Wednesday, May 13, 2020

Read Me

I've been buried on every cemetery,
I've lived under all the stars,
The water knows me,
Rocks and trees carry my smell. 
Yet, when it comes to love...
I'm just as afraid as my first birth.

Tuesday, May 5, 2020

One day in May, or maybe June...
...
ah, yes!
One day, the Camelot, by fate, will sit you next to me.
We'll feel the moment, you'll probe at it and ask me for a ride.
My lot's been played so many times...
...
I hope it's to the ocean, the ride.


Thursday, April 23, 2020

     Bound to be misunderstood, I shall try to rip the fetters. I am never completely satisfied. There's always a feeling of mystery that has a chance to light if I just dig a little longer. This is where my soul knows that I came here to learn patience, while I'm trying to rip things apart in a dizzying frenzy. Yet you know this too - there's no end to anything, there's always more... I search for stillness in my teatime, in my walking; but I can't even lay still on the floor, as I must do and look deeper.
     Recently I had learned a new technique in yoga. It stems from the sitting, forward bend asana, Paschimottanasana. As I achieve the pose, my awareness goes to the belly, searching for tension. The idea is to feel it and see where, from which event in life this tension comes from. And then live through it and release - in your own way. Every time I've come to that practice, my mind switched on and ran around the stockroom of memories, searching, hounding. Nothing.                                         Today I came to it again. Somehow I didn't think, and it waltzed in - the event! Like a bright explosion it shone through to me, fast, bright, to the point. And I cried, for the first time in yoga. 
can't find artist

Sunday, April 19, 2020

You Say I Have It All

     Точка зрения. Вечная эта накрутка на какую-то там точку в космосе, которая кому-то принадлежит, и часто - не самому себе. А она ведь - полярная звезда! Но началось всё со сравнения. 
     Сколько раз я слышала, что я - принцесса, королева, неблагодарная, недовольная. Вон у людей настоящие проблемы - однажды упало в мой адрес, как туша гнилого слона - у кого-то дочь пропала. А я всего-то индульгирую, плююсь сущностью. Но сравнение не отменяет мои чувства и переживания. Им некуда идти, у них нет чувства стыда. У нас у всех свои уроки, свой темп развития, свои пункты и перевалы, и ночёвки. И полёты, кстати, тоже, свои. "В Африке дети голодают" ничего не значит для ребёнка, кроме как того, что на него давят. Не обнимают, а заставляют быть ответственным за кого-то там неизвестного, придуманного. И дальше по жизни, из года в год, всё тот же мор навязывают, от избытка, видать. 
     Сегодня я обнаглела. Всё. Мои нужды значимы. Первым делом для меня. Буду не только королевой. 
     А ведь во мне есть ещё много всего... интересного. 


Art by Lindsay Rapp

Tuesday, March 31, 2020

     Всё это - эта боль, новые предательства, ложь, эта злость, моя, его - так второстепенно... Ну как же не видно! Конечно... А важно! важно - это когда проводишь высший смысль сюда, в наш мир, через гениев, через смертных, через душу.


Tug of War

     Looking for an original person with nimble fingers, who's done many things in life... yet has never taken an old typewriter apart. Would you like to sit with me and curiously apply wit and skill to try out this top act? Private message me, if you would.




