In Mourning - Sirens

The End of Midsummer nights Dreams

(Copyrights belong to me)

The medication has been working, and now I'm just observing how long this calm lasts. Hopefully as long as possible.

I thought about my decision today. My decision to stay single perhaps for the rest of my life. The thought isn't bothering me the slightest but I have been pondering about it since I have a lot of time to think about various of things. 
I'm tired of meeting people who do not like me for me, as I am. I'm tired of getting judged for not being what some people want. I cannot even start to comprehend that. Some people hate - for example - vegetarians. And they don't hide it. They are single, looking for dates, and if they run into someone who isn't what they are looking for, they decide to really make that clear by insulting what that other person likes.
I do not need other people to make me feel worthless or unlikable. I can do that to myself at worst days. Usually, though, I'm content. And I want to stay that way. If I need disappointing relationships I can always remember the neutral yet cold and unloving relationship I have with my parents. I don't want that kind of romantic relationships on the top of the old one. You can't escape from your blood-ties but you can always choose the company you keep.

I do not know if my thoughts about this matter would change some day, but I feel really good about being by myself for the rest of my life. I used to think about finding someone special, and thinking about that and searching for that person was difficult. I usually felt lonely, sad and unlikable or I felt some pressure to change. When I thought that I had finally been given a gift from the universe, someone who loved me, it turned out to be a lie, so I am still here, on this Earth, without a relationship, without love. I might never find it, so why should I keep looking for something I might not find? I cannot find any answer to that, so this is the solution I came up with. I have been content ever since I stopped thinking that perhaps I would meet someone in a store, while walking in the streets and so on. That if someone contacts me, that might lead to something great. Now I do not know anymore what that "great" would be. For the last "great" thing I gave everything, and it took it all leaving me empty handed in every turn. I do not have the will to compromise anything anymore. I do not think I am capable to do that anymore.

I can picture people who are in a relationship, and have usually been active in dating, and probably have a full history of previous relationships, judging what I'm writing here. I have experience on that so I can imagine what goes on their minds. Usually dating, social people cannot understand what it is like to be unsocial and struggling with all the relationships you have. It's difficult to form one, but usually when unsocial people form relationships and friendships they will last for a lifetime, IF the opposite person is willing for it.

I struggle to get to know new people. I have really hard time to get past the everyday niceties to form deeper bonds. My therapist gave me an explanation why I can't seem to make friends in any of the places I have been so far; I might be signaling with my body language that I do not want it. Which makes sense, since as much as I like the idea of making friends in schools and workplaces I also dread it, since for me that requires so much work and mental concentration that it tires me. I also need the other person to help me with that or it doesn't happen since I do not know how to make it happen. But when it does happen, I will be loyal to them for the rest of our lives, unless the other person doesn't want that, cuts the bonds and leaves. But I will still remember all the people that have left. I can't forget them completely even when I wanted to. Which is a blessing or a curse depending on the people I befriend.

All these factors in mind, I think my conclusion is logical. I do not know if it is permanent or something I'm going through right now, but I'm just tired with other people.
I also got a message from one site I used to be in, with no luck though, and for a split-second I thought about replying, and then I remembered what people are, how it usually turns out, and I just didn't want to get into it. I do not think it is worth it anymore. Perhaps I was an idealistic romantic, who had to be put down to reality. No more Byron for anyone, no more roses, no more planning of a future with someone. I leave all that into my past and hopefully one day I will be able to forget it all. 

These words do not mean anything to me anymore, but perhaps some reader might find something in them. For me they are left forever empty and hollow like all love-stories. It's impossible to understand something I haven't ever had. That also goes for the judgmental readers, who might have the urge to comment with cliche's like "it will happen to you someday" or "one failed relationship doesn't mean you should be single for the rest of your life". Rather I would like the quiet unresponsive blankness. I hate the cliche's.

