THE BLOG

noskatījos jauno sarkangalvīti, jo man ļoti patīk Amanda. anyway, tās filmas artdirektoram vajag oskaru, jo darbības fons vizuāli bija no kājām gāzoši labs; savukārt filmas frizieri vajag nošaut, jo visiem puišiem bija hipertrofētas krēslas Edvarda frizūras. nu vispār arī pati filma did not make any sense AT ALL, tomēr es jau minēju, ka man ļoti patīk Amanda, kā arī pēdējā filmas aina arī nebija slikta - galvenā varone kopā ar mīļoto uzšķērž savu mirušo tēvu, sabāž viņam vēderā akmeņus, aizšuj tēvu ciet un tad iemet viņu upē. made of win.

the sun is setting behind my back as she sends her electric wave across the vast landscape of my metaspace. for a moment I feel completely illuminated by the fusion of sunlight and her power; for a moment I feel all my shadows burning in agony. wave after wave until I am dazed by this unstoppable force and its aftermath.

we lie on the bed facing each other and her color sinks into me. the night slowly falls on our eyes and makes them heavy, but your orange vortex is like an anchor, it will not let me drift off to sleep. tonight I remember the rise of endymion - to make love to the right person is one of the few absolute rewards of being a human being, balancing all the clumsiness that go with the human condition; if there is a true religion in the universe, it must include that truth of contact or be forever hollow.

I smoke a cigarette, standing naked in the frame of the open window. the cool breeze feels smooth against my skin and makes me more solid again. suddenly something moves at the edge of my vision, I turn my head and try to find the motion on the dark cadence of trees. it seems etched in the picture, a dark mass in the foreground to reality, a stalking shadow in the tall grass. the dimness of twilight hides its features but I can feel it - its eyeless gaze measuring me, as if laughing at my ignorance. I can feel the distinction of the term ignorance in its directed thought. it shifts and changes form, and I get the impression that distance and space are irrelevant concepts for it. I probe it with my consciousness, and it tells me the meadow is empty. she walks into the room with a bottle of water and it disappears. a connection made and broken in a split second, in a half-breath. I did not even have the time to become afraid or form an emotion.

a morning of summer reflected in blue eyes. a bright and perfect day, a white bird flying above me as I walk.

izskatās, ka rīt vakarā jādodas uz Sigitas sālsmaizi. runā, ka viņa ir ievākusies teikā pie Dvēselītes.

- Dima, novāc rokas no maniem cepumiem, bļeģ! A to es tev šas ar daiktu pa klavieri nobraukšu!!

vakar ieradāmies Ikšķilē. the timing was perfect, jo mēs ieripinājāmies servisā tieši brīdī, kad motora temperatūras dačiks sasniedza maksimālo atzīmi, jo radiatorā bija caurums. atstājām mašīnu servisā un Airisa mūs aizvizināja pie sevis, kur mūs sagaidīja šašliks, kalns ar kūpinātu vistu, kūpināts zandarts un tāda paliela kāju vanna ar rasolu. to visu mēs noskalojām lejā ar bonapartu un pāris alus kastēm.

tad vēl vienā brīdī aizlaidām līdz Meinarda salai. karoče ar Mustangu nekad laivā nekāpiet, jo mēs līdz salai knapi tikām; pēdējos metrus laiva bija līdz pusei pilna ar ūdeni un es svīdu aukstus sviedrus par to, ka nebiju telefonu atstājis krastā. atpakaļ nolēmu airēt pats un Mustangu laivā neņemt. tas gan airēšanu daudz neuzlaboja, jo Silva pirmīt bija nolauzusi vienu airi. pēdējiem spēkiem izkāpām krastā, un Žaņa ar Silvu nolēma aizairēt pakaļ pārējiem. metru no krasta viņas apgāzās, kā rezultātā Silva pasūtīja Žaņu dirst, un Žana turpināja ceļu viena pati. Vakarā Žaņai bija drudzis.

visa šī brauciena rezultātā mēs nokavējām koncerta sākumu, so nolēmām par ieeju nemaksāt un doties uz skolas salidojuma balli. apbrīnojami viegli iešmaucām skolā garām visiem sargiem, satikām pāris paziņas un Kikīti, kurš jau knapi varēja nostāvēt; ironiski, jo pāris stundas iepriekš viņš ar mums dārzā bija filosofējis par to, cik ļoti viņš ir izaudzis no vecuma, kurā gribas pilnīgi pieļurbāties, lai aizmirstu realitāti.

pēc tam nonācām atpakaļ Silvas dārza mājā, un sākām smelt Jack Daniel's. pa starpai aizšmaucām pie Airisas paēst, tad atkal atpakaļ, un tā tas turpinājās līdz kādiem trijiem naktī, kad mājās ieradās Silva ar Andžu un mēs vairs nespējām turpināt.

