Shigeru Ban is a great Japanese architect, but I won't bore you no more, just check that out:
ヴィラ K
壁のない家
写真家のシャッター・ハウス
楕円虚の家
ナインブリッジズ ゴルフクラブハウス
Thursday, 21 October 2010
I hate to do this twice a day
But today, instead of doing all that yummy schoolwork I'm supposed to do, I think I might just tell you, or show you, about Shigeru Ban.
Shigeru Ban is a great Japanese architect, but I won't bore you no more, just check that out:
Shigeru Ban is a great Japanese architect, but I won't bore you no more, just check that out:
Jose Gonzalez, my therapist
What's the point
if you hate, die and kill for love.
What's the point with a love that
makes you hate and kill for.
The point is, my dear Jose, that there is nothing else to live for.
The point is, my dear Jose, you are right, there is none.
if you hate, die and kill for love.
What's the point with a love that
makes you hate and kill for.
The point is, my dear Jose, that there is nothing else to live for.
The point is, my dear Jose, you are right, there is none.
Monday, 18 October 2010
Reverse antennae
Can you feel yourself closer to death every second of the day? Maybe if you realised that you would stop being a fucking loser and do something with yourself.
You know it's worth it when you won't be able to forget it. Watch your lovers cut their heads off- pick them up and keep them in your heart forever.
Let's not fuck this up, we only have one shot- really.
Then you have to love those moments that you know you will remember.
6am biking and freezing to death. Getting home bruised and covered in blood. It's okay baby I don't feel anything, it's too cool for my little red soldiers to run screaming. Yesterday I woke up with no memory and no place to stay.
Let's not fuck this up, we only have one shot- really.
There's no such thing as depression here.
Saturday, 16 October 2010
Epiphany from fish
Wow, it's been a really long time hasn't it? A lot has happened, hence my disappearance. The most impactful had to be the loss of my dear Fry, named after Stephen Fry, or Fry from Futurama, whichever you prefer. Fry is what I call my darling computer, and until about a month ago it has served as quite the loyal companion.
However it is getting fixed, and in the mean time I have acquired a new laptop, or notebook as they call them, and am now in the process of choosing a name for it.
Leave me comments with name suggestions, and reasons, if you want. If not, I'll let you know what I chose next time.
Beyond that, my auntie died a while ago, a while being a very short while. I wasn't very close to her, especially after I moved out of Finland and only see her about once or twice a year, both times within the same month.
But I remember being at my gran's house in the summer when I was an itty bitty child, not much taller than a bulldog but somehow much louder, my aunt would park herself and her caravan (gypsy heritage, I must point out) for the whole summer. She came to fish, and I stayed with her whenever I could because I loved the feeling of the rocking boat and the excitement when you felt that line tense. Sometime your whole body filled with euphoria when you drew that heavy lump of edible goodness out of the water, and then that moment of fear and sadness when you watch your aunt smash it's head onto the side of the boat four or five times, until the brains begin spilling and the eyes are hanging out, and you can be sure it's dead.
This past summer I'd noticed she'd gotten much older, much faster than I thought. Since she's a smoker, I figured it's that that's aging her.
And I suppose it was.
Lung cancer.
Everyone in my family dies of cancer. Someday it'll be my turn to choose a body part where it can attack.
The good thing about this, because yes- I hate to be an optimistic sod but - there is a good side, is that it's made me realise how easy it is to just disappear and die off. I don't want to disappear, and I don't want to waste a single fucking day.
That's why I won't be sad for my aunt, because she wasn't sad for those fish, and because she doesn't care I'm not sad because she's dead. Besides, she wouldn't have wanted me to be sad. So I spent a day being sad, frustrated, and got mad at people I love, until I ate some fish and remembered, and I didn't care any more.
The funeral's tomorrow, and I'm going to celebrate.
Good day, ladies and gentlemen, good day.
However it is getting fixed, and in the mean time I have acquired a new laptop, or notebook as they call them, and am now in the process of choosing a name for it.
Leave me comments with name suggestions, and reasons, if you want. If not, I'll let you know what I chose next time.
Beyond that, my auntie died a while ago, a while being a very short while. I wasn't very close to her, especially after I moved out of Finland and only see her about once or twice a year, both times within the same month.
