You can still contact me at svaha@iki.fi

25 June 03: Freedom Of Thought, Freedom Of Heart

I didn't write anything yesterday, since I was very unclear of what I actually thought or wanted to say; and I feared that if I tried to work it out through the words on the screen while writing, it would take a while and make it look like I attach too much importance to what happened on Monday, and that might affect the behaviour of some people. I fought the urge to get back to this diary all of yesterday out of sheer contrariness, and as a side effect realized how important it has become to me: words, my only point of fixture while adrift in this empty space; a breathing tube; almost a compulsion. And it was strange and interesting and sort of amusing and sort of a relief to notice that.

And then I decided, screw it all! I am not going to censor myself out of fear. If words are so important, then they must be true words, not something chosen carefully to give a certain view of me; of my mind; of my soul. Honesty of emotion is and always has been the one thing that is stronger than my fear, and I am bloody well going to keep it so. I will write what I write and let others draw whatever conclusions they will.

So, here are some truths that I came to know.

Despite what I said, it was not meaningless. Not to me, that is. I am under no illusion as to it meaning anything else to The Certain Someone (of course it was him; who else could it have been? I have sometimes been known to engage in friendship sex, but that isn't something I'd describe in these current terms) than what it was: a momentary sharing of physical desire. I knew it could harldy be anything else, ever; knew it and accepted it and still let it happen. I attached, do not attach, and will not attach any other interpretations, demands, objections or whatever to it.

Yet to me, personally, it was not meaningless; and I will say so no more. It was life. It was the true fire that the phoenix lives from; a momentary flash, a short spark of flame in the wings and wind underneath them. For a moment, I lived and flew again. Because for whatever stupid reason, he is special, and I love him. That it was then back to the desert of un-life is not his fault: I just don't happen to have any other things that make me feel alive at the moment. It's not that he could be the only meaning to me, ever - it just so happens that there are no other meanings I can feel right now. Except for words themselves.

Is it a wonder that I wanted more of it?

On the other hand, it's quite human, and female-like, to want more anyway, and I'm officially okay with it the way it was.

But it was not meaningless. It never will be. This does not change anything; not how I choose to behave with him, around him, or without him; I just wanted to be honest with myself and not demean the only true fire at my fingertips at this time and age of the journey. Yes, it's a bit bitter, and more than a bit sad, that this is so, but it's all I have, and I choose to accept it as it is.

A little fire every now and then, or even just once, is better than no fire at all. And a little warmth by the wayside does not prevent me from the possibility of some other great flame somewhere behind the mountains, later.

Later.

And this answers the cynical question I've been hearing at the back of my head: "So, now you've had the one thing you said you wanted before death; now what?" The answer is: now nothing is changed. Except, perhaps, my vision has cleared a little, and death does not seem like the simple bow-out it did before. I notice that even after the flame; even after him; I want to make the decision on life and death based on truth and moral, not on selfish feelings. I am still seeking meaning, a greater meaning than giving up without answers out of simple exhaustion. I may get too tired and frustrated one day... perhaps. But it will not be out of heartbreak.

And this does not change one whit of the truth that I love him very much, as stupid as it may be.

I went to visit Topi and Heli yesterday; mostly just chatted and lounged around while people played gameconsole games. They're coming on Friday to watch Robin of Sherwood. Today, I was feeling ill (the flu lingering still, or maybe PMS) and had a stomachache (definitely the PMS), so I slept most of the day, even through Anni and the rest of Lyra Livida practicing here. Now I am going to finish up Aarne's clothes. I'm not yet sure if they're going to meet with my personal approval... we'll see.

I should probably take the dog to another walk. It's late, but it would help with the stomachache and the general irritation.

I got a place in Eryndia next weekend. I noticed something funny about my wardrobe, but will not state it here before the game, as it might be considered a spoiler. There are many questions that I want to ask about my character and her group, but all in all I think it a lot of fun to go to a big fantasy game after a long while.

The Estonia trip, on the other hand, is beginning to seem less and less likely.

