Isn't it ironic?

Just when I've been thinking a lot about drinking and let's face it, drinking more than I have in a long while but not so much that it's a problem (no getting drunk on weekdays, no blackouts, still money in the bank, not missing anything because of being drunk or having a hangover, no midnight crying sessions) it's then that I have to deal with someone else drinking too much. It takes a lot of...

It's so sad that its funny. Every time I start to feel blue something happens and kicks me in the face and I have to deal with that and while doing so I forget what was I down for in the first place. Getting some real problems helps to forget that I am just bored. It's the "stop crying or I'll give you something to cry about" way of life.

But tonight... I'll dance with the devil on a saturday night...

Don't forget to catch me.

The queen supreme of all dumb ideas

but I am not telling what it is... Because there's a good chance I will not do it, so there's no reason for others to know what I think of doing. Annoying, I know. But I am writing this because just seeing these words help me, maybe this will get it out of my head.

I've been having this feeling for a while now that I need to act out a bit, let out some steam. And last night it came to me in a dream, I was overcome with stupid fantasies about what to do. Sometimes I just get totally bored with myself and everything and then doing something not reasonable at all helps. Well, it doesn't actually help, but it clears my anxiety. Or atleast makes me anxious about something real, in a "ohmysweetjesusonapogostickwhydidIdothatfor" way. It is not a question of doing anything harmful, atleast harmful to anyone else besides my poor heart and soul, just letting go of control for a while. Sometimes it involves other people, sometimes just me hopping on a boat to Tallinn. It's a form of walking away, moving on, even when it seems like going backwards, doing something I haven't done in years. Letting things go by living them again? Maybe that too.

And then something completely else... People who annoy me: gays who attend everything in Pride events except the parade because someone might see them in the news and figure out they're gay. That's real pride of yourself you got there.

I'm not saying I don't understand that some people have difficulties being out in their workplaces or to their family etc. and everyone has the right to live just as out they choose. But you know the type, flaming gay or the bulldyke of the town, except if there's a chance someone straight sees it.

(I just met someone like this so that's why the rant.)

Remembering again

KORVAAMATON (Lautala)

Kaikki kurkkuun kumotut määrät
eivät tuo kai sinua takaisin
ne puuduttaa tunteeni hetkeksi
ja saavat kai jaksamaan eteenpäin
Joo, sä tiedät kyllä ketä mä huijaan
jos sanoisin että: "kaikki on okei"
se kaikki on vain hetken huumaa,
joka korvaa hetkeksi menetyksen
Kuka korvaa poistetun sydämen?
Mikä korvaa, jos sä poistat mun sydämen?

Älä sano mulle, että se on korviketta
mä tiedän sen taas kun aamu valkenee
ja paljastaa kalpeat kasvot ja päässä,
pääsee helvetti valloilleen
Kuka korvaa poistetun sydämen?
Mikä korvaa, jos sä poistat mun sydämen?


The boy who wrote that song was a friend of a friend some ten years ago. One night I was waiting for the last bus late at night and he comes up to me with his friend and asks me to go to a bar with them. I'm tired and say no, so they leave. Ten minutes later he comes back, gives me a thick black pen (the kind you use to write your name on the walls and signposts and the back of the seats in a bus...) and says that if someone comes and tries to do something nasty to me I should poke them in the eye with the pen. And leaves again. I stand there, laughing, until the bus comes. I think that was a sweet thing to do. Weird and a bit twisted, but sweet.

That little story has nothing to do with the following:

Years later he wrote that song and it felt really familiar to me. The lyrics are simple and there's nothing much to them except... Something in them always hits home, even if the reason for my drinking days never was a broken heart. And besides, there's always a reason to hit the bottle, if the need is there.

Now I just feel like having an ice cold coke with crushed ice, no lemon. Hold the vodka.

Missing someone

I've been reading Antonella Gambotto's book The Eclipse: A Memoir Of Suicide. Strangely positive book, even if it's not written in a positive way. It is about hating yourself, and about sadness and depression, and of losing control, about pain, sorrow, of being tired. And still, somewhere under all that it is encouraging. And not in the go kill yourself today way...

But what it made me think is this: how to deal with the fact that someone is gone and you can never ever touch them again, no longer kiss them, hold their hand, trace your fingers over their lips. I was reading that book and suddenly I was overcome with terrible grief. I had a friend years ago who died in an accident. We were friends and then we were some kind of lovers for a while and later stayed as friends. Before he died I hadn't seen him for a while, the last time we met was briefly in a store, we chatted about idle things and talked about going for a beer sometime soon. Next, I open a newspaper on my luncbreak and there is his name. Now it has been a few years and I sometimes think of him, remember how we met and how fun it was to be around him.

But now I suddenly missed touching him. I missed the feeling of his skin, his hair, everything. I don't miss any of my ex-anythings like that because there is a theoritical chance to touch them again. They are alive, they are around and even though obviously they are not available in physical sense anymore to me they are not impossible. Most of them would atleast agree to hug me. But him, he is out of my reach forever. If I could have a choice between talking to him for one last time or kissing him, I'd go for the kiss.

Skin remembers. A gentle touch can tell about love more than hundred words.

Things not to do

when my mimosaskin is itching like crazy:

-take a shower
-wash the dishes
-eat an orange
-go outside
-rest my hand casually on my leg if I'm wearing jeans
-go near brick walls
-touch my shaved head
-have a normal life

I hate my skin. I really really hate it sometimes. I hate my stupid sensitive easily infecting skin. I hate my weird stigmata hand. I hate my fingers I can't use properly because they are swollen or the skin has dried so badly it just cracks open. I hate not being able to touch things without causing damage. I hate wearing stupid gloves all the time. I hate taking pills to stop from itching so I could sleep. I hate always having to carry creams and lotions with me. I hate taking antibiotics five times a year. I hate complaining about them.

Breathe

I'm alright I'm alright
It only hurts when I breathe
And I can't ask for things to be still again
No I can't ask if I could walk through the world
In your eyes

Ryan Jordan