But I remember being at my gran's house in the summer when I was an itty bitty child, not much taller than a bulldog but somehow much louder, my aunt would park herself and her caravan (gypsy heritage, I must point out) for the whole summer. She came to fish, and I stayed with her whenever I could because I loved the feeling of the rocking boat and the excitement when you felt that line tense. Sometime your whole body filled with euphoria when you drew that heavy lump of edible goodness out of the water, and then that moment of fear and sadness when you watch your aunt smash it's head onto the side of the boat four or five times, until the brains begin spilling and the eyes are hanging out, and you can be sure it's dead.
This past summer I'd noticed she'd gotten much older, much faster than I thought. Since she's a smoker, I figured it's that that's aging her.
And I suppose it was.
Lung cancer.
Everyone in my family dies of cancer. Someday it'll be my turn to choose a body part where it can attack.
The good thing about this, because yes- I hate to be an optimistic sod but - there is a good side, is that it's made me realise how easy it is to just disappear and die off. I don't want to disappear, and I don't want to waste a single fucking day.
That's why I won't be sad for my aunt, because she wasn't sad for those fish, and because she doesn't care I'm not sad because she's dead. Besides, she wouldn't have wanted me to be sad. So I spent a day being sad, frustrated, and got mad at people I love, until I ate some fish and remembered, and I didn't care any more.
The funeral's tomorrow, and I'm going to celebrate.
Good day, ladies and gentlemen, good day.
Sunday, 5 September 2010
Is lying the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off?
So I'm making this self portrait out of clay for my HIGHER LEVER IB ART CLASS (it makes me feel more talented when I emphasise it like that).
So far I look like a potato that came out of an elephant's arse.
That's not what I want to talk about though, today is devoted to... lies. I've always believed that lying is completely human. Everyone does it, whether they want to or not, whether they believe it's right or not. I've always told people "it's okay if you lie to me, I'll probably lie to you too."
Thing is, I don't mind lying as long as I never find out.
But then once, last week, I did. And that hurt. It's worse when it's something petty. Like "I have to catch a train" when really you just don't want to hang out (though that didn't happen, it's just an example). Now I've completely changed my POV, my opinion.
Don't lie. Unless it's to a teacher, you know, my dog ate my homework. Or to a parent- yeah I was having coffee with my friends when really you were at the motel two blocks away, getting your mind blown (or other things). Those things are better left unsaid.
"I didn't do anything" oh yeah? Apparently you got your dick sucked.
"I have to go" oh yeah? You're still outside.
JUST TO POINT OUT, these are examples, they have not happened to me.
So now... I think people should just talk. I've also believed that lying is not the same as not telling the truth. That you can always just shut up, but that, THAT hurts just as bad.
I think, and I have completely changed my opinion, that honesty is best in certain situations.
And you know what?
I'm going to stick to that from now on. Okay, okay, maybe it's nice to pretend and all- but not when there's a potential to hurt someone. Savvy?
Kristiina no lie no more (excludes teachers and family members).
Regina Spektor has all the answers. Seriously.
So far I look like a potato that came out of an elephant's arse.
That's not what I want to talk about though, today is devoted to... lies. I've always believed that lying is completely human. Everyone does it, whether they want to or not, whether they believe it's right or not. I've always told people "it's okay if you lie to me, I'll probably lie to you too."
Thing is, I don't mind lying as long as I never find out.
But then once, last week, I did. And that hurt. It's worse when it's something petty. Like "I have to catch a train" when really you just don't want to hang out (though that didn't happen, it's just an example). Now I've completely changed my POV, my opinion.
Don't lie. Unless it's to a teacher, you know, my dog ate my homework. Or to a parent- yeah I was having coffee with my friends when really you were at the motel two blocks away, getting your mind blown (or other things). Those things are better left unsaid.
"I didn't do anything" oh yeah? Apparently you got your dick sucked.
"I have to go" oh yeah? You're still outside.
JUST TO POINT OUT, these are examples, they have not happened to me.
So now... I think people should just talk. I've also believed that lying is not the same as not telling the truth. That you can always just shut up, but that, THAT hurts just as bad.
I think, and I have completely changed my opinion, that honesty is best in certain situations.
And you know what?
I'm going to stick to that from now on. Okay, okay, maybe it's nice to pretend and all- but not when there's a potential to hurt someone. Savvy?
Kristiina no lie no more (excludes teachers and family members).
Regina Spektor has all the answers. Seriously.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)