True that

I don't make sense today.

Of brainfarts and powerpop

The very interesting and somewhat unwanted side effect of my therapy is that now I experience actual anxiety and nerves and whatnot, and lulling myself to a calm, sheer awesome state is painfully hard and near-impossible. While it is progress, it also came at the worst possible time - the lovely and ever-so-joyful exam period. So far I my nerves managed to shock me into muteness at an oral exam and I fainted at another one (okay, that was too much caffeine + hellish heat +  freakishly low blood pressure + a malnourished body, but still, after I recovered I could have talked myself back into the exam if not for the nerves and muteness and shit - shit as a metaphor mind you, not actual shit, that would have been unpleasant).

In six hours I have a really important exam that I can't fail, therefore I decided to take the hit me with your best shot, sucker! approach, learned everything there is to know and now I'm just concentrating on breathing. Well that, and typing, but that does not count.

To love a silly little piece of music

I remember when I first saw the movie Almost Famous - it was the extended cut. The scene where Penny Lane dances to the The Wind by Cat Stevens invoke something, and I felt I never wanted anything more than to be that girl, to be part of something, to support and aid some amazing, conflicted, broken, talented people like those in that movie. I then proceeded to forget all about it, life went on, I grew up (or at least I got older - I sometimes think I was born an adult and I progress towards childhood and not the other way around as you're supposed to).

I pretty much spent my teenage years locked up in my room, reading, doing homework, playing computer games, not because I was antisocial or anything, I just wanted to be a good kid.

And then, at 19 I had a very bad day and I let a then-friend drag me to a metal concert and something broke in me and I knew I belonged, there, with those people on the stage in whatever capacity they'd have me.

Though I was not working consciously toward my goal or anything, from then on it seemed as though the musicians I met liked me, they rarely treated me as 'just a fan', more like something between a buddy, a psychologist and a mom. Never a groupie wanting a roll with a semi-famous person.

And so when a few years later I found myself in a foreign country setting up a merchandise table, waiting for the doors to open I suddenly remembered that scene from that movie and I realized I somehow managed to become exactly what I wanted to be without really trying.

And then I missed a plane and found myself in Belgium and hallucinated after not sleeping for 38 hours and it was an emotional roller-coaster and rock stars today don't really drink backstage but play angry birds on their stupid phones and I just sat there watching them and smiling to myself trying not to look too creepy.

Special Hell

There are these people who write comments to ongoing stories in a way that you can just tell they talk at the theater.

Of potential and disappointment

Whenever I read something that starts out good and original and exciting and then turns into oh-god-no-why and it had so much potential, I can't help but wonder if that is what my teachers feel about me.

The lovely tidbits of time and sex

It's kinda cute that the world's oldest profession is prostitution and the tale as old as time is love.