The Blue Mind

Room for sale

2009-08-10T07:16:00.000-07:00

My room needs some renovation. The ceiling has got lower and lower. It's too narrow here as the walls are trying hard to smash me between them. The windows have turned into mirrors. When i try to look out to see the cheering brightness of hope i can only see myself. I am not moving and i wonder if i ever have, i have stopped inside the self portrait of expectation. I need to stop looking because i already saw what is out there. I need a change of scenery, i need a new perspective. I need to wake myself up from this sentimental dullness, from this wintersleep that has buried too many lilac smelling summer eves.

I don't want to wait for one hundred years of loneliness for a kiss of a prince. I have to do it all myself. There is no prince and a princess and a happy ending. There is only me and an endless amount of possibilities. I can't have my life on a leash while sleeping. I used to lock it in a bird cage but it turned out to be a bad idea.

My room needs some complete repairs so i was thinking maybe it's too pricy to fix it, maybe i just better leave the whole room, close the door behind me for good and throw the keys in a fountain of good luck. I need to have my room for sale and move on.

The Journey

2009-07-12T07:15:00.000-07:00

I have been gone for half a year, half a year travelling in distant countries, drawing stars to the foggy window glasses of the bus and smiling quietly. Finally i had the chance to leave and i left, holding a one-way ticket against my little nervious heart that was bouncing anxiously inside of me. I left in search of home and a place where i belong to but instead i found out that even though the world looks so small on my old worn out atlas it can still be surprisingly hard to let your tired feet rest before the darkness falls over you. Even though i learned to paint a smile on my face and make it real, even though i found more and more leaves of joy on the road i was strolling, i still didn't end up to the gate of the one ultimate home where to stay and live happily ever after. I came and i left, i said hello and i said goodbye, i shook and waved my hand. New faces and voices flew through the rooms of my memory leaving songs behind them that are still echoing on the walls. I lived on the road and finally understood that maybe this is where i belong to. Maybe i belong to not belonging anywhere. Maybe my real home is to be homeless. But doesn't that also mean that the whole world is my home?

In one morning

2008-12-12T00:30:00.000-08:00

I used to think that everything turns out to be alright when i grow up. I used to think that the moment i am living is only a big waiting room and all i have to do is to sit down and wait for someone to call my name. Thinking of the future made me feel so optimistic, it made me feel i can conquer the mountains and swim across the oceans to catch the shooting star of my dreams. I was blinded by the colors of the rainbow, by the vision of better tomorrow in the distance of time.

Then, in one cold winter morning i woke up and realized that this is tomorrow. This is tomorrow and it's just the same as all the other days of my life. It's not brighter nor darker, not colder nor warmer. I am not braver than i used to be and i have no more idea of anything than i used to have. I am just the same fanciful girl wandering alone in the same riddle of life. I am still inside the glass that has been turned upside down.

In one cold winter morning i woke up just to realize that tomorrow has come and gone.

Paper doll

2008-07-09T16:06:00.000-07:00

I am a paper doll and it makes me frustrated. It makes me bitter, it makes me turn my head down like the flowers do when the sun has disappeared. I am the lonely blue girl in the background of an old photograph. I am the little bird that never learned to fly. It fell down from its nest and now it's down there in the grass, looking at the lilac sky and wondering how it would be like to be carried by the wind.

I would rather disappear completely than be a doll made of paper. I feel so ashamed of my paper limbs that i try to hide in the shadows and cover myself with lots of clothes. I try to be invisible because i don't want them to notice i am nothing but only a nostalgic decoration, only one breakable moment in someone else's childhood. I feel like i should give them explanations. They might start asking. They might think i'm weird. And i wonder why they didn't miss the train but i did. Why is it me standing in the empty station, waiting for the train that never comes? Did i break my wings before or after falling from the nest?

I sigh and i stare at the emptiness. I only want to be real. I want another train to come and pick me up so that i could sit down and travel to the merciful unknown. I don't want that children's paper scissors can cut me in thousands of miserable pieces.

Missing

2007-04-23T06:32:00.001-07:00

I have been missing someone and something for all my life. There is something that makes me empty inside. A piece is missing. It ran away and never told where or why it left but i know it wants to be found because it leaves messages behind. Very short and little messages whispering about beauty and realization. Stories about peaceful and silent blessedness. I pick up these signs hidden behind the corners of clouds. Petals on the winding road. The missing piece wants me to follow it. Maybe, after a long and burdening journey, it will lead me home.

Invisible days

2007-02-21T02:50:00.000-08:00

There are days when i turn into invisible and start looking at people and their secrets. When you are invisible you can see life from a different perspective. You are so close to it but yet so far away. You are so close to those happy and grieved faces, those shivering and insecure souls that are wandering around the town so lost in the drama of their life. They have locked the door of their core and they are not willing to open it for strangers. If you don't have a shield around you someone can come and strike. They don't want to tidy the places of the house of their heart. Once again.

That's why people put a mask on their face when they step out from their home. They lock all the doors, close the windows and cover them with long satine curtains. They are afraid of burglars, they are worried about the property of their soul. So they walk around unrecognizably, they go to market to buy vegetables, they sit on a train looking at landscapes and they take their dogs out. But they always remember to wear the mask to hide their secrets and their private home.

When i am invisiblely sitting on the bench of a park i can see those people passing by with their houses very well locked. But if i am patient and just keep looking at them.... it can happen. Suddenly, when they think nobody is watching, they open the window and look out of it because sometimes they have to let the fresh air in. In that short moment i can see inside their beautiful and very personal house full of sparking glass fragments of their life. It makes me understand those people though it makes me feel blue, too. They have a hidden treasure deep inside of them and they just want to take care of it. Although sometimes their treasure is so beautiful that they should let more people see its glory.

