How different we are. Some bore down to the smallest details of the every day, so lost in themselves, until nothing is magical and everything is. And some look for some big amazing story to take over. And both ways give us hope.
And suddenly it’s a real winter. Snow on top of roofs, frozen grass that crackles under steps. For once I remember to change the clocks to wintertime, but wake up at eight anyway. Laundry, school work, I even work on the essays I’ve procrastinated with for six months. Two journal pages and the clock isn’t even twelve. I like today.
p.s. world vegan day goodness: post punk kitchen, pizarro comics and (naturally) vegan porn.
lovely lovely things:
nicole-is-online, brian cronin, ghostco, veera tiainen, johannes ekholm.
World vegan day is on Sunday.
The folks at veganfreaks nail it:
I feel sorry for you, one guy said, and the other followed up, seriously asking “Have you ever had real meat? You know, vennison? Bear? If you had any of that, you wouldn’t be vegetarian.”I told him that I had eaten vennison in the past, but that it didn’t do much for me (even when I liked meat) and that now, I’d not be into it either. But I was kind of taken aback by the question. I mean, I’ve heard a lot of comments from carnivores ignorant about veganism, but this one was certainly a new one. In that moment, I felt just a tiny bit of what I imagine a lesbian must feel like when she’s told that she’d be straight if only she got a good fuck from a man.
If I’d be inclined to steal a child I’d like this one. (now that came out wrong.)
got a package in the mail. went to see a weird movie. read to a test. wrote an essay. it is cold and wet and i don’t know where my winter shoes are. i forgot how much i dislike the finnish winter.
all these clever people who talk about things that don’t matter but make them funny, it keeps you entertained. and all these people to drink coffee with and let the time pass. and people you love but who never make you fall out of step, lose your balance.
but you fall asleep and forget. what is it like to want to tell every little story to someone? what is it like to yell on top of each other because… it actually matters? what is it like to listen. to really want to listen?
some days everyone i love is so far away.
i go to different places and find the same pictures on my camera. it’s funny, or scary, and finally i realise something about photography. last year we had this painting assignment in school, paint your mindview, which i never got done because i had no idea where to start. and now… i know.
what does your world look like?
days of the week lose their personality, become individuals, you never know what you get. the big yellow leaves, sunshine gets colder, i match my mittens with my shoes (pink). packages are sent and received, little things to sparkle days up, i need that. I am only getting to know this place, my part of the city, this home. maybe that is why everything feels a bit more, a bit striking, heavy. how to capture that? how to build everything from these little pieces in a way that is not escaping, but being happy, safe, real? and deal with the fear of falling. i try kaisa’s recipe: “i am always happy in the library.”