soft

Hello, my darlings.

This is a post about "soft".


Right.
I don't know about you but I grew up thinking "soft" will never ever get you anywhere at allll in this life.
And then I grew.
Just became more and more, cold and rigid, and tank-like.
And I used to love this.
The worse it got, the "better" I thought it all was.
Ooooooooohh, look at meee, I'm like a tank.

Lo-and-behold, I turned 23 or something and realised none of this - and I mean, NONE of this - works.
Nor does it have any logic.

Tank.
Seriously.
What.
Why would that be a good thing.
How can anyone make music like that?
How can anyone love or make love like that?
How can anyone make art, or something new?
How could anyone create like that?

One word: ice-queen.



And yes, la-la-la, "invincible and Strong" and whatever.
Point is.

It's actually a living breathing walking suicide. 

And it's so addictive, as is everything, let's be honest here.
You do something enough times and it becomes second nature.
Pretty simple.
Repetition is the root-mother of every thing.
SIMPLE AS.
You do something enough, and BAM! you think it's "my character".
I've done it enough times.

It's the rule that makes nature wonderful and terrifying.

So repeat the RIGHT things.
RIGHT FOR YOU.
F*CK someone else's "rights" and "wrongs".
Pick and choose what you want to be, pick and choose what you want to be seen as.
Make your life.
Make YOURSELF.

God.
This is super to myself.
Screw them all.
This is what I think.
All of them.
And just make YourSelf.
Pick the people, embrace and love and keep the people who let you be You, and just don't expect anything more or anything less.
Just You, the You-est you and the You of YOUR own choosing.
Not someone's cat or Jesus Christ's grandma.
Just YOU.

Enough with the ice queen tendencies now.
I don't like people like that, why should I ever try to BE it myself.

I am the dreamer, the soft ripe giving thing, like spring and wet soil, y'know?
Muddy, dirty, bloody, like gawddamn Mother Earth.
So why, again, my favourite question of all existence, why would I then turn into ice, which is by its very definition the opposite of wet, warm and fertile?

And if we want to talk about strength, then what is actually stronger than the earth, the basis on which all of this motherfrikkin circus is standing on anyway.

So seriously.
I need to stop this infantile ridiculousness.
And just become the person I want to be.
And kick ass like that.
I don't know why this is taking so long....but hey. Patience after-all.

Patience.
Keep muddy, keep warm and keep wet.
Peace out, darlings.

Yours truly.M.

ability

It's quite odd.
How my ability to marvel, anything and everything, which I usually hold as my favourite characteristic about myself, just kind of disappears into the cracks in Tallinn.
God knows why.

It's getting REALLY BORING.

Maybe once I get a new flat.
And have a vinyl record player.
And I can play old recordings of Beethoven, and Rachmaninov, and Gershwin.
From that shop.
The shop we went to.
(..good god, I was happy)
Maybe when I have my own kitchen.
Where I can cook all the things I want to cook.
With my music.
And my books on a shelf.
The way I want them.
And my things.
My things in their places, and my order.
My scores, and learning the scores.
Painting, and drawing, and dancing, and laughing or crying.
Just BEING. Like I want to be.
And my cigarette breaks, on the window sill.
With really cold air.
My my my my my my.
Mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine.
Mine.
Just unwatched, unmeasured, unassessed.
Unobserved.
Free to create through just being.

All of the things that I've seen this year:
All of the things that I've felt this year.
This has been quite the year.
I need to take it easy, so so easy.

I suck at seeing the larger context.
I just forget.
I really should keep that in mind.
The larger context.
Of everything.

How much change, and disappointment, and then growth, and Love can a person digest, without any side effects, in less than a year.


I'm a master of painting over and painting over and over, things with things.
Painting over, and deceit.


In other news, however, some hair colour inspiration.

Yours truly.
M.

the Great

A friend of mine told me this story today.

This is a story about Alexander the Great.

Before his death, Alexander the Great asked his friends to place him in his casket with his hands by his sides, but his palms open, facing up, bare and showing.
His friends were confused at his request and asked him why he wanted his hands to be so exposed.

To which Alexander replied: "My friends, people from around the world will travel to see me before I am buried. I want them all to see that this is the man who owns the world, and yet he leaves with two empty hands."

(PS, I don't care whether this is true or not. Do not care.)
My friend went on to say, that this is how it is. All of this is borrowed. Throughout our lives, the houses, the cars, the everything. It's all borrowed. Because at the end of it all, we give it all back and then leave with two empty hands.
Even the man who had the entire world at his feet.

So don't sign your life away for a job you don't like, or values that are not yours, or to a whole life-time of doing things that do nothing for your soul.
Because at the end of it all, you cannot take any of this with you.

So why spend a lifetime chasing someone else's unicorns.

Yours truly.
M.

paradise lost

Pluto's Retrograde lasts till September.
Pluto's Retrograde lasts till September.
Pluto's Retrograde lasts till September.
Pluto's Retrograde lasts till September.
Pluto's Retrograde lasts till September.
Pluto's Retrograde lasts till September.