"She Walks in Beauty"

Lord Byron

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impaired the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o’er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express,

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

"Oh, dance in the dark of night, Sing to the morning light. The dark Lord rides in force tonight, And time will tell us all."

*

*

Llorando

From the David Lynch masterpiece - and one of my facourite movies - Mulholland Drive.

I got a sudden craving to listen to this song while I was watching the Twilight Zone remake from the 1980's.

King Nothing

Studying continues. Weekends go by too fast. A lot of work to do and so little time - and for crying out loud spring is almost here already! 
I haven't had time to try the comic-strip idea, that I could try to portray something about my life in some humorous attempt.
Which might be interesting to try, since my humor can be really dry and dumb.

And about studying; I have to admit that my English is all but perfect. Not even "great", perhaps "good" - at least most days. I keep hearing in my head what other people might say about the incorrect words or phrasing here in my blog. I have to apologize to the grammar-Nazi's out there! I know it is fashionable to pick at people with bad grammar, but I do not do it intentionally and some times I am quite aware of my mistakes. Perhaps I'm sometimes too lazy to check or (double-check) or too much in the zone, that I get "word-blind", unable to see my mistakes.

But at least my medication is working which keeps me afloat day after day - feeling a bit better. And today I suddenly thought I might have seen a glimpse of my old self. Something optimistic. Perhaps a lot older now, more scarred, yet familiar.
I have to find myself again now that I'm recovering from a failed relationship, the things it brought with it and with my depression.

*

(Etching, copyrights belong to me)

Until It Sleeps

"Nessun maggior dolore Che ricordarsi del tempo felice Nella miseria."

"If you want a vision of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face - forever." 

- George Orwell, 1984.

Growing up in the economic depression was tough for many children of the decade 1990 in Finland.

If only some of the parents would have made some different choices with either how to do things to prevent their own personal economical troubles, like considering taking a loan, or how to mentally deal with the money-troubles they got themselves into, so that they could handle it and let their children have a safe home to live in - poor or not.

I'm sure there are many stories, and my story is not even close to the worst ones. I believe the worst stories contain a parent who decided that not only he or she would take his own life, but also the whole family's lives as well.
But you cannot know for sure, if your own parents are that kind of people or not. You'll just have to wait and see.

I was born into a family with four children, one working parent and both of the parents had built the home we lived for the first eleven years of my life. Those eleven years might have been good for the first few years but quite soon one salary wasn't enough to pay for the bank loan, and my mother didn't seem to get any permanent jobs. The last few years were filled with fighting parents and interesting surprises like unpaid bills that led for instance to one occasion, when the water-company cut the water off, and we had to get snow outside to boil on the stove, so we could have something to drink. Finally the day came, when me and my other siblings got into the car with all of our possessions and were taken to a three room apartment. Six people, three rooms. One of them was the living room, or at that time it was living room/bedroom. It was crowded for sure, and we pretty much lived in the middle of a mess most of the time. Us kids always tried our best to have happy lives and have fun. Children are - after all - quite resilient.
But our parents didn't make our lives easy for us. They fought a lot and they didn't care if we were around to see it or not. We had to tip-toe through it all. Trying not to make things worse. Not to anger them.

My mother was a hysterical and short-tempered woman, who used her tears to manipulate her children. It was said, that she might have been bipolar from her teens, I cannot for the life of mine remember who said that to me, but she was sick through our childhood without anyone knowing it.
My father was a menacing, angry figure, who got angry easily at almost anything. You never could know what would anger him.

Our older brother was taken to another city far away to live with our aunt and her family. There was only me, and two of my younger siblings left with sick parents. It was a ticking time bomb, that finally came to its end on one violent night, which I won't write anything here. It's not something I feel comfortable writing about on a blog.