Daydreams

2006-11-17T18:30:00.001-08:00

I live with my dreams. I wake up with them, i share the breakfast with them and i take them with me whenever i go. We are inseparable friends, my dreams and i. We need each other. I need my dreams to keep living and they need me to have a being and become real. Without me my dreams were only air with no importance and without my dreams i was only a lifeless little girl lost in the silver mist. I have many dreams and plans, too many to keep count on them. Sometimes they are on a wild mood and they escape from the nest i have made for them, running and flying around my life and then i can do nothing else but looking after them and trying to put them back in order. If somebody talks to me at the same time i barely hear what they are saying. I am too busy with my dreams, too busy to listen to anyone. Too busy to travel the long way back to reality.

I have to give a life for my dreams. It is my responsibility after spending so much time with them. They would never forgive me if i just left them alone and walked away without looking back. But of course we both know that i am not going to go anywhere without first realizing my dreams. I am too devoted of them, i feel for them like a mother for her children. And in the midnight when i am looking at my dreams sleeping peacefully on my pillow i feel so melancholy because i know what i have promised. I have to free them. But we have shared so many moments together that i will miss them when they are gone, when they have grown up, flied away from their nest and i have no daydreams left to dream about.

Small world

2006-10-08T18:00:00.000-07:00

Sometimes life and this whole world feel too limited and small. Life has certain borderlines that we can't across. Not because we were too scared or hesitant to take a serious step, but because the walls around us are too strong and high to climb over. Maybe it's enough for most of the people to live inside the walls that have been given to us, happily and safely, without thinking about the other side. The other side that doesn't actually even exist. Or does it? It's too hard to paint the invisibility or dress up the nonexistence. But for me it's not enough. It makes me too curious... too restless to keep walking when i know there are only limited number of roads that i can follow. Why can't i break the rules of the universe, the rules of the human existence? I long for doing something that is not possible. Something that doesn't exist in this world where we are walking, breathing, crying, laughing and finally dying. Something that you don't have to explain because the emotion itself is so huge that it breaks down all the words and expressions that have ever been knitted together. I want to get out. Out of this substance. Out of this safely familiar world. Out of this same old macrocosm. I am a prisoner. We all are.

Chains

2006-09-08T22:30:00.000-07:00

People think they know me. They think they can cut me in pieces and tell how every slice of my soul works. They think they can write my name on an encyclopedia. Directions for use. They have packed me up in a box and thrown it into the corner of a warehouse. I can't move here. I need some space. But this is not written on their notebook, there is no mention about my real feelings or state of mind. They think i am dead. They have already analyzed me, cleaved me and picked up my labyrinthine heart that beats every minute. They have made their own conclusion, drawn their opinions on my forehead.

Strangers

2006-08-05T01:18:00.000-07:00

How to create friendships when even the old ones are withered? How to have new immemorial moments, deep conversations late in the night, when the dearest people of my life suddenly seem to be so far away?
Yesterday i had a name for all the expressions on the familiar faces but today they are too strange to recognize. When i look at those people i would like to ask "Who are you? Have we met before?" I don't even know if i like these new faceless ghosts around me. But i know i miss the comforting smile that threw a light on me always when i was afraid of darkness.
I have a hapless feeling that the only people who i worried about and who worried about me will always be strangers. And i will always be a stranger for them. We will always walk side by side but it means we can never come across.

Lonely island

2006-07-18T23:20:00.000-07:00

The coast of this lonely island has become very familiar to me. I know every rock, every tree. I have drawn strange letters to the sand by my finger. Strange words which meaning i don't understand. Messages and letters for nobody. Footprints. I have sat many nights on the rock or wandered around with nothing to do, no one to talk with. Except the moon that is just arising from the horizon.

Sometimes everything here seems very harmonic and i really enjoy being in this hidden place. Sometimes it feels like this island gives me a reason of some kind. This is my little home. My place of safety from the ugly grey world. Or am i just wrapping myself up in prejudices? Am i just a craven making excuses to stay in the arms of the silence until it makes me insane?

It's hard to see a way out when it's stormy and the open sea is black. No light spots. No ships. But there are clear days when i can see a land on the horizon. Far away land that is calling me to build a little ferry and sail there. I belong there, it tells. I am just wasting my life. No one can live like this forever. But this island has made me numb. How can i make a ferry? It will take many hours. And how can i raise and let my hand to row it? I am so sleepy. If the sea is very wavy it will be hard to sail away. And the sea is wavy day after another blue day.

Beautifully wistful life

2006-06-20T01:00:00.000-07:00

I tasted a piece of life. Life itself and its bittersweet happiness. I used to think i don't need things that everyone needs, that i can live without breathing out and in. But life is not that far. I have seen it shining from my window. I was diving in deep oceans but now i had to swim back to the surface. To see the sun. To see the life. To breathe the air to be ready to dive again. But in that moment i understood people are meant to live. Not to travel their whole life in sleep, with dreams, delusions and unfulfilled wishes. Because what kind of life is just to imagine the life? What kind of moments are those that never happened. One living day keeps us alive for many dead and empty months.
It was a beautifully wistful day and i wonder why i always covered my window with long and dark curtains, why i always stayed under water, though sometimes the landscape was beautiful. Though sometimes birds were singing. Quietly but however.

Sleepy in sleepiness

2006-05-21T13:44:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it's hard to wake up. Or go out. Have you noticed how hard it can be sometimes to pick up a water glass from the table. In those moments i would like to sleep. Happiness and escape. But hours are wandering their endless path and they don't stop. They don't even listen to me though i ask them to give me one second. One little second. They are not interested at all if the speed is too fast for me. And why should they? I am just another one asking them to slow or fasten their steps.
How sweet it would be to give up this time and stay to bed. What does it matter if i don't do everything in the best possible way. What does anything matter. What does it matter if i just fall asleep while sun is making little rainbows on the white wall and the cry of seagulls is reminding me of the sea.
I feel like sleeping for one thousand years. Climbing plants would grow and grow finally covering my house. Finally covering my sleeping body. Finally covering the world and those faraway illusions of skies that are clearer than what they have always been. Finally hiding my little lost secret under the green herbarium.
Everything turns to yellow when the sunshine is dazzling my eyes. Children are laughing in the yard and jumping rope. Cars are driving slowly on the gritty road. "Just five minutes..." i think and close my eyes again wishing those five minutes could last forever.

