Saturday, March 12, 2016


Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there.
I did not die.

by Mary Elizabeth Frye, 1932


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Tuesday, March 08, 2016

The Book of Life

Assassin's Creed: Syndicate

I am still angry at you. I want to make you understand. I want to shake you and yell at you. But even if I did, you wouldn't understand. You never did understand, not even when I thought we were close, let alone now. And why should I make you understand? It's not my responsibility to make anyone understand. 

Sometimes I wish that the people who mistreated me would become aware of their mistakes and sorely regret their decisions. I would love to see them looking for me and not finding me. But this is wishful thinking. Humans are too self-involved and egotistical to realise there are things beyond their self-indulging mind games and petty interests. The sad fact of this life is that we're unappreciated by others, and they never realise their mistakes. Time passes, life moves on, and none of these people have the guts to come and apologise, or say they understood, or they are sorry. If they had the balls to admit such sentiments they wouldn't have treated us so shitty in the first place. Soon the relationship or friendship is a memory, yet another page torn off the book of Life and thrown into the fire. Humans go on, as blind and ignorant as always, life goes on, nothing changes, nothing is ever lost. Except maybe for a few days, weeks, years, lives, centuries, and it's still nothing on a cosmic scale. We're ants reproducing on a speck of dust in a vast, vast universe, and it doesn't really matter, and it never will. Evolution matters and evolution has no winners and no famous authors, no celebrities and no point. Its only point is continuation of life itself, orgiastic expression in myriads of forms and countless colours, in ways I cannot begin to perceive or imagine with my humble mind.

Everything matters. Everything is completely futile. Writing here is futile. Not writing, when I can write and so many others can't, is hubris. The planet will continue, with or without me on it, with or without my writings on it. It doesn't matter to anyone except me that I am awake instead of sleeping and writing here instead of resting. It makes no discernible difference either way.

I miss Virve. I miss her fiercely. Almost two years since her passing. And still life goes on regardless of how I feel, what I do or don't do. When I am not angry, I am sad. When I am not sad, I drag my feet from one chore to the next. And sometimes, just sometimes, I am happy without needing anything besides the fact I am alive and breathing and healthy. I see a blind person, or a drowned infant, and understand how many things I take for granted.

Won't this pain ever cease? Won't this suffering end? Does it ever end? I guess it does end, when we cross over and there are no more words. But until then, I am here and I am writing. For good or for ill, and until I can no longer write.
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Monday, March 07, 2016

Special offer: buy my conscience (while stocks last!)

Three different people have asked what to get me for my birthday, which was on the 4th. I do have a public wishlist in the links section of this blog, but since they can't seem to locate it, there you go:

Once there, go to 'filter and sort' (right hand side, next to the social media buttons) , and choose 'priority: high to low'. You can choose any item with the 'highest', or 'high' priority indication. Yes, the list is current, and yes, I am bribable. No idea what kind of services I can offer you in exchange, but do ask, it will be fun to hear your bizarre requests. :P And no, you don't have to buy the items off Amazon; that's just where the wishlist is located. Needless to say, if I receive a crazy cat lady starter kit I will be very pissed off. :D I already have one cat in each flavour, so don't you dare.

Other than that, if you have an approaching birthday for a person who loves vampires and darker stories, why not buy my friend's Lizbeth Gabriel's collection of short stories? She's really good, dark and unconventional. Just be warned: she does NOT belong to the Young Adult genre, where everything has a happy end, vampires are fluffy and killers are in reality misunderstood chaps who need someone to love them. She is genuinely dark, and loves to probe those uncomfortable corners of the human psyche that most writers avoid. She also has kick-ass female characters, powerful and unapologetic, and a good sense of humour. If that sounds up your alley, give her a try. 

My full review for her book:

You can buy her book here:

Come on people, let's give a new (and authentic) voice a chance. Very soon she'll publish her second book, and she needs all the reviews and sales she can get. Here, have a kiss for your efforts:

(Psst. Lizbeth darling, hur hur hur, cackle chuckle titter giggle, you are welcome to bribe me. I know you can't send ice-cream in the post, but chocolate is most welcome. Get me the Ritter Sport Jamaica Rum that I can't find here and we're even. ;) ) 
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