About Friends

Dec. 5th, 2021 @ 05:50 pm
Lūgties un celt reliģiju drīkst tikai tie kas saprot, ka dievu nevar sastapt. Savādāk proces kļūst par sektu.

Dec. 5th, 2021 @ 04:40 pm
Vai jūs esat ievērojuši, cik latviešu vīriešiem ir plāna āda? Es vēl tikai iesildos, bet viņi jau skrien sūdzēties pie tēta.

Dec. 5th, 2021 @ 01:03 pm
Let's be real. Man piemērotākais sunītis būtu čivauva.
Mazs, mīlīgs, velnišķīgs!
Ar superjutīgu garastāvokļa barometru.

Dec. 5th, 2021 @ 12:59 pm
Simo: šī ir tā pati diena, kad es vēmu no adventes kalendāra #3

Dec. 5th, 2021 @ 10:24 am
Uztaisīju ķermeņa svara indeksa kalkulāciju. Ja nokritīs vēl viens kg, tad būšu kategorijā "underweight". Galvenais, ka tie kg krīt nost paši no sevis. Toch vajag tās kartupeļu pankukas ar speķi un lasīti, tad vēl kkādu desertu ar saldo krējumu vai hvz ko.

Dec. 5th, 2021 @ 10:19 am
Vot šodien tieši paiet gads kopš dzīvoju viena. Tātad - pirms gada šai dienā smagi pūlējos krāmēt mantas utt. Tas ir iemesls svinīgām vakariņām. Piemēram, tās varētu būt kartupeļu pankūkas.

krītu ni lētumaDec. 5th, 2021 @ 01:47 am

Dec. 5th, 2021 @ 01:33 am
Kad es domāju par izjukušām draudzībām un pārdzīvojumiem šajā sakarā, es parasti atceros šo grāmatu.

Lāgiem man izdodas domāt, ka nekad neesam viens otru pazaudējuši. Ka viņš vienkārši ir tikai nomiris./ Paskāls Mersjē "Nakts vilciens uz Lisabonu"

Dec. 4th, 2021 @ 04:35 pm
Daudz laimes, Barbara!

Dec. 5th, 2021 @ 12:01 am
Nenormīšu ir tik daudz, ka viņi izskatās pilnīgi normāli un parasti. Droši vien, ka nepieciešams pielikt arvien lielākas pūles, lai atrastu jaunu ekscentrisma un progresīvisma šķautni.

sarkanais rimi vs zaļais rimiDec. 5th, 2021 @ 12:50 am
Kādā krāsā ir jūsu mīļākais Rimi?

ze futureDec. 4th, 2021 @ 11:29 pm
After ditching the BMW, I kill time by entering, illicitly, into what seems to be an Italian deli. I am not checked as it is packed within and without and, without warning they strike up some surging burst of opera - you can hear the heartbeat - the common sanguine knowledge - as the melodies crash upon the window and mill about in passionate turbulence among hanging meats - the light in the store the kind of faded blue you see in old film.

Dead now, bled.

Didn’t have any credit in the palm, but I did have some Cash, which for a laugh I thought I would use to buy a ticket from a human woman working in the train station. No one can have done that all this century - they even look at me like I am a retard or a tourist as I approach their desk. I couldn’t care less - but she turns up her nose so much that a male colleague has to take over. ‘Cash’ she mutters as she retreats to the arrangement of sleek 4IR equipment, “and I’d like to know where you got it from?”

As though it were a virus I’d picked up.

“You don’t remember when we used to use it?” I say, flicking through the notes - almost antique now - and not worth much - this yellow 100-Yuro note barely holding enough water to take one of the veins into the Capital.

He deals with me okay even though I don’t even know where I want to go - but it is a dream, don’t you know.

End up in Fakenham - you can’t get there by train, so I had had to get a lift from a pagan who said he’d spent a week at the local school, which was according to the information he gives in an asthmatic wheeze, “a fucking mental institution.” He let me out in the car park opposite the fish and chip shop, which all those years ago I had stared at while my daughter had her first period and my mother contracted cancer. “And look at the state of the asphalt”, he spluttered. It’s like a still of a fucking storm at sea.” As if the material world is warping to accommodate our madness.

The cafes in the high street, which used to be normal, are now just for bums and the chronically ill. The toilets are beyond disgusting, and the conversations at the tables I pass are, I assume in my self-conscious way, being tilted at me like two bow fingers. I don’t have a pass anyway, so the loss of appetite is a relief.

I find them later - the ones I was looking for from the past. They are in the communal hall with old collective emotions surging through them, articulating the things we used to do in our youth - like a laugh, and a swig, and a fag, plunging baselines and riffs looping out of the current and cavorting round the bend - and ghostlike arms on drunken shoulders: just spirit. I try to divine for something, but the rods in my hands don’t move: just the room - it starts to swirl around me.

And even writing that has got me charged in the ether. Something that, I assume is not picked up in the register. Do they have the physics to understand it? Would it help if I had been impregnated with the sensor?