Wonderland

2006-05-13T23:45:00.000-07:00

When i was a child i had an imagination friend. Her name was Elsa and she could fly. When i was lost and didn't know where to go i just called her and she came and led me the right way back home.
When i was a child trees and stones talked to me. They told me that i am the only human for whom they talk so i can't tell the secret to anyone. And of course i didn't. It was an honour to be a part of a secret. I felt myself important. Sometimes i spent many hours talking to my tree friends in a little ditch near to my house. I told them how was my day, i told them how much i would like to be a cat so that i could climb up to the housetop of my daycare center always when i have to eat mushroom sausage.
One day when i walked to meet the trees again i noticed something horrible. Something unbelievably cruel. One of my friends, a birch called Matti, had been cut down. I cried with bitterness and anger and next day i arranged a funeral. I was the only guest. And of course the other trees who were at least as sad as i was.
When i was a child autumn had something very fascinating in it. In autumn trees had a colorful festival and all of them had to float down to the ground from their home tree. It was a tradition and sometimes some leafs were very scared and didn't want to free themselves from their homely and safe branch until other leafs encouraged them to do it. I encouraged them too and sometimes i stood a long time just looking at the dance and joy of yellow, red and orange leafs until my mother called me to hurry up.
When i was a child i had an ability to turn to invisible in embarrassing situations. It was very useful, specially when i had to participate in some performance of my kindergarten. How terrible. All those people looking at me. But then i just closed my eyes, whispered a magic spell and suddenly i was invisible and then everything was fine.
When i was a child toys woke up in the night and started to live. I knew about their secret but i wanted to catch them in the act. In the night i lurked them under my bed and i was definitely sure that soon i will see my teddy bears and barbie dolls walking around my room totally unaware of my presence. But then i always fell asleep before getting evidence. One night after another.

Now, when many years separate me from those times of innocence and magical secrets, i suddenly found my old porcelain doll from a cardboard box. A little bright flash from my childhood flied over my eyes and i took the doll in astonishment and looked at her. But nothing happened. Not a hidden sign nor a private call. She just stared me lifelessly with her empty glass eyes and i couldn't read anything else in her dead expression but one thing: the gate of the wonderland is irrevocably closed and locked.

My quiet guest

2006-04-22T23:55:00.000-07:00

Today loneliness came to visit. Sometimes i enjoy his company but as with everyone, sometimes i am tired of him. Sometimes i wish he would go away and not come to see me for few days. But loneliness is not as everyone. He never knocks the door before walking in. And although i was very tired to see anyone, although i would just have cried, i never ask him to go away once he has arrived.

He is not very talkative and he doesn't even take coffee though i offer it. What about tea? No answer. I can talk and talk, i can tell him how funny it is when a ladybird walks on your finger. I can tell him how i wish the morning could be everlasting. How i wish i could stop the time just to sit down and close my eyes and feel the beauty of the world without hurry and unfilled thrist for something that doesn't exist. Clock's hand is slumberously beating the time but never falling asleep. I told him how beautiful music box i found today. It had the melody of the lullaby that i used to sing for my little brother when he couldn't sleep.

But loneliness doesn't answer or make a move. I can feel his quiet and calm presence when he stands beside the bookshelf, when he sits down to the blue armchair or when he is creeping closer to me. I don't ask him to say anything. I know he wouldn't. I know he is very original guest, very unique friend. So i take a quick look to the sky. "It's getting rainy", i say and sit down to the floor with my red coffee cup while listening how life is falling on a tin roof.

Little travellers of life

2006-04-01T01:10:00.000-08:00

A little boy is playing by a waterpool. It's spring and he is excited about the melting of snow. He hits a stick on the pool and one cold water drop falls down to my cheek. He looks at me frightenedly like wanting to say sorry but too afraid to do it. I smile to him, put my hands in the pockets of my cloat and keep walking. He smiles back and continues his playing.

The woman has orange hair. She is sitting in an underground and the underground is orange too. She has brown boots and she is reading a book. She doesn't notice life around her because she is so lost in the story of that book on her nail polished fingers. The underground stops and she awakes from the magic world. Spell is broken. She stands up, fixes her hair and walks out from the underground. An empty seat is waiting for another sitter.

A boy with a hat sits down opposite to me. He eats chocolate candies and talks with three of his friends. They laugh and talk. Talk and laugh. "Girl, you look so depressed, take one candy", he says and hands me a box of chocolates. "No thanks." i say and turn my face back to the window. It's night and the city breathes life with its bright lights.

The dirty old man sits alone. Nobody goes to sit near to him. He has old and broken clothes and he sings a song eyes closed. "So far is life, so far is life..." he sings the same melancholic melody again and again. Some group of young girls try to hold back their laughter. One urbane old lady looks at him disapprovingly. Rest of the passengers don't play attention. The old man seems to be tired and lost. And drunk.

A young girl in blue miniskirt and black stockings sits in the back of the underground. She bites her lips insecurely and observes other passengers. Sometimes her eyes stuck on something and stay there for a long time. Time has stopped in her expression. Then she moves her gaze to the window and looks how people's faces are reflected on the window glass.

Memory from one summer

2006-03-19T15:30:00.000-08:00

There is one memory that i miss more than others. One little bright leaf between the pages of an old book. Now the watercourses of life are carrying it far away from my shadow and i can see how it changes smaller and smaller in my eyes. Sometimes it's too easy to forget the things that are gone and today i noticed how much i had already forgotten. I can still remember the shape and colour of that distant moment. I can remember the fresh summer night and if i try hard, i can still smell the sea and the lightness of life in that special hour when i turned my face to the sky and felt infinite.
Today one familiar song flew to my ears and whispered me, told me to open the old book.
I gave way to nostalgia and yearning for the remoteness that once was so near of me. I always fill my suitcase with old and dear memories but this one is different from others. It's a memory from the moment when for the first time in my life i felt i belong somewhere and i wasn't alone.
Now the place of this treasure will be under my pillow. There it can guard my dreams and remind me that i am not groping my way in the darkness.
I have faced a flash of complete blessedness and i want to catch it again from the watercourses.
Now i am sure that it's somewhere out there.

