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These days are nothing but the strange shades of grey hanging from the big hands of sky. We accept our destiny around here, without any angry complaints and move slowly inside the meaningless colours as our breathing becomes visible and what do you know, it is grey, it is grey. I am tired, like I always am at this time of the year and the x-mas lights that grow around me in this dangerous jungle of shades give me no consolation, they strangle me, force me to meet the stare of the loneliness. Like I knew. I knew.
The work I do does not give me any satisfaction. But it gives me money. Should I be grateful about that? Or even happy? Does the situation make me want to rejoice? Does it? Hell, no. It is only a question of surviving and I hate it. I think it´s unbelievably pathetic. It only means that I have a very pathetic life. No wonder the Buddhist stuff gets my attention. Something needs to be done. If I only knew what. When I get desperate enough I will do something and then I regret it later. I am pathetic.
I can still hear the chanting when I get back home. I wonder if I am going to another meeting, wonder if they can give me what I want. Quite pointless waiste of time, I realise, since I don´t know what I want. Well, maybe I do, but I am scared of those things because I kind of can´t believe that I could deserve any of it. I can´t think of myself as a good person, I usually consider myself as a loser.What´s the point in wanting something if you already have lost it?
I wrestle unwillingly with huge thoughts of the meaning of life.I am losing the fight, under the strain of dark matter. The meaning of life is always something dark, never something with yellow, orange or relaxing green colours on it. I have a dark pattern in me and it repeats itself from cradle to grave. Marks my words with the damp stupidity. I am fed up with myself and I can see it. But I just keep on pretending to be stupid. I fool myself but only for a second or two and then it is gone.
The weather has been quite cold this week. The freezing winds bring ice into our hearts straight from Siberia. I stay inside, have a hot shower and then bury myself into a spicy food and a bucket of ice cream. I am the woman of strange choices. If I am a woman, a fact that I am starting to forget in this cold, dark weather. You are forced to wear so much clothes these days that it is impossible to tell who is inside, under the thick clothes. Is it a man? Or a woman? A mouse? Perhaps.
The huge, brown eyes of the dogs are very comforting. And when you talk to them they swep the floor for you. Just like that. Life with animals can be very simple, ay. We have celebrated our independence by eating and by walking the dogs. The weather is cruel and it pinches your cheeks so hard you could just throw yourself onto the ground and hit the mother earth with your fists again and again and again... But I cannot force myself to do it. I just follow the dogs and push myself through the air. Enjoy the walk.
The river of huge, plastic shopping bags follow you around, no matter where you go. They flow smoothly among the endless x-mas lights, bring you joy and misery... sooner or later. Countless are the unwanted gifts that are left in the back of the closet for the years to come! Compulsory shopping is the meanest of the diseases and we will rot the earth with it. I hate x-mas. (But I like the empty X-mas Eve streets in the city.) I give gifts to people when I feel like it, not when I am supposed to.
The mother of the winner dog was exhausted but happy as we sat in a half empty bar. It was snowing slowly on the other side of the window. The bartender was friendly and kept us in beer. Slightly drunk we talked about the Dog who is the junior of the year, men and their asses, future, pros and cons of the countryside, life, would-be boyfriends, grandmothers, long lost friend who was taken away by an asshole boyfriend, and the ancestors who knew how to kill a wife with an axe in the bathroom.. Long time no see.
My chamber feels empty like me when I finally get home exactly at quarter to nine. All the years I have lived the life of a nun feel like a heavy burden on my aching Monday shoulders. What the hell am I supposed to do? (To chant Nam-Myoho-Renge-Kyo?!) (To get pissed?) (To go nuts?) The conversation with a friend last night left a splinter of loneliness into my brain. Now I´m unable to get rid of it, I´m doomed, miserable, unable to do a thing. I am empty hole in the cheese of life.
Oh, moody me. I am impossible to follow. Period. Even for myself. But it doesn´t make a lot difference in this darkness. In two weeks the days are getting longer again and I wish I can get rid of this black, invisible planket that is thrown over my head. To hell with Scandinavia! Which reminds me of an Icelander I once met and he said that he will laugh to hell after this country. Very, very interesting point of view where I am standing. But it would be interesting to visit Iceland. In the next life. Sweet dreams.