The future has the same amount of mystery. It conceals at the same rate it reveals as the skirt hunter 33 Grade FreeMason, Dave, told me between puffs of fag smoke on a Riga terrace.

So the next part I will keep to myself.

You join me now in the blue of the pre-dawn. The stars are a frozen frenzy and the boughs creak and stoop with white. In the hallway of a house that doesn’t belong to me the Neo-platonic busts are illuminated, and some stirring of Wagner’s prelude to the Ring is in the air. I enter a room and there is a human woman alluring in medical white. Some people called in my head with some technology you don’t have yet - a JG and KW. There is some joke I am not in on, but she - all curves and understanding - requires my presence on a massage bed. No way, darling, even though the Morning Stag is engorged: she was going to break my neck. Sex and convenience is always a trap. You can see why the Holy Men escaped to the desert. It is your soul they want, the sovereignty of your soul.

I never entered into an initiation ceremony. At least not knowingly.

“Lucky you got out,” says the Pagan as he wakes me with a kick outside the chippy. “Some cunt of a poet was trying to find truth by getting words to rhyme - and you, you had your hand up someone’s arse, while he had his up yours: both of you were singing from one of them two fecking scripts, like tweedledum and tweedledee. For a while anyway. There then followed - and this was in some tributary of information streams you don’t have yet - some discussion of the Words of Lawyers, or Liars, or Layers of Stones - the law was common anyway.”


He coughs, looks at his watch and suggests we leave before some crow alights looking to conjure up pleasures for some fizz, and my horse turns into a dog, and back into a horse and so on.

Dec. 4th, 2021 @ 11:11 pm
Galvenais, ka Tu spogulī neskaties.

Dec. 4th, 2021 @ 08:11 pm
pirms vairākiem gadiem Ingmārs mums (ar viltu) dabūja kristiešu gredzenus ar uzrakstu "īsta <3 gaida". es savu, protams, kaut kur, ar bērniem ņemoties, ātri vien pazaudēju. dzīvoju bez un mazliet škrobojos par to, cik labs tāds gredzens.

šodien biju ciemos pie saviem kreiso radikāļu draugiem palīdzēt uzšūt Ziemassvētku zeķi - viņu meitiņai skolā vajadzēja - mācu viņai, kā šuj, un viņa skatās man uz pirkstiem un prasa, kas tie par gredzeniem. saku, ka tie manu vecmāmiņu gredzeni un ka mana vecmāmiņa mani mācīja vispirms šūt, tikai pēc tam burtus pazīt. un ka man bija arī trešais gredzentiņš - paga, kas tur bija virsū rakstīts.. "gribu tevi" vai kaut kas tāds. un viņa man saka - "īsta mīlestība gaida!" es tādu atradu piemājas laukumiņā! Tieši tajā, kur es to visticamāk pazaudēju. un viņa saka - es tev iedošu piemērīt un, ja tev der, tad ņem! tā nu es tiku pie Ziemassvētku brīnuma.

un tas viss dienā, kad Krišjānis aiziet no cibas!

Dec. 4th, 2021 @ 07:01 pm
kustība nevis "ir veselīga", bet rada realitāti, cilvēki

Dec. 4th, 2021 @ 04:02 pm
Interesanti vai noteikums "neliec elkoņus uz galda" ir joprojām aktuāls.

Dec. 4th, 2021 @ 10:34 am
Kā var ziņās kopā salikt, ka ar Omikronu vairāk inficējas vakcinētie cilvēki, un tajā pašā laikā paziņot, ka NHS atņems laiku, lai dīlotu ar parastām cilvēku saslimšanām, lai ārstiem būtu vairāk laika vakcinēt cilvēkus.

Doublethink at its finest an noone bats an eye!

Šo ir tik ļoti grūti un rūgti, un savā ziņā nepiespējami aptvert, bet šis notiek.

Eižena pilnmetrāžaDec. 4th, 2021 @ 12:10 pm

Dec. 4th, 2021 @ 10:39 am
Kas par ārprātu.

Dec. 4th, 2021 @ 02:25 am

Skatoties uz šobrīd notiekošo vājprāta sacensību starp Minsteres anabaptistu otro, papildināto izdevumu un entropijas kultu (linki nav nepieciešami), varu tikai pievienoties šī anonīmusa viedoklim:

No [info]saka_taisniibu2 sarakstā uzskaitītajiem 18 punktiem kategoriski nepiekrītu 8, ar niansēm nepiekrītu 7 un ar niansēm piekrītu 3, līdz ar to mana attieksme pret pirmo nenāk no akla principiāla antagonisma, bet gan no vispārīgām antipātijām pret putojošiem fanātiķiem un specifiskiem iebildumiem pret jau n-tās reizes iztirzātiem desiderata. Par manu attieksmi pret otro man, domājams, pēdējo dienu gaismā nav neko papildus jāpaskaidro.

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