I had a particularly nasty dream last night, or some time during the day. It was another of those undetermined times around, or after, a larp. It was night; and it was summer. I was already angry for some reason I can't remember, and I projected that anger to Tommi and the new girlfriend he had in the dream (it was a particular source of anger that the girl was a live-action gamer - which would be very improbable - and that she was small and dark-haired and and seemed nice in a no-nonsense way). I had made a firm decision to avoid them altogether, but instead, the dream found me attacking the girlfriend physically with no warning at all, and screaming incoherent insults while brawling with her. It was awful. It scared me, even when I woke up. I suppose I must email Tommi just to make this weird feeling go away.

For the record, no, I would not mind if he had a girlfriend. He should have; he needs a family. Okay, I might feel a little sting simply because he had someone and I don't, but that's only human, and I most definitely would not attack anyone because of that. However, I can still recognize the feelings of loss and jealousy that were overwhelming in the dream. I just want to shake their aftereffects off as soon as possible.

Oh, remembered another random observation that I was going to make yesterday but didn't: I went to a walk with the dog on Monday night, between one and two, and A Certain Someone was right about that, too, dammit. It helped with whatever frustration it was that I was feeling then. It was a strange night, though: there were sheets of heavy mist rising from dells and the Kylmäoja brook, and it smelled vaguely unpleasant, like something rotten. Perhaps it was a sign of summer frost, I don't know. I saw a bat over the small pond in Ristipuronpuisto, and the red lights of the Hiekkaharju water reserve tower reflected in the pond. I was going to walk to a little hill next to Valkoisenlähteentie and wait for sunrise, but by two am sweat was pretty much freezing on my neck, so I went back home.

But tonight, soon, I will go and see the sunrise. I won't be able to sleep yet anyway.

As memories go, I'm reminded of several nights of staying up far too late. I've always been a late sleeper and an even later riser. In Senior High, I almost invariably had to get up at seven, and I was no good to anyone until I'd had ten or fifteen minutes without even an attempt at conversation, sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor and reading Helsingin Sanomat. Even my father, who by rights got the paper first, probably gave up more parts of it than he really would have, because I was so grumpy. I can't really remember - that's how grumpy I was. Mornings were personal hell. If my parents had not been teachers (and in the same building, no less - my teachers in Junior High), I might not have always made it to school.

I didn't dare to fall asleep in class - I was a good girl, and anyway, most of the teachers were friends of the family - but it was sometimes close. I also remember the view of crimson winter sunrise from the top floor windows: I did get lost in that one many, many times. I always had the ability to experience the sort of rapture over beauty that L.M.Montgomery details in the books about Emily of New Moon; a sort of completely spiritual orgasm over something extremely, sharply aesthetic (not that I knew how to describe it like that, of course). I wonder how common it really is; I've never encountered it anywhere else.

Well, that turned into memories of getting up, not staying up, but that's fine with me.

23 June 03: Meaning, Lack Of

Been a bad girl, too lazy to write. Or maybe the decision to write about my past was too big, after all. It seems to imply that I actually expect to end up with some meaningful pieces of writing sooner or later; and that, of course, implies trust in one's abilities, and that, of course, is Not Proper Behaviour...

Anyway. Whether one or the other or something more, here I am, still, in a weird mood that can't decide what it is. It's finally summer, a proper summer: the lilies- of-the-valley are gone (I picked the last ones on Saturday), and the Midsummer Rose is finally beginning to bloom in our back yard. However, my existential crisis shows no signs of abating.

I had a highly satisfying Midsummer Eve: as I said, Petri and Paula came over, and we grilled and ate a humongous amount of meat, accompanied with stuffed bacon-wrapped mushrooms, new potatoes, Scandinavian herring, dill-pickled cucumbers and mixed grilled vegetables. We'd had a mix-up about dessert, so I whipped up some chocolate sauce, and we had it with pineapple, melon and ice cream from the freezer while watching Robin of Sherwood. Among the feelings of nostalgia awakened by the series, there was an all-new appreciation for the hilariously slash-y subtext of the relationship between the Sheriff of Nottingham and Guy of Gisbourne (poor lout!). Besides, Robin is still almost unimaginably gorgeous; Marian is still unfairly beautiful (and, girls, our only solace was crushed while I watched the documentaries: That Hair was, indeed, real...), Nazir is an absolute hottie to a grown woman's eye, and the sheriff is a delight in all ways.