šorīt jūtos apbrīnojami lieliski :)

aizlasījos Artemija Ļebeģeva blogu. kaut kā patīk tā čaļa vieglais cinisms, kas atjaukts ar dažiem jaukiem krievu lamuvārdiem. I have always been a sucker for cool russian swearwords. nu anyways, te būs viens vecs polls par to kā cilvēki sauc savas pakaļas - http://tema.livejournal.com/889051.html mani fascinē krievu valoda!

Šodien sēdēju darbā uz lievenīša ar kafiju un coltiem, kad pēkšņi netālu no manis zālītē haotiski nolaidās divi zvirbuļi. Pēkšņi burtiski no zila gaisa uzradās rižais kaķis, kas te klimst ap mūsu māju; viņš slaidā lēcienā piespieda abus putniņus pie zemes, nokoda un apēda. It was amazing! Tas kaķis literally uzradās no nekurienes, izlīda no kādas ēnas, he just popped into existence. Un tas lēciens bija tik perfekti tēmēts un graciozs, like, līdz milimetram precīzs. Kaķi ir tik lieliski. I appreciate this wonderful display of perfection that the world showed me today.

Dī bija feisbukā iemetusi vienu rakstu par sabiedrības kontrolēšanu caur medijiem, un es tur uzdūros vienam jaukam teikumam.

[..] the primary defect of democracy is the impossible ideal of the "omnicompetent citizen".

es tā arī zināju, ka viss ir sūds. lai nu kā - vēlāk šis apcerīgais raksts mani noveda arī līdz tam, ka izlasīju tādu normālu kaudzi ar materiālu par Junga psiholoģiju, lai labāk izprastu vienu citātu, un tas viss ir novedis pie tā, ka tagad mana galva liekas nedaudz smaga. un man nav miera tagad, jo es nu nekādi nespēju aptvert to fišku, ka arhetipi ir pārmantojami. es neizprotu, ko TIEŠI Jungs bija domājis ar pārmantojamību. ja kāds man to saprotami izskaidros, tad alus kauss no manis.

Labi, pienācis laiks nopietnam ierakstam. Un šis nopietnais ieraksts adresēs manas dzimšanas dienas problēmu. Redzi, problēma ir tur, ka es nespēju šo lielisko dienu vienkārši ignorēt; man par katru cenu ir nepieciešams uzrīkot pasākumu KATRU GADU, un tam ir jābūt visai iespaidīgu apmēru pasākumam. Nezinu, vai pie vainas ir fakts, ka man neuzdzen stresu mana novecošana, vai arī vienkārši es esmu uzmanības mauka, bet es vienkārši nevaru bez pasākuma savā dzimšanas dienā.

Bet nu reiz ir pienācis tas brīdis, kad man vairs nav ideju. Tipa ir tā, ka svinēšanas datums ir 28. maijs, sestdiena; tajā pat dienā ir Latkons, uz kuru pat vajadzētu aiziet. Nu un tad vakarā svinam. Bet man nav ne jausmas KUR. Tam laikam vajadzētu būt pietiekami tuvu Rīgai, lai pēc Latkona var tur normāli nokļūt. So, jaukas idejas par jaukām lokācijām ir very welcome.

in other news, sestdien jāmočī uz muzeju nakti lielā barā. pagājušogad mēs tā arī neaizgājām, jo lija lietus. domāju, ka šogad gan vajag pavazāties.

I enjoyed the penetrating warmth of the night as I walked the secluded paths of my neighborhood. Every bend and turn was known to me, as if all those empty years had been like any other yesterday. I sometimes got sad about that part of my life, I had lost so much time in pointless pursuits back then. I had lost the time. Unforgivable.

