THE BLOG

nodzīvoju trīs dienas pie dabas. tas bija lieliski, jo vilnas drēbes un silti apavi ļāva man pārāk nesatraukties par elementiem. man patīk pierast pie dabas un atrasties tajā, dzīvojot līdzi visam tam ritmam. man arī patīk, kā daba parāda cilvēkus drusku īstākā gaismā - trešajā dienā var redzēt, kurš spēj dzīvot dabai līdzi, un kuru tā jau ir izsmēlusi. ir arī baigi dīvaina sajūta atgriezties pilsētā, un apģērbt pilsētas drēbes. tad var just, cik ļoti pilsēta atvieglo eksistenci, sargājot no elementiem un grūtībām - zābaki ar papēdi un parastas drēbes bikses būtu nightmare, ja man tādam būtu bijis jāstaigā pa mežu; pilsētā viss ir gaišs, zeme zem kājām ir līdzena un vienmērīgi cieta, nekad pārāk ilgi neatrodies ārpus apsildītām telpām utt.

jau kādu laiku ir plāns, ka vajadzētu iemācīties izdzīvot dabā arī tad, ja pirms meža apmeklējuma neiegriezies rimi. neskatoties uz manu šausmīgo slinkumu, šāda veida grūtības man patīk. droši vien tas tāpēc, ka mežs ir vienīgā vieta, kur es jūtu, ka man apkārt viss patiešām ir īsts.

pirms kāda laika datasfērā kārtējo reizi pacēlās tēma par homeopātiju, un kaut kā sagadījās, ka manā dzīvoklī viesojās vairāki farmācijas studenti, tapēc es protams nenoturējos, un uzdevu liktenīgo jautājumu - ko jūs domājat par homeopātiju? es saprotu, ka daudzi varētu smīnēt par studentiem kā autoritāti jebkurā jautājumā, tomēr šīs nozares studenti noteikti zina par šo nozari vairāk nekā es, so why the hell not.

atbildes bija dažādas un pārsteidzošas, tomēr viena no tām pirmajā brīdī likās kaut cik legit - homeopātiskie līdzekļi satur ļoti mazu daudzumu aktīvās vielas, bet lietojot tos ilgstoši, aktīvā viela varētu uzkrāties organismā un tad kaut kā iedarboties. it seemed worth checking out, but... it did not check out. izrādās, ka tā atšķaidīšana homeopātijā ir tik brutāla, ka lielākoties pārdotajos līdzekļos nepaliek pāri neviena molekula no aktīvās vielas, nemaz jau nerunājot par to, ka random vielai uzkrājoties organismā, kaut kam obligāti būtu jākļūst labāk.

vēlāk citā kompānijā izskanēja doma par to, ka ūdens patur kaut kādu enerģiju no šīs aktīvās vielas, un tāpēc šis ūdens ir kaut kādā veidā foršs un veselīgs. well, you know me, I am a sucker for word 'energy' so piespiedu sevi palasīt par šo fenomenu. nonācu līdz kaut kādam japānim, kurš ražo dažādus ārstnieciskus ūdeņus, kas satur visādas labas enerģijas. stāsts ir par veco labo eksperimentu, kurā sasaldē dažādus ūdeņus; ūdens, kas saņēmis pozitīvas domas, iegūst ārkārtīgi skaistu kristālisku struktūru, kamēr negatīva ūdens kristāli ir neglīti un haotiski. atklājās, ka viens labsirdīgs profesors kopā ar šo čali bija veicis nopietnu zinātnisku double blind pētījumu par šo lietu, un esot pierādījies, ka visa tā ir huiņa. visi ūdens kristāli ir vienādi neatkarīgi no tā, ko cilvēki par to ūdeni domā. protams japāņu čalis šo faktu ir aizmirsis publiski pieminēt, un turpina savā websaitā tirgot ārstniecisku indigo ūdeni. well, nothing to do here, ūdenim nav šāda veida atmiņas.

pēc kāda laika dzirdēju vēl vienu farmācistu izsakāmies, ka homeopātija esot līdzīga akupunktūrai - tipa neviens neko nevar pierādīt, bet tā huiņa totāli strādājot; viss esot klīniski pierādīts, bet ne zinātniski pierādīts. devos meklēt kādu pētījumu par šo tēmu, un nācās secināt, ka klīnisku pētījumu par homeopātiju esot praktiski neiespējami veikt double blind veidā, jo beigās pārbaudot preparātus neesot iespējams noteikt vai šajā pudelītē bijis parasts ūdens vai sakratīts homeopātisks ūdens, jo tajā nav NEVIENAS MOLEKULAS no aktīvās vielas.
well, fail.