I have to admit, that the following years are a bit hazy, I cannot remember exactly what happened and when, I might have wanted to forget, but my mother moved away, and at some point she was taken into a mental hospital for treatment for her bipolar disorder. She was away for many years, as far as I could remember.
There was only me and my siblings with our angry violent father. He never laid a hand on us children, but since I was the older child, I felt at this certain point on, that I was responsible for my siblings. I couldn't do much for them, but I swore to myself, that if our father would try to hurt us, I would kill him. It was as simple as that.
He was bigger than me, and of course stronger, but I never knew what he might do. I had no reason to trust him. It didn't matter that he was our father. To me he was nothing more than a violent, angry person, who I was afraid of, and I often wondered if he was going to kill us all some day. I really did. I was as sane as any person at that time, but when you're a young kid who's been left alone with a person you really do not know, you cannot trust this violent angry man, you fear him, and you fear every loud noises, and your whole body goes stiff, the hair in the back of your neck sticks out when he walks behind you, it's not a normal, sane environment to grow up in.

One day, our mother came back to live with us again, but she was more of a stranger then. Some kind of a shell of a human, who spent her days sleeping. After that day, I also lost a mother. Part of the process of losing both father and mother was my deep hate towards them, but also their own attitude. My mother was away for quite some time. Physically and mentally away.
And I felt no affection from my father, nor did I give him any of my time nor effort. If he gave a kind word, it would soon be followed with anger at something, and I decided not to give him any more chances. If he hated me, or just didn't care, I wouldn't try to change that, since it wasn't for me to change. And till today, things have remained unchanged between us. When he someday passes away, I wouldn't grieve for him, like I wouldn't grieve for any stranger.

After my mothers sickness the second one to get sick was my little sister. That's a story, I won't write about. All I will say is, that at first I didn't react to her sickness. I think it was some kind of denial I was going through at that time. I had so much to process, that it was difficult to confront her pain. And when I did confront it, it was overwhelming. I felt like I had let my little sister down, that I failed to protect her.
That's why today I am very happy that she has overcome all the hell she had gone through, and she seems to be more stable and happy than before.
After my sister was well enough to live home again, it was my younger brothers turn to get sick.
And now it is my turn to face what the years left me with. There was no other adults, no psychologist, no social workers there when our lives went to hell. Our relatives were more interested supporting our parents than us, the kids. No one came to help us, to make us food, clean the house - nothing.

Having messed up parents who I do not know nor have any loving relations with, having siblings who got sick and having to watch their suffering without any way to help them, living poor's life in the measurements of Finnish poverty - which is something that I feel I need to mention and point out, though no kid thinks themselves that there are people far worse in the world.
Although, I do not know what some of the Finnish people think poverty was and is. Yet we didn't have cellphones, we had to use our cousins old clothes, we were always being the objects of our relative's charity, which I started to loath when it started to seem, that it meant to be willing to listen anything they say, even if it's insulting.

There's a lot of other examples of poverty in my home-country. I won't start listing them here. All I can say is that my childgood and teen years were quite different from - example - my friends. I didn't have much, I couldn't have any hobbies and all that has made me get used to being poor. There's some bitterness and resentment inside me towards some of the modern day kids, that seem to live without a care in the world. Usually if I get to know those people, or any people with loving parents and good, average income, I feel glad, that they got to live their life without any struggling. It's something that some people do not even think about. And they should think about it. They should think about poverty like it is death; you will never know when it comes for you. When you make a wrong choice. Some day it might be you. And before it is your turn, you should acknowledge people who already live in poverty. You shouldn't look at them with pity or despise, you should make decision that will benefit those people. Vote the kind of people, who might do something for them. Give away old clothes and things for charity. There's a lot everyone can do for their countrymen.

(Copyrights belongs to me)

"Omnes relinquite spes, o vos intrantes"

- Dante "La divina commedia

(Copyrights belongs to me)

*

I wrote some time ago, that I will leave politics and the sorts to other bloggers, and that I will continue to do. I just wanted to tell my story about poverty and mental illness.

