:
It.feels.like.bliss. exactly, it's such a euphoric feeling - to sit here and drink wine and smoke (should stop, will tell you why later) and listen to some classic pop. i could stay like this. just like this, today and forever and ever.
I bought a flower today and put it on the windowsill. I think it looks beautiful. I've wanted to have a plant in here for a long time. I thought i would buy it when i get the 'promotion' at my job, but when i got it i didn't feel glad at all, so i let it be.. and now, today, finally at long last it felt like a perfect day to buy this flower. i had a black dress and i had curls in my hair and colleague I. said i looked beautiful. and, well, i did feel beautiful. cute and girlish and pretty. it must be the curls, i think.
since i'm tipsy enough and i feel more than i can accomplish in expressing what i feel, i though i might just as well post something that i wrote earlier. a month and a half ago, when it was still snowing and when i still hoped for us to grow.
05/03
I almost jumped on the Riga-Vilnius bus. Except that it was about to leave at 18:45, and it was 18:35. And i put my hat and my scarf and my gloves on, and then this stupid coat with the broken zipper. do you remember? most probably not. and just like then, at Sapnju fabrika after Goran Gora concert almost a year ago, it just broke down. a fucking zipper. and i was almost ready to leave, and this stupid zipper just wouldn't work, and i just stayed there and counted down the minutes: 38, 39, 40.. and only five minutes left, and of course it became clear that i wouldn't go anywhere, and of course i had to persuade myself that it somehow was not meant to be, not meant to happen. not now, not today. perhaps some other time. but it just felt wrong. terribly and stupidly wrong. and of course there was an airbaltic flight at 23:30 but it just didn't feel right. and then i thought, what are those feelings anyway? should we rely on them? are they any more than flickers of self-deceptions? and the answer is.. just because i'm drunk and gibberish.. the answer is NO. in vino veritas or whatever. because tonight i wouldn't want to be anywhere else but with you. no agenda, no purpose. just being with you, there and then. wherever you are. just to hold you. just to see you. to feel you. your arms, your skin, your look, your eyes, your voice, your everything. the thing is - you don't even have to fuck me. you're stupid to say that i love your cock. yes it's true and yet it's so far far from the truth. because what i love is so much more. and in this so much more your cock is pretty insignificant. because your cock and your touch and your kiss is such a tiny part of everything that i love. it's not what you do, it's the way you are. it's the way that you move, it's the way that you think, it's the way that you live. if anything, that would be the most accurate definition of what i love. liking needs reasons. love doesn't. love is unconditional. love doesn't ask why. love just happens. love simply is. like your morning coffee, like your smoke, like your english, like your eyes in the morning, like your fingertops, like your sighs, like your doubts, like your dreams and regrets, like your pain and sorrow, like your joy and frustration, like your words, born and yet unconceived. Just lie there and do nothing, and i would still love you. what do i like? cats and cherries and your tongue on my nipples - that's what i like. not much really.
I don't know what's going to happen. maybe not much, or probably nothing at all. Life is short, yes, but people are incredibly slow, and it takes much more than a badly composed love letter to change their minds or hearts."
well, this was a bit longer than i expected. even in my wine-foggy mind i can easily spot the cliches. i guess i felt elated and, it seems, very enthusiastic. i guess i was sure i had so much to say, and that what i had to say was singular and astounding. it wasn't, of course. apart from a couple of sentences. but don't judge this woman too harsh. she was and still is desperate. and anything is better than bitter irony. even the 'love happens' line. of course any sound person would beg to differ. love doesn't happen, it is created and cherished and sustained. or simply imagined. which is beautiful in any case, because it makes artists of us all. and being an artists is the most dignified form of existence a human being could dream of. everything else is a construct.
do you know when i first..how should i put it..noticed you? when i read that article on trafficking. i remembered it! back then i didn't even read that magazine, but just leafing through it and paying attention to what you wrote and how you wrote it caught my attention. i read it and i thought - finally someone is writing about some real stuff.. which isn't a phrase i would use now but which describes exactly the way i felt then. you caught the attention of an ignorant cynic. and someone had been with you on a date, or so i'd heard. and of course i didn't care, but even in my not caring i could vividly remember that i thought: goodness, if it had been me, this man would have simply crushed me. honestly, that's what ran through my mind. before i returned to my daily chores and forgot about you altogether. until a year or so later..
