A little name calling

I've been called many names in my life, some good, same bad. The most scarring were "fat" and "cow". Those can do a lot of damage to a fragile young heart. Good thing the people around me has grown and the name calling has taken more humorous aspect. Most memorable names have been for example "cradle robber". That was because I hit it off with a guy few years younger than me. They thought the whole thing was hilarious, but all I have to say about that part of my life is mostly this song:

It was short, it was sweet, we tried. Would've been nice if it had worked out, but it didn't. No outsider can understand what happens between two people but many think they can judge it anyways. But I'm getting sidetracked here...

Another funny name has been "sextourist". I've been called that because I have had sex in many countries, mostly with my travelling companion but I have to admit it involves some locals too. (I find it odd that I've been to the most romantic capital city in Europe, Paris, but haven't had sex there.) Yesterday my friend said I have sextourettes. And it might be true. I've always been open to talk about sensitive subjects and maybe I'm a little bit too-much-information kinda gal. I do however try to be discreet about my partners and give credit where the credit is due. And I never show dick-pics I've received to anyone else. That's just common courtesy.

We also agreed that there should be fuck protective law (in Finnish: panosuojalaki, thank you Crysaniah for this wonderful word). We pondered that seven days is a good amount of time to exercise fuck protective law, which means that after a week you should know if you want more with your partner than just the one time fling. After that you automatically give away all your rights to claim the other person. If you don't know after a week are you or are you not interested in the other person, you are not allowed to leave things hanging between the two of you. This law protects both parties from unnecessarily garbled relationship.

Lately I've had the opportunity to listen to radio and I've noticed I kinda like the pop music they play these days. Maybe I've not reached saturation point because I hear them so rarely and that's why I find myself liking them. This song I like because of the lyrics. What has happened to the good old calling someone smoking hot? Lately my ass has got few compliments. I never really cared for my butt but it seems there are several guys in this world who does. And I take their word for it.

What has happened to the good old sexual humour? Is everything these days disrespectful? And I'm not talking about grabbing some random asses, but about the good old name calling. Am I just weird for thinking it's flattering if someone tells me they think of me when they... umm... daydream? :)

Stalking is not okay. Sexual harassment is not okay. Calling someone hurtful names is not okay. Groping someone who doesn't want to be groped is not okay. But calling someone "a sugarcupmarshmellowrainbowpudding with a smoking hot ass that would make my day to pound" is totally fine by me. It's romantic!

Happy, happy, happy..?

Yesterday I had a conversation with my friend about lyrics and he told me he only really listens to the lyrics of a happy song. He said there's no point on listening to the lyrics of a depressing song, it'll only kill your mood and what's the use of that. I don't think he quite understood when I said that it's comforting for me if I feel down to listen to something that gives me the feeling that there's someone who understands how I feel. And when I feel down it helps me to sing out loud what I feel. Melancholic music helps me cope with my problems more easily and that's how I deal with them. I wonder what would happen if I kept listening to upbeat, happy and funny songs all the time? Would I stop being sad from time to time or would all that crap inside me bottle up and explode one day?

Sometimes when I'm afraid my day is going to suck-balls-big-time™ I choose my morning song hoping that it can uplift my spirit and the whole day would be better. Lately I've been listening to this one for obvious reasons.

Or so I thought. It's not so obvious after all. This morning I realised this song is not about happiness. The guy isn't truly happy. At least when I'm truly happy, I never waste my thoughts on the things that has been dragging me down or could do that. This guy is just glad that he survived something down bringing, which is not bad either. But is it really happiness? I need to point out this again, because this sentence has been one of the most meaningful ones in my life.

I don't think the song is about happiness but about being finally comfortable enough to enjoy it. Why I see it like this probably is because in Finnish we have two words for "happy". You can either be happy as in happy about your life and had a lucky life so far (onnellinen). Or you can be momentarily happy as in delighted and pleased (iloinen). For my mornings to become good days, I need something that makes me feel like I'm fortunate to wake up on this beautiful day, something that makes me feel happy to be alive, maybe something that'll put some beat in me. I don't want my morning to start with quickly passing happiness that reminds me of all the obstacles I had to crawl over so far. I need something that is truly happy, like this one.

True happiness is not about the big things. You can enjoy overcoming obstacles but does they truly make you happy? Happiness is the moments when you notice how blue the sky is, how beautifully the birds sing, how someone is smiling to someone, it's the feeling of being clean, dry and warm. Happiness is a fluffy, cuddly feeling you have inside that will shine outside for the rest of the world to enjoy it too. Being content is something you have to enforce, true happiness doesn't care because you know that you can brighten someones day by just giving a genuine, honest, happy smile.

