statements back

"After careful calculations I've decided that percentage of the days when I am a mess is more than and average human being." 

But actually this is not true. As a statistic living person I like garlic as much as anyone else, sometimes I wear my woolen socks with summer shoes, though just inside, I drink a healthy amount of water and brush my teeth. I vacuum when it is necessary and I can concentrate on reading for 45 minutes. Buy flowers for myself and read out-loud for myself. I buy pack of chips and eat half of it on my way back home. I like watching people passing by and think how do they tie their shoe laces, I have somekinda schedule for the week but I really like to postpone things for a little but more. I check my social networks to see if someone gave a lousy appreciation like or a heart, or anything. Not like it matters a lot, but it becomes just one of those habits like social smoking or saying "mmm" when you eat a delicious meal. 

As a statistic person I am no much more special than no one else. And I am not weirder, or a bigger mess, or a genius, or a talent. And neither is anyone else. My belief in measurement scale of those things just evaporated and became non-existent. It is empowering to think that you are something more than others, but in the same time you could just believe that an onion is sweeter than sugar and you could be right, somebody had to make some sort of measure of sweetness. Llama with a turbano could be as good house pet as a pug, and to be honest way cuter, however it is how it is. 

And all I have to do is to take my statement of being a mess back. I am not. Just a little portion as well as anyone else. I suppose. 

I might take this one back as well, but not yet. 

how much?

the measure of stability is not a measure of heaviness.

I've been counting my belongings. I lost the count twice or three times. I've tried to decide what to throw out but I sincerely believe that I am not good at throwing things, people or emotions out. Not even sure if I want to be good at that. So I keep the weight.

I tried to forgive and forget. Managed the forgive part but never accomplished to forget.

Tried to sell things to others, but maybe the attachment to it reduced the price without words. It became secretly "never ever possible to belong to others". Tried to give away and that worked out, however, every time I met my belonging it would look to my eyes and send me signals "How could you do this to me?!"

It is not the belongings that make me feel stable and peaceful. It is a lack of them. And a constant cycle of things out and in. in and out.

now I count my peace. I loose the count twice or three times.

I never care

Stimulation and Simulation

Controlled movements force the pressure towards body and cause a rapid vibration starting from capillaries to veins, from veins to arteries, from arteries to heart, from heart back again. Convulsively pushing and pulling, with the highest voltage included. Sinking in an unconsciousness, losing the basic control over the limbs and the mind. Disturbing the breathing routine and causing a sense of fainting. An instant flush of heat and energy rush. Blurring out. Fading away. Prolonging the moment with confirmation of I can I will. I want. I desire. I urge. I can. I will. I need. I lust. Basing on simple stories and creating more complex. Framing the situation in the cotton meaning frames and sending it to the transaction department. Flushing red, white and black colours down ones mind and gathering irrelevant idioms to determine the situation. Trying to find the most suitable name and keep it in a high level of interest. Simulate and Stimulate. Arouse a response. Arouse and keep it hot till the dinner. Turn on and off, and then turn on again. Brightness flashing in the speed of light. With two fingers on a switch and two in mouth. Electric shock and energy leak.

 

Sensitivity and Sun

Sensitivity and Sun.
Sensitivity and Sun.

Sensitivity and Sun.

  Circulating around and exercising body. Sensitivity and Sun. Stretching skin, kissing whispers of eyelashes, planting smile all over mysterious lands, singing in a romantic melody and whistling while I try to fall asleep. 

Sensitivity and Sun.

So much love to give, just come and ask for it.

Sensitivity and Sun.

I exhale those words as ocean exhales waves and splashes, as mountains exhale avalanches. 

Slowly spreading mist in your ear and getting lost in arms of forest and thoughts of fields.

Sensitivity and Sun.

Take me

Where you can be Sensitive and I can be Sunny

Structure me

Again, floating with no actual need to float, I'd better sink down. Freakishly hard to state anything yet. It is like waiting for a diagnosis. Nor there, nor here. And the problem is - one couldn't say that the mood is bad or joyful. Either way, that would be just a lie. The mood is inconsistent. Unstable. Something annoying is hurting with little spikes. Hurting my back and at the same time spreading small impulses through my neurons and getting deeper in my muscles. But it never causes not even a slight sense of anger. No anger... too bad.

One minute body is standing still with a thought of a sudden collapse. However, that collapse never comes. It's been a long long time and nothing had changed. Nothing was triggered to change. Nothing was made differently to change. The structure just standing waiting to collapse, disseminate. Clutter collectively gathers around and ones body becomes a waste yard. 

Really, haven't figured out how a person can be so disappointed of ones life line and still be a life lover at the same time. It happens. But nothing changes and I am pretty sure it is just because one haven't made a proper step to change it. Structure me because one step forward and two back don't work anymore. Nor body nor brain learn from mistakes. Especially heart. What a heck is matter with that muscle? It supposed to work properly but when head is tricking heart and other way round I have to wait for diagnosis. Impatiently. I packed my bags already, I left, I came back. Why?

