the connection of bodies more than the connection of souls.

Love lasts longer than lust and I don't believe that lesbian bed death happens every time, but let's face it, the intense desire fades and changes. That's the way it goes.

Too bad I'm so goddamn picky. I find very few people attractive.

What comes to ex-boy/girl/whatever/friends and such sometimes it's hard to remember why I found them physically attractive. Usually it's easy to remember the other reasons why those relationships are over. When the lust is over and the love, if there was any, sometimes I just look at those people and wonder "how on earth I wanted to fuck her?". Then there are the moments when I see some ex of mine and I remember why, I see something that reminds me. Maybe it's a way to walk, maybe it's a smile, maybe a look in their eyes, maybe lighting a cigarette in a certain way... Small, weird things. But those moments make me miss feeling desire. And miss the feeling of being desired.

It's easy to guess where these thoughts came from. Friday I saw briefly a woman I had a one-night stand with years ago and I tell you, her smile... Still, again, made my knees go weak.

People

who should not use public transport: people who smell. People who sit their legs wide open (guys, that's just wishful thinking). People who cough and sneeze. On you. People who can't sit still for 5 seconds. People who think the tram/bus will go faster if they lean forward. People who read poetry out loud. Especially if it's their own.

Rip off

I'm going to shamelessly borrow from someone else again. And I will even butcher it with rough translation... Sorry, Annamari Marttinen.

"It's easy to forget someone. Of course, she'll come to mind occasionally, just like a memory, just like any other memory. There can't be any memory that wouldn't sometimes come back, even if you don't want it to. With some memories you stop and wonder, wait, was I really there? Was it really me?"

I read that bit today and instantly knew what it meant. Sometimes something just hits you, you really get it. That is an idea I've been trying to grasp myself. That there are things that you know happened to you, you were there, you did this and that and still... It feels like some parts of your life never really happened to you, that it was just something you read, or saw in a movie, something that was told to you that happened. Parts of your life just drift away, become distant and leave you wondering, did I just imagine that..?

My "was I really there moment"? Tempted to say I can't remember any... (ohmygod I have bad sense of humour). A park in Prague, on my first trip there. Worn out hotel room in Tallinn. Cocktailbar in Budapest. Drinking margaritas in Luxembourg. And a hundred more...

Tired thoughts

a couple of bottles of wine last night means I am not thinking straight today. Well, I never think straight. Haha.

I am so funny it kills me.

I am at loss with words. I don't know what I feel. How screwed up is that? There's a small part of me that is really happy, still glowing from yesterday's party, enjoying the memory of music flowing through me, of having a good dancepartner. Then there's the part that's unhappy, lonely and tired. And then the biggest part that feels nothing at all.

I should start asking people what they feel. Maybe this is the way most of the people feel like. Nothing at all. Or is it just me? Or is it just not sleeping properly for a long time?

Close your eyes

Sometimes it's hard to find the strenght to smile, when everything is okay, not great but not bad. When things just are.

I know feelings like this shall pass, they always do. Feeling like all my emotions have been drawn out of me will go away. By tomorrow, I believe. After some sleep, after some dreams.

When I was really depressed I used to pretend awfully well. I would "put my face on", like clothing, whenever I left my home. I would take a deep breath, look into the mirror and remind myself what to do when smiling. I got tremendously good at it. I don't think that everyone I knew then ever saw that I was just a zombie. I pretended to be me, what was expected of me. That when I learned how easily people can be misinformed. If I'm smiling it don't necessarily mean a thing. I learned people really don't look at you. I've tried since then to look at people, really look at. See behind what's obviously there. That can be just a lie.

Why I didn't let everyone know I was hurting then? Pride? Stupidity? Fear?

I think a big part of it was fear. I feared people would leave me if I stopped being like they'd always known me to be. So I never gave them the chance to prove me wrong. That's unfair. Maybe they could have loved me through the bad times too and not just drift away with time passing.

I hope I've learned my lesson, if it ever comes to that again.

I'll close my eyes now.

Hmph

joskus jokin sana voi ärsyttää suunnattomasti. Tänään se oli "tassutella". Juuri lukemassani kirjassa sitä käytettiin neljässä eri kohdassa (joo, vähän pikkuseikkoihin takertumista) ja vain yksi niistä oli jotenkin sopiva. Mutta ainakaan mainostoimiston johtava copy, jota on kuvailtu teräväksi liikenaiseksi joka pukeutuu huipputyylikkäästi, ei jumaliste tassuttele ympäri toimistoa! Korkokengissä!

Pikkumaisuus kunniaan.

Ja jos tästä asiasta jaksaa nostaa itsessään kierroksia niin on parempi mennä nukkumaan. On ollut hyvin pitkä päivä.

I want to sleep

I was reading a book today (surprisingly, like I wouldn't read every day atleast a page or two) and there was a mention of dementia. It had nothing to do with the book, really, just a side comment. But it got me thinking that if I would lose my memories what would be the last one I'd hope to hold on to as long as possible? And what would be the first one I'd gladly give up?

What's the most painful memory I have? That's impossible to say. I have a few terrible ones, involving death and pain, losing friends I loved. There are memories of days when it felt like there's shards of glass in my head. Memories of days when I wanted to peel my skin off, of hating myself so and not even having the energy to get up and get it over with. There is a memory of giving back the keys to the apartment I shared with someone I loved for years, of walking away.

Damn. I'm getting all emotional.

Good memories then. First kisses with people I've cared for. Dancing with Tiki. Feeling secure with someone. Sunny gardens. Airports. Prague. Waking up and feeling content. The days when I knew and believed totally that I will be okay. Walking away.

More music

And in "I" we find...

