Security

Apparently, my apartment door was left open, so the guy maintaining the house wanted to be helpful and notify me of that.

The only thing I remember is how I half-chased him out, while he repeated "open" in broken English.

Jesus fucking christ, strangers in my home have always been the worst part of my nightmares. How the fuck do I go to sleep now?

My laptop is not super-expensive, but contains everything study and work related, besides all my pictures (only "backup" on the blogs). Lying on the table.

Ashtray used 4h ago on the window. Provably the smell of tobacco.

Keys to my everything.

Wallet.

If I wasn't scared shitless, paranoid about someone hiding somewhere here, I should really go check everything.

I wrote a song and not a day passed until I realized that it's actually the 4 chord song in disguise

F#m E D A E Fm

The masterful rhythms can't hide that now. Also, after years of talking about this, how can I still come back.

Other news: guests, who got me real bread and rumors from Latvia; headaches; drinking with almost no physical consequences; too many guitars for a flat my size; a surprise performance in 44h from now on, holy shit; work not done; plans on running away from home just to be rediscovered 30 years later as a bum, so when I pick up a guitar to play, my talents don't matter but people like me because they don't expect bums to play guitar. YES, JELLY.

No pictures, because you got like a million last post.

Oh shit, deadline for random mammals. fuck me, not tonight

Music should be nice

I believe it was the Latvian magazine "Rīgas Laiks" that had an interview which mentioned that "Calling a musical piece "background music" is the worst insult of them all." Which is agreeable in a way, of course.

What worries me more is that some people completely ignore the possibilities that music can give us. Next week I'm playing with such people, who don't understand how the organization of a song should be done, but all my suggestions are waved away, "it's more about the feeling, it should come from the heart" no, fuck you, it can be done better, it could be done beautifully, and the public is partially to blame if they only require a bunch of kids on stage.

Hear hear

"Don't write about today's rehearsal."

Alright, so the past few days I was studying, working, writing songs and then there were joints in the living room. Nothing write-worthy, but, speaking of living rooms:

Once upon a time, I was this 12-year-old kid who would discover atheism and immediately dive into it, without any context or "arguments" for the "cause", and start slurring believers on social portals, because I figured there's a war or something. And being on the opposing side is always more cool.

A few years later, my attitude changed to "I don't know" and "let's not talk about this", which still works, because I'm not going to convince anyone. And the first question, inevitably, is "do you believe in god?" which, in some units that I can't describe, equals "do you still love her?" question. Always this philosophical and emotional implication, that is not unlike the girls who drink, talk to drunk people in parties and go study psychology.

I'd like to go to a psychiatrist, though. It would be just talking and someone listening, and maybe giving some good advice or, even better, prescription medicine to spice up the day, no?

Back to the point, the details of which I have forgotten, since an hour has past since the third paragraph.

No, I've changed my mind.

Here's a song.

Here are some pictures I took over the past 2 months.

Number one. The young artist expresses his winter depression through this dark piece. Notice the bright lights cast by park lamps that are opposed by the tall leaning street lamp. The latter is built for practical purposes and is not more or less than just "convenient to have". Metaphore of the working class crisis. The warm colors and a Christmas feeling is used ironically to reflect author's contempt of capitalism. Situated almost in the center, a sign "no parking" symbolizes the countless limitations we have today.

Number two. I accidentally took this today, as I was trying to figure out settings for an ID card portrait, before giving up and asking my flatmate to take a proper picture of me.

Number three. Couldn't get the colors right while taking the picture, couldn't get them right while editing, so just clicked "auto-enhance color" and saved. Teachers would be in awe.

Number four. I still love my fucking view, and I love the moon. Fuck Mars.

Did I mention the moon?

The Moon

For the past weeks, I want to go to the Moon. When I said this to a coursemate, he asked, if that's a bar. But, no, the actual white moon in the sky. Zero interest in Mars, that's just a red desert. I don't think there's much interesting to see for now, all the "there was water here" statements are (as far as I know) based on results from testing, and laser zapping and mining and so on, it's not very visible for a visitor, who has no knowledge in geology.

And Mars is a red desert. You can get very similar things on Earth. I see pictures from Mars, and it looks nice, but I can't really comprehend that it's a different planet. And it's further away, but even that knowledge doesn't make it better.

