"Moonlight plays upon this sunken brow, midnight ink bleeds wet mercurial clouds, By the crescent disc rising amethyst, somnambulist unharnessed storms the plough, By the crescent disc rising amethyst"

(Copyrights belong to yours truly)

I've meant to write something here, but I've been really busy and really tired. Yesterday I had some of the symptoms of depression, like anxiety, but this day has been better. So I do not know what yesterday was all about. Didn't I get enough sleep or what?

I cannot remember what kind of things ran through my mind, so I'll just write a short summary about some of the things:

I was very impressed with the first episode of Hannibal's second season. Very nice, indeed. Symbolism is one of my favourite art-forms so I really enjoy the visual aspects of the TV-show.

Studying continues with haste although there are days when I'm too tired to do anything and just rather relax and play Skyrim.

Soon the studying for entrance exams starts. I also am supposed to go through a course to help me with that. Expensive course, yet I feel like I do not really have a lot of choices. If I get into that school, I will have a future with the kind of profession I could do for the rest of my life - unlike the job I'm doing now. Under-paid and I do not have time to do any kind of art-projects.

(Copyrights belong to yours truly)

I've been thinking, why do I keep a blog, since I'm horrible writer? Blogs should be kept by people who can write. I enjoy reading well written blog-posts. It's an art-form of course to write coherent and interesting text. It's an art-form I've never mastered. That's probably why I keep getting somewhat low grades from literature-courses... I find writing difficult; the way I deliver the message, how to intrigue and what a good writing includes.

Also speaking is a skill I haven't mastered - as ridiculous as that sounds, but it's true to some degree. I "stutter" trying to find the right words and sometimes actually forget words, even the simplest words, so it is very exhausting. It's like I can think things coherently, clearly and know just the right words, but when I open my mouth or try to write down my thoughts my mind goes blank.
Lack of actual conversations is ultimately one of the main reasons for that.
Either way, I hope I will get some time at some point to try out making short comic strips about the things I want to tell about. Pictures are more easier way to tell things.

*

Lately I've been listening to Siouxsie and the Banshees, although that's one of the bands I have found hard to like. There are few songs I like, yet now that I've been listening to some of the albums after a long time, I noticed that I now like more songs than the last time I listened to them.

Some bands need a lot of listening-time to grow into; like me and  my first impressions of the great Joy Division, which didn't open up to me at first. Now I can't understand why did I find it so hard to like.

I've always liked the voice of Siouxsie Sioux. 
There are many female-singers who sound exactly the same as all the other ones, so I notice different singers and different voices. And Siouxsie Sioux has a soft yet powerful voice.
I also like the lyrics in their songs. I guess they are typical for gothic rock; dark, eloquent poetry. But I appreciate well written lyrics in all music. It's not a necessity, but I enjoy listening or reading it.
I also think that Siouxsie Sioux is one of the most beautiful women in the world. Lovely in many ways.

Amazing Billie Holiday- cover from Siouxsie and the Banshees - was here, but you can find it with the song-name "Strange fruit".

Southern trees bear a strange fruit,

Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,

Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze,

Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.

Pastoral scene of the gallant south,

The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,

Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh,

Then the sudden smell of burning flesh.

Here is fruit for the crows to pluck,

For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,

For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,

Here is a strange and bitter crop.