Ļ̷̭̝͎̼͋ͅò̷̉̍̔̎̈̕̚ͅo̶̧͔̭̻͖͖̣͉̱͊̍̿͗̏̿̕k̴̟̮̟͍̳̱͈͛̀͜͝i̸̢͙̮̗̰̤̜̗̰̊̃͑͊̐̉̈́ṇ̶̡͓͔̩̩̦̐̋̈́̿̆g̸̨̰̘͚͈̍̐̄̂͋̕ ̸̛͖̞̼̩̣͗͋ḟ̵̡̨͙̘̫̲͎̟̥̑̔̽̆̅̚ơ̵̧͉̼̠̌̿̂͝r̴̛̛͇̩̦̤̘̭̆̔̓͒̂̒̕ ̸̰̪̗͓͖̦̳͙͂͊̈́͜a̵̛͖̠̪͖͊̾͊̄̓n̸͖͍̼̣̱͇̜͙̦͐́͝ ̶̹̻̫͓̗̔̅͘͠ǫ̸̰̜̎̂̿̾̽͌̿ͅr̵̻͑i̴̥̊͊̄͝ǵ̶̛̩̖̝̼͙͚̠̬́̃̑̔͜i̸̯̯͙̤̱̟̼̖̟͈̍̽͊̀̌̅̿͐͝͝ņ̸̛̲̀͂̀͘a̸̡̅́̐̌̅̐́̈́̆̚ļ̶͖̼̔ ̶̢͚͔͛́̅̆̒͑p̶̡̢̮̞͍͎͓̤͒̀͂̚ě̴̹͒̓͒̎̅͂͘r̵̙̲̔s̸̛̱̠̲͓̦͉̍͌̎̈́̊͒̔ò̵̧̧̜͖͎̩̠͍͌̊͌̚͝n̸̛͈̏͒̔̔́̎̍͝ ̸̧̮̥̜͉̥̖̖̀̊ŵ̷̻͎̳̫̝͕̉̀̉̍͜͠ḯ̸̧̧̙̜̳̠̲̽̚͝t̴̳̱̥̞͉͈͉̳̝̐͜ḩ̴͓͉̗͉͖͔̦̖̅͑̀ ̵̻̭̠̯̽̀͊̒͌̎̐͜n̶̙̤͑̌̏͗ỉ̶̼̠̹̘̰̜̥̜͒̀̓̐̕̚͘͝m̵̝͐̒͊b̷̼̪̝̏̄̎l̶̦̤̺̘͚͇̎͋͂͒̚͝ͅe̴̤̳̬̠͚̼̬̭̽̔̄̐̾͆͜ͅ ̷̛̳͔̝̳͎͖̗͗̑̏̊̽f̵̡͉̠͖͇̺̹̥̦͇͆͆̄̽̐͝i̴͚̠̒͋ǹ̵̛̓͊͒́͌͝ͅg̷̮̫̼͝e̷̡̢͚͚͙̰̖̾ͅr̸̢̘̦͖̻̙̽̈́̾̑͐̄̇̈́͠s̵̢̞̻̊̋͜,̵̪̪̦̺̲̲̫͓̂̋̓̅͘͠ͅ ̵̧̛̭̤̭̥̻͑̊̅̈̐͂͒̆w̵̛̜͋̋͗̇́̈́͝͝͝h̴̛̤̰͙͕͕̘̱̼̳̏ơ̶̛̬̇̄̂̀̒̅̏͠'̷̨̛͛̎s̷̨̡̛̯̬̲͇̎͆̎̀̀̎͑ ̷̛̠̫̤̼̬̯̤͎̘̀̌͌̿̃͋͜d̶̠̱͇̩̙̝͇̤̽͆͂́̽̊̆̃́̚o̷̖̠̤̯̠͚͑̎ñ̸̡̰͈̮ͅē̸̙̲͍̳̹͖̯͈̪̃͊̏̊́̿͝ͅ ̷͖̋̏̏̃͊̂̈́͗͝͝m̵̨̨̥͈̟̻̪̒̆̄̓̌͑̈́a̷̹͊̑͌ṅ̸̲̙̞̩̯̎̋͛͒́̚͝ÿ̷̞͉̬̙̩̻͕͖̝̬́̎͒̅͛͂ ̵̧̣̟̬͚̃̽̀͗̽̈͗t̸̨͉̯̪̞̜̩̝̟̽̊̌͝h̸̩͍̠̱̰̳͎̬̞̋̆̃̃ͅĩ̵̛͚̟͉̑̅́̿̄̃͂ņ̵̳̼͆͗̌́̒g̵̦̮̣̰̎̄̐̎̈̕͠s̷̙̭̖̖͇͕̽̿̍̀̃̈́̇̏̈́ ̴̮̺̙̱̘̙͈͈̭͗͑̊͊͝i̷̩͎̝̘̗̹̪̩̓̐͘͘ṇ̷͓̰͚̲̖͋̋̾̅̕ ̶̯͙͋͒͑̎̄́̇̕l̴̛̛̰̩̲̗͖̎̍̇̐̿̇̽͝ĭ̴͈͍̐̾̒̑̎̈́̈́̚͠f̷̫̹̼̑̋̍̌̇̔͂̚͠͝ę̷̻̮́͐̀̀̏́̑̕.̶̧̟͍̫̲͋͛̿̒́̊̌͂̚.̴̞̰̺͒.