Artemis and the Moon

Perhaps my previous inner demons are appearing through my dreams, since I've been seeing quite nightmarish dreams for the last few days. There's been witches and horrible light-eyed creatures who live in the blackest shadows of the darkest rooms and probably a lot more, but luckily I cannot remember any more details than that, but my dreams have been quite distressing night after night.

Usually the antidepressant medication takes few weeks until it reaches its maximum effects and I've been enjoying this "kevlar"-protection that has been slowly forming inside my mind since I started to eat a bigger dosage. It really does feel like my mind is getting a bullet-proof surface, that keeps the inner demons and distressing thoughts out. Before, all the dark that's in the world and inside myself have been able to devour and mutilate me to a breaking point. There was no way to keep all the evil out. You might not understand it, but imagine that all the bad things that have happened to you, and all the bad things that happen in the world affects you as deeply as possible, until you're shredded down to your flesh and bones, and you think you can't handle any more of it.

About the same topic, I've been thinking about my growing obsession of buying a house somewhere from the wilderness to live my life in seclusion in the middle of the great, beautiful East-Finland. This obsession grows too much, because I have trouble being satisfied with my current great apartment. I mean, I like my apartment. It was a saving grace to get this, and for me, it's perfect. I might be a bit worried, if I can contain myself from taking any steps of making the obsession to become reality. Especially when I have been feeling depressed, I've noticed that I've been a bit reckless with my money. Not too reckless, mind you, my financial troubles are partly to blame for my student loans and for the constantly rising living expenses that go way over my miserably small salary.

And for a side note: I'm glad that some people, when asking about my job, immediately say things like "it's better than nothing" or "do you still plan to study something else". Those people have the best reactions. I despise people who look at me with demeaning eyes filled with pity saying shit like "your work is so important! It's a real shame that you don't get the respect you deserve". Those people make me feel like I'm nothing like them, like I'm some sort of primitive human being, who's incapable of making anything of myself, and has to do a job fitting for my mental and physical abilities, and needs to be complimented for sustaining the higher beings primitive needs, that are too demeaning for them to do, since they can do whatever they want to do.
I might be wrong here, I might make assumptions, but I guess that's something I've learned from somewhere. I mean, that I can't make assumptions out of nothing. Perhaps some of this has been learned from the reactions I've got from my aunts - for the least times I've been in any kind of contact with my relatives. People who make a lot of money can learn to think of themselves as superior beings, even if they don't notice it. One of those aunts planted a seed of doubt into my mind, when I was studying art. I was doubting myself, my future, that I would have to focus on finding a career where I could sustain myself. So I started to give up art again. This continuing "giving up" happened in ways, that I didn't think I was actually "giving up" something. But all these decisions I've made so far have been leading me farther away from old life-goals. Perhaps now I want to say to you, the reader, that life's an empty path in a dark forest; if you don't follow your hearts desires, you will become a ghost of your own life. Starting all over again from the scratch might end up killing you. This is how I view my current life; I'm starting all over again. The only bad thing with it is that the time left is more limited than at the first time.

Even knowing all this, I feel almost unaffected. It's a sign that this "kevlar"-surroundings on my mind is working. Desperation cannot get through to me that easily.

*  

I've been planning to try out making a comic-strip about some of the things that happen in my day to day life. I've been following a couple of blogs with that idea, and I think that might be an interesting project to try out. Also since it's been years I have even thought about making a comic-strip I think it might be interesting. The only problem is time, or more specifically; the lack of it, but we will see if I get something done at some point.

(Etching-print, the copyrights belongs to me)

"We shall see that at which dogs howl in the dark, and that at which cats prick up their ears after midnight."

Ph'nglui Mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn. 

