Hello darkness my old friend

The title sounds kind of cheesy giving my age and high level of wisdom (do notice the sarcasm). A plain machine (medical student) isn't supposed to have time for existentialism and the fun of experiencing anguish and (outgrown) spleen at different levels.

Things and people have happened since I last visited this place. It has been a difficult journey and I am exhausted. I have experienced unbearable sadness in others' hearts.

I have no time for anyone: friends, family, myself.. They are all just names. I regret this very much and hope when this mental period ends some people will make me feel as naive as I was when I first wrote stuff here.
People have turned into objects.

The gravity is just playing with my nerves.

I am counting the days left in this trap.

Elage mulle kaasa

Üritan kirjutada blogi, mille pärast ma tulevikus piinlikkust tundma ei peaks. Ehk läheb õnneks: http://heamaailm.wordpress.com/

Elage minuga kaasa.

M sphincter moralis

Oeh.
Nüüd, kus ma olen vanaks ja igavaks jäänud, ei teagi, mida ja kuidas öelda.

Päris hea on olla, sest ülikool on põnev ja elu. Tahaks öelda "ka", aga eks ta tuleb ise.

Päris hea on olla, sest retseptorid elu kutsele on olemas. Ärge muteeruge. Või ostke vähemalt pilet Aafrikasse valmis.

Natukene halb on olla, et maailmapilt diferentseerub ja traagilisus väheneb.

Päris julge on olla, eeskujud selleks eluperioodiks on olemas. Kontakti saavutamine, naeratuste ja emotsioonide püüdmine, veider kiilumistunne. Püüdlemine nendesarnasteks.

Natukene halb on olla, et keegi on mu mulli purustanud. Pean koostama integratsiooniplaani aastateks 2010-2015.

Päris hea on olla, magasin täna öösel sama vähe, kui vanasti. Silmi kinni pannes näen energiat.

Häirivalt kummaline on olla, et kummalisi inimesi nii palju otsima peab. Neid ei mõelda ometigi ju välja?

Tragikoomiline, kuidas üleüldine kriitikavõime on alla igasuguse taseme. Satun iga jumalama filmist ja raamatust vaimustusse.

Liiga hea on olla, et see kõik ei peagi lihtne olema.

Moraalisulgurlihas on mõnikord tahtele allumatu ja tekitab elu.
Elage mulle kaasa.

Suurte autodega veetakse surma

Tegelikult läheb kõik hästi. Järgmine esmaspäev olen ilgelt ühiskondlik ning kolme nädala pärast tapvalt bioloogiline. Sealt edasi olen kas külmalt eufooriline või igavalt suitsiidne. Või mõlemat segatuna skisofreeniaga vahekorras 3:5.
Ärge küsige, ma ei taha teile valetada. Kaunid ideaalid, karm tegelikkus :( Nuuks.
Morfiini.

2012, me nii igatseme ja kardame sind.

PS. Ma olen sügav mõtleja. Facebook ütles, et olen.

Nojah. Tead, ma lugesin kõik oma eelmise aasta mõtted üle. Nad ajavad mind naerma oma naiivse, kohati isegi primitiivse ellusuhtumisega. Ära hellitatud positiivsusega, napaka kõikvõimsustundega. Nojah. Ei teagi, milles asi on. Ma olen võõrdunud oma vanast minast, ta tundub - jällegi - nii naiivne olevat. Kogenematu. Pidevas elujoobes. Huvitav, kas ma kunagi hakkan samamoodi jälle mõtlema. Milline traagika.
Võib-olla olengi ma inimeste suhtes nii kriitiline, kes mulle mind ennast sel perioodil meenutavad? Sest ma tahan olla kõike muud kui tema. Kui mina siis. Kui mina praegu. Naljakas, kuidas üks päev võib aastapikkuse illusiooni kildudeks lüüa.
Äärmiselt MÕTLEMAPANEV. Ja ma ei tahagi siia midagi kirjutada.

Vaikinuksin, jäänuksin filosoofiks

Tahaksin lebada värskes Setumaa mudas, andmata vastust ei millegi ega kellegi ees. Rohekashall nätske muru ei vaatagi mulle süüdlaslikult otsa, nagu tahaks ta midagi muud. Nagu ootaks ta kedagi muud enda peale lebama, kedagi natukene paremat, vaimukamat, osavamat. Selles mõttes on Setumaa muru ideaalne maandumispaik.
Oleks elus ka niimoodi. Keegi ei tahaks ega ootakski minust midagi teistsugust, kui ma pakkuda ei taha. Asi on selles, et ma suudan ilgelt palju. Eks igal asjal ole oma piir. Headel inimeste piir on alati suurem ja sellest tulenevalt on piiri ületamise tagajärg sügavam. Valusam.

Homme hommikul kl 7.00 ärkan üles ja lähen basseini. Ujun seal räigelt kaua. Täpselt nii kaua, kui mulle meeldib. Kloor mu punastes silmades teeb värvi üldsusele mõistetavamaks.
Siis lähen Emajõe äärde ja räägin partidega juttu. Nemad ei oota minust ka midagi. Neile jutustan oma radikaalsetest õhulossidest. Nad aplodeerivad mulle. Tegemist pole siiski tavapärase harimatu pööbliga.

Ma igatsen oma punaseid juukseid. Salaja ja täiega.