Tonight the omnipresent entropy tugged at the layers of my flickering consciousness; the pavements were worn out; one could feel the decay of time. Nature would take over this place within my lifetime as this ugly monument to an alien ideology slowly crumbled to pieces. It felt like life was so much easier now.

It roared out of the darkness like a huge segmented beast. I caught myself stepping back half a step. No, don't be afraid now. The beast taunted my perception with its frugal appearance, made of nothing but sound and shadow; I could not really tell how far in front of me it was moving, everything was the same blackness; sound alone couldn't tell me the exact position; I felt a little breeze from its movement, it was quite close; the ground was shaking. I suddenly had an urge to extend my arm and touch it, to feel its jagged side, so slide my fingers over its body. Yes, don't be afraid now. I was amazed as I felt my hand was now fully extended in the direction of the racing cargo train. I waited. I could imagine all kinds of things protruding from the side of the train that could tear my arm off, and I waited for them. Something whistled across the darkness that was my field of vision, and then the train was gone. My breath was calm. I have to stop indulging like this - I thought.

Her touch was as fiery as ever, now mixed with the strength of the earth. When I touched her, the feeling in my whole body was something akin to licking a battery. You know, the old kind, the flat square batteries that had two small metal plates protruding from top; if you touched both plates at the same time with the tip of your tongue, you could feel the salty taste of electricity and the ensuing numbness that lingered for a couple of moments. I wished she could feel the full force of her influence. I was impatient, but I knew she would come to it soon enough. I waited for that storm, for the agony of pleasure.

A sudden scent of spring was carried to us with a light breeze - white cherry trees blooming in the veiled darkness, their vibrant fragrance emanating in the night as a piercing sound, as a wave of pleasure. We stood on this island and breathed for a while. Electricity in my body and the ensuing numbness. This was uncharted territory for me.

We walked among the humming beams of streetlights in an almost deserted part of city. It almost felt like we were the last people on earth, but then someone appeared from around the corner; he was wearing a nice coat and a scarf lined with tiny lines; his dull eyes reflected the tiny glow of his cigarette. He was completely, blindly drunk. He staggered past us, barely able to walk the pavement, and disappeared from our sight; the feeling was gone. The air was cold and it didn't feel like spring tonight. It did not matter.

Even though we were losing our warmth fast as we were sitting on the stone stair, the music of her breath made me forget about the cold. Her wave was conveyed to me with the movement of her chest, and I was amazed with the ease at which my mind translated it on the fly. It seemed like it was perfectly in sync with my own cadence; I thought of confluence and how our overlapping waves would create a perfect storm. I knew she was the perfect partner for it. Her mischievous smile proved it.

The pavement was sliding beneath me with insane speed. It rushed by like a blur when I looked at my moving feet. A river of stone. This was not so intense as it usually was in the haze of various substances, but I realized that my mind was now capable of producing this state of surreality at will. I kept on walking and decided that I felt the globe rolling beneath my feet; I felt the earth gain momentum from the force I applied with my steps. I was safe in my ignorance, because I did not know how fast the earth was actually rotating or traveling along its orbit; this magic was forever mine until I would find out the speed of earth's rotation. It was funny to experience happiness about my lack of knowledge.

I bumped into the door and held on to a wall so I would not stumble from the momentum I had created. I physically felt the intense movement in my vestibular system; it felt like I was standing on a swaying ship and the wall was slowly changing its position in space; it was already towering over me, as if about to crush me, so I held it in place with all my strength, trying to stop the rotation I had caused. I had to calm down and understand that these feelings were self-inflicted. After a moment of deep breathing it was gone. I had always thought it amazing, how easy it was to make your mind obey. I loved these moments of aftermath; I rejoiced in the knowledge that every feeling I felt was rich and intense.

Nupat noskatījos "Lost in translation", ko biju atlicis uz ļoti ilgu laiku. Beidzot tas ir izdarīts. Beidzot.

Es nekad negribu uz Japānu. Vai Ķīnu. Vai citu tikpat nesaprotamu vietu. Es to noteikti neizturētu.

The night was cold but my clothes were warm and there was a sense of burning within me; it was left there by a hungry touch. This strange feeling of safety reminded me of a passage from Anne Rice's books, where Luis described his loss of fear regarding the destructive elements of nature; no sickness could not take him, no matter how severe the blizzard that tried to tear his body apart. No fear, just power. In his case it was the cold power of immortality, his curse and undoing. In my case it was like a warm armour that kept the coldness at bay.

