Wednesday, April 19, 2006

four weddings and a...

It’s hard being a person when you don’t know what is t that you really want and/or after you’ve finally gotten what you wanted, not knowing whether you truly really wanted it (or not?) in the first place…...

England pierced right through, tearing up everything that had settled and laid to rest. How many feelings can a human heart absorb before it can no more?

I did not bend my head in prayer under "the canopy of Fatherly love"; I refused to bend my head. My defiance of a sort. Because that canopy of love that sends you off all blessed is denying me everything - debating my whole existence.

We were told that the eternal quest in life is not about finding the right person; it is about being the right person... Right...

In the windy grayness of the city life rushed past silently. Nothing is new, everything has already been. It’s just that we were shiny and new back then.
Three years and I find the same sleepy little town, the same wind and rain, same Betty’s and same Queen Victoria shopping centre. But my heart made a leap at the sight of you.

Sometimes I find myself on the outside my own life looking in on something that will never be truly mine. Can a life ever be totally someone’s? Or are we just living out a template – doesn’t really matter what you wish for – someone’s got bigger plan. A better plan?

The past, just like the rain whipped in our faces as I said bye. I was being looked after. Well looked after, taken in under the canopy of sisterly love. You didn’t let go - thank you for not letting go.

The most amazingly beautiful thing about London that Monday morning, before my heart made a leap, was a black girl running down the street, coat flapping in the wind. I guessed she was late for work.

Thursday, April 06, 2006

make no mistake, my god is great

I walked past twice and the family was stricking up poses of marital bliss - first of a dinner in front of the TV (dad w/ a beer), and active mentoring of the offspring later.

That brought along the (existential?) guestion of my own marital bliss and brand new appartment. Where the fuck are they?
Where is it that I belong? Will I ever know. Does anybody know? And if they do, how does it feel?

Latvia hit me in the head with Soviet style shops, rude sales staff, idiot drivers and traffic arrangements way beyond comprehension.

WTF?
WTF?
What The Fuck?

Riga, you got to do waaay better than that. I'm expecting for you to do much better. Than that.