̶̮̙̝͕̲̀̈̇̽̊͒̆̋̕ ̴̝̲̞̞̺̼͈̗̫͗̈́̌̑ͅy̶̭̱̠͔̹̰̪̳̔̏̓̏e̶̛̘͚̣̠̭̭̦͈͑̿̊͛͑̈́̃͜͜͝t̴̛̗́̅́̒̕͝ ̶̢̞͈̮̬̆̇̾́̏͝ḧ̷̨̛̤̜̪̰͎̟͕̀͛̃̉̀̈́̅͠a̴͍̮̖̹̲͌͗̈́͝ş̶̻͎̹͙̂̑̓̀̈̈́̏ ̷̮̂̀͑̏̀̊̈́͋̾͑n̵̹̏̽̈́͌̐͋̑̕ę̵̦͚͚̑̆̓̀͛̈́́͠ͅv̸̡̛̝̻̼̜̑̓̏̒̿̀̂͋͝ȩ̷̳̤̝̱̩̼͍̍͌͒̈̃̇͐͊ř̷̻̙̪̻͗̈̓͜ ̴̙̩͉̯͕͚̐̆́̈́̏̀͐̎́̈t̶̖̓͘ȧ̶̝̉̓k̷̨̭̯͎͖͕̜̥͋̓͌̏ê̵̲̲̖̰͖̘̺̝͕͚̋̽̃̌ṅ̵̢̨͈̥̠͍͂͆̄̎̐̚͠ ̷̼̠̙̭̞͍͖̺̾͗͋͝ͅa̴̝̼̭̫͗̑̈́͛̃̓̈́̏͘ń̸̨̼͊̒̀̏͛̀̓͝͠ ̴̱͔͗͊̏̑͒̕o̶̧̯̩̫̞̲̗̥̓͋̅͜l̵̞̹̩̩͛̽̊̅̏͋͗̏̂ď̷͚̠̪̥̦̌̒̄̅̃́̕ͅ ̸͖̬̙̭̥̖̿̿̄͗̋̾̚͝ͅt̷͓͙͗̈́̍̆̾̀͊̑͠y̸̙̪̯͈͊͛̐͜p̸̩̘̪̘͕͈͇̀̍̔ͅe̶̢͔̲͍̩̠̭̐̎͐̐̍͂͒̽̿w̵͎͉̳̰̆͂̈́̂ŗ̵̪̪̞͈͕́͌̐͑̽̌̎̈́ị̸̛͓̈̃̽̂̃̓̚̚̕t̸̨̹̮̰͑͂ͅȅ̴̮̤͕̤̟̱̱̖̈́͝r̸̹̳̖̪̒̂ ̷̟̬͖̂̐́a̴̳̠̥̳̮̰̦̿̅͐͆̈́̀͂͐̕͘p̶̨̛̰̥̱̹̈́̾̉̌͗̇͂͠͝ả̸̢̞̝͔̘̦̭͈̟͐͒̋ŗ̴̲͈̞͉̗͇̣̀͗̃̓̆́̇͛̂t̵̼̜̪͙͉̱̥́̀̿̎́́̀.̵̧̤͎͙̻̺͇͌̏͋̆̍̚͘̕̚͝ ̸̙͙͗̚W̴̛̪̤̬̯̥̽͘ơ̵̠͍̦̌͋͌͗̇͛̎͛̕ư̶͎͗̑͘l̸̦̺̰̦̺̤͊̒͆̊͑̐̚͠d̴̳͌͝ ̷̫̘͕̙̜̑͌̚͜y̸̧̘̖̻͖̫̫̗̤̏̐̽́͑͗͌̚ͅǫ̶̢̲̲͈͎͖̞͎͇̅̆ǘ̵̡̫̼̫͈́̊̕͘͝͝ ̷̢̡͓̱͍̩̺̮́͜ļ̵̖̣͐̑̃i̶̗̺͚̝̲͌̈́́͑̒̿̚ķ̸̯̼͎̞̦̕͜͜ë̸͚̼́̑̋͗̒͗̑͛̇ ̶̢̛͙̠͖̥̬̣̓͐͆͂̈́̈̏̈͝t̷̛̪͇̥̟̼͋͂̃͗̾̐̃̓̉o̴̤̣͖͇̦͆̽͆͆ ̵̯͈̳̝͚̣̖͊̇̌ş̵̲͓̗͍͚̬̰̐̆̾͛̇̓͛̕i̵̦͗̽̀́̎̾͑t̴̘͗̄͛͆͋̚̕͠ ̸̧̞͇͖̓̔͆̂͑̾̐͒w̴̡͚̣̳̰̰̰̖̹͛͆̈̃̌̔͐̏i̶̧̧̼͚͓̳̪͆̿̈́̍̎̇̎̌̕͠t̸̛̫̮͓͑͜͠h̷̢̗̘̓̀͛̀̑̅̔͆̇ ̴͎̹͆͒̃̏̌̓̆m̵̡̛͉̱̖͉̂̇̌̊̏̾̚̚͠ĕ̵̥̭͈̹͆ ̶͓̹̜̪̞͍͎̰̅̉́̊̔ä̷̧͈̲̲́͆͊̔̑͋̃̋̚͠n̸̤͇̝̹̙̻̺̳̯̓̅́̍d̷̡̓̐́̈́̎̈́̈́̕͜͝͠ ̵̠̺̣̟̜̉̃̃̓͗̄̄͘͝͝c̵̰̮̰̓́̐̕ù̸̙͉͚̤͍̐͆̽̌̂̃̓r̶̢̗͖̟͙͎̞̼͎͋̈͊͗̕͝i̸̧̬̥͈̻̺̽̓̊̀͜ö̴̻̪̪̰́͋̊͆̿̋̎͋͒͂ǘ̵̮̭͓͎͕͇̘͆͊́s̸̬͖̭̬̞̗̼̟͑̆͆̾̋̎̍l̵͈͇̼͈͓̖̅̂͂͒͊́̍̄̚y̵̛͕̠̍̃̓̅͒̓̊̔̓͜͜ ̷͔͈̬̤̥̼̺̻̻̻͐̌̕ą̴̧͙̤͛͒̈́͑͂͗̏̆́̀p̴̘̲͚͊̿̇̊̑͘ͅp̴̢̡̢̨̰͔͖̜͝l̶̪̘͔̾y̴̥̒͌́̏ ̶̟̖͙̰͍̙̱̳̠̀̏̏ẇ̵̨̨͚͉̫̤͈̘̋͌́̎̀͜͝i̵̟̥͚̝̍͐̔̆t̶͍̮̳̪̾̀̋͘ ̸͍̳̘͓͙̩͋͐͊̃̇̑̔̌̔͘a̵̧̡̢̛̠͈̲̼̿̀̎͆̅͠ņ̴͈͓̙̓̃̄͋̊͐̿̑̈́̎ ̴̙̼̜̹̹̳͓̥̭̃̑̂͝s̴̠̳̱͉͋̏̓̏̑͑̕k̷̪͈͍̲̞͇͇̹͇̺̍̽̉í̷̡̛͖͇̦͙̯͍͇͗̿͋̚̚ͅl̷̮̼͍̘͈̈́l̶̤̱̙̳̱̓ ̷̺̺̗̫̈́͐͂̓̇͛̀̃͆͊ͅţ̸̼̱͈͈͕̜̱̗̿̂͐̊͠ͅǫ̶̩̯̗̘͚̤̟́̔̚͜͜ ̴̟͓̞͎̞̺̱̆͌̊̌̈̔̽͊̒̉t̸̛͇͈̳͖̟̮͆̊͂̿̔͆̍ͅŗ̴̻̝̞̹͕͙̥̼̿̍̌y̸̧̥͕̫͆̾͠ ̶̨̛̛͔̣̙̹̩͙͕̳̗̋̀̌͊̔̕ȍ̸̞̮͓̈́̎ú̵̫̯͙͔̤͙͉̦̻̱͆͗̽ṱ̷̘̪͇̋̆̀̈́̍̋ ̴̩̂̊t̷̼̗̩̒ḥ̸͚̈̾i̶̬̪͑̈́͒̇͒͐̈́ś̵̡̞͈͓͈͍͎̟̻̆̇͛̐ͅ ̴̣̖̱̗͈̬̋̇̀͆͂͗̒͒̆͝t̶̡̛̯̼̾̋̆̐͛̔̓͝͠o̸͖͙̙̖̯̣͗͛̍͌̒̀̊̈́̄p̵̡̛̰̣͉̹̘̦̉̃̕͜ ̸̦̮͇͇͛́̊̓̾͘͠ͅá̵̺̮͈̝̣͍͑c̴̡̡̤̖̝͍͎̝͚̱̀̏̄͋̉̇̂̀t̸̡̡̛͖̰͊́̐̐̒͆̔̊̋?̷̛̯̼̭̯̝̠̳̀̐̋ ̵͍͚͍̀̍̍͆̀̑̀͝͠P̵̨̜̼̱͈̘͍̋̓̐̾̍͝ͅr̴̢̻͍͎͔͔̺͍̪̓̑͑̒̽͑̋̈̕i̶̦̤̿̅̚v̶̛͈̟̪̳͉͒̈́̌͛͊̃̂͆̀a̶̧̮̫̼̜̣͎̰̤͉͐̂͗͊͂t̷̥͇͓̑̌͊̃̈́̕ͅë̵̞̰́̆̓̚͠ ̸͈̲̦̘̈́̈͂́͗̈́̽m̷̨͍̱̰̘̯̓́͐͗̀͠ḛ̴̡͖͎͚̳̻͉̯͊͋͌̓͒̚̚͜s̵̪̿̅͐̔̐̓̃s̵̡̮̥̬̈́̏́͜a̷̬̩̱̭̬̬͙͑́͋̐̓̾̚g̴̭͒͑͊̀͋̀ͅe̷̯͉̾̽͊͂͐̒̈́͒̐͠ ̴̡̘͇̩̣̻̥͛̃̏͜ṃ̸͙̲͉̖͒e̸̞̜̺͍͋̐̌͐,̶̛͎̯̜̟̀̔̍͆͑͑̇̀ͅ ̶̹̺̟̭̿̑̇̓͆́͑̊̐͂i̷͙͈̮̠̟̥͙͛f̴̢̧̢̻̠̺͛̋͊̀̌̑̈́̋ ̸̧̡̨̰̹̣̹͒̄̏͝y̴̢̢̠̟͕̞̫̥̍̄̚ó̷̧̦͓̝̩̮̬̭̗̿̅͑̂̈́u̷̢̗̮̭͍̠̚ ̶̡̡̛̳̞̦̬͇͓̂̾̚͠w̵͚̱̲̦̆̂͘ͅo̵̧̡͓̝̗͚̝͔̓͌͌̿̐ǘ̶͎̏̉͆͘͝ĺ̵̢̡͔̗͓͉̤̬̣̇̃̀̽̈́̒̚̕͠d̸̪̘̠͗̄͐͂́̃͘͜͝͠͝.̷̻͖̣͔͖̜͍̤͒̉͌