Suddenly I found unbelievable wineglasses from the flea market nearby. They have a shy, sweet, gentle, fragile rosy tint to them. I cannot believe that such a color exists. - The old, pathetic painter in me woke up, suffering from hangover of course, but she raised her head. - Amazing colour of the western sky: just after the sunset.(The west has always been my favourite.) Can´t wait to drink from those glasses. Heaven knows when I can afford to buy a bottle of wine. Next year, or the year after that. But I have the rosy glasses now.
I got so much common sense that I could drown myself into it. Maybe I should. Maybe I could do a favour to the world. To the people around me anyway. I don´t know. Seeing K after a long pause made me confused. He acts like a hurricane. By the time you have a cup of coffee and two sandwiches with him you are sucked into the eye of the tornado. My common sense made me sad after the storm died away. I wish I could be more reckless, like a hippie, kind of a fool, untrustworthy.
I managed to keep up the appearances at work, it was a long, long evening, though. I printed out some stuff about the Buddhist movement I “met” personally a while ago. I still enjoy the story of a guy who complained that he did not have any luck with women and that he was so lonely. He started to chant
and in no time he called his friend and complained that all the women were harassing him. Poor guy. You should be careful what you wish, it might actually come true. To chant or not to chant? Sigh.
I gave myself one cider after work. Quite luxurious evening. The law office I was cleaning was full of mud and my muscles are sore and disappointed about this weekend. What can I tell them? I need the money. I crave for sleep, I think I crave for something else, too, but I cannot exactly put my finger on it right now. It slipped my mind, escaped through my fingers, got washed away with rain, fell to the ground, got broken. Not a fixable idea, just a thought and now it´s gone. I empty myself to the bottle.
Coffee and curry.
I bought myself a Christmas present. Well, two actually. A coffee maker and a huge kettle. So now I drink coffee as I make plans to make a lentil soup with red lentils, garlic, chili garlic, curry, coriander, clove, ginger, cinnamon, black pepper, red pepper,white pepper, green pepper, paprika, salt, chopped onion and butter.. The grocery store downstairs did not have the grounded coriander and I am very disappointed. (I wanted the coriander to relax my muscles.) Too lazy to go out again. It must be made without the narcotic coriander. That´ll be just fine.
The full moon effect does its magic already. Some serious troublemakers are on the move. Weird, weird people. -- During my years as a cleaner I noticed that the bloody days of women follow exactly the same circle with moon. Trash bins are practically empty for three weeks and then, just after the full moon, all the office rats bleed... Never underestimate the power of moon. The thought that big part of woman population has PMS at the same time is a bit scary actually. Thank God there are thousands of ways to mess with your bloody hormones these days.
I recognise your way to walk at the railway station easily. I choose not to talk to you, since I fear we both just panic like hell. The tension is unbearable, you give my guts electric shock just by entering the scene. We have the same uncurable disease and it is written all over our faces. I am sad and relieved as you vanish to subway and I run to tram. I am slave to my own fears and I admit it. I look unhappy in my reflection, just like the other passengers. I have started an epidemic.
Pores of moon fascinate me as I take out the garbage. Almost my last thoughts as I try to walk on the black icy ground of the back yard. I walk half a cigarette walk to next block and drop a fresh newspaper to the Grand Old Lady who lives there. I crave for a long walk but I change my mind as soon as I can. At home I am unable to concentrate to “Night of the living dead”. I listen to it with one ear. The other one is somewhere else, I don´t know where.
Why do everyone give me chocolate for Christmas? Do they think it replaces the man? Or sex? Why do people give me gifts anyway? It feels a bit embarrassing. I give no gifts this year. None. Zero. I have had it with Christmas. I will buy lots of red wine with the money I have left and I will be tipsy and sleepy for three days. I´ll be as antisocial as I can and switch off my phone. You can all go to hell as long as I´m concerned. I am tired and I need the rest.
I realised it later, in my own bed, long after the darkness had fallen and the wind had started to blow harder. The sight of your profile in the dim room was like a starting scene of a fine nightmare. I felt like you were sinking in the quick sand and slowly vanishing from my sight. I cannot grab your hand if you don´t ask for my help. I am helpless in that way. I will lose you even before I got you. And the screaming without a voice is useless like always in a proper nightmare.
It came suddenly, like out of nowhere. It´s been a while and in a way it feels good to cry, just cry, shake all over and cry your eyes out. Yeah, I surely robbed the tear bank, did the river, wet the pillows. Then I fell asleep, in the middle of it, wondered in the morning “what the hell was that all about?” - I took my huge planket to the laundry, did some cleaning for the Grand Old Lady then I took my planket back home. A little Christmas concert in the evening. Nice but boring. No crying.