However, after they left on Saturday, I dropped quickly back to the by-now familiar feeling of emptiness and irritation. I slept a lot, having admitted that I picked up that bug from Irrette after all (I kept having headaches and my pulse was - is - way too high), but even then, by Sunday night I was bored out of my skull. I even thought of going out to a nightclub to dance the angst off, but couldn't drag up that much energy, and couldn't find anywhere interesting to go.

I returned more than half-seriously to the idea of going somewhere far away for some humanitarian work. Nepal, like Jonni? Somewhere in Africa? I guess Latin America is out, as I don't speak Spanish. I don't know. And in the end, I fear I'll end up not finding it practically possible, after all. But it might at least give me something meaningful to do. On the other hand, what is meaningful, then? If I can't see the value in existence itself; in life, my own life; then what meaning is there to helping the life of others, either?

On lighter fronts, I am now thoroughly spoiled for the new Harry Potter book and so am not forced to buy and read it; I can wait until I can borrow it. I went and read some livejournals and got all the information I needed - I know who died; I know who ended up going out with whom; and a few other assorted details. The general sentiment in the adult fandom seems to be that the book is very bleak, harsh and difficult to stomach, and that they would not give it to anyone under 10 to read. We'll see... later.

I am also more and more in awe of the personality, passion, brains and dedication of Ebony Thomas, the teacher and Harry Potter fanfiction writer from Detroit that I've mentioned before. I'm trying to gather up courage to write to her sometime, but I'm sure she gets so much mail from teenage fangirls that I feel somewhat hesitant of being another bother in the line... At least now I could add the (possibly but not necessarily amusing) anecdote that she was my inspiration in creating a superhero RPG character strongly interested in actual humanitarian aid, racial issues and multiculturalism. I wonder if that is actually flattering, or is it too trivializing? I don't mean it to be. (Oh... if you go to her pages, beware of those Harry Potter spoilers.)

Today... it's difficult to write about today. Not hard; just difficult, because I have to decide how to refer to certain events that happened. Perhaps it's better to stick to abstractions. The day's question is: in meaningless sex, which is more important, the "meaningless" part, or the "sex" part? And is the equation changed, and if so, how, by the fact that meaningless sex was had with a person who is everything but?

Yes, it was good. Yes, I was okay with it. Yes, the situation was very clear on both sides, and quite comfortable. So maybe this is simply frustration about the fact that I wanted more of it, and the other person didn't, not right then. (I like my sex as a five-course meal; instead, this person likened sex with me to a 300g chocolate cake - sometimes one simply craves it, but after having one at once you don't really feel like having another; not then and not for quite a while. I'm trying to take this as a compliment, or at least not as an insult.)

So, I've accomplished what I've tried so hard through the years - turned into chocolate through and through. I guess I should feel the satisfaction of a task completed.

Instead, I am back to square one: meaning, lack of, and the meaning of the lack.

Oh, the memory? Well, I decided days ago that I would write about the Midsummer night that has stayed best in my mind through all these years. I was maybe fourteen - can't remember the exact year - and our family was vacationing with my cousins in Kangasniemi, in the lake area, and we'd taken my cousin Nina, who is a year older than I am (the cousin that lives in Hong Kong now, if you remember), with us. The night was very beautiful, and very calm, and very green. Nina and Nanne (two years younger than I am; currently living in Paris) and I took a rowboat and rowed in the midst of the islands in the lake, and at midnight stopped at a small, shallow bay at one of the islands. The night was full of milky-white half-light and so green it was almost too much to bear; the water was clear and smooth as glass, and there were fingers of mist rising from it that looked like scratches on glass; and the only sound was the song of a cuckoo somewhere on the other side of the water, that went on and on and on, without pause, all through the hour.

