A thought from yesterday and Placebo

I had a brief discussion about pain, especially inflicting pain, with Stephanie last night. I kept thinking about it and then at home I was listening to music and Placebo's Every me and every you started playing. Some parts really got my attention. So here's those parts, I butchered the lyrics somewhat, took out the parts that didn't hit home. Why they did so, I'll keep that to myself. Besides the obvious reasons ...

"My heart's a tart, your body's rent
My body's broken, yours is bent.
Carve your name into my arm,
Instead of stressed, I lie here charmed,
Cuz there's nothing else to do,
Every me and every you.

Another love I would abuse,
No circumstances could excuse,
In the shape of things to come,
Too much poison come undone.
There's never been so much at stake,
I serve my head up on a plate,
It's only comfort, calling late,
Cuz there's nothing else to do,
Every me and every you.

Like the naked leads the blind,
I know I'm selfish, I'm unkind.
Sucker love I always find,
Someone to bruise and leave behind,
All alone in space and time.
There's nothing here but what here's mine.
Something borrowed, something blue.
Every me and every you."

Once upon a time...

another little princess was born to bring awe into our lives...

Still happyhappyjoyjoy

Obviously I think about death when I'm surrounded by birth.

I think about who will be there to carry me when I'm dead. I want to be cremated but I think there is something beautiful in carrying the coffin, so my friends, I want you to do that, before the big party... I still feel sorry that I didn't do that favor to my grandpa when I had that chance. I once read that everyone should have atleast six loved ones in their life. It takes six to carry a coffin.

I am happy to know that I have more than that.

About family...

I might never have a family of my own but today my godchild was born, the daughter of my dearest friend. That's family to me.

Torgrim Eggen...

"Hän kuulosteli sydäntään, tai missä sisäelimessä tuntemukset nyt sijaitsevatkin, ja kaiken muun saastan keskellä asusti pienen pieni joo."

Emotional kick in the groin

I think there should be a law or something that people you've fancied big time should later turn ugly. And NOT look hotter than ever. That is just plain wrong.

I saw this girl from my past yesterday, chatted with her for a while (oh, you just got engaged, how nice!) and then felt like it would be a good idea to drink myself into oblivion. But I do have some sense in my head and I didn't (because I didn't want to ruin tonights Zen Cafe gig). Damn it felt weird seeing her. It's not like I'd think there could be anything anymore, or that there ever really was a real chance for that. I just liked her so much back then and it did hurt quite much when she said I am not the right one for her. It was true, but still I did wish for it not to be so then. Those of you who know me better understand what she meant for me, you can see that in my left arm, probably always will. One of my Queen Supreme ideas, that one... Around that time she was one of the most attractive women I'd ever met. Sadly for me, still is.

I just hope seeing her would stop making me go weak.

Writers block

Once again I have trouble finding words. I can't get the words out, not anything that would describe the way I feel right now. Confused and happy and sad and bored and tired and alive and empty. See, not very clear...

But two things: first of all, I got a permanent job now, or atleast so permanent than a job can be. I was offered a new contract on friday and I did take it, even though I felt before I probably would not. But it was a good offer and I can always ditch the job with two weeks notice so not bad. So this means I can really start planning maybe buying my own apartment, getting a home of my own (well, it would be the property of bank for a really long time but anyway). Makes planning my life a lot easier.

Second, I finally got a message from an old friend of mine I had worried about for a few months. He's not the happiest person in the world and not hearing from him for a while made me anxious. But now I know he's okay, or atleast alive and all that. Huge weight off my chest, I can breathe a little bit easier. And not be so cranky.

I've been listening to Stella's song Piste repeatedly for the last few days. It helps me. With what? Accepting. Here's the lyrics:


"Kun puhalletaan tulta tähän sammuvaan hiileen
Se savullansa meitä tukehduttaa
Ja jos vain muistellaan jäädään kiinni ikuisuuteen
Eikä eletä ollenkaan
Kaikki tämä vähäkin vain tuhotaan
Rohkeempaa on luovuttaa

Kyllä sinä muistat kuinka katse viiltelee
Kyllä sinä tiedät miten lehdet putoilee
Kaikki on jo nähty siksi pisteen nyt teen
Anna jo olla
Anna mun olla ja unohtaa

Kun nyt jutellaan voidaan hyvin katsoa silmiin
On nähty nämä seinät ennenkin
Mutta ei saa koskettaa, ne aamut meidät imee vain kuiviin
Ei tästä tule näin valmiimpaa
Ehkä on jo aika irrottaa
Kai saa nyt luovuttaa…?

Kyllä sinä muistat kuinka katse viiltelee
Kyllä sinä tiedät miten lehdet putoilee
Kaikki on jo nähty siksi pisteen nyt teen
Anna jo olla
Anna mun olla ja unohtaa

Kyllä minä tiedän kuinka kehomme kietoutuu
Kyllä minä muistan kelle ihosi tuoksuu
Jos tulevatkin vuodet käsiimme vain rikkoutuu
En jaksaisi olla
Anna mun olla ja unohtaa… "

Sundayblues..

Going to sleep at five am on a sunday morning really fucks up the whole day. I woke up around one, watched tv, grabbed something to eat and then it's time to go to bed again, or actually is way too late and I should be sleeping already but can't, because I woke up so late after sleeping too little...