We all emanated it tonight - the inability to cope with something. It was like a sharp sound that pierced the night, coming from the depths of our cores, all the while our faces contorted in masks of happiness. Each mask was different and very elaborate, as if carved by the greatest masters of deception that ever lived. It could have worked, if not for the sound that I heard as clearly as I hear the sounds of a distant city, the muffled voices in the other room or the whistling wind under my windowsill. The sound was elusive, yet undoubtedly oppressive with the heavy resonance in each of us.

The doors opened and we went into a well lit room that was filled with unknown faces; the faces were waving as if in a gentle breeze; a meadow - I thought - the grass is waving in the wind. The feeling was so surreal that for a moment it seemed my mind had finally given in. Then there was a glimpse of something familiar in the crowd; split second later his strong hand was shaking mine and his smiling face filled the field of vision. His charisma and energy as chaotic as before, but at least the knowledge of this familiar chaos was something substantial. An old love of mine; for a couple of moments he was the only monumental thing in my blurry vision.

Bubbles and steam were rising around me, muffling the sound of their voices. Plain, boring desire in their dull, watery eyes; their faces in bleak darkness, not illuminated by intelligence. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore them. In the silence of my mind a single thought came to me - the water is a conduit. I had to get out or else be cursed with their contagious darkness. The fragile state of my surreal perception was about to be blown to pieces. Paranoia - I thought - I wonder if this is what it feels like.

I was looking at the ground and I saw the sky, I enveloped the hills in golden fires, and watching the flames I whispered her name. The meanings of things were so subjective. The tension of surreality was about to crush me, and I retreated in the safety of knowledge that emotions were a real thing, no matter how they would come to life. I heard a voice. It told me our taxi was here, so I got up and went in the direction of car's headlights. I cought a glimpse of her through the glass door; giving her phone number to a married man. Framed in the window pane, so iconic. The destroyer - I thought - I hope you do not obliterate yourself, running like this.

every time I entered the spotlight of streetlights, I felt like inhaling, as if I came into existence. every time I left the light's circle, it was exhaling, death. light and expansion, darkness and contraction. I rode this wave of strange and wondrous mind-chemistry, that made me feel ultimately dual. I did not know how it worked, and so it became magical in my perception; the whole experience suddenly seemed more occult and mystical. light and I inhaled, darkness and I exhaled. being high on air, I suddenly felt a fear gripping me - if I keep on breathing like this, what will happen when I fall asleep and drift away in the darkness; will I die and contract in the coldness? will I stay there, dead until the first rays of morning light when air will finally break into me and I will be able to inhale?

step by step I was moving closer to my goal.

I pushed the buttons on the number-plate at my door until I heard the awful noise, heralding the opening of the lock. I always hated that harsh electric noise, it constantly reminded me of the fear I had from the white noise of TVs; it always reminded me of this irrational weakness, every time I had to come home. I was silently hoping that this involuntary mental exercise would make me stronger or that maybe one day I would become familiar with my fear through repetition, that I would be afraid no longer. climbing up the stairs I knew it was all a lie.

the door to my apartment was slightly ajar. soft girlish laughter and shuffling, mixed with a scent of stale wine and perfume. I felt repelled by this insane combination of smells and sounds. everyone in the apartment jumped in fright as I crossed the threshold. I saw the eyes first; they were huge in surprise. only after countless moments I realized there was a face attached to those eyes and that it was saying something.

- Hi! - the face said. it was the face of Her best friend; the face was jagged, the effect of the sharp shadows under her cheeks.
- Hi... - I replied, feeling how the huge cloud of their perfumes smothered me. they were all dressed to go out.
- You all going somewhere?
- *nervous silence*
- I won't be home tonight - She cried out, kissed me on the lips and rushed out the door, all the girlfriends following Her. for a moment I had the impression that someone just pulled the bath plug; they all trickled out of the apartment and ran down the stairs giggling and shouting something incomprehensible. I locked the door.

