Saturday, October 17, 2020

Far Out

Всегда держу в чистоте и не захламываю пассажирское место в своём авто. А вдруг однажды какой-нибудь лунатик запрыгнет ко мне в машину и выпалит: "Держи курс на Биг-Сур и ни о чём не беспокойся." Должна же жизнь как-то расширяться...



Sunday, October 11, 2020

If I were to write a dissertation, it would be about feminism as collective insanity. Just like men going to war to kill in the name of patriotism is insane. Men are protectors, not killers. So when women were left alone to do everything because men went to take lives with their own hands, women went crazy. Feminism was born out of that chaos. 


Snowing in my soul
It's a cover-up
for my heart
Close up, be warm...
Yet I can't.
I'm so cold. 



Tuesday, September 22, 2020

Elucidate Nothing

      The horizon and the sun are playing a game this time of year, a game with my heart. It gets dark sooner, the air cools faster, people are being swept off the streets - home, home, go... It gets nostalgic, it whispers: "Extemporise, get alive, spontaneously dance." And the big LAUNDROMAT just adds spice to this chai of feelings. So you feel like washing a comforter soon and wander the flecked city darkness, let me know - I'm coming with. 



Tuesday, September 8, 2020

08:08
10:10
12:34
16:50
21:22
Every day, every time I look
It talks to me in code
Genomes, algorithms
Enigma

08:08
10:10
12:34
16:50
21:22
Every day, every time I look
It talks to me in code
Genomes, algorithms
Enigma

Sunday, August 2, 2020

Life's One Moment

Persian jazz, Curious George, 
apples, mung beans, and Legos.
Fuzzy unknowns taking over the room, dolls and clock gears, Japanese lunch box. 
Magnets and Rubik's cube. 
Dreams of a shower. Half thoughts. 
Tumbled rocks, juice, mandolin. 
Chess, marks from a marker, a dish. 
Screams, laughs and loud small feet. 
Taņhā to be at peace with myself, somehow. 

Saturday, July 18, 2020

100 years

Solitude

Is it a fruit? an instrument?
Maybe a Woman, wearing thin wool,
smelling of lemongrass...
I think I remember a sweet quiet of Sun's spirals,
a bitter hint of Chronos' tricks...
Illude, run, think, believe, cry, scream -
are the withdrawal from my solitude. 

Monday, June 8, 2020

Brrrzooom

     When there's a dancing speck of light
     that I might think was meant for me,
     and then turns out that it wasn't...
     It feels like I'm a background
     that's getting old and quite annoying.
     But watch me spread my wits to fly,
     to publish articles of humour,
     to ooooh and aaaaw all who I meet,
     just to retreat and drink my tea. Alone.


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