I googled "honest happy smile". Was not disappointed.

(source: http://nydesignguy.blogspot.fi/2012/02/smile.html check it out, there are more smiles)

This ain't your fairytale

I had a totally different topic in mind when I started to write my last post. I guess I got carried away with the weird confusion I'm under and it was more like diary than blog. The thing I was originally going to write was about a quote from my friend. He said "It's easy to write I love you" meaning that it doesn't take much physical effort to do so.

It made me think (yes, yes, I think too much) about what is easy to say and what is not. We probably all know how hard it is to tell someone we like them or that we love them. But for me at least it's even harder to say I don't like someone. Example: a person is head over heels for you but you don't feel the same way. It's never easy to let them down gently. How do you say "I don't like you back" without hurting someone in the process?

Another example: There's this person in my school who I've hanged out (in classes and such) quite a bit. I've had hard times deciding do I like him as a person or not. There's just something about him that irritates the crap out of me. He says other and emotes other and I just can't read him. I'm used to being able to read people - sometimes too well. He is unreadable. And I know he could read me. I hated the fact that he could see inside my head but I couldn't his. Last spring he changed a lot, and not for the good. It tipped me over the edge and I had to tell him that I didn't like the change and I didn't like him. Why did I care enough to say that to him? Why didn't I just avoid his company like a normal person? Perhaps I see some hope in him, he is not a bad person. I don't think my opinion means that much to him, but I hope he reconsider his change (which was consciously made).

In relationships no one likes to be stringed along. It's important to be honest and say how you feel even if it creates a mess. If you don't like the other person you're dealing with, say so. Don't let them build up castles in the sky that are only going to shatter. I'm a black-and-white person in sense that I can usually tell quite quickly if there is something or not. Sometimes though I need time and I want to see is my first intuition wrong. Until this point it hasn't been but there's a time for everything.

So my advice - yet again - is that talk to people around you. Tell how you feel because none of us is a mind reader. It's not the end of the world for the other person to hear you say you don't care that much for them. The hoping hurts more than you saying "I'm just not that into you".

I think it's easier to love than hate as feelings, but it's easier to talk about hate than love. Sometimes it's easier to hurt someone than being honest. It doesn't take much effort, just a little courage, to write "I love you". It's much harder to write the opposite. You would want to know and so does the people around you. So be brave and tell how you feel.

The eternal waiter

If you'd know me, you'd know that the music I listen to pretty much tells my mood. Music somehow makes my feelings stronger and helps me let out what ever is trying to bottle up inside me. If I play pop, I might feel like dancing and I feel joyful. If I play classical music, I need the calmness to do school work. And when I play metal...

I haven't listen to metal much in years, only occasionally. Only when I'm feeling blue. This morning I found myself changing from romantic pop songs (I like to sing them) to Sonata and friends.

Do you know the feeling of almost falling down a cliff and you keep looking for something to hold on to so you wont fall? If I look down, I can see the endless fall under me. Usually I know what has pushed me over the edge but this time I can't pinpoint it. I have a nice job that I don't hate. I leave for work happily. Summer vacation is starting and I'm not going to do much school stuff in the summer. I have friends around, I have family. No money problems though I'm not exactly rich either. I haven't done anything to regret miserably. I'm not lonely, there are few guys I know who would be happy to take me out. With that I mean there's potential for love.

And still I'm utter mess. I've lost the direction, the goal I work for. "If you want to live happy life, tie it to a goal not to people or object." The big picture is fading in front of me. I thought I knew what I wanted but I'm not so sure anymore. Are my standards beginning to lower? After my last breakup I aimed high and I was happy. The longer the wait is, the more confident I am that I'll find what I'm looking for.

I hate waiting. I wasn't build for waiting. And still I do it. I always wait and wait and wait, until I get fed up and do something about it. Now I don't know what to do anymore. I tried. Now I should just sit and wait. And I hate it. I feel like a sissy when I have to wait. And if I wanted a pussy in my life, I would just get a cat.

When I get to this point, I usually shut down. I don't feel like meeting anyone, talking to anyone, doing anything. I need to think and clear my mind, but too much thinking is dangerous. One can never know which way the coin will flip. Up or down, up or down, up or down... Endlessly, in my mind.

So I ask you, before you start flipping (coins in your mind), like I have:

What do you wait for? What are you ready to wait for?

How long are you going to wait until you're ready to give up?

What's the good moment to fight for it and stop the waiting game?

Is it better to fight or to give up?

Unchain my heart

Never guess what day it is? Maintenance! And that's always the best time to update this blog.

