I allow it to get to me

Why the fuck do people claim to "fucking love science", if all they do is post pictures of galaxies, puns and quotes by a)pseudo-scientists or b)scientists who have done work way beyond comprehension of the teen readers. The only "science" part of the fucking facebook page is high school level knowledge, jokes from a sitcom and news articles posted on 9gag. Why would anyone be smug about it? That's not loving science, that is loving to brag about something you never did. I get the joke with "sign sounds like sine", hahahahaha, that makes me better than the others. Never mind that this is basic knowledge everyone was supposed to learn six years before university. You are not special if you do what is required, even if you sort of do it better than others.

If there wasn't an exam in 8 hours, I would really love to argue with myself. The first paragraph was just me trying to get rid of nasty emotions, but, as usual with the cases, it was rather emotional. One facebook page is probably not responsible for the degradation of society and I shouldn't care if people enjoy sharing the posts.

The music is killing me.

War of the worlds

Today I remembered why drinking alone was appealing, I don't really make an ass out of myself in front of others. Hopefully, no permanent damage is done, but you never know.

Somehow I managed to end up stuck with a Russian lady while waiting for the bus, and throughout the bus ride. The music on my playlist seemed incredibly appealing, but I was forced to try to communicate in a language I really don't fucking know well enough. Arguing with my grandmother about whether I'm cold or not is difficult in Latvian, yet alone with a stranger in Russian. Jesus.

Now I've got lots of homework. And I somehow don't care at all. Wish me luck.

Here's another picture of my district, in case you missed the proud presentation on facebook.

you don't fucking say

This morning people woke up to snow, both in Tallinn and Riga. By the time I got out of the bed, others had posted galleries of snow all over facebook and I haven't had breakfast yet.

I went to the shop to find that Latvian cookies "Selga" cost 0.55 euros a package, so I bought 4 of them. That's actually terrible - I did not need them and I don't have a lot of money left, but they were cheap and had Latvian letters on them. Irresponsible as fuck. 

And then I finally went out to take pictures with my tripod, which is nice. I can't understand my urge to be productive after 2am.

This is Riga.

And this is Tallinn.

How am I even so affected

So, apparently this was one of those evenings. Completely sober and I wrote a song, that I'll probably sing when I get drunk, probably to all the people I shouldn't. The dreams messed me up again and now I can't get the problems out of music as well - even without the newborn lyrics, every other phrase in every other song is fucking getting to me.

There's one good thing about today. Somehow I managed a 14 hour sleep, and with my clothes on. I should really meet other people.

If cities were people, Tallinn is an asshole

I was sitting in the bus and translating some marketing text for some extra money, when a thought came to mind: you know, going back to Tallinn does not feel bad at all - I basically got a small job, I'm being responsible enough to come back for a choir class, life is decent and so on.

Then the bus stopped at the terminal, I politely waited for the others to clear the way and went out in the rain, to find my bag in a puddle. The bus driver had the balls to preach in Russian to me about how I should have come sooner (than the fucking 20 seconds that had passed since full stop) and I'm afraid he didn't even understand what I called him in Latvian.

The ATM said I only have 20 euros now, for the rest of the week.

Despite the continuous rain, I took my suitcase, my shoulder bag and the tripod and went off to my bus stop. That's only 30 minutes, I'll be fine with my music in earphones, hood, scarf and a good mood, right? And then every single puddle on the street was the size of an ocean and every single car fucking splashed me head to toe and that was somehow not what I expected.

Now I'm hungry, wet and I missed the fucking choir, which was the whole point of coming here so early.

Inspiration has never gone

If it wasn't for all the various new and interesting things to learn in Tallinn, there are a few reasons for me to live there instead of Riga. I came for about three days and the bus, leaving in 12h, doesn't seem appealing. The autumn here is nice, there are clearly more cats in my district than in Nõmme, the university here doesn't make wine, but is sort of responsible for creating two of my favorite bars of the city, the people fucking get my jokes, there's fussball, my family is feeding me all the time with incredible food (probably, the incredibility is due to a comparison to my "potatoes with salad" "potatoes with sour cream" " pasta with this nice sauce I found" and so on). 

Of course, I think spending time away just increases my joy to return, and there's no reason to consider leaving the school, come on. And I just started to feel socially comfortable there.

Something tells me that even the old Riga looks better than Tallinn. While not as actually old, more rational, more precise, more colorfully thought through (at least the parliament building isn't fucking pink). And why haven't I seen parks in Tallinn? There's this one next to Viru Keskus, which is hardly anything special, then there's the flatland to the north of the old town, is that even a park, there are some in my district, but who has the urge to even come to my fucking district. Parks are awesome and they should be all over the city, as in Riga, or at least more discoverable than in Tallinn.

No time for writing means interesting things to do, so the less, the better for me. 

The Deal

I had a nice acoustic jam with some classmates today. Unfortunately, differing tastes made it all very awkward at times when we couldn't decide what to play. Somebody said "coldplay" and I could not afford to be bitchy at the time. As we sang the song, I was reading the lyrics and hating myself for fucking identifying with them.

There was a party yesterday and that was a great party. I like people and I like to touch them, even if I have to develop awesome back massages as an excuse to. A distressing factor: the previous sentence is actually the least creepy or secret thing I could say when talking about the fucking party.

And then there was the previous night with chess, filming, doing actual homework (not mine, of course), drinking, talking, messing around and just being with people I sort of want to be around with.

And I got a dinosaur.