Breaking the entity

2006-03-08T18:15:00.000-08:00

What happens now? Suddenly, i have dissapeared in space, far away from city lights and pulsating life. Somewhere in the otherside of silence. Large views but nothing more deep. When i hear the whistle of a hooter i know i should make a stop precisely in the place, i should stop walking immediately. I shouldn't wonder where every others have gone. But i always search for safety, some kind of shield and curtain ahead of me.
When the hooter screams i don't stop. I become alarmed and i look around to find someone or something where to go, something where to vanish.
I am a feather floating in the air. I know i could turn around and fly through the contrary wind but i let the wind to lead me, anywhere it wants. Why do i allow this?
I stand eyes closed in my room for half an hour. The floor wants me to lose my consciousness and faint. And i shatter into fragments of glass to the ground.

"Tiedätkö näin viime yönä unta
tulit viereeni ja kiedoit kätesi ympärilleni
ja kuiskasit, kuiskasit minulle hiljaa:
Minne, minne meitä tuuli kuljettaa?

Tiedätkö näin viime yönä unta
oli siinä kuningatar, oli siinä kuningas
ja puoli valtakuntaa.
Siinä unessa riensi syliisi pieni poika,
kysyi mihin sinua sattuu, otatko tämän kiven?
Sen löysin rannalta tuolta.
Ja kuningatar otti kiven, painoi rintaansa vasten
ja poika juoksi pois
hävisi taivaan rantaan
muuttui linnuksi ja lensi kauas pois.

Tiedätkö näin viime yönä unta
itkit portin luona ja silloin, silloin satoi lunta.

Äänesi oli niin kaunis kuin koskaan ennen
niin lepäsimme ihan hiljaa, sinä tukkaani hyväillen.
Oli ikkuna jäänyt auki, siitä lensi lintu sisään,
kiersi kotvan sängyn yllä,
laskeutui kirjan viereen ja katsoi,
katsoi kauan meitä.
Ja katsoi kauan meitä."

I saw a smile

2006-03-02T10:16:00.000-08:00

Today i opened the window and life looked like expectionally auspicious. Sometimes life decides to give a smile for you in strange moments, moments that are just like all the other moments in life. But a smile of the sun and life make it special. Suddenly the world seems very big. Some back doors are inadvertently opened. When i looked out from the opened door i noticed there are many roads to walk, one that leads to the south, another to the west. The only one who decides where to walk is me. What a freeing idea is to think that my life is only in my own hands. Doors opened so fast and let the fresh spring wind blow to my face, i didn't even have time to notice the song of it while i was spending my time in the land of nod.
Pictures are clearer than they usually are. Thoughts fly faster than they did.

Here is no place for you

2006-02-18T22:33:00.000-08:00

I saw a lot of stars in the sky but now i can't see them anymore. You told you can still see them twinkling. Now i ask you to clear them away and you wonder what is wrong with me. You ask me to explain what happened. But how could i do that when you are millions of light years far from me? This is my world and you don't have a key to open the door.
I blindly held on you. But now everything is wrong and it makes me feel uncomfortable to even see you. You can't catch up with my eyes when you talk. Everything goes over me. I don't even listen. I don't even want to. It's like looking at far away mountain, i can see it in the horizon but it's too far to touch. Your eyes and words are the mountain and i don't understand you. What did you say? You talk another language. When i finally open my mouth, you can't understand me either. But there is a difference between our behaviour because you try so hard to see me through the mist. But believe me, your efforts lead you only more and more far from my figure.
Maybe it's your fault or then it's my own mistake. It doesn't help to wonder this. I just want to take the sky off, fold it up and set it in the bottom of my memory case. There it can lie forever until someday, when years have gone, i forget it. I know i have done so awfully wrong, but i have to follow my own feelings, not only yours.
Don't stay to wonder. Keep on walking and don't look back. Look for another skies and starts. Another rivers of love.
Because now i will turn the page and start another chapter.

Thanks to my family

2006-02-11T21:50:00.000-08:00

I feel so lucky of having my family. With my mother, with my father and with my sisters and brothers i always feel comfortable and homely. They have shared the life with me, all the childhood playings and flashes of youth. They have been there when i pressed my first footprint to the soft sand. They have seen me pronouncing my first words and they are still here now when i am standing at the end of the path and looking for the world, wondering where to go next.
Amongst my family i can always be what i am. They know me with my good and bad moods, with my tears and laughters, and they are not waiting me to be anything else. I know they wouldn't judge me whatever i decided to do.
There are cruel looks, cold eyes and quiet shadows outside my home, but inside it's warm, caring and understandable. Inside my house i have a pillow and blanket where to be buried and fall asleep, listening to the silent talking from the living room. I don't have to be afraid when i am closing my eyes, because i know i won't be alone as long as i can hear the voices. As long as i have my family.
I have a home where to return always when i am tired of the world.

Unable to touch the sky

2006-01-14T23:00:00.000-08:00

I don't know why i always feel quilty of my unsociality. I often think i am very miserable because i don't like to do the things other people of my age use to do. Sometimes i force myself to go out to have some fun, although most of the times i don't have fun.
I don't live. People have defined living as going out and having a lot of social relationships and different kind of activities for every day. If the word LIVE is defined as this, it means i don't live. I am a dead substance, a ghost. Life out there doesn't interest me right now. I like to look at it, but i don't like to participate. I am quietly becoming acquainted with life.
I don't know why psychologists see separation as a bad sign for a human.
But for me it's nothing serious. I am in all senses.
I wake up and i drink coffee with milk. I read newspaper. I stare out of the window. I lay on my bed and look at the white ceiling while letting my mind fly somewhere far. Somewhere where i will live someday. Somewhere where i will live in the right meaning of the word LIVE. Maybe i will have a life. I like to imagine that i will.
I want to search for life. But not yet, later. Now i am making preparations. Little yellow flowers in my notebook. Some wrecked words. Later they will grow to be whole sentences.

