Riga!

In the past week or so I have been contemplating about my relationship with Riga. Yes, you understood that correctly! I feel like I have a love-hate things going on here, and I hope to tell you why it is that I feel this way.

When I returned home this summer, I thought that it is the absolute right thing to do, that it will make me and my friends and relatives happy. And so it did! But there is more to this seemingly simple skit. To begin off, I want to make it clear that I am happy to be able to see people whom I didn't see when I was abroad, I am happy to hear Latvian language on the streets, I am happy that I have a sense that I am where I belong, I am happy to play with my nephews, I am happy to roam the streets of this city of wonders.

And yet, there is a feeling of eternal sadness to this place. I was on the bus to work this evening and I was thinking about how it is possible to have such mixed feelings about a city (or anything really).

Why is it my home? It is where I was born, and raised as a child, at least most of my childhood. It is the place where I learned the primary human skills, walking, reading, loving, caring, language .. It is where I begun school. It is where I had my first boyfriend. Riga has always been the place where I can return, it was always the place where I was from, and there would always be things waiting for me. Almost every block in this city brings up countless memories that have made me who I am today. There have been sad days, events, happening, and quite the opposite. I have attended celebrations here, I remember that when I was a kid I was dragged through the old town on the 18th on November to see the fireworks. I recall drawing chalk drawings on the pavement in the park. I remember the adventures I had as a kid with my brothers, water-gun wars with other neighbourhood kids, playing in the backyard of our house, building snowmen in the winter, collecting  chestnuts after kinder garden, we did all kinds of pranks at home, and pissed off our parents. Oh, and how I loved playing with dolls and getting mad at my brother We had our first pet, we wanted one so badly, and then one end of summer there was a small kitty waiting for us at home. Then we grew, I grew, and the city grew as well. Things changed, and doing silly pranks was no longer timely, we had "bigger" and "better" things to do. School got more serious, friendships got more valuable, parents got wiser. Then came the first parties, first experiments, and serious things, like making science projects, attending extra curricular activities, etc.

And then I was gone for seven years, and during all this time Riga was my home, it made me proud to say that that is where I come from. So naturally it became more and more dear to, it was a special place, where everything would be great! That is why I returned here this summer, I returned here to stay here for good. But over this roughly half a year that I've been back I have realized something, the city isn't what I thought it was. It is a sad place, it grows memories like mushrooms. This made me wonder, how many memories can one place hold? I have a feeling that I have made myself believe that Riga is the place to be, but in reality, it isn't so, not at all. It is my personal pit hole, my doom. I want it to be more, I hoped and dreamed that it was bigger that it actually is.

Let's face it, Riga is just another city in the game of globalization, it is a small, tiny piece of the puzzle called world. It is hard to believe that I have fooled myself to believe that is is a magical place.

This is where the two world collide, this is where I do not know how much I really hate or love this city, my city. I get confused and it makes me frustrated.

Either way, I am here now, but as people have told me along the way, there is a huge possibility that I will not last here for long, I will want to run away again.

Love Hate

I hate going through old pictures. Reminds me of the olden days. The days when I thought life was difficult, if only I knew what was coming later on. I miss the recklessness, the carelessness. I miss being a child. Even though I still see myself as a child, the list of responsibilities has changed very much since when I actually was a child. It basically comes down to the crude basics, You know, I used to live under someone else's roof; I used to be fed. But now I have to make the so called important life decisions. It isn't even a choice thing, it's a must. I simply have to do what needs to be done. Plus, of course, I feed myself. I am no longer a pet. What an analogy!

Don't get me wrong, it is wonderful to live my own life. However, I strongly believe that I still need guidance. In my mind I really am just a child despite the fact that I am 20 yeas old (not for long though). I am a child even though I earn and spend my own money. I am a simple kid, a lost one, and in some way I never finished growing up. So how do I get that back? How can I lead myself when I don't know how it's done?

Blah woman, You make me sick. Grow a pair, will you?!