The night was so alive with the magic of this land that I've never felt its like since, and have always longed to.

Where is my magic now? Why can I not find it anymore?

19 June 03: Sick

And our series of exciting matches continues: flu I - Kristiina 0.

Just want to sleep... P&P will come here tomorrow to spend Midsummer with me. We're going to watch Robin of Sherwood, eat lots of grilled goodies and just be lazy.

I'd better get back to bed to be able to do anything tomorrow.

Before that, however: I made a decision. This diary has slipped back into meaninglessness. I am not actually saying anything at all. That will stop. From now on, every day, I will write about a memory, any memory. It may or may not be randomly picked; it may or may not make sense in context; that depends on how much I can be bothered to write at that time. We'll see how long it takes to cover my past comprehensively, shall we?

Today, for obvious reasons, I'll keep it short: my first conscious memory.

I'm two and a half. It's Christmas at Grandmother's apartment in Savonlinna. I have received as a present a large doll with a dark bob (I named her Anja, but I can't remember if it was then or later) and a doll's baby carriage, big enough for this particular doll. I'm sitting on the living-room floor next to the sofa that has always been under the old grandfather clock, and the bed part of the baby carriage is lying next to me, off its wheels. My hand is on its edge. My legs are more or less straight. One of my maternal uncles, probably Jouni (the younger one, who by then would have been sixteen or seventeen) is sitting on the sofa, asking me something about the doll and the carriage. I answer him with absolute certainty. It may be about the doll's name; probably is; but I can't be sure. I don't remember where anyone else is, except that another person sits further on the sofa, and it's neither of my parents.

I always loved that doll. Ordinary baby clothes fit her, so she had an extensive wardrobe. When I was older, I made up stories about how she was a little Russian duchess, orphaned and sent to a school much like the one Sara goes to in "The Little Princess".

Where is the doll now? Safely stored, of course. All my dolls and miniature horses are there, in the storehouse at Dad's place. I had a lot of dolls when I was small. Mom used to knit costumes for them, but most of them only had one or two dresses, unlike Anya. I wonder if I could remember all their names now, even if I dug them out of the boxes? Probably not. A pity...

18 June 03: Shopping

Hmh. Coffee I - sleeping tablets 0. Coffee wins with a knockout. Except, in this case, with whatever is the opposite of knockout. I didn't get to sleep until nine in the morning, when I originally had planned to get up. Slept until afternoon, then, and finally dragged oneself to town to pay for those phone bills. Now I'm back to the lands of the living connections.

Bought some hairstuff; still managed to resist temptation to get this black colour off my hair and become a redhead again - or even go all blonde. I've often toyed with the idea lately, and my hair's in a pretty good shape now It's a shortish- to-mid-length bob, not quit reaching my shoulders or covering the nape of my neck, with long bangs that should probably be trimmed a bit by now. It's short enough to not lie flat if I work it a bit, and yet long enough to be there. Lissu said it suits me.

So. Is it time to get red again? Or perhaps go all the way? Shouldn't a girl try it for once in her life?

I also bought a lantern at a sale in Indiska and hung it up as soon as I got home. It's nice, though it doesn't let as much light through as I though. So I guess I should just start saving for that big ball of red glass mosaic they also sell...

Met Lissu for coffee; then got home and met with Aarne to plan his costume for Eryndia. We reached quite an agreeable understanding, and it's another project I look forward to with pleasure.

Oh, and last night, in the throes of insomnia, I delved into the script of one of the Ropecon projects after a long while... It's going to come about, just as the other thing is. I'm determined.

Just as soon as this headache stops and the weird feeling that suddenly makes me experience the connection from my ears to the back of my throat goes away... I have not caught the killer summer flu; I have not caught...