Rooms of my life

2006-01-03T22:40:00.000-08:00

There are so much plans and future dreams spinning on my mind that i can't sleep. I feel very happy and then, suddenly very sad. And i don't know what changes my mood so radically.
I haven't started my life yet and i haven't resuscitated. I am standing at the hallway of my life. It distresses me to think he will possibly enter to my hallway. It's not his place because i haven't opened the door yet to the living room of my life. And the living room is his place. All the other rooms are his places. But not the hallway. It's my own because i am not ready yet for anything. I am standing there and waiting for the right moment to open the door to other rooms. It's not the time yet.
So how can i survive if he suddenly appears here beside me?
He can't do it, it shakes my life. I wish he understood someway that he can't come here. He has to wait for me in the living room. He has to wait when i am ready to wake up.
And i am not ready now.

Cold.

2005-12-27T12:12:00.000-08:00

It's so cold. My nose and hands turn red and i have to jump to keep myself warm. Up and down and up and down again. Snow crunches under my shoes. I wait when the coldness starts to bite my legs. And i jump again. I jump high and high to the dark blue sky full of glimmering little stars. The wind carries me and i have to do nothing else but raise my hands and fly.
The houses and their red roofs look so small and peaceful. They don't know that someone is looking at them from the sky. Now i can't see them anymore. Just little red spots in the middle of the white ground. They dissapear. Only white. Lights and more lights and nothing. I am sitting in the moon with my umbrella. I have to live.

Wishing i could exist

2005-12-15T13:54:00.000-08:00

Oh...
I was feeling fine. I saw the world and people buying christmas presents like in an old blackwhite movie. But i am never inside. I always look but i never participate. I always look out of the window but i never open the door. I like to imagine that i am original and unique. I like it so much i almost begin to be it. But no... i fall down. And i don't have something to show. Something to be proud of. Something in me and about me. There are so many people who i don't even know but who i like to look at and with who i would like to be similar. I would like to have something to show for them. But they don't even know i exist and if they knew they wouldn't care less.
That is it.

The mystery of felicity

2005-11-23T12:07:00.000-08:00

Today in the night when i was walking in the centre of Helsinki, the city was rich in atmosphere. The weather was fresh and christmas lights were illustrating the scenery, and in a corner there was a street musician playing a violin. I wanted to dance with the bittersweet melody and for a second i felt everything so perfect. I buried my face in my white big muffler and smiled.
I was walking in the streets because i had to meet A. It made me happy to see her after so long time and i still feel a piece of that happiness. I don't know how should i call it. It is a piece of a feeling when you feel everything is fine in your life and will be even more. A piece of the feeling when you know you won't be lonely and alone, when you know there is a door at the end of the stairs. A door which leads you to the world of happiness tears. To the world where it's raining and the sun is shining at the same time.
It's funny how you find those pieces in strange places. They just appear suddenly in your way, like comets in the milkyway. But we shouldn't let them be and let the beautiful happy moment just pass by and find ourselves crying alone in the bed again. We should catch the pieces of happiness always when we notice they are there. We should pick them up and put them in safe and find out where those sweet pieces of our life use to dwell. They are like butterflies flying around us, and when we feel in love with their beauty and try to catch them, they suddenly flap their delicate wings... and then they are gone.
But maybe we have to be more observant and follow them.
And they will lead us to our paradise.

One little piece of pain

2005-11-13T22:43:00.000-08:00

Aaah. I can feel the upcoming depression swimming in my vains. What should i do? Maybe eat chocolate and watch Amélie. The world just seems sometimes too small. I haven't discovered it yet, so i can't say for sure, but sometimes i have a helpless feeling about that. What there really is to make me feel complete and completely happy? It feels like nothing. Maybe i just simply don't fit in the shape of this world. I don't know... nothing... I am quietly bursting in pieces. I don't want this feeling to grow and grow. I am flowing away from the edges of eternity.

Calm night

2005-11-10T12:00:00.000-08:00

The light of the street lamp looks so secretive when dark branches are beating it. Everything and everyone are in sleep, it makes me smile and be pleasant. I don't know why. We are in safe when we sleep and nothing can harm us. Maybe the sandman really exists and jumps inadvertently beside our bed to close our tired eyes with the sand dream.
My mom is sitting in the sofa and reading a book. My brothers are in sleep.
Everything has stopped.
Except the branch which is tirelessly beating the light.

I need my own wings

2005-11-08T01:00:00.000-08:00

There is an old song about a goblin who falls in love with a sunshine. He wants to take the sunshine with him to his home under the ground, but the sunshine can't come with him. As soon as the darkness comes down, the sunshine dies.
Sometimes i feel like this. How ever i loved and cared about you, it doesn't change the truth that i could die in the darkness of the caves, just like the sunshine. I am a prison of my own feelings. They look after me very carefully and don't let me bury in my own seas, the ones which i created for myself. My guardians lead me high to the purple coulds where i can see the lands of fairytales. But i shouldn't be too amazed, because all of those golden waves and unicorns can be just a delusion. In the next moment i can be somewhere else, far away from the fairytales.
Don't ask something i can't give. I have my freedom, and it's one of my dearest diamonds in my precious closet.
You say love is the most beautiful thing in the world, but don't you know that sometimes it can mean same as to lock a little heart into a cage.

Getting ready for dreams

2005-11-06T12:46:00.000-08:00

Just another windy and gray day. The autumn is staying on the gates of winter, it seems it doesn't have hurry to arrive in time. I want to wrap myself in a blanket and stay to bed for days, weeks, years and centuries. Own bed is a place to escape when the world seems too complicated and cheerless. For this travel, i pack up my sweet childhood memories and my unfilled longing of love. It's enough to fill my red suitcase. It's enough to be my shield and defence in this world of slumber.

