Here is the ideal:

I will surrender my heart
and love you as ever only imagined
in dreams of starlit ballads;

in your hands confide
all my aching wounds,
old love-battle scars; and

lay at your feet the keys
to hidden corners of my self.

All of this, through the prism of emotion,
is beautiful to you—not beyond compare
for I was never so foolish—but
more than enough to make you stay.

The reality
is never made of silk or velvet. It is not soft
like dawn or a misted rain, but sharp,
edged as winter's wind.

Here, then, is the hope:

My jagged edges will
line up with yours—click into place
like pieces of a puzzle—
and if not, the hope is still this:

We will not become the shards of our selves
and injure each other
while pulling the pieces apart.

So I'm 24 now. Whoopee.
Not feeling any wiser yet. :P

There's something wrong with my head and I'm tired of feeling like a fake. I am also tired of going up and down on the mood roller coaster.

What the fuck, brain? Just... what the fuck. I quit.

I'll just be over here. Reading stuff. And trying to make sense of myself.


Yeah. Same old same old. I cannot be fixed, isn't that nice. *kicks self* Stop moping and go do things. Mmmmcoffee. And books. Yeah. Books are good. Books are my friends.

See ya.


_{This ramble brought to you by a Lin in throes of a chronic existential crisis.}

Figures that J would catch some bug or other and become ill, thus making him unable to see me, just when we've been apart for over a week. >_< We did meet briefly at uni in the morning but that doesn't really count. Mmnauuurgh. Lami wants boi-cuddles. :(
That sounds incredibly self-centred. :P Still, though. Sucks. Here's to hoping that it's nothing serious and will pass quickly.


Oh, on another matter: it was the long-lost friend. I met up with him on Friday. We hadn't seen each other in over eight years. There have been changes in both of us and we weren't quite as comfortable as we used to be, but I guess time does that. If we start talking regularly, that shouldn't be a problem for too long since we still are two people who spent hours upon hours together when younger. We still have similar interests. So yeah, I'm kinda happy to have made contact again.

Gah ;_;
I finally watched Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog (and loved it) but why did no one think to tell me that it was sad? I was expecting light-heartedness! *snif*

Eh. Blargh. Something. Not sure I like it. At all. :/ Well, I like parts of it but...


How easy it seemed
to find those tiny grains of happiness
in every day of every year
how easy to forget that

inside, all the world is burning
and the meticulous craft of some devil
will eventually tip us off balance

send us

running blind
into the arms and mouths of every imaginable hell
where the mirage of some grace
awaits, hungry

and the distorted memory
of every smile and tear and game of tag
plays in our heads over

and over

and over

again

until nothing is the same
even though we kept faith
prayed and begged and pleaded
and so

this is where we surrender

I think the long-lost friend I've probably mentioned to some of you just added me on Facebook. I can't be absolutely certain because he doesn't have a proper profile picture and there isn't much in his user info, but the name does match. :) If it is him I will be really really happy. I've missed him. He was one of my few childhood friends so... yay. :)

I plan to (try and) participate in NaNoWriMo this year, but I'm having trouble deciding whether I should write in English or Finnish. Choices, choices... On one hand it would be nice to attempt to write in Finnish again. Keep up my prose and not let it fall by the wayside again. (Before last spring I had not written in Finnish in, oh, four years.) On the other hand, most of my readers - people on here and on deviantArt - would be in fact unable to read it. Sigh.


Yes, Trin, RiE will be finished... eventually... someday possibly very far in the future... <_<

Stolen from everyone else and converted to British spelling because I'm anal that way.


Section 1: Basic Information

Gender: Female, I suppose.

Hair colour: At the moment, chestnut with a bit of dirty blonde root beginning to show.

Eye colour: Blue/grey/green. Sometimes I think there's a bit of yellow lurking somewhere in there.

Height: 155 cm or thereabouts.

Location: Helsinki. Yay for half-term break!

Approximate weight: Somewhere around 59 kg, methinks. I need to lose a few kilos. <_<

Age: Not yet 24.