17 June 03: Fine Feathers

Sold a couple of costumes to a nice young lady who waited patiently while I re-sewed the velvet fringe in the beautiful painted-fabric "hell's window" surcotte with which I've had a love-hate relationship. It seems Tuikku had developed one, too; that's why the re-sewing (he had peed on it - AGAIN!). Well, now it's done and gone, and I won't have to think about it again. I love the shape of the "hell's window" style, but it looks awful with my heavy upper body.

Also sold a cape that has been with me ever since the beginning of my LARP experiences - I made it for "Fantasiapidot" in '95. It's been very useful, but I have so many other capes by now that I don't need it.

Topi and Heli came to visit after my customer left, and we chatted, sauna'ed, admired Heli's new gambeson (gorgeous blue velvet, custom made from the Czech R.) and steel gauntlets (I mean, how hot are those?? Whew!), and made a deal for new costumes for them. I finally get to make one of those short- waisted Italian Renaissance styles!! I've planned one for myself for ages, but I've never needed to really get my teeth into it, and now that I have that red and pink low-waisted number I don't think I'm going to bother with another Renaissance dress soon. Heli's will be blue velvet - naturally!

I played one of the Ropecon show songs for Heli, and we had ice cream (SunIce Fragolata - the strawberry one - fantastic!) and tea. Unfortunately, I had coffee, and had a bit too much of it. I drank the rest of the pot (it's a small pot!) when they'd gone, and thought nothing of it... until I suddenly developed acute trembling and weakness of limbs. I guess it was too much, for once. Well, I had not had any coffee for days, and it seems I won't be having any for a while, either. I hate it when my thighs go all weak.

I had plans to get up early this morning... didn't. Maybe tomorrow, then. I hope to meet Lissu and Taika later tomorrow, anyway.

And I really, actually hope to get my phone connection opened tomorrow, finally.

I'm still going to go to Estonia for that LARP in the beginning of July, but now I know that T&Q have definitely made other plans. Bah. :( A couple of boys have expressed interest in going; we'll see it they actually make it.

Note to self: must remember to apply for a new passport tomorrow!

16 June 03: The Queen Of Procrastination

Managed to avoid or pretend to start a lot of things today. The only actual accomplishment was magicking a full-circle skirt for Lin out of a slate-blue linen mix that I inherited from Satu along with all those other fabrics a while ago. It turned out rather bearably; it only took me about an hour and a half, plus half an hour for choosing the fabric, taking measurements etc., and now I have a burning desire to make a similar one for myself. Unfortunately, it takes at least 3,5m of fabric, so my choices are somewhat limited.

Besides, I have loads of projects to finish for others and for money, first. I'm already getting excited about designing a royal costume for Aarne for Eryndia - and not only that, though that's gonna be the speediest order (the game is the weekend after next). I hope to be making a few costumes for friends after that... and the fabrics won't run out in any near future...

Anni left to work at Fiskars for the summer. She'll come back occasionally; next time is in two weeks. She left the cat for us to take care of, at least for now. Tuikku is aggressively sweet ("the superpower of all cats", says Lin), but he does have issues with his current brand of sand... let's hope the problem doesn't get bad in this while.

I decided to take half a sleeping pill to get my timetable back to shape. Hope it works. Must fiddle with sewing projects a bit before someone comes to look at the costumes for sale, and Topi and Heli will be visiting in the evening.

15 June 03: Somewhat Alive

Was supposed to meet Taika, but after getting up, discovered a headache and went to have a nap to get rid of it... and the rest you can guess. The headache persisted until evening - actually still persists - but I've decided it only requires a good night's sleep for banishment.

Met with A Certain Someone later today. Hung out, had a nice chat, nothing very big or special. Made me glad, anyway. Still pining. Still sticking to being honourable. Still cursing it all. Still here, though, and nearly feeling alive.