Watching you in my hidden place

2005-10-20T21:15:00.000-07:00

Did you know, that maybe the things which are flying around you, are not meant for me. Maybe i would get tired of swimming in the seas which you drew on the map. I could try to dip my hand in the waves, but i can't promise... although i think i have already done it. Then i can't promise that i will be able to keep my promise.
I walk back and forth. I climb up and down in the stairs. Haven't you seen that sometimes i can't stay. And sometimes i close my eyes. I am far away somewhere, you don't know where but i can see you all the time and i smile for you. You seem to be so down. Don't look at me, it is better if you can't see how i am crying and laughing at the same time. You can't base your life on me and hold on only one balloon. I am telling this to you because i want you to catch your happiness. And i can't promise that it is in my hands.
Do not worry, i am here although sometimes i want to hide.

My own being

2005-10-09T01:33:00.000-07:00

I don't do anything to take care of my friendships. I just let them flow away, to be buried in the oblivion. I don't answer to the phone if someone calls, and i never even call back. I find myself trying to find excuses to not to see anyone. I guess that they notice it more than well. They see through my excuses. They notice it when the phone just rings and rings...
But i don't care at all. I wouldn't care if i didn't have any friends and i wouldn't care either if all of my friends dissapeared in the air. It's not because i don't like them. They are great and nice persons, but i'm just not interested in going out with them, or doing anything else either. Even to think of going out makes me feel really averse to it.
I wish all the best for them, i really do. But i just don't care. I can't say it in more beautiful way. And if i don't like to go out or to meet my friends, why should i do it?
I am happy being in silence and in peace, inside the dreams and illusions.
If we find a way to be pleased, we also should have courage to live in accordance with it.
But this is just a provisional decision.

Welcome october

2005-10-03T22:12:00.000-07:00

People are sometimes so exhausting. I know it's because of my attitude, but they are just so annoying that at least i don't want to see anyone or go anywhere. I stay at home! And to tell the truth, i would like to stay here at least two years. In my warm bed, where i can be in peace in my own special world. The most lovely thing would be, if i just could sleep winter sleep during the cold season which is quietly arriving.
I want to sleep and be in peace, that is all!
I got a letter from Kati. It's sweet to notice that people still write real letters. I think i'm going to see her in two weeks. I haven't seen her for such a long time that sometimes i feel myself like orphan. Because she is not included in annoying and exhausting people out there, and when she was here, i always had a friend with who to talk and hang around. And of course, with who to argue. I have social life everyday because of my big family, and that's why i don't miss anyone else, but she denoted also a best friend, who i haven't had in my circle of friends.

The secrets of autumn

2005-09-24T21:54:00.000-07:00

So, here is the autumn. Leafs are changhing their green dress in different hues of orange, yellow and red. They still have got a little time left until the biting wind drops them down to the ground. Autumn here in the north is a real celebration of colours. I like it, but not the sinister darkness which is covering more and more time on each day.
It makes me depressed and hopeless.
The thing what i need right now is you to be with me in this cold hour. I'm feeling myself like a little blue harebell, about to break for the absence of water. I am waiting and dreaming everyday and walking around the house, or laying in my bed, without knowing what to do. I feel myself so weak and i know how easily you could destroy me.
You are my secret precious under my pillow, and i am waiting you to be true.

Could you?

2005-09-16T22:15:00.000-07:00

I am confused because of you and because of me. I don't want to have an ability to regret, but still it makes me confused. Can you just look at me and don't say a word. But i'm not sure what i want. Maybe i want you to tell me thousand words and just... i just want to be always sure that you are ok. I don't want to do or say anything what makes you sad, but sometimes i have to. You break too easily. But try to understand...
... that i don't know what i'm talking about.

Princess dresses and dinosaurs

2005-09-09T23:04:00.000-07:00

I am back at school and life rolls in a normal way. Well, if life ever can be normal.
My own things are fine, i can't invent anything what to complain right now.
It's not the same with other people around me. At least not with my sister. I have lived so close with her for my whole life and it's sad to think that maybe some parts which i thought to be her personality, are actually parts of her disorder, insanity... how ever i can it call.
But she is not like that, she is not insane. She is just too fragile for the compression of life.
I would like to say the most needed words, but they are lost.
I have been so worried about my siblings, that sometimes i can't even sleep. They have always been my best friends, my confederates and my dear ones.
When i was a child, i never needed other friends because i had my sisters and brothers, so i never felt alone and i always had someone with who to play. Maybe it's the reason why still nowadays i don't like to spend the time so much with my friends.
I wish i could give them back the childhood. The laughters, pleasant summer times and strawberries. Princess dresses and dinosaurs.
I wish i could open the door of past for them. When there wasn't real sorrow for us, and we didn't have to see badness anywhere around. When life was easy and we had everything we needed.
There they could be happy forever.

Horror

2005-08-30T12:14:00.000-07:00

Dark and windy night in the upstone's street where i'm living. The wind is squeaking and making the doors creak. There are little warm light spots inside couple of windows. But not in my window. I am completely alone in this little eternity which is lasting and lasting. Running and running towards the emptiness. Only the celebration of wind and dreary noises in the stairway. Everything else has stopped their every day moving and everyone has closed their substance in a clothes closet while going to sleep, everyone except me.
I am spending my last day of vacation by sitting quietly and watching the shadows while listening to the song of silence.
I wish this night would die away and take everything with it.

My mom

2005-08-24T12:58:00.000-07:00

I would be so lost without my mom. She has always helped me in everything and always been there when i have needed. She is so kind and intelligent and interesting person that i really wish i could be like she is. She is solicitous but not too rigorous and she always thinks just our best.
Sometimes i wonder how she hasn't got insane because of all of this and when she always has to arrange our things and stand our bad moods.
I really really adore her and i wish someday i could repay everything what she has done for me, though it's so much that i never could!

The road goes ever on and on

2005-08-20T15:00:00.000-07:00

I need too much time. For everything. I always need to get away from the concept of time. Sometimes i am so annoyed at myself that i don't know... if there only could be one closet where i could lock myself and get a bit of peace. But no closets no peace.
I know how to make myself happy. Because i have had a completely happy feeling and i know what it is. But at the moment... i don't want to get it right now. I have to arrange my things first before starting to be happy in that way! I know what i am going to do and so so so on. I have everything in control and now i have just this straight line road which i'm walking.
At least this is how i like to imagine.
I am telling myself that i am a human as others so i can walk on it.
Simple as what but same time so difficult.