I did go see Capote today and it was a good movie, although a bit unnerving. But it made me glad not to be a writer or artist of any kind. Maybe I would be the kind of person he was and go way too far for the sake of getting a story. If it went anything like it was pictured in the movie, maybe it was right that he never could finish anything else after writing about those murders.

"It's as if Perry and I grew up in the same house. And one day he went out the back door and I went out the front."

Stealing again from someone else

Everything is so messed up in my head I can't even begin to write it down, yet.

But this joke I want to share with you:

"British Airways passenger cabin was being served by an obviously gay flightattendant, who seemed to put everyone into a good mood as he served them food and drinks. As the plane prepared to descend, he came swishing down the aisle and announced to the passengers,

"Captain Marvey has asked me to announce that he'll be landing the big scary plane shortly, lovely people, so if you could just put up your trays, that would be super."

On his trip back up the aisle, he noticed that a well-dressed rather exotic looking woman hadn't moved a muscle.

"Perhaps you didn't hear me over those big brute engines." he said, "I asked you to raise your trazy-poo so the main man can pitty-pat us on the ground."

She calmly turned her head and said, "In my country, I am called a Princess. I take orders from no one."

To which the flight attendant replied, without missing a beat, "Well, sweet-cheeks, in my country I'm called a Queen, so I outrank you. Tray-up, bitch."


I thought this was hilarious, I can just picture it... And being the Queen Supreme of all dumb ideas, well... And still bored at work.

Unreal

sometimes everything seems a bit unreal, a bit surrealistic. I go through the usual routines of my life, go to work, see some friends after that, or maybe go over to Seta for some thing or another, go see a movie, go have a beer. Sometimes it's like watching all this from outside, in my head I'm somewhere else. I'm watching myself having a life, not actually living it. Maybe it's a sign I should slow down so I could actually be in the moment.

And Tii, I am sooo bored at work.

Old letters and things I have forgot

I'm at my parents house and went browsing my old stuff, boxes and boxes of it. There were tons of old letters, pictures, paper clippings... I took some of the boxes to take home so I could go through them properly. Most of it I will burn (as soon as I find someone who has a fireplace) but some of it I will save. Like postcards from Tallinn from the year -96, signed by Jeffe, Laffe and Miffe, also known as the Trio Oralevato... Sorry, you just had to be there to understand that... It made me smile, big time.

It's fun to remember old jokes and stupid little nicknames people had (and is there someone who thought Hale is the name I was born with?) and trips we took and bright ideas we had while being away, or at home... I doubt I will find any love letters, on account never receiving many of those... Cold bitch that I am ;)

And I did check for old toys I could give to my godchild who will be born at the end of next month, if that little rascal isn't too keen and borns before due time. I doubt I will have children of my own and my brother, well, he'll have them eventually but there were plenty of our toys to go around so I think it's okay I took some. And I even found something for my dollhouse! A tiny wooden bucket, for sawed off legs and such...

Funniest thing I found was a little box filled with mementos from people I can' even remember! I have absolutely no memory of who the hell they were! But, apparently, I've had huge crushes on them. The girls I could remember but those boys... But still, atleast I've had people I've felt for. And that's good.

Little something that made me smile...

Q: What do agnostic, insomniac dyslexics do at night?
A: Stay awake and wonder if there's a dog.

Happy

Sometimes there are pure moments of being completely happy. They do not last for long but it is sweet. When everything inside is calm and quiet. And at the same time it's million fireworks exploding in you at the same time.

I had one of those moments yesterday. Nothing hurts for a while.

Whatthehell?!?

So yesterday I was going over to a party with my friend, and we were walking somewhere around Myllypuro with my mate, trying to find the right street. We pass an empty building, clearly under some construction. There's a sound of the firealarm shrilling like crazy, coming from the house. No smoke or flames in sight, just the alarm. We stand there for a few minutes considering should we call it in or what, mainly the problem being that we have no idea what street it is. After some time we see someone and ask what street it is and I call to the emergency number.

"you have called to the emergency center, please hold on until we can answer your call, do not hang up"

Christallmighty! That is just plain wrong! You should not be put on hold when you call that number! Atleast they didn't have any music playing while waiting for someone to answer...

This time I was just calling to report that there might be a problem and that someone should check on it, if not for any other reason but because the sound of the alarm must be annoying to people living near. But what if there would have been something really dreadful, like someone being stabbed or something? Okay, I was on hold for 15 seconds, but still...

And to otherwise sum up my weekend, well, let's say that it was entertaining and sometimes I don't care if people laught at me and not with me ;) The main point being that people laugh and that is good. Atleast I laughed a lot this weekend. None of the jokes were good.

Weddings and so on

Friday one of the greatest friends I've ever had got married. I have no sisters but she is like that to me, someone I just wouldn't be able to cut off my life if I ever wanted to because you can't cut off family completely... And someone being family has nothing much to do with sharing genes or bloodline. Family is family.

Which brings me to the other thing that happened last weekend, my friend I've known almost fifteen years now had his firstborn son christened. Or being somewhat pagan they had a party where the name was revealed. Besides him his mother was the only person I had ever met before but I had a great time. Sometimes it's good to be somewhere else with people who don't know you. And it was great to see his mother, last time we saw was almost ten years ago.

All this didn't even make me sad like I expected. At the moment I am in that content phase, where I don't feel like I'm missing out on something by being alone. Next week or tomorrow things might be different. I don't care. Just now I am okay. That's good enough.

I'll choose evil

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.