the Return

And once again, I'm back!

These past few months have just been a string of leavings and returnings.
And so I have once again returned from Finland.

My stay with A. was super peaceful.
We did some rowing (I have a blister hole in my hand to prove it), spent a lot of sauna time, had some excellent food cooked by her parents, points to a marvellous stake a la Father, did some talking, a lot of board-gaming, face-masking, sunning, reading, tea-drinking, plenty of sleeping and so forth.
In one word: summering.

Sadly I have absolutely no photos.

So yes, I've no returned to Tallinn with a head full of thoughts, that need to be organised.
Pronto.

And I'm also planning to go back to Finland again, next week.

Summer-time.
M.

again

This just keeps coming back.

And it doesn't get any less surprising.
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.

turn

So.
turning points in life
turn right or turn wrong
again

Take the risks, my darlings.
Take your risks.
Take them.
Seriously, take them.

This is the kind of night this is.
With thunder and lightning.
Fresh energy, fresh ideas, and fresh courage.

Could-have-schmould-have.
M.

control

Okay.

Right now I'm going to make a promise to myself.
And it is pretty simple.

I will never ever again let things grow over my head. 

I will stay on top of the little things, the communicating, and talking, to seeing, the telling.
And I will not let myself bury myself under this pile of stuff, that otherwise would be nice and/or exciting.

The wave is the same.
It is up to me to ride it, or get crushed under it.

I will stay on top. 
M.

the one to set you free

The amount of love I have for this tune is crazy.
M.

I could be the one to make you feel that wayI could be the one to set you free

i follow rivers

This song
This song
This song
This song
This song
This song
This song
This song

Be the ocean where I unravel.

Can I follow?
M.

then do it again

i know you're right behind me

Lykke Li, again, and again, and again.

Yesterday the night before tomorrow.
M.

bon

A DIFFERENT LIFE

9 good reasons

Saturday morning made me laugh.
I got a trolley bus home from town, at 08.03am, clear as a sunshiny day.
And it made me laugh, so very much. That whole situation.
And I think I giggled the whole way.
I was wearing a hat, and I wasn't cold.

The whole night was meant to end at 2am, when the right person asked me why I'm going the wrong way.
And then the smoky chats about the state of the arts, specific advice how to further my career, suburban slang, who would eat cats or dogs, how to raise your pigs, benefits of working in a gold mine in Australia, what makes an Estonian, lovely kind people, double-straws, wet feet dancing, shouting "SAY MY NAAAME!" whilst dancing with said wet feet, then the bean bag jumping, and the squealing, and the Cosmos, and the leftover Cosmo shots, and the morning, and the "Ich liebe" to Tallinn, and the 7.30am empty bottles to the bins.
This week just gone was incredible.

(Friday. what is that sparkle?
Ps, I promise I don't actually have a facial expression as unpleasant as that. My Dell snapshot central does that to me. And it's slightly hideous.
So for now, for the lack of a better face/expression, my apologies.)

 

And now I made pasta for dinner. I don't make good pasta and this was good.

And I replaced my old phone that just refused to work anymore.
And out of love, the old one is being repaired.
And the new one is nice.
As was the pasta.
So much nice, it's coming out of my ears.

I want to be a man, and I want to be the Count of Monte Cristo.
M.