Few artists make me roar when I hear something so great. But…they did it. Twice.
Give me this stick, this heart and his pants – and no one will get hurt…
“Everybody’s talking about it
Makes it pretty hard to doubt it
Need a minute but I’m surrounded
Friends are coming at me like vultures
How come nobody ever told ya?
I wouldn’t show your face ’til it’s over
But I’ve been here before
So hit me when I’m sore (I’m sore).”
..who you are..
I painted white stripes, and on them letters. I wanted these strokes to resemble an old fence, on which someone had painted new letters. In general, it would be ideal to apply another layer of white on top of the letters, but I’m afraid that would ruin everything. I need to learn..
Let go of the past, learn not to cling to people and memories that, like chains, pull you back, chaining you to the foundation. Stop thinking about other people’s problems as your own. Stop trying to make everyone’s life better, including those who are not close to you emotionally. Stop trying to take part in everything you can “get into”. Stop missing things you can never do again and places you can never visit again.
Not thinking about what could have been different or better in this or that place. Going towards the goal, no matter how difficult it may be. Not stopping in the search for a place that will become your home until the last day. A place that you will always want to return to.
Find a job that you will do and get income from it. Do only what you want and think is necessary. Live and look without looking back at your past life. Do everything that you were afraid of and that previously seemed strange and wrong to you. Believe in yourself and that each coming year will be better than the last.
I don’t remember when exactly I wrote this. Or when I lost hope of returning from where I served. Or after a suicide attempt. Or at some other time. But I wrote them to give myself advice on how to continue living. What rules to follow. What path to take. It’s interesting that the last paragraph came true first of all. I think the rest will also happen…
I thought about it. I haven’t written letters for about 25 years. It was the first in so many years. Paper. Read More
Je suis obsédé par les femmes, même si je devrais l’être par les hommes.
The stupidest thing is to seek salvation from one woman in another. Even if it’s virtual and imaginary. The only salvation in a woman is in myself, in my other half, in creativity. But I was too busy with work and closing the main debt of my life right now – and it wasn’t up to that.
I think I should pay less attention to women. Any. Men too, probably, but that’s something else. You know, when you’re successful, certain people start to join you. Or rather, they try to join. They give you their money, try to become a part of what you are. To snatch a piece of you. Don’t take it literally, it’s not about me or the story of my life. I just feel that I now have that core. There is a strong foundation that moves this whole mechanism further. I’m becoming more and more visible in the place where I am. I don’t really like it, because there’s less time left for my own things. But something has to feed me – and this is it.
I need contact, but limited. And what’s funnier is that now I understand that any communication can easily become “mine”. That is, I can start communicating freely with anyone. But do I need it? People take up too much time, and that’s why I don’t always find time to answer Aaron right away. I’m sad about it, because I allocate a separate place for him in my life. Like others who read this blog. I just know that they exist (ha-ha, statistics don’t lie. Just kidding). I love you all, and you are my core. Because you are here. With me. You see me, thoughts, creativity. And I thank you for that.
Today I received a mount for the background and immediately lost the desire to throw it on sale. Something like 17 dollars for a thing that costs about 70 in the store. I wouldn’t give 70 for creativity, but 17 is quite normal.
Over time, I will get myself a full-frame Sony of the old model. Without a touch screen, electronic shutter. I want to feel this camera. This system. Understand it, as I once met Panasonic and understood it – my beloved GX7. It was not my first camera from Panasonic, but it was he who made me fall in love with this system. I am not sure that I will ever be able to give up Panasonic and its filters. But I want to try Sony. Was it for nothing that I once thought that they were the same company?)))
Sony is like a sub-part of Panasonic, or Panasonic as a cheaper line of Sony. Funny.
I love you, friends. And I am not talking about cameras now 😉
It’s interesting that the abbreviation of the title of today’s post sounds like END, although I didn’t intend it.
Now, during every communication, I ask myself – what will I feel when it ends? What emotions will I have? I also asked myself about this communication. But I don’t feel anything. It would be appropriate to say that it was neutral. There were good sides, there were negative ones. I allowed the person to freely express his opinion about the things I shared with him. Often, this person expressed himself negatively about these things. But not in the sense of “don’t show me anymore”, but “show me, but I will tell you that it’s bad”. And it started to bother me. For her, it was a feeling that “everyone has their own opinion”, for me… I didn’t pour shit on what she shared. I either kept quiet if I didn’t like it, or in some mild form said that it was “simple”.
She helped me get rid of one person, I helped her get rid of another. I think that’s where our goals in each other’s lives end.
…don’t hide yourself there? Read More
These are my favourite photo cups, which I use most often for both tea and work. Strangely enough, I liked how the photo looks from the camera (ha-ha, it already got its own filter). But I also added the “finished shot”. Because I like it in its own way.
In general, each photo is our perception of colour. So if someone likes our perception of colour – we are on the same wavelength with them.
The cups are illuminated by LED lighting for flowers, which is now not used for them, but simply as an evening light in the kitchen. The kitchen in neon colours looks unusual, but interesting. I recommend it.
I have never perceived blog posts as something big. Quite the opposite. When you start a new blog (and I still remember how it happened with my other blog, more than 10 years ago), you think “okay. This is a post. But it’s only one. Who will be interested in one post? There should be many of them! Only then will everyone find something of their own! And will come back to you”. But now I have thought about the fact that each such post is a big job. This is a great achievement. This is something that already exists and will exist in this world, and over time people will return to it. If it is useful. And this is what happens with my old blog, where people read articles that were written several years ago and became relevant right now, during the power outage.
Each article is a big job. Even if it is written in a hurry – the main thing is the meaning that you put into it. And a successfully written article can make your blog famous like some famous song that has resonated in the hearts of many. So don’t underestimate each individual post.
People around me feel death. People call me and talk about death. People talk to me and talk about death. My outlook became darker, and reality became such that I would give a 75 percent that we won’t survive if we don’t go somewhere, and a 25 percent that we’ll make it to the end of the war in the way we are. Because the shelling has become more frequent and more accurate than in the days… when there weren’t any? Exactly. Any shell, drone, bomb – will destroy a house and, more likely, us with it. This is a fact. Dry, but a fact. I thought that I should pay for hosting at least for a year so that the person wouldn’t send me that game for a link to the site in vain, because… reality was getting darker.
When I put on a dress or a wig, I think about what if it arrived now, that’s exactly how they’d find me. I don’t care. As they will. Just a fact. Is it interesting to read a blog when every post could be the last? Does it feel more alive in that case?
Saint Creature