Habits die hard

Instead of smoking
We could breathe
And instead of watching
We could see
Instead of wearing heavy coats
We could turn the heating on

Family {present words from Corey

Flip a coin and / or explode.

Family {past words to Egle

.I will pour my heart out to you when you're next to me holding my hand.
.This, too, will probably be over soon so I don't know if there's any point. I have lost faith and am jaded. Quickly! Where could I get a fairy tale book?
.I think I might need an enormous amount of sweet nothings and romance before my soul is dear again.

Night guests

I was in a large student house
and my ex was upstairs
and we were alone
I was cleaning downstairs
it was dark and winter
and the streets were empty
but all the windows were open to let the air in
and then this creepy old homeless man with a dog started talking to me through the window
and I tried to be polite
but also said that I had to close the windows
and I wasn't too scared 'cause I knew Jaanus was upstairs
but the creepy man said that he didn't think so
and started climbing in from the window
and I said that my friend's upstairs
he just smiled and came in
and I tried to scream
but my voice was lost
and that's when I woke up

Uku and Mai under the stars

Stars are everything. They are time, chance and luck.

There were boys and girls under the stars. There was one boy for every girl and one girl for every boy. And for every star there was a boy and a girl in love. The stars were supposed to hold them together.

But the stars wondered around too much and got mixed up. So did the boys and girls.

Sometimes a boy or a girl would grab hold of a star, convinced it was theirs. Stars got confused of the wrong boy or girl and shook them down the edge of earth. That's how other stars lost their boys and girls. A beautiful idea and a plan full of love became a catastrophic bundle of nonsense.

Time passed. It was a rare thing now for the right boy or the right girl to find the right star, even more rare for the right boy to find the right girl or the other way around, and almost a miracle for them to meet under the right star together.


This is a story about Uku and Mai.
..............................................................

Or whoever YOU choose.

I feel autumn in my bones and winter in my heart. This is why I want spring in my head and summer in my veins.
This should answer all your questions.

Stuart

Stuart worked at a local bar where he officially got drunk from Thursday to Monday and not officially from Monday to Thursday. He had a ‘buddy’ called Harry (from Monday to Thursday he was referred to as a ‘drunk’). Harry was a middle-aged, big-nosed, comforting-faced, buddy-like person.

“What is happiness?” he once asked Stuart.

“Happiness is when you can abandon your whole life and not feel a thing,” answered the barman with a smirk. “’Cause that means you’re free and freedom is happiness. Past is a prison of shame.”

“That’s funny ‘cause I always thought it was the other way around you see. That committing to something you care deeply about is the way to go. Which brings me here, to this cozy little pub, trying to get pissed every day of the week when I know I can’t any more. What I’m really doing is committing to the one thing I care deeply about- rum!” Harry laughed. “Cheers, Stu!”

Stuart was left bemused. “Are you happy, my friend?”

“Happier with the glass than without it. I think. I am a drunk and you are a man with no past. When I look at you and then when I look at myself, I’d say we’re both far far faaaaaaar away from the answer. Far away from the truth,” said Harry and skulled the last of his rum.

Blackberry Stone by Laura Marling

Well I own this field,
And I wrote the sky,
And I have no reason to reason with you.

I'd be sad that I never held your hand as you were lowered,
But I'd understand that I'd never let it go.
I'd be sad that I never held your hand as you were lowered,
But I'd understand the world does what it does.

You never did learn to let the little things go.
You never did learn to let me be.
You never did learn to let little people grow.
You never did learn how to see.

But I'd whisper that I love this man,
Now and for forever,
To your soul as it floats out of the window,
To the world that you turned your back on,
To the world that never let you be.

And I am lower now, and Laura still,
And you did always say that one day I would suffer.
Did always say that people get their pay.
You did always say that I was going places,
And that you wouldn't have it any other way.

But I couldn't turn my back on the world for what I like wouldn't let me.
But I couldn't turn my back on the world for what I like, I needed.

And I shouldn't turn my back on the sweet smelling blackberry stone.

Doubt

'A woman was gossiping with her friend about a man whom they hardly knew - I know none of you have ever done this. That night, she had a dream: a great hand appeared over her and pointed down on her. She was immediately seized with an overwhelming sense of guilt. The next day she went to confession. She got the old parish priest, Father O' Rourke, and she told him the whole thing. 'Is gossiping a sin?' she asked the old man. 'Was that God All Mighty's hand pointing down at me? Should I ask for your absolution? Father, have I done something wrong?' 'Yes,' Father O' Rourke answered her. 'Yes, you ignorant, badly-brought-up female. You have blamed false witness on your neighbor. You played fast and loose with his reputation, and you should be heartily ashamed.' So, the woman said she was sorry, and asked for forgiveness. 'Not so fast,' says O' Rourke. 'I want you to go home, take a pillow upon your roof, cut it open with a knife, and return here to me.' So, the woman went home: took a pillow off her bed, a knife from the drawer, went up the fire escape to her roof, and stabbed the pillow. Then she went back to the old parish priest as instructed. 'Did you cut the pillow with a knife?' he says. 'Yes, Father.' 'And what were the results?' 'Feathers,' she said. 'Feathers?' he repeated. 'Feathers; everywhere, Father.' 'Now I want you to go back and gather up every last feather that flew out onto the wind,' 'Well,' she said, 'it can't be done. I don't know where they went. The wind took them all over.' 'And that,' said Father O' Rourke, 'is gossip!''

But what happens at 5 o'clock?

White morning. Clear and pure. A beautiful sight to behold. I caught what my third eye couldn't and it was a wonderful catch.
I moved my bed next to the window. How can I be miserable when the first thing when I open my eyes is see heaven?
I put my favourite books on the windowsill. How can I be miserable if the first thing I breathe in is understanding from people I’ve never met?
I put some photographs of my favourite place on the wall. How can I be miserable if the first thing I feel is everlasting content?
I put my friend on the floor next to me. How can I be miserable if the first thing I hear is the sound of laughter?
I let my lover next to me. How can I be miserable if I’ve spent the night awake in my dreams?

Purple night. Dirty in it’s hush and vulgar in it’s sounds. A cold to reach each fingertip. I caught what I had to so I would never have to say this again.
I moved my bed next to the window. How can I be happy when the last thing before I close my eyes is see a starless and unforgiving sky?
I put my ashtray on the windowsill. How can I be happy if the last thing I breathe in will be my death?
I put a clock and a calendar on the wall. How can I be happy if the last thing I feel is the time running out?
I put my enemy on the floor next to me. How can I be happy if the last thing I hear is the sound of mockery?
I let my lover next to me. How can I be happy if I've spent the night a thousand miles away from him?