Birthplace: Hyvinkää.

Scars: A few. Mostly on my legs.

Astrological sign: Scorpio. Alternately, Fire Tiger.

Dominant hand: Right one. I have better balance on the left, though.

Dominant brain: Um. Right again?

Major/career: English Philology! :D I'm hoping to become a translator. Or an editor. Or a librarian. Preferably all of these.

Race: Irrelevant. Also blindingly obvious.

Glasses: Yes. Contact lenses on special occasions.

Braces: Once upon a time.

Piercings: Nay. Earrings don't count.


Section 2: Preferences

Favourite colour: Azure!

Favourite letter: Possibly L.

Favourite ice cream flavour: Mmm, that's a hard one. It could be chocolate. It could be toffee. It could also be lemon.

Favourite food: Sushi, Chinese, chicken...

Favourite drink: Tea.

Favourite "drug": None.

Favourite number: 42.

Favourite sport: Soccer, salibandy, badminton. Not actually interested in watching, though. Unless there is a friend to be cheered on. Usually there isn't.

Favourite subject: English! Music, arts and history are also close to my heart.

Favourite month: April, May and September, maybe?

Favourite song: Don't really have one.

Favourite book: See above.

Favourite season: All of them! Although if pushed I would say it's a toss-up between spring and autumn.

Favourite TV show: Uurm. I dunno, Firefly maybe? Again, I don't have just one favourite.

Favourite cartoon/anime character: More blankness.

Favourite series: Sir Edward Burne-Jones' paintings.

Favourite word: See the Elftionary. *shameless plug*

Favourite argument: The ones that backfire.

Favourite paradox/oxymoron: The one all procrastinators encounter.


Section 3: Serious Issues

What are your views on...

1. Liberalism? Does not concern me.

2. The existence of God? S/He may or may not exist. I am rather sceptical.

3. Jesus Christ? Was a real person, but I don't really buy the 'son of God' thing. Dude would technically be a zombie.

4. Abortion? I am pro-choice.

5. Global warming? It's real. It's also a natural phenomenon. I just think that we've sped it up.

6. Humanity? Hmm. It happens. Occasionally.

7. Vegetarianism? I applaud those who have the dedication. I'm a lapsed vegetarian, myself.

8. Animal abuse? No.

9. Capital punishment? I'm actually not sure anymore.

10. Evolution? Did happen, although sometimes it really doesn't seem like we got very far.

11. Extraterrestrial beings? Somewhere out there is life, I'm sure. I just don't think they would bother with all that elaborate abduction crap even if they ever came for a visit.

12. Heaven? If there is one, I'm not so sure I'll get there. I reserve judgment until the question is relevant.

13. Hell? Is on Earth already. But if there is a fiery inferno of some kind, that's probably where I'm headed.

14. Purgatory? That's a Catholic thing, right? Well, anyway, it's just as likely as Heaven and Hell, which means that I don't really have an opinion.

15. Ghosts? Not likely.

16. Serial Killers? Seriously fucked up.

17. Marriage? Equal for everyone! Aside from that, I don't much care.

18. Smoking? Keep the smoke away from me, thanks. You're welcome to ruin your own lungs if you really want to. Although I'm known to give some friends the Death Glare.

19. Drinking? Alright in moderation. Drunk people distress me.

20. Child abuse? Has a bit of a hair-trigger these days, I suppose. It can also be a fine and/or blurry line between necessary discipline and abuse.

I have a beautiful new tattoo. ^_^ Some of you already know what I took and where, but for those who don't: it's a note key with a little bird sitting on it, located on my hip. Pictures will be forthcoming once it heals (and because I'm impatient, maybe even before that).


edit: Here we go. The area is a bit swollen and the photo isn't very good, but it's sharp enough.

Jukka has a French girlfriend :P
I can admit to being the teensiest bit jealous, but mostly I'm just awwwing at it. Probably because it's a smaller shock the second time around and (more importantly) because I am quite infatuated with Jussi. I do worry about what will happen after her exchange year ends - will he be alone again? :/

http://www.unshelved.com/store/Shirts
<3

Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but it feels like the only times my period could be called anything even resembling regular are when I'm dating. If this actually is so, I'd like to have a word with my body.

