June 29th, 2011
Varbūt kāds zina kādu vietu Rīgā, kur notiek jogas nodarbības pilnīgiem iesācējiem? Ja vēl nebūtu dārgi, arī.
June 7th, 2011
|02:13 am - Shatter Me|
Have you ever wondered where did all the people go?
Maybe you don't even notice, as a whole city dies. The people live on, elsewhere, but the city dies. With an echo through all its surroundings, but there isn't a soul to notice.
Empty, but not soulless. It can still scare the hell out of me. I can clearly remember my first time, when I peeled myself off a floor of a broken, crushed building, all covered in dust - a ghost in a ghost town. Aggression was first to wash over me and just then the plain curiousity - my God, how did I come to this? Since then I've learnt to hear the cry. To follow voices and history. None of it matters to anyone, except maybe just me.
Wind undressed them stone by stone. Left nothing but broken bones. And kept on shattering glass. I know what it feels like now. To be left for dead.
Abandoned cities was a passion of mine, ever since I became a sleepwalker. Perfect by nature, ruined by the human world. That's a common excuse.
Unlike other people, my sleepwalking always took me far away to a city long lost and forgotten, left to completely disappear one day. They told me it was just my imagination, but all the dust and a couple of old maps convinced them I was for real. I started looking for places like that. For aggression and pain, mostly both. And then the calm feeling of acceptance. If I should ever be lost, my sleepwalking guided me through wake. It's great to close your eyes and know that next time you open them, you will find yourself at the birthplace of your peace. You can close your eyes and just be. All true and all you. And I reached the perfect balance of nature and the human world.
They told everyone I did it to myself. Every cut and bruise on my body screamed "lies", but it's never enough. People always claim to know only what they see, but really they don't know even that. In their simple mind I did it all, by myself, to myself. You know how sometimes the profile fits and they find your suicide notes at all the wrong moments. Cries for help lost in time, found and destroyed. One time I closed my eyes and woke up in a nightmare. Frightened and lost, wandering endlessly, trying to wish myself back into the lonely comfort of one of my dying worlds. But it's like they weren't even there anymore, as wasn't the radiant calm. The dust though, there was quite enough dust. Every cut on my body screamed "run", every bruise added "away". My mind was lost inbetween.
In the end, none of it matters.
Only the last drops of blood, my liquid serenity, reminded me, what the dead cities feel when they die. And the calm of acceptance flooded me in a wave.
May 28th, 2011
May 23rd, 2011
Do we really break all pretty things there are?
There is so much of NOTHING going on EVERYWHERE that I'm starting to love going to work.
Coffee + Bailey's, by the way, the bestest thing.
May 7th, 2011
|12:40 pm - Going Under|
Maybe I'll wake up for once.
Maybe not. But I have to try to be my own person, otherwise I will always be dragged down.
And then tonight, I'll write something. I know I will, I feel an idea.
Decisions, decisions. I hope I made mine and I hope it's right. Hope is all I've ever got.
May 1st, 2011
Best day ever.
After swearing and pulling tons of my hair out for daaays, I finally managed to get that database wonder working.
God help me with the writeups and stuff. Oh, and a report. And an exam. And I'm up for jury on Tuesday. Īk.
April 25th, 2011
|12:17 am - I don't need no education, no I don't|
So I finally find out about being drunk with the kind aid of a bottle of wine. To be really honest, it's completely overrated. Head spins, walking becomes really funny sometimes resulting in random towel hanger dysfunction, but the mind is still crystal clear inside that lame cage of a drunken body. There is no light, happy or otherwise liberating feeling. But there's definitely lots of motion sickness with a hint of a headache in the morning. So - why do people do that? What's the point in it?
At this moment I am so disappointed in life I could write an essay about it (with academic references, to be more suicidal).
Off the topic - I am planning to sell some clothes in June when I'm back home. Would anyone be interested in a 24" steel boned underbust corset in great condition, a really pretty unworn black silky blouse for girls about size 36, a lace cardigan of size 38 and perhaps a blue Chinese dress? Cannot provide pictures at the moment for the lack of a decent (non-phone) camera, but I will make some as soon as I'm home. Just want to find out, whether there is any interest at all in really good quality good-looking clothes that I cannot wear, because they don't really fit me.
March 14th, 2011
|02:27 pm - A bit more on math|
March 10th, 2011
|03:19 pm - Quote of the Day|
"xxx: Сидят три ряда. Вдруг один начинает сходиться. Другие ему: "Схождение без причины - признак Даламбера"."
December 8th, 2010