lai arī šis mazais kvests pēc patiesības ir nedaudz smieklīgs, it had its merry moments. secinājums ir tāds, ka droši vien es izvairīšos no homeopātijas un ārstēšos ar zālēm, kas varētu arī actually strādāt. tajā pat laikā man liekas, ka nav baigās jēgas cīnīties ar šādiem muļķīgiem uzskatiem sabiedrībā, jo iespējams, ka mūsdienās ir pārāk maz dabiskās atlases faktoru, tapēc homeopātija, cigaretes utml. ir vajadzīgi ļaunumi.

tomēr visa šī procesa laikā radās viena doma - kapēc neviens nestrādā pie tā, lai replicētu placebo efektu pēc iespējas vairāk cilvēkos? ja jau ir zināms, ka cilvēks sevi točna var izārstēt ar meliem, kapēc šo procesu nevarētu kaut kā streamlainot, lai tas darbotos uz pēc iespējas vairāk cilvēkiem? wouldn't that be a good thing?

Atis man nesen ieteica izlasīt 'Blindsight' by Peter Watts. Autors ir marine biologist doktors, kas brīvajā laikā uzcep kādu hack fiction. Viņa darbi gan ir ļoti packed ar reāliem un pārbaudāmiem zinātnes faktiem (grāmatas beigās pat ir atsauces), which maks it more awesome than most science fiction novels.

You invest so much in it, don't you? It's what elevates you above the beasts of the field, it's what makes you special. Homo sapiens, you call yourself. Wise Man. Do you even know what it is, this consciousness you cite in your own exaltation? Do you even know what it's for?
( ... tālāk ... )

nujā. pilns ar šādu te extreme awesomeness, ko viņš pasniedz īpaši ciniskā veidā, principā nonākot līdz secinājumam, ka sentience (nevis intelligence) ir pilnīgi nevajadzīga huiņa, kas aizņem pārāk daudz processing power smadzenēs, tamdēļ principā ir nevajadzīga, un evolūcija tai liks pazust.

I enjoyed it too much.

Ati, dod nākamo grāmatu!

"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"

It has been proposed that our space actually possesses a slight four-dimensional hyperthickness, so that the ultimate components of our nervous system are actually higher dimensional, thus enabling the human brain to imagine four-dimensional space(Hinton, 1888, 1904; Rucker, 1977). If this is the case, then the three-dimensional nets of neurons that code thoughts in our brain may form four-dimensional patterns to achieve four-dimensional thought.

Can we see into the 4th dimension and have four-dimensional thoughts? Yes, we can.

Proof (see Rucker, 1977, 1984): If you look at a Necker cube for a while, it spontaneously turns into its mirror image and back again. If you watch it do this often enough, the twinkling sort of motion from one state to the other begins to seem like a continuous motion. But this motion can only be continuous if it is a rotation in four-dimensional space. The mathematician August F. Möbius discovered in 1827 that it is in fact possible to turn a three-dimensional solid object into its mirror image by an appropriate rotation through four-dimensional space (a.k.a. hyperspace rotation).Thus, it is actually possible for our minds to perform such a rotation. Therefore, we can actually produce four-dimensional phenomenon in our minds, so our consciousness is four-dimensional.

[Eric W. Davis in AFRL-PR-ED-TR-2003-0034]

es vakar drusku uzpīpēju spaisu, un gandrīz sajuku prātā. droši vien tas izklausās neticami, muļķīgi un varbūt pat arī smieklīgi, tomēr es varu apgalvot, ka pilnīgi nekā smieklīga tajā nebija. ceru, ka šis smalkais notikumu apraksts iedvesmos visus, kas vēlas lietot narkotiskas vielas.

( ... tālāk ... )

long story short - man vakar gluži vienkārši gandrīz noslīdēja jumts. merry christmas.

“Scientific discoveries”, Einstein wrote, “are not made logically. They acquire logical form only later, when being described. A discovery, even the tiniest one, is always an insight. The result comes from the outside and so unexpectedly that it seems somebody helped you find the answer.”

my head was buzzing and there was a slight tremor in my chest, akin to the vibration that resonates inside when one is singing. I desperately strived to gather myself and translate my senses back to normal. it proved difficult. a directed presumptuous anger washed over me in large waves as I gradually lost my footing. I was shaking from the cold and trying to conceal it. the creature held a firm link to my consciousness now, waiting for me to make a mistake. and I did.

my head was light and there was a saturated orange light in my body. it was very warm on the street. even though it was autumn, it felt like a night of summer. signboards and bright shop windows coalesced in a colorful blur of inexplicit shapes. for a moment it seemed that I was dreaming. the vivid experience of colors was pierced by indisctinct sounds, that appeared as visual shapes as soon as they reached my ears. her hand touched me and everything exploded into white light from the intense sensory perception.