In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming

I've been writing an essay about H.P Lovecraft for an English course, and I've never before read his biography. I do not know much about him, except what he looks like, so I've found some interesting information about him that I find easy to identify myself with. 
He was very passionate about writing. He seemed to live only for that, and besides being poor for his whole life, he didn't seem to care about the actual material world. He wrote and lived at night. He was a pale, thin man who lived from books and from his imagination. He didn't care for working, education or romances. He did get married, but with the perhaps questionable bit of information I found - since I didn't really put any effort on finding good sources since they're not the main interest in the course - Lovecraft seemed to have been a very passive lover. For me, that says that he might have been an asexual. Able to love, perhaps, but not all that interested. Whatever the truth was, or where the more accurate information is, I'm captivated by his works. I cannot believe I spent my teen's reading King, when I could've read Lovecraft... What a waste.

Also with Lovecraft's troubled past having a mentally unstable father, who spent all of Lovecraft's life in mental institution, and finally having his mother be sent to that same place, I can see why Lovecraft found immaterial imaginative worlds more appealing than reality. This is something I most definitely identify myself.

Written like from my own pen:

I am disillusioned enough to know that no man's opinion on any subject is worth a damn unless backed up with enough genuine information to make him really know what he's talking about.

H. P. Lovecraft

The more I read, the more fascinated I get. Wish I could have known the man.

Also for fans, I found this amazing blog, Propnomicon, with a lot of Lovecraft monster-props. Click the name or the image to get there.

From that blog I got this picture with a text:

"A photograph of bootlegger Giles Upham taken the day after the federal raid on Innsmouth, Massachusetts. He was captured by United States Marines and agents of the Department of Justice in the hidden tunnels beneath the town on February 3, 1928 and later convicted of multiple crimes. Like many of the conspirators taken into custody he displays the signs of generations of inbreeding- bulging, watery eyes, humpbacked posture, and wattle-like growths on the neck. "

The shadow over Innsmouth is one of my favourite Lovecraft's short novels.

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Ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and freighted with the memories and the dreams of Time.

H. P. Lovecraft

I also got to enjoy Lovecraft movie adaptations in two Cinemare-events, which was mind blowing. I admit, they're not completely perfect, but they were filmed with unique personality and appearance that I have them in my "got to buy"-list.

Click the images to see IMDB-link and Chtulhulives-link.

"...Iä! Shub-Niggurath! The Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young!

(Nyarl)athotep, Great Messenger, bringer of strange joy to Yuggoth through the void, Father of the Million Favoured Ones, Stalker among-****. . . ."

Nightmare as a child

Although I did say that the medication is starting to work, my mood's are still going up and down - which is new from the constant down. Now I feel alright a second, horrible in the next second and alright again.
But it doesn't feel like my head's in a screw-bench. So there's some improvements.

I wanted to write something about what I read long time ago. It was about what other asexual's say about their relationships with sexual people. It was this one specific thing in some of the stories.
Since I've been feeling nauseous at times when I remember my life with my ex-girlfriend, I suddenly started to remember how some asexual's told that when they were pressured into having sex, it felt like they were mentally forced into it, like it was a rape. It's quite a strong word to be used in that context, but since there's not really any other word to describe pressured one-sided sex. I will use the word here, but in quotation marks, since I don't feel comfortable using that word concerning asexuality. Perhaps some other word would be more suitable, like "forced sex".
Before I started to realize, that my sexuality wasn't what it was with other people, like with my ex, I started to avoid the act. I didn't really want to do it. But I did it at times, since at that time I thought I was in a loving relationship and I felt that it was worth it to make someone I loved feel happy and content. Even though it took every ounce of strength I had. But I was pressured into it and I had to force myself to do it because I knew, that I wouldn't do it otherwise. The only good thing that came from it was the happiness of the other person, but that didn't make it alright for me.
And after we broke up and it became clear to me, that she hadn't ever loved me - not at any point, I felt used in so many ways. Not only emotionally, but also sexually. It was a very difficult thing I did for her. I can't make anyone understand what it was like, if the person isn't asexual. It makes me sick to remember it.
It makes me sick to remember any of the time I spent with that person. I can't even try to remember any good times, since the "good times" have been taken away from the fact, that she didn't love me, and just lied about her feelings all that time. I had nothing left from those times, but horrifying memories that make me feel sick and make me hate myself. If I found a genie of a lamp, I would wish I could get that time of my life back. If I would get it back, I might be studying art somewhere right now, I might still be healthy and happy and strong. Not the kind of ghost I have become. The ghost of something, that exists only because of the consciousness; "I think, therefore I am". If I'd lose that, I would disappear from the world like I was never here.