Gone with the waves

2005-08-06T15:16:00.000-07:00

It's sad how people change and how some moments which once were important will be drowned in the bottom of a deep lake. While the time runs, memories stay behind and every words and promises which you made and in what you once believed and set your life to base on them, are gone.
When the wave of the age is washed over our substance, we leave things behind and discover other ones. Nothing can be always the same. Or then it could, but we don't have patience and will. And the courage to try.
It's just frustrating when i have something to hold on, something on what i base my life again, it's frustrating to notice that the waves will wash it away as everything else.

Poor night

2005-07-26T01:00:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in a dark living room and looking out from the window where street lamps are wearily shining. If i think well the feeling is very cowing, so maybe i just shouldn't think well. I better think that i am a green salad bowl on a black table, because salad bowls don't have mental life, which means that they don't also have cowing nights with wearily shining street lamps.
And that's much better.
I am secretly mad at one boy, because i can't listen to Pink floyd without remembering how he told that the first thing in his life is Pink floyd, second is women and third is cigarette.
How annoying indeed.

Flying somewhere high

2005-07-17T17:22:00.000-07:00

I am breaking and so surrounded by red clouds. From pink to redwine. Different hues of purple. Cotton balls everywhere, and i can see nothing else. Even my ears are full of cotton, i don't hear those voices which are telling me to come down from my little purple dream. And my eyes, they are blinded by rose water.
I know i am a little fool, but maybe all of us are. Maybe there is always one comet to catch us and take in colorful clouds or sunsets, or to the golden lakes of crystal mountains.
Maybe we just should take a step and reach the nearest one. And see what it has to show for us.

Away

2005-07-03T20:50:00.000-07:00

I want to leave again. The feeling creeps always inside me. And i count days for the moment when i can go and leave everything here. Every faces, every words, every laughters, every weepings.
I am so castaway and wrecked. I don't know if the fault is in me or in the world. Or maybe it's just normal human behaviour. Though i wish i could sometimes disengage myself from my dreams for a second and just be centred in the moment. But on the other hand i don't have any moment in what to be centred, so maybe it's better this way.
I just want to fly and dissapear in purple clouds.

Stone floors

2005-06-26T01:00:00.000-07:00

I am so worried about people. Their sadness make me sad. I wish i could say one nice word, give one warm smile or anything, i wish i could do anything that would give sunlight for this place. It needs it so much. But i am stagnant. I am stagnant and despaired about these castaway people around me when i can't pick them up to a ship which would sail somewhere far and give them the happiness they always needed. But i can't how much ever i want and it makes me cry so hard. It makes me feel that the world is too small for some people, that some people can't find the peace of mind though they would search for it everywhere. But it can't be like that. It just can't, we have to have something what to hold on. It's too cruel if for some of us here are just cold and hard stone floors when others have the sky full of laughing stars.

Don't let me fall

2005-06-15T18:09:00.000-07:00

Sometimes i'm afraid that what i'm searching for, doesn't exist in this world. In this life of unknown smiles and tears. It makes me feel so empty and afraid, though i know that maybe i am wrong. Maybe somewhere out there is something, somewhere behind a corner. Something that is hidden from my already closed eyes. And i know i can't give up when i haven't even started to search. If i do, i start to fall to an abyss, and i keep falling for eternity, over shining suns and reflections of rainbows in pools of water.
But maybe if i am right. Maybe if there is nothing to make me complete in this world. Maybe if i will walk my whole life in the fields picking up lupins and setting them to a vase on my window ledge.
Maybe if this is all.
Maybe if my life is a thrown away illusion.

My silk dream

2005-06-10T19:51:00.000-07:00

Time is drifting from my hands. I'm sitting here, in the corner, and watching how stars and planets are quietly falling down from the space. Glittering lines and comets spin around the scenery which i'm staring apathetically while years, ten years and centuries pass by my lost shivering little figure which feels itself so futile when it's not catching a comet and flying away, somewhere far far away from this little dark corner.
There is a big mystic space in front of me, but i can't just jump. I can't just jump and fly to something what i was so afraid of though it was one of my biggest silk dreams which i put around my neck.
But i need to pack up, i can't leave like this when i have nothing in my hands. I need to find the things, i need to settle them to my bag until i jump.
It's not same to me, it's not ok. I am steall weak, i haven't hatched out from my shell.
It's not easy to jump when you have all your life only knit silk dreams.

Finding my place and so on

2005-05-20T23:26:00.000-07:00

I hate to be a teen. How ridiculous sentence, indeed. But i do. I hate this time when i am "discovering myself and finding my place in the world". I am 16 years old, and discovering myself and finding my place in the world is very painful and difficult.
I don't have any soul mates, or anyone. And me, i am nothing. I am a little white spot in the blackboard, not even that. I am the face which nobody remembers later. I am nothing.
And i stuck on strange things and build dreams around them, and i'm so afraid that one day i find myself crying somewhere because of loosing the things that i never really had. It would be so typical of me. And still i continue doing that.
One day i will wake myself up from this dream about nothing, and then i start to live. I wish someone could make me alive. Now. I'm so tired to wait. I want to learn how to breathe.

One for the road

2005-05-16T16:49:00.000-07:00

Today morning i felt strangely happy. Everything was just so natural. Sun shone weakly and sent little light yellow beams to the living room where i was eating porridge. I never eat porridge in the morning, but now it was so lovely and normal. And when i walked to school, it rained a little and everything was so simple: i was walking to school in the spring. I love these moments when you don't need reasons for why you are doing something, why you are there where you are or why you even are you. When you just are, and it is normal, simple and sweet. So i just walked to the school in the pleasing drizzle, air was fresh and grit sand crunched under my shoes, and i didn't need anything else. This was everything.
At school R told: "today i stood at the tram stop with a broken umbrella. It was so sweet!" And i smiled, because i knew she felt the same.