Mantra.

I must not forget this.
Because everything that's happening at the moment is absolutely and I mean ABSOLUTELY following this pattern.

Everything.

Like, e-v'ry-thing.

"The things that are not right simply will not remain in your life. The Universe will not give them the chance."

So they will simply

....disappear.
Into nothing.

And that is good, in the end.
Just bare with Pluto till it's finished doing its thing.

And so just let them go.
This is the physicalisation of my "don't play god" project.
Just let these things go. Don't fight the ebb and flow.
Because we don't know anything anyway.
Trust life, trust the Universe.
Don't play god.
It's cocky and stupid.

And even if it's the very-very things that we want to keep so much and just breathe them in and press them against our cheek and our body, so tight, we cannot.
We can't keep those things.
If they go, they go.

Universe knows better.

It really, truly does.

So may we have the faith and belief and trust to go with it.

Peace and love, kids, peace and love.
M.

gracefully

“In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you."

HOW GRACEFULLY
YOU LET GO OF THINGS
NOT MEANT FOR YOU

Let's, PLEASE, just let this sink in. Please.
Because all truth and happiness is in that.

How gracefully you let go of things not. meant. for. you.

Measuring, and hearing, and understanding what is meant for us and what isn't and listening to our intuition.
Because your intuition is always right, always.
Your intuition already knows everything.

So let's just remember this, right.
Let go of things not meant for you.

And so. Every day start again.
Because nothing matters apart from what you do today and how you live today.

What we do today, matters most.
M.

kaleidoscope eyes

I really, really like losing track of time with someone.

Completely.

I mean, so much.
This track below, Time by Pachanga boys, I mean, if you have 15 minutes of time to give your ears, head, heart and soul something pretty amazing, listen to it.

Losing

track

of

time

Yesterday was amazing.

Kaleidoscope eyes, baby.
M.

don't get greedy, kid

It is interesting how even the most seemingly positive things can draw out some negative patterns.
To be more exact.

This past week was absolutely spectacular.
I don't know what exactly I decided and when, but paired with Tuesday night, when I actually realised how ridiculously hindering my thought patterns were, something shifted.
And I was sliding on that wave for about 72 marvellous hours, when it was nothing short of audible how things were just somehow falling into place.
Sounds super, right?

It is, and was.
However.
An interesting side effect is that this gets almost addictive.
And so I decided to take a few days to calm down and prepare for the beginning of the week.
But I don't know. Now it's just a bit off.
Like, I got so used to "people" that now I'm a little --what? A little something.

So, in conclusion.
Don't be greedy, kid.

I suck at balance.
Always have.
And this same go-go-go-go-more-more-more-more-more-more-MORE-NOW thing got me to the point where I was in October, i.e. didn't want to do anything, at all.
This dance with everything and nothing.

Balance.
All of this is just a balancing act.
And what do you do if you don't know how to do something?
LEARN.

So I shall learn balance.

Greedy, greedy child.
M.

ourselves?

Okay, so I've been thinking about this for a while now.
And had this draft written but never finished.

I think this started when I was thinking of this idea of "working hard" at something. I've always been proud of the fact that if I want to do something or want to get something, I work hard.
Which is great and fine.
However, what if we're working hard at things that just don't deserve it?
Or things which will not bare fruit, because they don't have the potential?


We should all aim at and try to have enough respect for ourselves to recognise the time to walk away.

Often the need to work hard at something is emphasised, over and over and over, and over, and over again. As if the process has inherent value, regardless of the end.
Fine.
I get it.
It's good to work hard, and it will get you places.
But.

Sometimes things just run out of inertia and what happens then?
They come to an end.
Simple as that.

So I really hope, that when the time is right, you and I will have enough bravery to recognise the "stop" point. To say "thank you, this was great", and to walk away.
From anything at all - actual and tangible, or mental, anything.
Anything in your life.
Jobs, ideas, friends, partners, hair colour, your favourite pants, or the city you live in.
Anything at all.

Because at the very very very end of the day, this is your one life, and your own happiness. No one else's.
And even if holding on seems like a brilliant idea, it's not.

So I really hope you have the courage to recognise when it's time to walk away from something.
I'm really trying to start understanding which is which.

As ever.
With love.
M.

wintercoat

I find working out in the depths of winter hard.
Not in London cause we have plenty of space in the livingroom, but in Tallinn it's not as convenient to work out at home. And going somewhere, I mean, it's so cold outside, then you have to go somewhere, get naked to get changed, then change back, get home in the cold.
I know these are all just a massive bunch of excuses, I do know this. It's just I genuinely feel like this bunny below, at the thought of working out during the winter-months.
So therefore, the past month has just been a big big hole of nothing.
Oh well, winter will pass.

And o-m-g, imma work on my pushups.
M.

I traced the beginning of when I started writing in English.
August 22, 2010, when i had an abundance of questions at 1am.
Including
When exactly did I stop wanting anything, at all? (Except maybe like 27 and a half hours of sleep)

such sweet nothing