All this time I've spent putting back the pieces of what I used to be, I've tried to forget every last day I spent with her in that hell that was partly - or mostly responsible for my current broken down psyche.

Perhaps one day I'll write about all the other painful memories I have. When you're a child of depressed economy, you're bound to have some stories of woe from your past.

A memory about those times came to mind suddenly few days ago. When I was a child, I saw the world around me as a stage with prop walls surrounding me. The forests looked like painted walls, like there was nothing behind them. I felt like I was trapped and I had no place to go.

At some point I lost those ill thoughts. Perhaps when I moved away from unsecured home into a home of my own, which has become a haven of safety. It seems that every time I go out through the front door I become vulnerable to my own thoughts, but when I get back, I just feel safe.

(Copyrights belong to yours truly)

*

I've been studying every free moment I have - which is not a lot. I had to take a small break from all that work to write here. I'm just so tired, which might be an after-effect from the medication. It's partly a good thing to be so tired, but I would like to get some energy to finish up with my studies as soon as possible. Tick-tock, tick-tock: time's running out.

"Have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moonlight?"

Ah, the sweet silence, the blissful calm, the unwavering quiet that has taken over my mind.

I'm taking a bigger antidepressant dosage, but it's still in the realm of average. And it's already alluring sleep, that has been evading me. I get tired more earlier and I get a bit more sleep than I used to.

I feel almost normal again. Of course there are the darker things just behind the curtain of medication, but the medication is erasing my mind from the chaos and noise, and I feel better already. My only wish is that I could keep this feeling.

I still remember how I used to think, that no matter what has happened, at least my mind is strong enough, that I haven't gotten sick. And here I am. Sick. But now I feel better than before, and I'm going to enjoy this silence.

*

I really like the new TV-series "Hannibal". I watched it for the first time in the fall - I think it was fall? - and now I have watched it again. It has kept its captivating ambiance, schizophrenic mood and remained interesting even for the second time I watched it. There are many shows and movies that are watchable only for once, and the key-moment to find out if something is as good as you think, you need to watch it at least twice. 
Mads Mikkelsen is an amazing actor and a great choice to portrait Hannibal Lecter. I applaud to whoever chose him for the role.

I'm already anticipating the second season with a thrill.

And I must admit, that I really hope they would make a series with Clarice Starling. Not to make the movie "Silence of the lambs" again, but to tell the story perhaps after the movie. I do not know, but I would like to see that.

Although I must mention this, that I wouldn't recommend the series to anyone who cannot tolerate to look at mutilated human bodies. This series has taken a really unique step with the dead bodies; they do not show almost any killing or violence, but the dead have been put to display in very imaginative ways, that might make some people queasy. For me, it's just television. I do not mind and I think it's necessary to keep authenticity. A story shouldn't bow to anyone's prejudice or detestation - since realism is a lot more abhorrent than fiction.

*

Hannibal Lecter: You still wake up sometimes, don't you? You wake up in the dark and hear the screaming of the lambs.

Clarice Starling: Yes.

Hannibal Lecter: And you think if you save poor Catherine, you could make them stop, don't you? You think if Catherine lives, you won't wake up in the dark ever again to that awful screaming of the lambs.

Clarice Starling: I don't know. I don't know.

Hannibal Lecter: Thank you, Clarice. Thank you.

The Midnight Sun

x

Music from The Twilight Zone OST.

*

This song was from one of the most agonizing, distressing episodes of the Twilight Zone. Very well executed episode. And the music of the series is wonderful.

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim OST - Sovngarde

A winter's tale

(Copyrights belong to yours truly!)