The Moon, though, is white. Black sky with bright dots, a large earth from the distance (just a dot from Mars), yellow sun on black canvas and a gray scale desert, no movement, no air, no sound, except the vibrations in your suit. Only colors of the surface are from the star-spangled flag. Fuck yes. That gives you the satisfaction, because it can be nothing else than a rock in space.

Mars, no. You go there and look around and see Earth, and as you wander around, you expect someone or something to come out from behind a mountain. But that never happens. And there's even atmosphere, which  create something of an Earth-like sky.

The only things I'd love to see on Mars are the huge mountains. Mountains are cool.

Whoops

NOTE: I was high and posted this in the wrong blog yesterday.

I love celebrating 4/20 and planning to write my blog post about it and then just sitting there stoned for hours and realizing it's 1:29 in the next day.

But, in all seriousness, after countless headaches, after panic attacks about liver cancer and dying, I'm trying to quit alcohol. I started quitting several times - some days I just forgot I'm not drinking anymore, some days I forgot why. And some days I was just socially required to drink to make others more happy. Still, mixing wine with water and pretending that my diet is somewhat serous.

I have people coming over next week. Most likely. Probably. Hopefully.

Unless I work really fucking hard until the end of April, I'll be completely broke next month.

Each is concerned with their immediate need

April 15 is now important because of bombings. This will reflect in various policies of US and allies. Almost 200 injured, three confirmed dead (current data).

I crie evry time.

The same day 55 are killed in bombings throughout Iraq. And, I'm not blaming anyone in particular, but, according to every fucking news company that I check, Boston bombing is more important. Every murder is equally bad, assholes. "But America is a civilized western country and should be safe hurr durr" US has started questionable wars, resulting in deaths of thousands of civilians. It has raised generations of self-obsessed assholes, and the capitalism, as much as it works economically, creates a tense and over-competitive environment*. It is bound to have enemies, it is bound to have crazy people.

I can't wait for the announcement of the suspects to induce a new waves of racism, revenge, labeling and madness.

Meanwhile, after countless documentaries, books, escaped citizens as guest speakers and nuclear warfare threats, internet still produces memes and recycled jokes about North Korea, while millions suffer, eat rats and are sent to concentration camps (along with all relatives and unborn children and grandchildren) for folding a newspaper wrong.**

But, yeah, Boston bombing is totally the most significant thing going on.

*Exaggerated capitalism in South Korea has lead to incredibly high suicide rates, according to Blaine Harden. The only country to exceed their rates is Greenland, where 20% of population have tried to kill themselves at some point of their lives.

**This rant is inspired by this book and documentaries including Land of Whispers and Inside North Korea, to name a few.

Graphs

Most of my 3 readers will know that occasionally I draw incredible paintings, sometimes they're presented in a comic blog.

As of last week, I've began a series, featuring random mammals and their questionable ways of life.

Here's the link, and here's a graph, because everyone fucking loves graphs.

And then suddenly disappointment

In my up-until-now favorite university course, we were explained a task in the future - a live show, at least for 45 minutes, and, what the fuck, I have no idea how to do it. Most of the lesson I was just sitting and trying to figure out which role I could do without failing. Even the ever so easy cameraman task is super complicated now, since there are three cameras to be moved around the studio between sets during short interludes, they have to follow a hands and, ah, fuck. There goes my confidence.

The street is currently being cleaned by a pair of very loud, very slow trucks for the third time tonight. If the road is not shining and spotless tomorrow, and if the trucks ever come back during the night, I'll run up to them with nails, screws, broken glass, lego's and knives to throw underneath the tires.

Scratch that, it would probably take even louder trucks to tow these away.

Since I got an e-book reader and I was reading for most of the day, I tried googling "must-read books". The first list had Hunger Games at the top, so I just lost my faith in this list, and any other lists on the internet.

Apparently

Yet again I've been concentrating on the primary blog. 

During the past week, numerous concerts were held in Tallinn, and I saw two Latvian bands, a Latvian artist, and, today, Sun Araw. And, oh, not only it has been inspiring, I have to rethink my own musical activities, because it is not going as well as I expected, especially since we've lost the bass for now.

On the other hand, at least I work with someone that is actually giving an input.

I was ready to write more today, but hungry as fuck, so here's a picture with terrible quality.

And the drums the drums the drums

Concerns include missed work, school, money spent and the fact that some things are so good that nothing else can even approach it.

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life is not fun anymore