I bought a flower today and put it on the windowsill. I think it looks beautiful. I've wanted to have a plant in here for a long time. I thought i would buy it when i get the 'promotion' at my job, but when i got it i didn't feel glad at all, so i let it be.. and now, today, finally at long last it felt like a perfect day to buy this flower. i had a black dress and i had curls in my hair and colleague I. said i looked beautiful. and, well, i did feel beautiful. cute and girlish and pretty. it must be the curls, i think.
since i'm tipsy enough and i feel more than i can accomplish in expressing what i feel, i though i might just as well post something that i wrote earlier. a month and a half ago, when it was still snowing and when i still hoped for us to grow.
05/03
I almost jumped on the Riga-Vilnius bus. Except that it was about to leave at 18:45, and it was 18:35. And i put my hat and my scarf and my gloves on, and then this stupid coat with the broken zipper. do you remember? most probably not. and just like then, at Sapnju fabrika after Goran Gora concert almost a year ago, it just broke down. a fucking zipper. and i was almost ready to leave, and this stupid zipper just wouldn't work, and i just stayed there and counted down the minutes: 38, 39, 40.. and only five minutes left, and of course it became clear that i wouldn't go anywhere, and of course i had to persuade myself that it somehow was not meant to be, not meant to happen. not now, not today. perhaps some other time. but it just felt wrong. terribly and stupidly wrong. and of course there was an airbaltic flight at 23:30 but it just didn't feel right. and then i thought, what are those feelings anyway? should we rely on them? are they any more than flickers of self-deceptions? and the answer is.. just because i'm drunk and gibberish.. the answer is NO. in vino veritas or whatever. because tonight i wouldn't want to be anywhere else but with you. no agenda, no purpose. just being with you, there and then. wherever you are. just to hold you. just to see you. to feel you. your arms, your skin, your look, your eyes, your voice, your everything. the thing is - you don't even have to fuck me. you're stupid to say that i love your cock. yes it's true and yet it's so far far from the truth. because what i love is so much more. and in this so much more your cock is pretty insignificant. because your cock and your touch and your kiss is such a tiny part of everything that i love. it's not what you do, it's the way you are. it's the way that you move, it's the way that you think, it's the way that you live. if anything, that would be the most accurate definition of what i love. liking needs reasons. love doesn't. love is unconditional. love doesn't ask why. love just happens. love simply is. like your morning coffee, like your smoke, like your english, like your eyes in the morning, like your fingertops, like your sighs, like your doubts, like your dreams and regrets, like your pain and sorrow, like your joy and frustration, like your words, born and yet unconceived. Just lie there and do nothing, and i would still love you. what do i like? cats and cherries and your tongue on my nipples - that's what i like. not much really.
I don't know what's going to happen. maybe not much, or probably nothing at all. Life is short, yes, but people are incredibly slow, and it takes much more than a badly composed love letter to change their minds or hearts."
well, this was a bit longer than i expected. even in my wine-foggy mind i can easily spot the cliches. i guess i felt elated and, it seems, very enthusiastic. i guess i was sure i had so much to say, and that what i had to say was singular and astounding. it wasn't, of course. apart from a couple of sentences. but don't judge this woman too harsh. she was and still is desperate. and anything is better than bitter irony. even the 'love happens' line. of course any sound person would beg to differ. love doesn't happen, it is created and cherished and sustained. or simply imagined. which is beautiful in any case, because it makes artists of us all. and being an artists is the most dignified form of existence a human being could dream of. everything else is a construct.
do you know when i first..how should i put it..noticed you? when i read that article on trafficking. i remembered it! back then i didn't even read that magazine, but just leafing through it and paying attention to what you wrote and how you wrote it caught my attention. i read it and i thought - finally someone is writing about some real stuff.. which isn't a phrase i would use now but which describes exactly the way i felt then. you caught the attention of an ignorant cynic. and someone had been with you on a date, or so i'd heard. and of course i didn't care, but even in my not caring i could vividly remember that i thought: goodness, if it had been me, this man would have simply crushed me. honestly, that's what ran through my mind. before i returned to my daily chores and forgot about you altogether. until a year or so later..