This morning started very nicely. At first I spent couple of hours with Skyrim before I got an impulse to go out for a short walk with my camera, before going on errands. And as you can see, I took few pictures. Nothing special, just something.

It's finally a weather for winter. The air is filled with powder snow, that float in the air all around. And today the sky turned into a blue, clear one. And the air is cold. Perfect weather.
Although I get enjoyment out of this day, I've been feeling like my mood has starting to decline. But I'm treating it.

I've almost finished psychology 2 -course. But I need to keep working with my studies.
And I've become a better chef than a year ago.
It's obvious, that the adult psyche keeps on evolving, changing and learning new things. Even though years come and go and I'm starting to feel how fleeting the life is. At least I can better myself.

And talking about psyche, I've come to a decision, a conclusion, that I won't start dating anyone anymore. It's just not worth it. Searching everywhere and still not being able to search everywhere, because I don't have time or money for that. Searching and trying year after year and getting sour disappointments is not worth finding nothing that would stay. Even those who say, that we could stay friends don't really mean it and disappear. And especially fickle are the women under twenty four. They can look like adults, talk like adults, yet they reveal their childlike nature eventually. There's nothing wrong with being childlike or childish, but talking about things you don't have any real, mature experience, especially love, is just cruel. But explaining what I mean by that would take too much time to get into now. I just don't understand how the world works so I'm content with being by myself.

I'm also too complex person for anyone. For being an asexual for one, that's a real deal breaker, though people have been tolerant, it obviously needs more than that.
It's difficult to find someone who is interested in the same things I am and who might find me interesting. It's true that I'm more of a basic, uneventful guy, who doesn't have charisma or especially good looks. And my humor is dry - and quite frankly usually stupid. But I'm not saying all these things because I feel sorry for myself. I actually felt really good upon making this decision. After all, I like being by myself. Time to time I need to see the people I wish to have a social interaction with , but otherwise I'm content by being by myself.

I've always been like that, but after the breakup in summer, and now that months have gone by, I realized that I can't compromise my own wishes anymore for anyone. I can't - no, - I won't move into a different city just to be with someone. I won't wait till I can start making my own dreams for the future, I won't do things I wouldn't want or I won't be pressured into something I don't want to do. Being in a relationship has brought me nothing but grief so I'm done. I will remain a bachelor for my remaining life. Kind of like some of the men before the millennium. Except I'm not gay or alcoholic. I'll be the hermit kind of bachelor.

I've been dreaming for years of buying a small house with a plot of land, right next to some lake or river. Being surrounded by forest as far as the eye can see. And I've added somethings to this dream, like a shelter for abandoned pets. That's something that I could do, to give a meaning to my existence so that I don't feel lost and out of place.
Today I'm feeling hopeful.

                                                                             (Copyrights belong to yours truly!)

Valley of the Shadow of Death

I will fear no evil.

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I'm aware that I haven't updated my blog a lot lately. I've been busy with the "high school" assignments. Since I feel motivated, I need to finish as many courses as possible. And it's taking a lot of time - time I don't have. If I don't get the courses done in time, I will need to pay for the courses. So far it's been free.

I must get back to work.

I could also add, that I've been feeling quite alright since yule, joulu. The holidays with my family seemed to have given me some strength. But I fear that the effects will end eventually. Before that happens, I will keep living day to day basis.

I've heard some rumours about new Twin Peaks and I've enjoyed the Twilight zone - funny to see some actors I know from other places looking so young. Like the talented Dennis Hopper, who is one of my favourite actors to play villains. His role in Blue velvet was chilling to the bone.

And I have been waiting anxiously for the snow, that has been avoiding us for the past two months now. It's supposed to arrive soon, yet I don't dare to believe it. I really miss winter. My head is confused, as confused as the nature around us. Birds are singing like it's spring and people have spotted flowers growing. It's an anomaly to have this kind of warm winter. And it is bizarre.

(Copyrights belong to me - do not use these images)