And yet trying to calm down magically repeating "You'll be just fine, You'll be just fine, I'm not gonna do anything about it". That must be it. I'm not doing anything about it. Act or forget, you'd say. Bullshit, nor action nor trying to forget helps. I'll take another chance and screw all the opportunities I had, I have or I will have. If I can't get anger naturally I'll build it up. I couldn't be mad on you. But that's not the issue. I couldn't be mad on myself. The tender and carrying heart. Fuck it, really. Why?

It's all because of that book by Ayn Rand.

I don't know if anybody feels the same way. I don't know what the way it is. But god help me to figure out if it is just my silly head or it is a usual thing. Neither way would help me, but at least I could try to compete and get it all straight. And clear, and clean. That's how I like it. Please, structure me. In all positive ways.

CHRIS ROUND pertinent structure photography. You can find and learn more about it here

Ups&Downs

Today mixed up with a handful of mud and handful of sand. 

On all those peaks and in all those valleys.

Surreal.

Hi.

You should just always remind yourself that they get just better with time. Just that.

Small thing

Music is on and tea is ready.

It's just a small thing.

Not in the mood to rattle on mindless things and ready to get going. 

There are few things that I have to do. And I better start now. 

Suddenly, I was immersed by unpredicted energy, slightly wicked courage and complete relaxation. 

It felt like those nights before important test in primary school, when you knew that you will be actually able to pass that test and even hit the top 10 in class. 

Boom. 

In your faces 9 year olds.

See you later. In some time.

 Mood - denim blue.

Small piece of blue denim.

 

 

Coward

Coward. Almost a week when I am back into the place where I have to make an effort to actually have something and all I did so far is couple of great dinners and a spice storing jar. You could be brilliant but you are a coward. Not counting that I can hardly concentrate onto my goals because of the blurry vision and pulsing because of fever forehead. Coward. However it would be, things got to get moving, and if my or your ass is stuck between the idleness' stones then no movement is predicted for neither of us.
First of all, coping with a leaking nose and annoying coughing and at the same time the mess in my home I'll try to build myself several stages for achievement. And giving up is not a choice. Otherwise... Coward. And when all the stress and irritation reaches my fragile self-control then there are just few ways to fix it. 

And again not knowing where you are going is not the reason to stop. Coward.

Mood:white, changing my sheets, changing my activities. 

Well hallo

I've been putting tiles nicely to make some ornaments around.

To make some magic circles.

To make some spells that would work.

To make something work.

So far so good.

Stress tolerance have been learned from books.

Just time goes too slow. 

I've learned some patience.

Now I know how to wait for a bit.

And a bit more.

Counting hours, days and weeks.

Well hallo.

Raspberry pie and dignifying kisses.

 slightly falling for.

not to jinx it

Whole Grain Lose Brain

Cornflakes and yoghurt with Einstein. 

Champagne instead of real pain. 

Valuable intellectual gain. Whimsical, giant crush on a spring. 

At the same time insane.

Whole grain bread and vein. Vein filled with rain.

Friend on a plane. Tomorrow. I already feel left alone. 

My lose brain that I draw on the paper. That I draw on intentionmodelofopportunityperception. Like a ball of yarn, like a small target. Listening the same song for a millionth time. I could listen even more. The reason why is not that a song is beautiful. Listening one melody keeps your thoughts flowing the same rhythm the same direction. Listening keeps you thinking. Just few more lines to write. I'll be alright. I was laughing today in the morning. I wish to laugh with that slightly blushed face everyday. Listening one melody makes you dream more. Listening to the same heart beat makes you insane. In the room, where sound is isolated 99,99%, person can survive up to 45 minutes. Then one gets insane of the same rhythm. Same ticking blood and muscle bomb. Same pace. Same space. 

Traveling in a circle. A big need to draw a circle. Over the brain. Over the intentionmodelofopportunityperception.

 Over you. 

And make it magic, that nobody, who wants to harm you, would ever step there.

Never.

Whole grain bread and something dead. Sandwich with a ham. 

Sound of the day. To keep the same pace in different space.

Oh Monday

Slightly tripping on coffee and insomnia, and driven by the mofo procrastination my day flows totally useless, totally pathetic. Eyes look pretty happy, brain-pain still doesn't want to leave my poor skull. Anyway, anyhow, setting the limits in my life was never an easy task. Delimitation writing is even harder. Now when I know that I have to do that and I don't have any other choice I still postpone every single minute just to expand that limit. Looks like always I try to drain every single drop of time that I could waste doing nothing. Looks like I still include "I" in every single sentence. Looks like. Looks like nap time would be a saver of a day. Looks like that I have a meeting in 30 and I am not prepared. Filled with randomness. Filled with procrastination. Filled with coffee. Filled with confusion and disappointment. Nah not really, just procrastination. I'm happy in overall.

 

and the song to make stress be even harder and it might push me to start working

Tension

Gonna shake that major tension and disappointment out! 

Bunch of crap just have to be solved, sorted out and applied to work for a long term. Lists of strategies, models, methods, solutions, frameworks. Emails, calenders, events. Problems, tasks, cases, exams. One after another. Tuesday became Monday. I've never hated Mondays but apparently if it's on Tuesday it is really bad.