Wednesday, March 18, 2020

Tip O' a Crown

     Everyone's right. The virus was manufactured; alas, not as a virus, but as an idea. It's easy to convince, especially in masses. Easy to talk people into symptoms, fresh out of fear. Don't watch figures. Listen to yourself, you've got free time now. We can heal each other. Whatever you believe. 

Vaka Valo

Tuesday, March 17, 2020

Monday, March 9, 2020

Spring Winds

I hide what I eat, when, and how much. 
I hide who I am, my emotions. 
I hide. 
Feeling safe with the one I love 
I open up, but,
he doesn't have a mentor, doesn't have a god, 
he uses me against me,
defends himself, not us. 
I wish I stashed that good mood
beneath the sink, or elsewhere.
Maybe there's a crumble of a laugh
under the mattress. 
In search for smiles I find intent,
an urge to slow down,
a need to just enjoy. 
I can't replace myself
but I can change. 

Saturday, February 29, 2020

In the Middle of the Night

If I could paint a portrait of myself
for self-reflection
of depths
the healing pain
the screams
the swollen heart stretchmarked from ocean water
the raw emotions before they're packaged
the burning in the chest
self-mutilations
shatters of dreams
fingers around my neck
my lungs exhaling puffs of fear
sore muscles
ancestral trauma
intestines falling out
clenched jaw that breaks my teeth
breasts residued with milk
and bruises
fat & ketchup,
I would.

Sunday, February 9, 2020

     Mephistate all your dreams, yob. Mephistate all thoughts, change the past, make the future. Make it worth living. Show me all your genius, all at once, yobbo. I'll take care of tickets and ice cream.





     Ask for my hand and take me to explore new places.

Image result for explore compass art

Thursday, January 30, 2020

Life

When greeted with ugly
dirty dishes
in the morning,
I want to blow 'em up,
but I all have is
an Fbomb. 
Tea.

Sunday, January 26, 2020

     Whenever she found an embarrassing situation in her memory, she hummed, as if trying to shoo away the awkward feeling. It always worked.

Overthinking by @aykutmaykut #dcnart
Art by @aykutmaykut

Thursday, January 9, 2020

Bowling Alley Island of Trash

     That island was once an epicenter of party galore among the rich & the rich. Some guy bought it and lived it out to the best of everyone's ideas, making it into a great big bowling alley. But they trashed it, you see. Now there's an island of trash just floating in the ocean. So Sarabee & I took a ferry to it, as a tour. Because that's all it's worth now - a gawking scene where a simple mortal wasn't allowed before, and a ferryman's fortune.

Image result for island of trash