Christmas Eve #1.
Even more presents for me. I hardly know why. Now I own three little bears crying on my window sill. They are the only pieces of art I have but I love them. The man who makes them used to be a pilot but I think he is magnificent as an artist. The bottle of red wine was definitely what I needed. After the work tomorrow I get the rest I need. Go(o)d! I need to gather my strength for another stupid year I am not very keen to see. Nothing to wait for. Nothing.
I thought I was going to put the rest of my money to wine but then, in a shock I noticed that there is definitely too much money on my bank account. I found the person who was quilty of the crime on a second try. We had the basic Christmas talk on the phone and I decided to buy more presents for myself... Then I finally got a chance to open one of the bottles of wine and started the stupid Christmas. It´s very cold. Santa is going to freeze his ass this year. Poor bastard.
The city is getting empty, quiet. I wonder if I do a little walk in the evening, just to see all the drunken Santa Clauses wandering about. It´s unbelievably cold out there, I bet they all get a lot of booze in the homes they visit. I remember what kind of a show it was when I was a kid. At least they never fell into the Christmas tree then.. Yeah, and all the brats of the world try to behave themselves at this very day. And maybe tomorrow, too. Merry Chistmas. If it makes any difference.
The breezeless afternoon holds me near the windows.The soft, lazy snow flakes move slowly towards the ground. The scene is like a trick of the mind, accidentally brought to you via synapses of the brain. When the magic flakes meet the ground they sight in delight, melt in a day or two and vanish into the dark soil. And the biggest mother of all, the Nature, holds them there, takes good care of them in the circle of tricks. Maybe they come back, some day, after many years of time as a new crop of Christmas trees?
Cogito, ergo sum?
I thought something as I walked through the cemetery. Nothing but strangers buried there, just like the people I meet. I stared the icy sea with a cigarette in my hand, probably stopped thinking for a while, too, so I stopped being myself for a moment. No one really noticed, hardly myself. I navigated among the lighted candles, felt the tall trees around me, bowed before eternity and remembered the one who is still worth remembering. I asked her some questions, take your time, you will answer when you have a chance between the parties of heaven.
I doubt if Cupido enjoys his work, gets any satisfaction out of it. How good does it make you feel to shoot people with arrows, straight through their hearts? It´s a bloody job if you ask me! He chooses his victims randomly, like he was blinded by the sleeve of his pyjama as he does his deeds of love. Love is a potential trouble knocking on your shoulder the second the arrow hits your chest. In spite of this, I hope my friend, whose name is literally ‘arrowheart’, meets with the accident in the form a tiny arrow.
My friend has pretty bad symptoms of burn out because of trying to save the world. Well, the homeless at least. It´s not a clean indoor job I´m afraid. She talks with murderers and drug users every night and she says she loves them! At least once a day someone wants to kill her. I don´t know if my self-esteem could handle a job like that.. My friend might have a self-esteem problem, too. She is the kindest person I know and she doesn´t quite appreciate herself. She is too modest. Oh, boy.
All right. About the self-esteem issue. There are days when my confidence with myself is high in the sky and nothing can stop me. I have faith in whatever I am doing at the moment. The next thing I know is that the feather of doubt has hitted me and I crawl deep down in the mud and practically want to kill myself... Yes. I am a living roller coaster. Who would want to live with a woman like that? It would a pain in the ass! Nobody needs that. What was I thinking? Naah, never mind.
This winter really sucks. It´s over 20 Celsius degrees all the time. When you mix it with the freezing wind it´s 30 degrees. How horrible to wake up in the morning and walk to the tram stop in a weather like that. Pure, simple torture. Buddha was definitely right. Life is a pain in the ass. I wonder if he ever visited Scandinavia? -- A wonderful, crazy, regular customer saved my day after all. I am tired, cold and numb but I think I have a smile hidden somewhere in me. Fetch! Good dog. Have a cookie. Wuf.
I actually thought I was about to write a half angry 100 words about the next year being just another face in the stupid crowd and that I was not very keen to see it.. You just came and ruined it all. Now I might have something to wait for considering next year. You move me towards something, steady and slowly, I don´t even know what it is. So I drink something little in the candle light, answer sms-messages, smile without a reason and dream dreams wide awake. You wake up my soul, my skin. You bastard.
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