post-singing idyll

Children will be children.
Concrete grey.


My writings back in the day, before The Big Move, were so angry. Quick-tempered. Maybe I've lost my balls of writing.
Or maybe I've just calmed down. Or maybe I've just learnt how to calm down.

I did something good today. Something good for myself, and something I should be proud of.
So this is my moment of Congratulations-Maria-well-done.

"USALDA END JUHUSELE JA VAATA, MIS SAAB"
Trust youself to chance, and see what happens.

In retrospective it is kind of funny how scared I was of going away. I read it on paper, but I can't remember the feeling. I remember the night 23 days and 6 years ago when for the first time I packed my big red suitcase that has now become one of the 5 constants in my life. I remember the night, I remember my cat, my dad with some Coronas and lime (well done, Father) and I remember some numb panic. But the run-up - it's just gone.
Trust yourself to chance.

I'm kind of sorry I deleted my really melancholic blog, pre-dating the 2005 one.
I'd like to read it like now. A diary of sorts of how it has all been, and how it has gone.

Drum and bass gave it clarity. A very singular meaning and a razorsharp focus. Which was really lacking. Just non-existent.
M. is for Mayhem.