I lit a bunch of incense sticks and tried to feel their calming effect for a while. the heaving smell of their "expensive" perfume died away and I felt better. then I started turning off all the lights with shaky hands; I half expected to drop dead when the darkness would finally be all round me. then it happened. the darkness. it tingled in my stomach. and I inhaled.

a really pretty short film - http://vimeo.com/18455326
and a nice sketch. a tune for two - http://vimeo.com/21362582

šonakt gulēju savā gultā viens pats, kas nebija gadījies kopš like 1924tā gada. uz tām trīs-četrām miega stundām es arī redzēju tik daudz sapņu, cik nebiju redzējis... nenormāli sen. and I mean actual nice dreams, not nightmares. es protams atkal aizgulējos.

that reminds me of this one summer, kad bija tas dzīvoklis pie Spices. tas viss protams beidzās slikti, bet man šobrīd ir tikpat vienalga kā toreiz, jo spīd forša saulīte un tas labi ietekmē manu pašsajūtu un ego.

šodien visu dienu mocos ar kamolu vēderā. katru reizi, kad iedomājos vienu konkrētu domu, man pilnīgi gribas pārlocīties vidū uz pusēm no tās intensīvās sajūtas. īstenībā nevarētu teikt, ka tā sajūta ir intensīvi nepatīkama - ir diezgan forši.

pēdējā laikā ir tik daudz sajūtu. nav tikai tās sajūtas, ka atrodos uz zemes ar abām kājām. runājot kādas zināmas filmas tēla Lestera vārdiem "I feel like I've been in a coma for the past twenty years. and I'm just now waking up."

tā vien liekas, ka nekad dzīvē man nav bijis lielāks mērķa zudums kā pašreiz. pilnīgi viss liekas tik nenormāli muļķīgs un nekam nevajadzīgs. tajā pat laikā man apkārt ir tik daudz skaistu lietu, kuras visas noteikti vajag izbaudīt. pietiek tikai nedaudz novērsties, tikai pamirkšķināt acis, un mērķis ir izzudis lēni gaistošajā pavasara rīta miglā. tā vietā ir stājies kas cits. vai kāds cits. поет засранный, кончай, тошнит уже.

šodien studijā es gandrīz atliku ķepas - ar nekonvencionālām metodēm nācās čiņīt mūsu treadmill'u un iepisu vienam kontaktam, kas turējās uz puņķiem. pa gaisu aizlidoja dzirksteļu fontāns, ko pavadīja kolēģu rupjie brēcieni par nesaglabātiem failiem, jo bija aizlidojuši arī korķi. par laimi 2kW studijas gaismas bija uz citas fāzes, tapēc šis starpgadījums neizmaksāja pārdesmit tūkstošus latu. you know, tās studiju gaismas ir cimperlīgas kuces - izsisti korķi mierīgi var izsist no ierindas viņas pašas, or so they say. rezultātā visi varēja iet mājās ātrāk, jo turpināt darbu vairs nebija iespējams.

es nolēmu iet kājām, jo man patīk izbaudīt pastaigas vienam pašam. nu vismaz dažreiz, kad es jūtos smags kā milzīgs svina klucis, un man gribas, lai vējš visu izvēdina. turns out, the world is miraculously wonderful. tikai man viss besī ārā, jo mana staigāšanas meditācija nesa pavisam citādas atziņas nekā biju gaidījis. nolēmu sevi ārstēt ar shoppingu un iegāju Humanā, lol. tur iegādājos jaciņu pavasarim, kā arī lielisku stoneru cepuri zaļajai ceturtdienai.

atnācu mājās un sapratu, ka patiešām esmu te krietni aizsēdējies. всё имеет предел возможного

- Dima, banānu gribi?
- Nē
- Nu kā tad tā? Tāds mērkaķis, a banānu negrib!
[smiekli]
- Good one.
- A kas jāsaka, ja tomēr viņš paņem to banānu?
- Paldies...?
- Nē, bļeģ. Kas jāsaka tam, kurš piedāvā banānu?
- Nekas. Viņam tad ir feils un vairs nav banāna.


- Eu, turkebabā ir lieldienu piedāvājums!
- Kāds? Lieldienu kebabs ar olām?
- Bļe paskaties kā viņš izskatās. It kā vesels trusis būtu iekšā!

mums ir plāns pēc zaļās ceturtdienas kāpt mašīnās un piedzīvot nelielu divu dienu un divu nakšu road-trip-of-awesomness cēsu virzienā. viena mašīna jau mums ir sarunāta un nokomplektēta. ja kāds vēlas, noteikti var mums pievienoties ar vēl dažām mašīnām.