A bit Moore

I've almost forgotten how much I love poetry. 
Favourites of the day:


O my beloved, how divinely sweet
Is the pure joy when kindred spirits meet!
Like him the river god, whose waters flow,
With love their only light, through caves below,
Wafting in triumph all the flowery braids
And festal rings, with Olympic maids
Have decked his current, as an offspring meet
To lay at Arethusa's shining feet.
Think, when he meets at last his fountain bride,
What perfect love must thrill the blended tide!
Each lost in each, till mingling into one,
Their lot the same for shadow or for sun,
A type of true love, to the deep they run.
Thomas Moore

Enjoy your Wednesday, fellas.

i < 3 u
I don't understand... you can't have inequalities with imaginary numbers.

I still find it queer how those of us with the highest IQs are the ones who don't seem quite as smart.
But still seem the smartest of all.
Just maybe not academically.

I'm low on that scale.
Low on the need for reproduction. Like that.

This doesn't make much sense, it lacks in organisation. You'll have to excuse me.
Surely there's enough war to go around. You're not as complicated a jigsaw puzzle as you think, you just have a lot of pieces to be pieced together, and some of them look the same. A human eye can't distinguish between the shades.

It makes me shiver, this flow of information and knowledge.

And that is why I don't reproduce.
Or won't.
Or should not.
Not yet, anyway.

Let's do something differently

This is a more of a "let me tell you my problems since I have no one else to tell" post. You probably should not read on due to excessive amounts of whining and just general stupidity.

Hey, how are you?
Yeah good, good you know. School's going pretty good and my relationship is amazing! And you?
(This is where I think, well, I don't want to rain on their parade).
Yeah, fine as well, thanks.

How about, no? I'm not going to say I'm not okay, I'm perfectly okay. I'm just not good, and sometimes I wish someone could see that. And someone does.
Are you okay?
Yeah, yeah.
You sure?
Yeah, of course.
How about, no? When did it become unacceptable in my mind to not be okay? Why can't I just say "Hey, my name is Kristiina Heikura and this is what's bothering me: ..."

Of course, that's due to me not having good enough friends to do that. I love my friends. I have my chatter box girl friends, and I have my more friend-like friendships with people who know who they are, and I have my 3 very close friends... in Australia, Egypt, and South Africa. So I guess it's safe to say I don't really talk to any one about anything serious. Especially to my boyfriend- when is it an acceptable time to admit you might have more issues than they think?

Are you okay?
Umn... I guess so.
You guess so?
Well, not completely. But mostly yeah.
What's wrong?
Well... (I say well when I need to think of how to phrase what I want to say) how can I say this? I don't choose this, and I don't want this, but I don't think I have much chance of recovery right now. My parents haven't spoken to me since I got back from Paris, or well sorry I lie I lie, I do that sometimes and I'm sorry, my dad spoke to me, he was nice to me, until their love rekindled and now they're two little love birdies in love again. I'm not the type of person to be bitter about someone being back together, unless it's bad for all parties involved and trust me, this time they should be able to choose, or at least want this.
Why have a family with people you hate? Or at least strongly dislike. I have heard nothing but yelling and screaming and shouting and criticizing since I came back, when I actually hear something. Bring the buckets by the dozens because I think this might catch ablaze. This is going back to a place I don't like, back to some other time, with another person, to somewhere I don't visit and I don't think back to. Now it's inevitable though, because this is exactly where it is going. I would spill it, and tell you of that monster who spent four years with us, but let's be honest- you're not really that interested.
I have no one to tell this to.
I can't say, "Hey, I think my step-mum might be turning into a Päivi. I'm scared and I don't know what to do, since I don't speak to my dad and he wouldn't listen to me anyway."
I don't want to tell people I know, in case they don't listen, or in case they forget.

There's more to it, kids, but I'm pretty closed up when it comes to really personal things, and that's all that I can get through this door.
And now I'm done.

I promise I'll be back to normal posts in a few days.

Why do I smell?

Do you ever have that feeling where you just smell? You smell and no matter how many showers you take it doesn't rinse off. So you shake, and you shiver and you cover yourself in other smells because you don't want anyone to smell you. Cucumber. Lemon. Burberry beat. Deo. Air freshener.
When people pass you they scrunch up their nose and their eyes squint, they turn their head rapidly to one side and step away from you. You're dirty, covered in muck and dust, and everyone can see it, smell it, feel it. You emanate filth. That's what guilt and fear look like.

Some people say I think too much, so I thought about it and I think they should shut the fuck up.

Sometimes I feel like people can read my mind, because my mind, my thoughts, they're so loud and there's so many of them, how can they not hear? That's when I get filthy, and I feel like people can see everything I am and what I've done. And then I think- what have I done? Absolutely nothing.
Put some thought into it.

I was wondering if you felt the same way.
You already know I do.

Maybe slowly all that faux-filth will wash off, because it's there for no reason. You're picking it off, bit by bit. 'Cause every time I try something comes along, and it all comes back. I'm not guilty, because nothing I've done is a crime.

I'm just a bit annoyed.
Why?
It doesn't matter.
No, tell me.

Maybe this is why people turn to god. That overpowering feeling of guilt and filth and fear of not being loved and wanted- at least god will give you that. He'll wash you and love you and want you.
But although I prefer living in an imaginary world to reality any day, I think I'll put god off for a while longer. Let's see if I can really piss him off.

Let's partake in a bit of thought, in a bit of love, and let's get clean.

Collaborative blog

My good friend Bryn de Kocks and I have began a memoir-blog, in which we record dreams and random discussion.
If you guys care, you should check it out. We have pictures! :)

http://aetasvelox.blogspot.com/