Transparencies

2005-04-15T22:52:00.000-07:00

Now when summer is coming i actually remembered that last summer was kind of sad. I mean the feeling, it doesn't have any certain reasons. People always ask "why is it sad, why are you sad?" though it's not that simple. At least for me. Sometimes there is just a sad feeling floating in the corners. When i am sad, it's because of me. Because i would like to find myself someday. And i have always been lonely, even if i'm in the middle of a group of people. I have used to it so it's not a reason to be sad, but sometimes when in blue moments it arrives together with creeping sad feeling, then i am very depressed. But it most of the times pass in the calm morning when the sky is clear ans i can hear the boiling of coffee and my thoughts are clear as the sky.
And there are always dreams, those little transparencies which i'm holding and which for i hold my life. They keep me awake and alive.
But sometimes there are moments when the sadness mixtured with other things arrives again. And it gets into your dreams. It gets there and spreads emptiness all around it. And when you look at your hands, there are no transparencies left. They are flying away with the cruel wind which is wanting to throw them away from the fringes of life.
Maybe you'll get them back after calming down or after sleeping. But have you ever experienced worse thing than being without your reasons to hold your life.
Even if lasts just for a fast over flying second.

Me

2005-04-07T18:20:00.000-07:00

Sometimes i like to imagine that i am somebody else. That i am a girl in traffic lights, wearing blue boots. Or that i am me, but a different me. Me what i always wanted to be, but what i never was.
Me who i would like to be independent, smart and sweet. Me who would have sad moments in life but what i always got over. Me as friendly and kind. Me with a smile and a cup of coffee.
But i am worse than my ideal me.
I am me as sentimental and drifter. I am me crying without reasons. I am me with too odd thoughts that i can't handle. I am me with a brown cardigan.

Yesterday and eternity

2005-04-01T03:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday i saw a parched barbie doll driving by me by a bike with a psychopath smile on her face. Then i also saw three little boys who looked like me, Kati and Sonja if we were kids and if we were boys.
BUT. Today was the first spring day after the winter. Spring is beautiful, spring is fresh. I just can't see it because it's dark outside.
Now i would like to fly away from the window. Fly upon the world, upon big cities which never sleep and their glimmering lights and people somewhere in the middle of it. People who are living their happiest moment in life, they are so happy that they just would like to cry. And though the moment is as soon away as a flash in the sky, they don't worry about tomorrow because for a second life feels so wonderful that it's like a miracle full of stars and nights without agony.
But could it ever last a little bit more?

Running

2005-03-27T21:07:00.000-08:00

It's so wrong that today isn't friday. It should be! It feels like friday, i don't know.
I was at Sonja's during the weekend with Kati. We watched Shrek 2 and Moulin rouge and in the night we watched Friends episodes. A called me and asked if we can do something, she sounded like sad. I don't know why, she never tells me straight if something is wrong.
It felt all the time that i needed to go home though i have nothing to do here. I think my head is full of sawdust. I can almost hear the sound. What kind of sound sawdust makes...?
It's just so useless how we are always waiting for something. There's never a moment when we can just calm down for a second and be without running towards the things what we are waiting for. And when we have reached and got them, then there are new things and we roll again in the same endless rolling space. I watched an old home video where was me at the age of 4 and now it's so long time of it and all i have done is just waiting for the things. Is there never a silent minute when we have all we ever ran for?

Beside them

2005-03-03T22:12:00.000-08:00

Today i was two times in the movies. I really don't have money for that but still i go to the movies too often. If you have seen Amélie, i like to do the same as she does in the cinema: look at people's faces. How in the wonderful scenes they seem to be so sincerely amazed and affected, and in the sad ones they cry just like they would be inside the screen, living with those people of the stories. In the movies you can always forget the life what you are living and dive to another world.
It's also funny to look at people in the busy streets. All of them are just walking in hurry to somewhere, just like they would be little fish in the big ocean, just swimming and swimming without a destiny. But though they look like nobodies, all of them have own stories, own sorrows and joys that you can't find out, because you will forget those faces when they have passed away, defile your life. When i walk in the streets, i like to stare straight into the eyes of a person who is passing by. It's nice to see their reactions. Usually they just turn their confused faces down, but sometimes they look back and smile. And you would like to stop them there forever. Freeze them into calm statuses without hurry and stress. Just a little smile on their face.

Stars

2005-03-02T19:15:00.000-08:00

I feel a little hapless. Sometimes it feels like i don't have rights to be sad because what i'm without? Everything just feels sometimes so lost and every things are full of emptiness. I always try to live in the future, because it helps me in this moment. But then i just fall down from there. I know i will find things in my life and i have still much life to live. But sometimes i would like to just stay to my bed in the morning and give up everything. Because what there really is what i should fight for? Why should i catch hold of a comet and fly to the globe from my little home planet, like little prince did. I just need something to be complete, and i don't know what is it.
I know i won't feel the same tomorrow anymore.
So what my problem even is?

Keeping it all in a bottle

2005-02-11T23:30:00.000-08:00

This bottle is green and it's sailing on the sea. In high seas. I have binoculars and i'm watching, trying to find a verdant land of rainbows. But it's so empty, now i can't hear even the call of seagulls. Nothing. My tongue is dry and i just sit inside the bottle. Maybe the land appears to the horizon on one another lonely day. Maybe i can open my mouth on that same day. And maybe i start to live. Or then there isn't any lands, maybe the world is just a big ocean and seagulls which are fighting against their death. If they are too tired to fly, they fall down to the sea until it changes it's color to black. They are so fool because they think that just flying forever above the endless sea is something to fight for.

...i always hold on things that aren't real. And if i lose them i feel so empty. Though i never even had them. If i have a flower in my fist, it will fade.

I can hear them crashing.

It seems all the seagulls have fallen into the sea.

I hate nights... Why they always attack without a warning and make you think things that you don't even know how to think. And so on. But morning can be quiet too... and day and and. No they won't, don't worry, i'm not a schizophrenic, i'm just thinking things that i don't even know how to think. How simple.