I Used to be Happy

It's quite sad to read my old, old posts and realize that the problems I had then are nothing compared to what kind of problems I have now. I used to pretend that my life was miserable because some guy never talked to me, even though I never even took the effort to talk to him. It's funny how perspective in life changes. It's interesting how we grow regardless of the achievements. We simply grow because of age. We grow old. I suppose this is what the grown-ups talk about when You're a kid yourself. The tables have turned now. And now I have to be a grown-up and say that when I was a kid.... It's odd to grow up. I mean in a way we all remain as kids, but we are mature kids.

 We all are kids with experience.

Thanks for the memories

-Do you ever think?
-I think all the time.
-Really? What do you think about?
-Everything.
-If that would be true, then there wouldn't be coffee all over your table, floor, and your soul.
-What can I say, at least it's good coffee.


Moving is a pain in the ass. I'm not usedd to this place, this setting in general. Further more, as bad as I feel about it, I do not want to get used to this. Living with an other family is harder than I thought. Plus the hardest part is that I know these people, not that they are a family. That didn't come out right. Let's try again. The hardest part in moving in with a family that you know is not that they are a family, but that you know them. Who am I kidding, the family part is breaking my nerves as well. The KID! OMFG!! As much as I like their parents, and, to a certain extent, him (the child), he can be a real tourture. First of all him going to bed, for certain there will be tears and crying, i.e. your movie night - ruined. The child is a spoiled rat. From what I hear, the parent actions could be backed up with certain past events, and things that they all have gone throuh. But what is going on here is a bit TOO much. The kid gets a new toy every time anyone goes to a store. Most of the time it is something small, like a car, a new sword, etc. But for fucks sake, how is the child going to learn to live? Everytime he sheads a tear that he wants to go to the store, guess what happens? The family goes shopping. This kid, so far, has learned that to impress people you need new things. For example, a new scary mask to frighten people. Further more, as you probably imagined, it doesn't stop there. This kid has more shoes than his mother. Plus he eats dinner (or any other meal, for that matter) ONLY because he WILL get a sweet afterwards. If the kid sees a cartoon where someone is having a birthday party, the next day there is going to be a cake in the house. Thank god it's nothing specialy ordered.
Obviouusly the kid misses his gradparents and family that are back in Latvia, and he has no FrIeNdS, so parents try to compensate that by buying crazy amount of toys.

By the way, it's the classic story, the kid gets a new toy, he plays with it for a few minutes, an hour tops, and then it is forgotten.

Oh, and this kid has this thing, where he says "i don't like it" (it latvina, of course). He uses his cute voice and he tells it in a manner that makes it sound like he is in pain. When ever he says it (about 100 times a day), his parents drop everything an dgo right to him to find out what it is the kid dislikes, and then, no matter how redicilous the thing is, they try their best to defeat the obstacle. You might wonder what kind of things they are, well for instance, he might not like the toy in the happy meal that he got, or he got tired of the cartoon that he was screaming for five minutes ago..

Well, i'm done. It's my day, and I'm having the morning and afternoon only to myself. Watching old seasons of Two and a Half Men, THINKING about taking a shower, burning food and setting the fire detector off, spilling coffee everywhere, and missing important calls.

Yeah life is great!

Optimistic

So much for the positivism that you wear each day like an old pair of socks. So much for being a good friend, when you're the one who leaves everyone behind while on a possibly final journey. You're a disgrace to human kind. You don't know where to stop. You fly in your dreams like a dragonfly. You can then stop and think; you can stop the time. No, wait, here goes another truth, it's not the time that's running, it's us. We never stop growing old. Take a breath, we're all young. We like to think otherwise because we are meant to grow up, that's what the society pushes on you. One should never stop dreaming like a child, one should always find happiness in little things. One should cry his/her eyes out if another homo sapience has done harm (physical or emotional). We should never lose the simplicity of love. It's wonderful to think of your dear ones as angels walking on the planet of earth. One should think of swearing as a terrible sin, that leads you into suffering. Bad words are followed by bad actions, we all know that. We should all, at least visually stay pure as the holy water. We must not forget that there's monsters hiding under the bed and in the closet.

We must stay brave, dream big dreams, and never give up on ourselves!

"Jāj pa ceļu pasaciņa."

Pastāsti lūdzu man pasaciņu par ziliem ziloņiem, brēcošām govīm un uzzīmētiem kaķēniem. Esmu vēl bērns, tā kā raugi, lai pasaks beigas ir gaišas.

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