THERE IS NOT GOING TO BE ANY GODDAMN BABY-MAKING. Kthxbai.

Sorry for being MIA so much again lately. The only reason I can give you is that time runs away when I'm with the boi. :)

There was a kiss. :)
Or, well, more a very soft pressing-together-of-lips but that still counts. I'm smiling non-stop again.

My conversations with Miss Curls get very... interesting sometimes. :P

13:18:55 <suhmu> now an image of a bunch of you making out with each other in my closet is stuck in my head
13:19:05 <Lami> Oh dear god xD
13:19:18 <Lami> That's so gross xD
13:19:44 <suhmu> :p
13:19:52 <suhmu> yeeees... gross...
13:20:01 <suhmu> I'll draw a picture and make a fortune

So out of the blue, while we're sitting in a lecture, Miss Curls asks me to write an erotic poem. I go "wha, I don't do that kind of stuff" but make an attempt anyway. Here's the result.


the clock on the nightstand
is ticking the stars away
glimmering between the curtains
on your muted skin
the moon smiles and knows
every breath caught in my throat

and

touch by touch
caressed over gentle curves
each minute is spent
letting my fingers meet
every contour of you

Observation: I felt thinner, prettier and overall more satisfied with my body when I had been to a morning walk on most of the mornings last week, even though logically there couldn't have been any real effect yet. Now when I haven't had time/energy for it these past couple of days I already feel uncomfortable in my skin again.
The psyche is a funny thing.

http://kuvaton.com/browse/15639/cat_then_and_now.jpg
:)

She was a quiet one. Always had been, and probably always would be. She often went unnoticed, being as quiet as she was, but she never minded. She could happily occupy herself with books and when she bothered with the world, she preferred the observer's position above any other. She rarely felt that she had something to give and when she did, she gave to those few who acknowledged her existence. Her life was simple enough. She was content.

This changed, of course, as things do. The year when her body decided that it was done morphing into expected yet unrecognisable shapes she came to a troubling realisation: she now wished to be noticed, if by no one else then by the apothecarist's son. That same year, her mother's health had begun to fail and it fell to her to fetch the myriads of medicines prescribed. Nothing seemed to help. She had to return time and again, and more often than not she would see the young man while running her errand. He was pleasant in all possible meanings of the word and, burned with shame as she was by the thought, she came to enjoy her meetings with him - even if he tended to look right through her. For him, she was not there, or at least no more of consequence than a lone moth that had strayed into the shop.

She tried to engage him in conversation but could not quite figure out how. She had never really tried before. There had been no point as she had not had anything to offer. But now a spark had lit, somewhere inside, and she wished to share it. She hoped, if she made herself audible, that he would see her. She tried and tried until she could only taste dust, and the last time she did she thought she felt a wingtip brush her lip.

She thought her lungs and throat were full of caterpillars. They must have been, for she could never speak a word past the butterflies in her mouth. By the end of summer, the apothecarist's son was betrothed, and she fell back to her silence. Soon after, her mother finally faded away.

The girl became a ghost.

One day in early autumn when the sun still had warmth enough to send through golden-red leaves and birds twittered among themselves, preparing to fly to warmer climates, she found a new path splitting the forest near her house.

For a small moment, she stared at it, hesitating. There was something different. Then she looked back and felt that spark flare one last time. She took a step and knew exactly where she was going.

The walk was long, but she never stumbled or faltered. Late in the evening she came to a clearing, like any other clearing in any other forest. The grey-white rock, placed roughly in the middle, looked inviting. She did not question it.

Sitting down on that rock, gathering her tattered clothes about her figure, she waited for the sun to set. As the last rays hit her eyes, blinding her, she opened her mouth and curved her back. Her bony fingers shook.

A cloud of blue and brown butterflies fluttered up to the trees and fell into dust.

I'll probably be going on a date this weekend. :)