Iggy Pop and the passenger. This one also brings back a whole sea of memories. My favourite bar when I started to really hang out in bars was a place called Torvi. (Painepesurikaan ei olisi puhdistanut niitä lattioita, korkeintaan bensa ja tulitikku perään...) It was a dreadful bar, a rock and roll bar, with a doorman who greeted me for the first time after about three years hanging there regularly. It was filled with wanna-be rockstars who never got their break (some did, though), darkhaired gothchicks and all the ones that didn't fit in. Once in a while a middle-aged man in a suit would wander in and look around bewildered before quickly backing out. Next door was a stripteasebar.

I had such a great time there. Countless evenings dancing to Iggy Pop and The Doors and Jimi and Janis and hardcore metal played so loud talking was definetely out of the question. I had a thing ("had"? I still do) for guitarplayers and that was the place to meet them, the bad boys, the stoners, the ones I could easily use. That's one thing people rarely get, they don't think women use men like men are thought to use women. I'm not saying that I never cared for any of those
men or I didn't get my heart broken a couple of times, I did. And I truly liked all of them. I didn't want them to call me later, I didn't want a relationship, I didn't want drama. So what did I end up with? Hell of a lot of memories of good times.

And funny incidents: one time I was chatting with my ex-boyfriend and his two mates and suddenly he says, "do you know we've all been with the same girl, including Hale?" The looks in their faces... Oh man... And the silence that followed... It was pretty well known that I'm queer as hell by that time but it wasn't clear to everyone, obviously... But the girl in question? Her I loved madly then. Still love her in a way. Probably always will.

Love's strange like that. Sometimes it doesn't go away even if you no longer have no idea where the one you loved is or any real desire to even know it. To me it's enough to know she's alive and out there somewhere, happy, hopefully.

Lopetetaan tämä lainauksella Jonna Tervomaalta: "mä tulin liian myöhään kai, tai aikaisin"

Interesting...

the reason for my dressing up today was that I was selling tickets at the local gaybar, every saturday there's a women's party. Theme was halloween so in addition to my dress etc I was also wearing a scarf in my head, a muslim scarf. One of those that only let's people see your eyes, covers you completely from shoulders up. I'm not masquerade kind of person so I thought this would be good enough.

Interesting part was the way people reacted. And that not all of my friends knew it was me. That is weird. Maybe it says something about how rarely people look into each others eyes, because all of the women who immediately knew me said thet it was my eyes they knew. Not my fantastic legs or breasts ;) or my posture but my eyes.

Women also tended to think that I can't hear them. More often than not they spoke of me to their friends or to Toni who was selling tickets with me. Couple of times I said to them that you know, I hear you just fine and they kind of looked surprised. Besides this, later when I was just hanging out with some friends, people would talk around me and ignore me, not even look at. Like I vanished just because my face could not be seen.

That was so strange. I really can't even begin to wonder what it's like really wear the veil and dress accordingly but maybe a tiny glimpse.

The moral of the story. Look into people's eyes. All you need is there.

Feeling like a transvestite

which I probably am. But that's besides the point.

It's difficult to describe how I see myself. Definetely as a woman if it has to be said. I'm me, I'm Hale, that's my gender. I flow. I'm not butch, I'm not femme, not even when I'm wearing 7 inch heels and such short skirt it's best described as a belt. I'm not a man. I don't want to be a man. But I really can't connect to women, as a gender, either.

So because I just slipped into a seethrough dress, stockings, high heels, long gloves and all, I feel like I just dressed up as a woman. That's what I call it, anyway. Sometimes I play girl. It's just that. I pretend to be something else. I like it, it's fun, it's cool and sometimes I play out my fantasies through it (obviously the fantasies are about a stonebutch having her way with me, or if I'm in a more queer enviroment, me having my way with her;)

And besides, wearing a dress makes my shaved head look even better.

Forever not yours

I bet you think this is going to be one of those whiny "oh I'm so lonely" posts. Hah, nope.

I'm going through my playlist on my computer and keep finding weird songs here. Like A-ha's forever not yours. A-ha used to be a band I simply adored when I was a pre-teen and in some way it stuck with me. They've made nothing but crap since Take on me (ahem) but still... I think everyone has those songs from years ago that just make you feel nostalgic. Or some bands that always remind you of the time you were fifteen, it doesn't even matter if they keep making new music, it's always the band you recorded to a tape from a radio. Now there's something for the kids of today with their mp3:s and stuff. Cassettes filled with mixed music and the awful dj's from your local radio.

And moving on...

Alice Cooper. That's one sick dude.

Cover versions... One of the most hideous ones is All Saints doing RHCP's Under the bridge. I mean girls, seriously..? But I love that version, almost more than the original one. It has a simple explanation: when I was in London years ago, in a dykebar called Ace of Clubs the most handsome butch I've ever laid my eyes on asked me to dance to that particular song. She was so amazing, such a gentleman, such beauty... Hot as hell, I tell you. After that, butches have always been the ones to get my attention. And that song reminds me of her, puts a smile on my face every time.

Anna Eriksson. Eihän siitä mihinkään pääse että onhan Anna aika viehko... Ja näissä iskelmissä on jotain mikä vetoaa siihen mun dramaattiseen puoleen (hei, meissä kaikissa on se), siihen joka uskoo että joskus jonkun kohtaa läpi savuisen huoneen. Kun katsoit minuun... Tässäkin kappaleessa on se, että on joku josta tämä muistuttaa. Tämäkin. Onko mulla musiikkia joka ei muistuttaisi jostakin, hyvässä ja pahassa? Tarvitseeko olla? Jos musiikki auttaa muistamaan niin mitäpä sitten.

I think it's time to light the candles and really start listening. And remembering.