excuses and shit

I don't want to do blogs anymore, I want to write music and some stories once in a while. My blogging peaked with the tragedy which was loneliness in summer, but I don't feel lonely anymore. There's shit in Tallinn to do, there's people I enjoy meeting in Riga. Fuck it, could be worse.

And with that last sentence, there's not much to write about anymore.

Relationships: none, and I could live without.
Music: all is good.
Studies: could be better, as fucking always.
Work: could be worse, as always.

Now it's three in the morning and you're eating alone

Quoting lyrics in blog titles is just for a pale hope that other people will feel the same as you do while listening to the song.

In either case, here's the song. i VI III is the progression, and it works.

Tomorrow will be the day I go to English once again. Can't wait to murmur the excuse why this is the second time in the semester.

The end.

I like this picture, so I'll post it.

Real life

It shouldn't be a surprise, but when I had to juggle work, school projects, sleep and money saving, it was too hard and I didn't have a nice weekend and I still have not finished at least 3 things that I was planning to do.

On the other hand, yesterday was much worse, because directing was the same as trying to explain ideas to band members, and it fucking doesn't work, I don't know how to do it. And as I was walking home from the lost battle, I realized that my studies, hobbies, work and interests are so varied that I might turn out a decently interesting person after all. Of course, if I don't suddenly fail the university for some reason, or get sacked in a month of shitty job, or fail to do anything useful with the band, or find out that news are not a legitimate source for politics knowledge, or

Reality hits you hard, bro

Creative pause

Opening a blank page did not inspire me to write a beautiful article.

I had a test at school, I came home and made lunch, I went to choir, I came home.

Judging by the pace my life is currently going, I think I'm taking a pause to accumulate adventures to write about.

Smoker's habits

As I sit down to an empty article and think of what to write about, I always reach for hand cream, and then awkwardly sit with cream on palms, because now I can't write. Much better than sitting completely motionlessly. Maybe the same reason I reach for the smokes?

And, speaking of smoking, the worst five seconds happened five hours ago. I'm walking towards the shop on a rather narrow sidewalk. It's cold, so I have my gloves in pockets and a cigarette in my mouth by itself. A woman walks towards me and, not wanting to accidentally blow smoke in her face, take the cigarette out of my mouth with the mittens, but those are mittens and you can't handle the cigarette with mittens, so I play the Hot Potato with actually juggling a burning object in my hands, and while I do that, I miss the sidewalk and stumble. And, obviously, lose the smoke, as well as respect from the random stranger observing me.

HOW AM I THE ONLY ONE

I am not scared of the interview. The worries will begin when they take me. There are so many aspects that I have no clue about. Am I expected to look for clients on my own? Am I expected to understand how Latvian tax system works? Negotiating with local governments? Do I wear a suit to work every day? What if they don't think my hairstyle and shitty facial skin are appropriate for this type of job - whatever it is? 

Sidetrack. Why the fuck would evolution give humans cramps? I just googled and "The actual cause of night cramps is unknown". 

Six hours ago I read how scientists have connected brains of two lab rats that are thousand miles away. (BBC) The futuristic prognosis was that this might be a step towards millions of animals working together on a problem, a fucking Utopian joint intellect. And they can't explain the cramps?

I really hope my search skills suck, because this is not the world I like to live in. 

I forgot to do the electronics for tomorrow, shit