Journal

My thoughts are like a sleeveless shirt - absolute rubbish when it gets cold. Could someone please kindly turn off winter vibes? Pretty please? It's a bit difficult to concentrate when the sunlight is hiding, and when birds don't sing as loud as they do in summer time. Mind goes black as my feet struggle to stay warm in the super cosy warm socks. Memory seems to fail me in short term tasks, just like a summer dress fails to cover ones body. Sometimes I honestly wonder, how can they be called piece of clothing, when nothing is left for ones imagination? One can wonder, right?

I'm trying to write another journal. I've not done that for years now. But thoughts all just boil into a tasteless soup. Many years in the future, I think, I will wonder what the every-day life was like. I'll ponder about what my happiness levels were, and what my thought demons were up to. I want to have something to go back to. Something for myself to remind me how to pretend to be sane in times of madness. I want to have a droplet of hope when pain seems to overwhelm. Like some sort of survival guide, but not really. I want to remember forever what it's like to be me, I don't want to lose myself too much. As these years have passed, I have discovered that I'm not such a terrible person. One must always remain true to oneself, and one must have pride, but also be humble.

End of thought.
Night, night.

Kur paliek tās dvēseles, kas apmaldās?

Šķiet, ka pagājusi mūžības laika tiesa kopš pēdējo reizi te kas rakstīts. Kā gan dzīvē tā gadās, ka neilgā laika posmā viss šķiet pavisam savādāk. Kas tā bija par meiteni, kas te gadiem ilgi bārstija savus domu graudus? Kur gan noklīdusi viņas dvēselīte?

Ir vērtības, kas no tiesas nemainās. Tēja, kā vienmēr, patīk vairāk remdena kā verdoša. Ceļošanai parasti nav nepieciešams nekas daudz vairāk par ērtiem apaviem un pasi. Kaķi ir forši. Mūžīgi mācos.
Bet ir dziļš dvēseles miers, tas Violai, Lolai, Lanai (..) nekad nebija. Viņa nesaprata kā ir, kad ir forši pat tad, kad liekas, ka visa pasaule brūk un jūk. Viņa uztraucās par to zemi zem kājām, kas grima, bet ne par debesu loku, kas pēkšņi pavērās, kad uzplauka spārni. Viņai tie spārni laikam vēl nebija. Tie nāk ar gadiem.
Vienmēr ir tāds nemiers prātā un garā, bet es zinu kur atrodas labie emociju viļņi.

Atmiņu pērles

Sadrūp puteķu celi,

Izjūk smilšu pilis.

Kāds spārda manas atmiņu pērles.

Sāp(?)

Nesāp.

Es nezinu kā to sauc.

Sept. 2016

October

The damn time is playing an endless game with me. I just can not catch up. My skull is itchy. The white organic tea (my favourite(?)) is getting cold. The second chocolate chip cookie is lying next to me waiting to be consumed. The weather outside has noticeably gotten colder. When walking at night I see cars covered in water vapour. The sun would be long gone. The mountains that could be seen during the day are gone, almost as if they set with the sun. It's odd. Every year the seasons play this funky game with us, and every year we see it with new eyes. I wonder if this feeling that takes over is one of the good ones, or the ones that should be avoided. It's cold. But I suppose it doesn't necessarily have to be a negative thing. Right?

Sorry, not sorry. I tend to talk to myself like that.

The other day I remembered that a couple months ago I purchased a discounted mixer. That made me think that I would like to make a nice tiramisu cake. But then I remembered that I had purchased some form the shop not more than a week ago. So I decided to forget about that thought. But here I am going through the layers of my memory.

I keep reading these unending travel articles online. We do get the news that we ask for. As it seems, I have surrounded myself in everything travel related. It's my addiction. I can never get enough. They say it makes people happy.

And then this other article one of the most common regrets of dying people was that they wished they had traveled more. That makes me think it will be one off the list once I get older. But I don't really believe in regretting things. I am who I am because of what has and hasn't happened to me in my life so far. And every now and then I meet people that I feel embarrassed for and I think to myself how glad and happy, and lucky I am not to be like that. Sound a bit rude? Maybe arrogant? So what?Everyone is a little. At least I know I'm not perfect. And I am fine with it.

I thought this would be a constructive post, but I ended up babbling about everything and nothing all at the same time. Oh well.

All that because it's October.
Heck, it's October.

And no one woke me up when September ended.
Shame on you.

This Song

Some weeks ago I came across this song. I think it was playing in a shop or some pub. It washed over me like a wave. I know this song! I looked it up by the lyrics I heard. I was able to find the song, however where ever I was, the connection was very poor. So I took a cheeky screen shot on my phone. And today I came across this picture as i was browsing old stuff on my phone.
It's a song from 2005 by Röyksopp, a duet from Norway. This song gives me a magical sense. It touches the memory pearls like a mother would touch her newborn child. These memories are not tangible, but they are there, I just can't really see them. But i feel them. I feel a sense of wonder, and most definitely heavy nostalgia. It doesn't weigh me down, it leaves me wondering, as if I am in a fairy-tale. All this mystery makes me love this song. It's going on repeat.

Now playing: Röyksopp - What Else Is There

Janvāris.

Laimes dalīšana.
Kur man likt visu šo laimīti? Kaklā iekārt? Iebērt burkā, vai pienaglot pie sienas, lai neaizbēg?
Vēlos jums visiem novēlēt šo laimi, jo kur gan es viens pats ar tik daudz laimi likšos? Man nav vietas, kabatas plīst jau pušu. Un es gribu, lai visiem tiek neliela laimes kripatiņa. Gribu, lai katram tiek lērums laimes, lai iemirdzas prieks, vēl gaišāks kā Ziemassvētku brīnums. Es gribu iekrāsot pasauli vēl neredzētos toņos. Gribu, lai cilvēki redz, ka patiesai laimei vajag ļoti, ļoti nedaudz. Un vajag, lai ir grūti, lai katru dienu ir par ko cīnīties, jo tas dod vēlmi novērtēt visu labo, kas tev ir. Es tā gribu, lai tu saproti manu domu - lai nepārproti mani. Nekad nebūs viegli, ja gribi patiesu laimi, tev tā ir jāizprot un jānovērtē. Citādi, tā kā smiltis izskries caur pirkstiem.
Viss, es eju būt laimīgs.

"..un es palieku tumsā."

2015. gada 26. augustā

Lisabonā

Pazudusi

Kurp man mesties nemiera laikos?
Manī plosās nezināms spēks.
Es jūtu bezmiera dvēseles,
Tās vajā mani miegā.
Es izkrītu kā poga
Cauri palaga caurumiem.
Tie aizlāpas paši ciet
Un es palieku tumsā,
Es nevaru atgriezties.
Gumijas zābaki ūdens pilni.
Man neceļas kājas,
Nekustas rokas.
Brīžiem liekas, ka pat sirds stājas.