Truth is in the fragrance
of fresh lilac and lily-of-the-valley

How do I tell you, once more
(once only)
that I live for you
like the lilac and the lily live for spring

in this brief flowering of green fire
and all those things that are true

How do I make you accept
like the spring accepts the flower and the fire:
they are its due, as it is theirs,
in the sheer delight of existence
which is the only truth there is

14 June 03: Aftereffects

The nightmares continued in a more structured narrative containing parallel dimensions, demon worshippers, pornographic rituals, Pippi Longstrump and her house (with complimentary portals to those unpleasant parallel dimensions), pitiful attempts to fly (and become non-corporeal, so no-one could pull me down from my laughable height of maybe two meters), diplomatic/spy trips to some undefined country (a weird cross between Estonia, Near East and a sheerly alien culture) where, among other things, I got to go to riding lessons for 20 FIM (yes, old marks) but, naturally, was interrupted due to those undisclosed spy reasons until I got nowhere near a horse. Yeah, that was the nice part of the dream. The rest of the spy plots I can't remember.

I said "more structured"; I didn't say more sensible.

As an extra feature, I got a war story, with mass shelters; napalm bombs; world-wide fire; a LARP husband that stayed out to the last minutes (and of course the "real me" surfaced long enough that I was absolutely certain he did not want to come to the shelter because he did not want to have to interact with me...); a comic book collection that I was desperately trying to find copies of to give to people as a farewell gift before going to the shelter; a high-level spy in the shelter complex that I tried to accompany without making him do something infinitely harmful; more desperate and miserable fistfights for my life even after I'd thought I could safely leave the spy for Kalle to take care of; an attempt on our four-year-old LARP son by the same high-level spy (he escaped); and a poison the spy had managed to place somewhere in the products of the pharmacist's at the shelter complex. All this was filled with the same feelings of hopelessness, despair and mindless panic of being hunted as the earlier dreams.

Anni came to wake me around half past two pm, to tell me that if I could drag myself awake, there was going to be a good movie on downstairs in the home theatre. I thanked her and actually did wake up, but couldn't manage to move around for more than an hour. Even when I did, I was so dizzy I could hardly stay upright. I still am, after a trip to the station and the pharmacist (finally got the necessary medication again!) and the grocery store, a proper lunch and a few hours spent on Helsingin Sanomat and the Net. It would be nice to take the car and go somewhere to meet people, but this dizziness won't stop and is so bad that I'm not sure I'm a safe driver today.

Besides, I still don't have a phone, and no-one else's phone is around either. Drat. Now that I think about it, I would love to hang out with a friend or a few, somewhere at home (mine or theirs, whatever).

The phone would be handy for another reason, too. Anni and I managed another fight on the way to the train station via the video rental store. I don't feel particularly good about it now. Fault on both sides, surely... still. Don't feel good.

It would be nice to do some cleaning up as well, but it's just physically impossible right now. Well, maybe the wooziness will be over by tomorrow. It should be, if it's only about the overexhaustion of yesterday.

(Later) I've walked the dog and got some much-needed exercise; I've been to the sauna; the dizzy spell went away in the evening; and my room is full of the smell of fresh lilac and lily-of-the-valley. Not too bad an ending to the day.

The patch of hill and forest that I've talked about has been turned into an arboretum. Okay, that justifies the paths and things. I approve.

13 June 03: Bah

I officially proclaim this Cosmic Unfairness Day.

Screw it all.

No, I don't feel like explaining, and no, it doesn't have anything to do with me - for once.

Spent yesterday evening and last night sewing Irrette's costume. It turned out tolerably okay, I suppose - but this time, I finally had to examine how many hours exactly it is that I actually put into making costumes before larps. The number is far higher than I had registered, even now, even after all these years of last-minute sewing. Perhaps I might finally begin to learn some actual time management.

Didn't get to sleep at night and only managed a couple of hours in the afternoon, so all evening has been a haze of overexhaustion, nausea and ill will.

Still not too successful in listing reasons to be alive. Not that I really feel very awful (well, right now I do, but not in general); it's all just meaningless. And why be a waste of time, energy, space and air if there's nothing worth doing it for?

No, I'm not even particularly apathetic. I just don't feel anything except... well, empty.

