song of the day by bon iver

the first day in barcelona:
why did i left in the first place?

they are locals here btw

bcn

a night in pärnu buss station could be that depressing? would of never believed that. got on the bus to riga from there. spent the whole trip half sleeping, half crying, half zombie. sometimes we suprise ourselves. got to rigas airport at five am. my check-in to barcelona started at 9.50, didnt really know what to do, so i wondered around in the airport, but the memories are still too fresh and they tortured me so i went to sleep, slept like two hours a day before that and even more - getting on the bus, i was on a birthday before the bus, and that was so dull, that me and my sis, we just decided to get drunk... so in the airport, i was lonely and dead tired. i fell a sleep afront of my gate and woke up, but it was a little too early to wake, so i fell asleep again until a stjuardess knocked on me and asked where i am heading. "barcelona" I sayd, still sleepy. "well there is a plane waiting for you". how i love packing things, getting dressed and running on a plane when you have just a second and all you really want to do is punsh that pretty face.

i was never a machine, who is

its night and it only gives me headache when i think how much more i have to do and how much of it is still not even formed as something. shit. so i leave the country again in two days, and before that i must see many people, pass by Pärnu end up in Riga, not miss a flight and make it to Barcelona, to go to Andorra. at least its worth it. and these days would be neverending nothingless when you dont have great music around, or even more - great people. i just found one more, that i have no idea how to tell thankyou or even if to tell, this desirves so much more and i dont know how to give this. special people. there is some. and the best of it all, is to find it out again and again, some from the past, some from thus around you and many that you havent met jet. god damn, what a day. i never was a machine, who is

hey Sid, whats up?

wish you were here

to Jack, Jim and Mary Jane

you are so far and jet so close,
there is still time, not a minute to waist
I am already yours, now be mine.
too many what ifs and way too much
that and this, its now or never its now
or what if.

its the same song playing again, time is music.
just dont forget it has its own vibe,
yes, you can stay for longer
but in the end its just a smile
I can die for you,
but I cant live your life.

missing smone

sometimes you miss somebody so much it can hurt. and all you can do is think about that person, you write a shitty poem, maybe a stupid song, have a glass of something and roll one, but nothing seems to help. Led Z plays, then pink floyd and then ACDC. What a day? I hanged the KISS poster on my wall, it fits but I just damn it all and miss more. why do we miss people so much? because it was good to have them around? you felt yourself to be alive? because of all the things you did and all that were never done? why we miss people at all? I soppose we dont want to be alone. and to be someone we need another. simple semiotics say: me is the one who says you. if there is no you, I cant say "me".

crap it is what its called

so a little and painful summary of the last three days ive had. two days ago, i went out with some friends and were in this place called "tucholsky" - its one of the Kiels underground places, the first time I went there, i thought its a sleasy strip club, well it was not - it was just a sleasy club. and the last time I went there, two days before Christmas I got robed. my bag was stolen while I was dancing with my back to it and most of it, aswell my passport, was tried to flush down in the mens toilet- i got my overopeed passport and the bag itself, but lost a camera with all the pics from Kiel and some nice amount of money and a pair of keys that were not mine and there was four carkeys and a pair to a important place. nothing to do about it. congradulatoions and merry christmas. the next day was our last day at work, so when we were working late hours i had the first real migren in my life. in one point i kind of passed out and in the next one I threw up. merry christmas. the morning after that i couldnt eat and when i did, we almost missed our plane in Hamburg and then spent the whole day of 24th in the airports. did I say merry christmas? At least the picture is great, if you can see - there is a mouse stealing grapes. thought it fits in the topic...

plus this

I mean when is it that music becomes just something? I soppose never. I soppose this is why we are addicted of it. I am for sure. So here I am paying a soulprice for being in the net and all I do in the end is look for some good vibe. Well, gotta share some with You too:

a) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G9nEDkHLEtU&feature=channel

b) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8FyvGvV2mXs&feature=channel

c) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lNMEdBhvHK8

@ kiel

so, here I am - in Kiel. Im not going to say much about this harbour city - its a small one, with a big and important university, its a little like Rostock or yes, like Tartu. But its not about the place - its about the people. I am with great ones, laughing my ass off at once during a day is the best cure for depressing Christmas fuzz, not even mentiong that my work is about selling mulled vine... I am happy. Thats all I wanted to say.

Michael Kenna

I really love the work of this English artist who now lives in San Fransisco and he is over 50 something. He soesent leave much trace and he is not very famous. His works are always in black and white, which has been always the most amusing for me - the simplicity of it, jet so hard to accomplish. He has mindblowing pictures. I think I am in love with each one of them. And even more I am fond of them due do the fact he likes to shoot in Japan.

this is me

mysterious postcard

so, one day (I should say night) when I came home, I found a postcard for me from the kitchen at 4 am in the morning. It said in Estonian:

knock, knock, is Maria at home?

I dont think so

Well, tell her that I read her travelling letters and here I am sitting in Barcelona and staring at the tower of Barcelonas commercial center. 29.11. Barcelona


I have no idea who sent me this. I even dont know myself the postal code, not even talking about friends knowing my adress where I live now. What a bizarre thing, it makes me crazy and I think on it almost every day. Is it a friend, or a stranger - not jet a friend, or just someone. I mean - do I know you? Or - how do you know me? Do you read this aswell? Who are you?

more

a) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IOZ6ptqcbUc&feature=PlayList&p=BDD6693597416895&index=0&playnext=1
(the creepiest video I have seen so far!)

b) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BOyNzN6fUXY&feature=PlayList&p=BDD6693597416895&index=4

c)http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vShBg0pFbb4&feature=related
(this one is GREATT!)

d) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qjc4jVzc-kg&feature=PlayList&p=BDD6693597416895&index=3

e) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4LoT8Pllg10&feature=related

queer

hey boy, take a look at me

let me dirty up your mind

I'll strip away your hard veneer

and see what I can find

the queerest of the queer

the strangest of the strange

the coldest of the cool

the lamest of the lame

the numbest of the dumb

I hate to see you here

you choke behind a smile

a fake behind the fear

the queerest of the queer

this is what he pays me for

I'll show you how it's done

you learn to love the pain you feel

like father like son

the queerest of the queer

hide inside your head

the blindest of the blind

the deadest of the dead

you're hungry `cause you starve

while holding back the tears

choking on your smile

a fake behind the fear

the queerest of the queer

paranoia

I am writing this reaserch or essay about the privacy of internet due to mass- communi- cation and the more I dig out interesting materials, the more paranoid I get. Its like I just entered my name, and I almost got everything about me - fckin creepy that is. In the United States of America you can even by ones criminal record if you want to! So here I am going crazy about all this material I find about all this material I should not find...