My friend has a birthday today and she's couple years younger. I wanted to tell her that she should enjoy her youth while it lasted. But then I thought being younger wasn't that great, I'm happier and more satisfied with my life as the years go by.

I'm not saying I'm old. I'm not yet there that I have to reminisce the years when all my limbs still worked and I dance, dance, danced. I can still dance and I wish I did it more often. Although there might be occasions where I put the music on a little too loud and shake my belly like a bowl full of jelly.

I'm saying that I don't want to go back in time and be the old mess. Or more of a mess than I am now, because the level of haze has toned down year by year. I'm more focused now and I have some kind of goal in life. My mind isn't wandering aimlessly looking for something I don't even know what. But something else is...

I took a trip this weekend to other side of Europe. It was an amazing trip, I met wonderful people, got a little sun, very uncharacteristicly I drank and smoked and overall enjoyed myself. It was just what I needed to break from the pressures back home. Though now all the obligations weighs even more heavily on my shoulders, I still needed to get away for a moment. I wanted to take this trip to stand against the warm wind with my eyes closed and just let it blow away my worries and though I'm now more rested, I feel more confused than when I left.

I've been thinking why I travel so much. Why am I not happy staying in one place. Why do I get restless every year if I don't go see a new place. It's like I'm looking for something, but I don't know what. Love? Home? When I sat on the plane on my way back, tired and worn out, I stared out of the window and wonder how many more trips like this I can do. I'm getting weary of looking and I just want to find a place to stay for a while. To find a place that offers the excitement I need, but security enough to feel comfortable. Home is where your heart is, they say. I no longer feel like "it's everywhere because my heart is flying free" but more like the heart of a cancer patient: doomed to stop beating soon if they can't find the cure. But don't worry, dear reader, I'm not done with the fight just yet.

So. There's still hope for you, my young friend. Your mind will be calmer over the years and when you find someone or someplace or something to pour yourself into, your heart will calm down too.

Money doesn't buy happiness, they say. So doesn't freedom make you unchained. I'd be doomed if I stopped fighting, stopped looking.

Without hope, we got nothing left. It's okay to be sad sometimes, but it's not okay to give up.

Monsters Inc.

Today I woke up with a weird mix of two songs in my head.

The first one is kinda obvious because I'm going out of town tomorrow and always when I'm excited this song plays:

The other one was a bit trickier. I do love the movie where this is from. Seen it like a thousand time. Today I realised why I love it so much. Not just because of the monsters. And damn monsters are cool! But because of the love story. For all my life I've been looking for some kind of Beauty&Beast -scenario thinking I would find my monster one day. Why I idealise long-haired metal guys. But I've always wondered why I end up with the utter most normal guys. The geeks.

I thought it was because I'm somewhat geekish myself too. But today it hit me. I'm not looking for a monster in my life. I AM THE MONSTER in this story. I am the beast. The unique, weird creature that needs to be looked deep inside to find the goodness of the heart.

I wasn't looking for a monster all this time. I was looking for the Belle, the ordinary. The human. Someone who could teach me the ways of the mortals. Because I don't know how myself.

I'm the freaking monster. The vampire girl, the Hulk, the troll under the bridge. I'm the one with the spells and curses.

Why did it take me so many years to realise?

After this revelation, do I still keep looking for the monster on the surface and the commoner on reality? Do I fit better with another monster or is there an epic love story waiting for me somewhere?

I'm the problem.

Solve it.

Desert island

It's so quiet, yet I'm surrounded by noise. 

But the noises fade to background and all I can hear is how quiet it is. Only my own breath, my own movements, my own shadow. I don't know what to do.

Did I just see a shadow coming towards me? Can I hear sounds of other people in the wind? Does my phone even work anymore...

I'm alone on an island.

I have food supplies to last until someone comes to save me, I hope.

The smell of the ocean...

Even from behind the bars I can see the sun moving slowly. It wont be dark in a while.

I sing quietly to cover the silence.

I'm too stressed to read the old dusty books I have with me. I decide to concentrate on the plan. Step by step, I know what I have to do.

I wish there was someone to talk to. 

I'm thankful for the light. It can be dark in this pit. In the darkness everything changes. The sounds, the wind, my own breathing. Who knows what lurks in shadows.

Patiently I stare out, out to the sun or the rain. Wishing and hoping someone to come, praying. It's been hours and I've only seen a shadow of a man.

The clock is ticking. Ticking away desperatly.

This day too, will come to an end.

And when the end comes, I will find my keys, lock up the museum and go home.
Who the hell thought it would be a good idea to keep a museum filled with technology open on a mother's day anyway?