Back to hell

Why do I always fall off my chair when I see that my timetable consists of FOUR literature classes a week?
Anxiety is the word I'm looking for.

Vabadus pole lihtne sõna

It's easier to leave than to be left behind

It has been a great journey!
You will be missed.
Farewell, red!











We need room for the new sophisticated Hanna.

Give me a knife to open up the sky's veins

Fundamentally unfair.

Mirjam is going to Denmark.
Britta is going to Wales.
Kelli is going to Italy.
Kadri is going to Portugal.
Kristiina is in the Netherlands.
Erika is in Argentina.

And me? I'm listening to Barbie girl in Russian.

Fables will explode

Only if you believe they are able to explode. From time to time, I tend to believe what I think and write. And sometimes unexpected things do happen. Extraordinary things. To wake you up from the worn out daily routine.
A few days ago I was coming out of the library and entirely satisfied with myself (for I had payed my depth and I was completely floating in Hannaland.) I laughed at the trolleybuses. Stupid system, I thought. No matter what color the traffic lights are, you still have to wait another round. So I took my time. And guess what? The traffic light was bloody green but the trolleybus just stood there like a phlegm. Suckers, I laughed, and hopped on.
So, by this time I was feeling unusually pleased with myself. I took out my new Murakami novel and started reading.
Then, out of the blue, this guy comes up and smiles: "Excuse me, do you know, the stop Lepistiku?"
I took some time to go over what he had said and automatically responded with a grin: "I will tell you when the right stop comes, okay?" I had spotted his huge backpack.
"Okay," he smiled.
A connection.
Some minutes pass. I cannot focus on my book anymore. We keep peaking at each other. I go over and start a conversation. It turns out he is originally from Israel, but started his journey from Mongolia and has traveled all the way from Russia. He has been in Estonia just for an hour.
"So what do you do, just travel?"
"Yeah, just travel. You know." (laughs)
I laugh. It turns out he is going to his CS host in Tallinn. We talk some more. I tell him I know exactly what it's like to travel with a huge backpack. We laugh again.
"The next stop should be yours."
"Oh, really?"
He asks me if I know an old bookstore here. I don't. I ask why. He says he wants to give some of his books he has already read to a bookstore. I search my memory, but nothing comes up. He asks me whether I like reading. I do. He says he will give them to me instead. There isn't much time left. Always at the last minute, we both grin.
In the end, he pulls out a bag of books before the trolleybus stops. I am six books richer.
I thank him. I smile.
"I guess it's my lucky day today."
"No, it's my lucky day."
And he his gone.

As I walk home I cannot help grinning. Only one word comes to mind - life. In the most pure meaning.

In the middle of the bottle is a little of the way you talk

Night after night
We fall apart
(It's quite alright)

Drinking music, maestro!

I admire addicts

In a world where everybody is waiting for some blind, random disaster, or some sudden disease, the addict has the comfort of knowing what will most likely wait for him down the road. He's taken some control over his ultimate fate, and his addiction keeps the cause of death from being a total surprise.

38,5 degrees

Surprise. You have just been walking around with a fever for three days.

Turn around?
Probably.