break

So.

Where am I up to so far.

Spring is here.
And I plan to have May (and June definitely as well) as months where I don't worry about "the future". The ever elusive entity.

Months where I let the beginning of this year, all this so far, sink in, slowly and softly, steadily, and calmly.
Just. sink. in.
And this plan is solid.

I want to calm down.
I want to not-stress and I want to not-worry.


There's this idea swimming around at the moment of enrolling at the Academy here.
I wasn't sure at first but I'm really really warming to this idea.
I went out last night with Keiu, to this old shipyard, where house music legend Marshall Jefferson was hitting the beats.
The whole place looked amazing and the crowd was really excellent.
Really a different side of Tallinn and new to me.
And as I was there, dancing away, I thought of the Academy and all these other things I could do in Estonia.
And suddenly it just felt so right, and awesome, and excellent.
I've had my heart set on staying home for some time now, but I haven't really understood....the hows and whys and wheres and you know. The rest of it.
And now I feel like Reason has caught up with Intuition.
Welcome onboard, son!



I want to enjoy the fact that I'm alive, I want to enjoy that I have this mind and spirit and body, and I want to enjoy that I'm home and it's spring.

I want my insides to feel happy.

That's all.

Oh, and I want this dress below.
Thankxxx.

Peace out, all your lovely people.
Follow your own measures of right and wrong.
Necessary and unneccesary.
And when something doesn't feel right - DON'T DO IT.
When something is giving you crazzyyy fear or panic - DON'T DO IT.
Just stop for a bit, figure out what is causing you all this pain and suffering, and then carry on.
There is no deadline, no opinion or no anything more important and valuable than You and your health and your well-being.
Keep your heart strong, keep your heart happy and the rest will work itself out.
But with a fearful heart, with a sad heart you cannot get to the right things anyway.
Stop jumping over your own shadow.

Here's some photos of Slavic babes.

Love, always.
Yours truly.
M.

Point B

If I should have a daughter, instead of "Mom," she's gonna call me "Point B," because that way she knows that no matter what happens, at least she can always find her way to me. And I'm going to paint solar systems on the backs of her hands so she has to learn the entire universe before she can say, "Oh, I know that like the back of my hand."

And she's going to learn that this life will hit you hard in the face, wait for you to get back up just so it can kick you in the stomach. But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air. There is hurt, here, that cannot be fixed by Band-Aids or poetry. So the first time she realizes that Wonder Woman isn't coming, I'll make sure she knows she doesn't have to wear the cape all by herself because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. Believe me, I've tried.

"And, baby," I'll tell her, don't keep your nose up in the air like that. I know that trick; I've done it a million times. You're just smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail back to a burning house, so you can find the boy who lost everything in the fire to see if you can save him. Or else find the boy who lit the fire in the first place, to see if you can change him."

But I know she will anyway, so instead I'll always keep an extra supply of chocolate and rain boots nearby, because there is no heartbreak that chocolate can't fix. Okay, there's a few heartbreaks that chocolate can't fix. But that's what the rain boots are for, because rain will wash away everything, if you let it.
I want her to look at the world through the underside of a glass-bottom boat, to look through a microscope at the galaxies that exist on the pinpoint of a human mind, because that's the way my mom taught me. That there'll be days like this. ♫ There'll be days like this, my momma said. ♫ When you open your hands to catch and wind up with only blisters and bruises; when you step out of the phone booth and try to fly and the very people you want to save are the ones standing on your cape; when your boots will fill with rain, and you'll be up to your knees in disappointment.
And those are the very days you have all the more reason to say thank you. Because there's nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it's sent away. You will put the wind in winsome, lose some. You will put the star in starting over, and over. And no matter how many land mines erupt in a minute, be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called life. And yes, on a scale from one to over-trusting, I am pretty damn naive. But I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar. It can crumble so easily, but don't be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it. "Baby," I'll tell her, "remember, your momma is a worrier, and your poppa is a warrior, and you are the girl with small hands and big eyes who never stops asking for more."

Remember that good things come in threes and so do bad things. And always apologize when you've done something wrong, but don't you ever apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining. Your voice is small, but don't ever stop singing. And when they finally hand you heartache, when they slip war and hatred under your door and offer you handouts on street-corners of cynicism and defeat, you tell them that they really ought to meet your mother.


I like this.
M.

face

I should honestly tattoo this on my face.

Learning.
M.

pink

Pink wine and pink whatever.
Good food and great company.
And great conversation.

The cat's still struggling and I'm still worrying. And trying not to.

Fingers crossed for more sleep than 49 minutes last night.
Send all your love to my cat, please, please.

Thanks.

Pink.
M.