Today

Another crazy day.

Good singing things today.

Actually, excellent. 

Excellent singing things.

I've got super loads of lyrics to learn this week but I'm getting started tomorrow so that is all doable.

I've currently got something under 6 hours till my alarm goes off.

But all the excitement from the day is keeping my eyes open like an owl.

Tomorrow morning I'm gonna have some lovely breakfast, somewhere.

Then rehearsal 11am, and a proper home evening.

I really need to learn the switching off business. 

For now, I bid you all a superb night, from  the Spaniards bed.

Love and light.

Yours truly.

M.

oh, my darlings

don't fret.
beauty is everywhere.
there are people all over the world who would love to know you, the real you, not the glossed over edited you.
people to lift you, inspire you.
people to raise your pulse, and make you catch your breath.
people to make you see how beautiful everything is, in its peace or in its pain.
people to wonder what your dreams are, as opposed to tell you to let them go.

imagine a lifetime lived like this.
what a wondrous thing it would be.


little miracles - don't chase them away.
don't let other peoples' words break them, or fracture them.
and keep your eyes open for magic.
for the old friend you haven't seen in a while, or someone who passes you who's smiling for no reason, or someone who looks like they are so unreasonably happy that it's almost contagious, or first snow, or last snow, or first flowers, or last flowers.
we walk on ground that lives and breathes, and there's so much awesomeness just around us.

just because someone else has lost the ability to see it, does definitely not mean you have to

with love.
Your.
M.

sorting sorting sorting sorting

...sorting sorting.

What am I sorting, you ask? (Or maybe you don't, but I'm going to hope that you would ask, what am I sorting.)

Stuff, is the answer.
I'm stewing a secret plan, of returning to my homecountry (ES-TO-NI-A!) for some time.
I've lived in London for 6 years (with the 7th currently running). Which is a lot of time. Nearly a fourth of my life.
Crazy.
Absolutely crazy.

So now with various things here and there, and A. being SO international, and all the sweethearts at home, et cetera, I've found myself actively thinking about this.

So therefore, because I am a HUMONGOUS chicken-pants (direct translation from Estonian), and by that I mean HUMONGOUS, I thought that actions could turn themselves into words. Since I'm too scared to actually say it and therefore make it official, I'm simply sorting through everything. My pre-step to moving.
But I think it's working.

And I'm having fairly significant amounts of fun with this. Finding old things, trying on all of my clothes to see what stays, what goes. Old posters, and other bits and pieces.
With Energy FM pumping great club-beatz at me. This is an Estonian radio station, and they are great.
http://www.energyfm.ee/ (go crazy. great tidying, sorting, workout-ing, whatever-ing music.)

Here's a picture of all the rings I found, none of which I wear, ever.
But much like the 5-year-old that I am, I put them all on at once and felt great about this situation.

My room was so lovely this morning. Alas, this sorting business has taken a little longer than I expected.
So now, my haven has been turned upside down.
Sigh.
Not to fear, tomorrow I will valiantly finish this quest!

Chicken is sorting. 
M.

pull together

i won't "pull myself together."
(Not that it is currently a thing that's present. Just K. mentioned it to me the other day, and I found it interesting.)

Linguistically ridiculous.
I mean, of course it is a necessary thing to have strength to get through a tricky bit, or a particular problem.
But that should not be a constant thing.
Getting through life so you're constantly "pulled together".

Pull
oneself
together

The words, you know.
The words.

The words will absolutely come into being.
Anything that is "pulled together". It just sounds like it has to be held together as well.

So much energy.
M.

language

“So avoid using the word ‘very’ because it’s lazy. A man is not very tired, he is exhausted. Don’t use very sad, use morose. Language was invented for one reason, boys - to woo women - and, in that endeavor, laziness will not do. It also won’t do in your essays.”
John Keating, Dead Poets Society