my head was on a pillow. at first I felt her presence, nestled in the curve of my body. then came her warmth, then the tickling sensation from her hair, then the motion of her breathing. her eyes so close, her gaze so certain and steady, my gaze so sleepy and cruel. I closed my eyes and enjoyed these final moments of our sensual convergence. it made the mornings much easier to bear.

three separate moments. even though everything had changed immensely, I felt exceedingly unalterable.

vakar aizgāju drusku iedzert aliņu alā. kā jau normālā ceturtdienā piecos raundos padirsu brengulim. laikam es drusku pārcentos ar koncentrēšanos uz dzērieniem, nevis uz kompāniju, jo vienā brīdī es sapratu, ka man jau ir reāli jāturas pie sienām. es biju tik piedzēries, ka vairs pat Poison nevarēja padziedāt. tā ir tāda dīvaini patīkama sajūta, kad tu izjūti savas balss limitu, un to, cik patiesībā tava balss ir vāja. vobšem es nekad vēl nebiju tā pieļurbājies bārā, un tas bija diezgan muļķīgi no manas puses, jo ar tevi protams notiks visādas negatīvas lietas tieši tad, kad tu būsi drusku nolaidis savu aizsardzību. the night was horrible. although I feel completely ravaged, it was a nice reminder that I am not invincible. jāpaņem pāris mierīgi vakari.

vakar biju aizlaidis līdz jūrai, kur kļuvu par kādām pāris tonnām vieglāks, un tad drusku pa virsu uzēdu meloni. tas bija lieliski. mani pēc tam izmeta centrā pie cēsu ielas un es secināju, ka autobuss vairs neiet. I was like - eh fuck it, who cares - un sāku iet kaut kādā virzienā. es pēc tam sevi atceros kaut kur pie centrālās stacijas, kur man palika slikti no cilvēkiem, kas vazājas apkārt un bauda nakts dzīvi; pēc kāda laika biju uz salu tilta, kur es lūkojos tumšajā ūdenī un priecājos par atspulgiem; pēc tam es gulēju zālē kaut kur ceļa malā un skatījos debesīs; nākamais - jau slēdzu vaļā dzīvokļa durvis. laiks bija pazudis, un spēka man pietika, lai vēl nostaigātu pāris reizes apkārt zemeslodei.

šorīt man bija nepārvarama vēlme kārtot un slaucīt, jo viss liekas pārāk netīrs. ir daudz pretīgāk pieskarties lietām, ja vien neesmu tām pārbraucis pāri ar mitru lupatu. viss te ir tik smags. gribējās arī atbrīvoties no visādām mantām, tapēc vienkārši izmetu ārā viena skapja saturu.

hell yes.

vakar vakarā pēc vazāšanās pa vecrīgu tomēr pakļāvos Žaņai un nolēmu aiziet uz Alu izdzert vienu aliņu. protams, ka nekad jau tas nebeidzas ar vienu aliņu. tas pilnīgi noteikti nekad nebeidzas ar vienu, ja tiek dzerts brengulis, kurš sit pa seju tā, ka tu esi mīksts jau pēc pāris kausiņiem. runā, ka Žaņa ierodoties mājās esot izgāzusi durvis vai iegāzusies pa durvīm, vai kaut kā tā. man droši vien arī negāja daudz labāk, viss kā pa miglu. man ir aizdomas, ka vakar darīju to lietu, ko sauc par drunk-dialing. mājās knapi atslēdzu durvis un vienkārši iegāzos gultā. pēc brīža tikai pamanīju, ka man vēl uz pleciem ir mugursoma, jo bija grūtības pagriezties uz muguras. šitā baisā dzeršana nedēļas vidū ir kaut kāds ārprāts.

šorīt normāli nogulēju darbu. es pat biju pamodies laikā, bet nospiedu snooze, un pilnīgā pohujā nokrācu vēl divas stundas. darbā runā, ka mans temps arī esot mazinājies. droši vien vajag drusku saņemties un ieiet kaut kādās sliedēs. bet vismaz tagad ir tāda sajūta, ka beidzot esmu izgulējis visu slikto, kas manī bija sakrājies. šodien jau jūtos daudz vieglāks.

a tā vispār es joprojām gaidu, kad ieraudzīšu savu īsto ceļu, jo baigi izteikta paliek tā sajūta, ka es eju pavisam nepareizā virzienā.

apsēdos uz palodzes, pīpēju un klausījos The Cult, skatoties kā gar manu logu lēnām un slaidi lidinās lielu, melnu putnu bars. the little pleasant things in life. lieliska sajūta, par spīti emocionālajam nogurumam.

gribas saprast, ko lai tagad dara. gribas atrast to īsto, sev piemēroto ceļu.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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