Tahan olla MÕJUTAMATU. Tahan olla SOO, mitte mingi kuradi tsentralistlik keskklassi toetav kuri korrupeerunud kapitalistlik partei.
Siinkohal mõnitan L doktriini täiega.
häbi tundmata
sõnavabaduse väljakut rüvetamata
säilitusaineid söömata
surmaga flirtimata
Harry Potter olemata
(jälestades endasuguseid ilukirjanduslikke pugejaid)
Sina oled mina või mis.

Vaheaja meeleolu ei ole ikka veel (sest mu spliinisel elul pole vaheaega, irff). Mis ma ikka virisen. Elu on ilus ja ilu on elus. Ja inimeste headus on elus. Ja elu on headus? Ja ma olen vist veel naiivsem või lollakam kui George Bush, kes demokraatia universaalsusesse ära uppus. Ainuke vahe seisneb selles, et mina ei võta tervet maailma kaasa. Mulle piisab mõnest üksikust teisejärgulisest maailmast.
Milline paroodia.

Vastikud ajavahemikud.

Peaks midagi kasulikku täna õhtul veel tegema. Huvitav. Mul on valida Dostojevski (2), Palahniuki ja Wilberi vahel. Valikuid on kolm. Jumal on üks.
Lähtuvalt Dostojevskist on selleks kristlik Jumal.
Lähtuvalt Palahniukist on selleks alaealiste ajuloputus.
Lähtuvalt Wilberist olen selleks mina ise.

O Fortuna.

Ajad muutuvad ja meie koos nendega

Tere, sõbrad. Olen tagasi. Ja ei ole ka. Vabandust, ma ei viitsi seletusi jagama hakata, ma olen selleks liiga isekas ja kaugeltki liiga heas tujus. Ma ei teagi, miks ma siin jälle olen.
Teate, asjad hakkavad varsti väga kiiresti veerema. Võib-olla sellepärast ma siin olengi, et midagi jäädvustada. Autokool hakkab läbi saama, EVS peale tulema, eksamikonsultatsioonid ja ärapanemisjanu hakkavad mu väärtuslikku aju rüüstama. Ma hakkan just kui arenema. Naerge jah.
Hakkan siia vaikselt midagi aeg-ajalt kirjutama, et minu elu tähtsaimaks kirjandiks mu kirjalik eneseväljenduoskus eesti loomuliku iibega ei võrduks. Brr. Sestap ei tasu midagi huvitavat loota. Et olla populaarne, peab olema keskpärane.
Vabandust.

Frost/Nixon on üle pika aja parim film, mida näinud olen. Soovitan kõigil vaatama minna. Ja mind kaasa kutsuda.

Kevadejoovastus hakkab vaikselt peale tulema. Hea.

A post to say goodbye

I think it's time to stop this chapter and move on. Writing in English is by far much more fun and enjoyable than in Estonian, but I need change.
I'm sure I will return one day.

Love, peace, empathy.

PS. Who reads my trash anyway?

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.

The soul's on fire

These last two weeks have been from another world.

Calm down and waste away with me

Hi. How are you?
I feel as if I owe someone a decent post. Something that makes sense. Something dull and boring, but honest as hell.
It's funny how staying up at night during school time seems so fun and logical. A rebellion in a way. Fight against the system, ha ha. (I'm a complete lunatic, agreed.) But now.. it's only half past one and I hear my bed calling for me. It's frustrating.And because of the frustration it's so damn funny. I have nothing to rebel against during summer. A rebellion against my own system? No fun. Sleep be fun. Yes.. very nice..mm. Okay, I'm falling off the logical topic, aren't I? (Lolz)
Home alone. Not lonely. Home alone and a bunch of things to do. I sit paralyzed, the TV turned on (only because I have the bloody chance), my stuff lying around, strawberries, weird stuff lying around, my thoughts lying around and some even weirder stuff lying around. The truth, my friends, is that I hate packing. And cleaning. And washing dishes. But I love ironing. Lolz. I have to pack for my Belgium trip, but I'm far too lazy to do anything. Again, compare this to school time. The more mentally tired I am, the more physical stuff I want to do. Ha ha.
I should also find some interesting stories of Estonia. It was recommended. I'm not that fascinated by the task, just between me and you. And the whole world, I guess.
Other than that, I'm happy. In the most stable kind of way. Honestly.

(I don't want to think about the future. It always comes soon enough.)

(I don't get everyone else. People. Why is everyone logged on to MSN at this late hour? Maybe they need victims for their thoughts which are also lying around. Or maybe they're just no-lifers. Or maybe it's for a noble purpose. I should control my ego from time to time. But you know the saying - noblesse oblige.)

Happy Independence Day!

It's hard to say where I've been

I'm returning from something to something to something. I'm returing from something to something to something. I'm returning from something to something to something.
Guess I'm alright.
I just did something to rise my life quality. The simple knowledge that none of it was ever my fault and I did to my fucking best to change the situation. I did everything. If I wasn't good enough, then fuck it. Then no one was good enough. There's no point in painting my own life in sorrow blue. I shouted my whole soul out that night. Something I should have done a decade ago.
And now the air that I breath isn't dead anymore. No more dirty palace walls. I feel so warm and calm inside. I no longer have to hide.
I'm returning from something to something to something. I'm returning from something to something to something. I'm returning from something to something to something.
Guess I'm more than alright.

I will find a way

(visit me when I'm there)