flowers, kittens and sun

head over heels - the first caught ideas

Ta-daa, first impressions of the ideas catcher. Turned out as a wee bit diary-ish, but I thought I'd just sort of let it flow, and kind of see where it leads me. So, reactions?
Oh, and I could claim that I didn't edit the scans to preserve an artistic, vintage-incompleteness-very-philosophic vibe, but alas, I was just lazy. Forgive me.

The other thing is that, as some people might have read in my bio on that site you should not click, I'm pursuing a career as a journalist, and basically this is my own magazine- I want to kind of use this space more as the micro-mag it is and would like to know your thought and opinions on this. So, please be nice and take a few seconds for the poll on top of this page and feel free to leave any comments, suggestions, demands, death threats, marriage proposals... (I also like presents, so leave a comment if you want to send me a present.)

thanks and luuv y'all xx (what the hell is this. I'm turning into a kind of Carles. But he's successful, at least, so I don't mind. Just wait till I start calling you guys 'bb')

doe eyes

How does one forget unsolved mysteries? How does one numb the curiosity that blooms and blossoms, and becomes addiction, when it's as clear as daylight that to satisfy it, it needs the time and the intimacy one will never have? You shared yourself from what seemed to be a broken telephone box, though you never displayed yourself as they wanted you to, and they called you a tabula rasa. They thought they overestimated you. They thought they invented you. They couldn't work out the bits that leaked through your shell, that didn't fit neither their idea of a blank canvas, nor even the image they thought they projected onto you. So they probed you, and probed, but you remained silent. Frustration made them call you dull, but in reality they just couldn't get hold of the prism that would reveal the rainbow of your white light. You're unpredictable to them, you fob them off with superficialities, but I haven't yet figured out why. You're inexplicable, as long, at least, as you don't want to be explained. And it's impossible to say if it's wisdom or fear that makes you hide yourself. That makes you hide your doe eyes. It seems as if you knew that the key to your inner world lies somewhere at the bottom of these doe eyes, as if you carefully tried to conceal any trace that might lead to them. Your sunglasses are the walls of your castle, aren't they.

It's this riddle that fascinates me, the prospect of something unique, wonderful, exciting, overwhelming. I never understood why, but people confide in me. They share their secrets, wishes and anxieties with me when they barely know me, when I don't even really care. I wonder if you would confide in me. If I am making a start, understanding that I don't understand. If I myself am secret enough to lift yours. If I could try my luck with you and watch these doe eyes in silence, to finally see a distant shine, and then follow the light.

jglfhsfjkshf 2012

Yeah. So, yeah, well, this is it. This is 2012. I hope you didn't get an epileptic fit at the sight of this picture, if yes, I apologise in advance. I don't know why, since I wrote that song or poem in the last post I feel this kind of stubborn desperado-aggression inside, and I let it out with the brightest colours, the dashiest music... and I'm SO buying myself an acid wash denim jacket- that's not a resolution, that's a plan. And if I'm silly enough, I'll print this drawing on a shirt, haha.

I won't talk much about 2012 because I prefer not to remember most of it, though a few details pushed my life in a nice direction- who knows. I don't know, I just hope. 

Anyway, I want to say T H A N K S guys, for checking all the weird stuff I post on here, leaving comments and compliments. I wish you a fantastic NYE party, the brightest fireworks and smiles, and successful 2013. See you next year. XX

a stray cat

Those moments when I find myself sitting on my bed, petrified, suffocating at the thought of all the things that need to be done, things that will happen, things that will follow the latter, things I need to make happen, people I need to talk to, decisions I need to make... the thought of life itself, actually, of the entity of it all tumbling from nowhere upon my poor head. A universe, an endless chain of events and changes. My brain steaming, my eyes widened with terror and my tongue unable to move for a few moments. Weird? Oh well... this is me. I guess I'm something of a stray cat: I don't want any obligations, any responsibilities... aimlessness is all there is.

the mind's marshlands

"...And so I live my life from one little oblivion to another, from word to word, recalling every little movement  and bits of courtesy...and re-inventing reality, sucked into the realm of cunning, sweet 'what if's...but who am I actually fooling? No one but myself...but again, I am not doing it. It just happens."