(4.42 am) Four hours of sleep, then woke up from nightmares that seemed like an endless fight for my life against cruel crime bosses that took it personally that I tried to escape from their hordes of assassins; groups that just simply wanted me and mine (and they were very accidentally mine) killed; supernatural crime bosses and assassins; long and horrible car chases; magical means of hideaways that didn't work just when they should have; atom bombs that killed tens of thousands of people just for me and those accidental mine; manticores that I only managed to survive because Tommi had made a gamemaster decision that I would, no matter how poorly I performed, as my present GM condescendingly (and disapprovingly) told me; and more and more various desperate struggling to survive against hopeless odds, and feeling every second of that hopelessness hammered into me as a string of panicky heartbeats. What the fuck was all that? Wasn't the day bad enough?

It was particularly ironic when looked at after my speeches of how little I care about survival. The dreams gave me no time to consider whether I really wanted to; they just drove me by mindless fear. Fear of hate and despite, fear of pain... mostly just fear of pain. Simple, animal fear of being the hunted.

And it just went on and on. When I woke up, my jaws hurt from gnashing my teeth in my sleep.

There were some highly original and magical visions, yes - and I did survive until I woke up - but it was always, always by a hair's breath; by accident; by favoritism that I didn't deserve so maybe something would overrule it any moment...

Bad mistake not to have re-stocked on sleeping pills. I don't really need them often, no matter how badly I am (I've used exactly eighteen pills in eighteen months), but sometimes dreamless sleep is infinitely desirable. (And of course, there are those occasional panic attack nights like last Saturday, after the game - which is why I was prescribed some in the first place.)

I'm not very coherent, but I don't think that can be asked of me right now. I really, really didn't like this.

Oh well, if this ramble served no other purpose, at least it let me calm down enough to be able to sleep again. I thought I'd have to crawl into some other bed in the house simply because I couldn't otherwise, not alone. Now I'm pretty cool, I think.

11 June 03: Climbing Up From The Sea Of Sleep

Finally over the post-game exhaustion. More highly interesting dreams (if I ever was a shapechanger, you can be sure my animal shape would NOT be a Labrador retriever! and I certainly wouldn't go about irritating werebears to shake myself into that animal shape!), most of which I have forgotten by now. From the odd feeling of regret I deduce that there was something more uplifting than finding out one could turn into a slobbering bunch of eager loyalty.

Besides, I would surely be a Cockerspaniel instead of a Labrador.

I'm not making much sense, am I?

Finally got myself properly working, too. Made the cutest little blouse and quite a nice skirt for Irrette; still working on the underskirt. Watched the end half of Attack of the Clones with Anni and Lin, except missed the part where Yoda kicks ass (or, as Lin put it, "does an impression of a squirrel on drugs"). Tried to get enthusiastic about watching episodes from the beginning of the second season of B5 while sewing more, but could not be bothered this time. Will probably go to bed soon.

Wondering when A Certain Someone has a certain ordeal; hoping it goes (went; will go) well despite some misgivings.

Applied for a substitute place in a fantasy game on the weekend when I hoped to go to Foteviken (end of June). Must accept the fact that unable to afford a trip to southern Sweden this summer, especially if going to that game in Estonia in the beginning of July.

Been writing silly things.

Feeling distinctly more courageous about going out of the door. This is good, as meeting Irrette to deliver the costume tomorrow (and hopefully meeting Taika tomorrow or on Friday).

Really, really desperate about not being good enough for anyone.

I wrote some of the following about two weeks ago, but only now managed to gather the rest of the thoughts of that night into one:

It shouldn't be so hard to die
- I can almost reach the sickle -

but the door to Faerie has been reopened
right at the end of my road

It shouldn't be so hard
when this is the perfect time:
to drown in the green and gold
through the milky night;
with the merciful wind of winter's passing
numbing all extremities, all pain,
and the sickle so sharp and clear
through the leaves of illusory depth

And the door so brilliant and warm and
so rich with hope and meaning and struggle

To follow one is not to follow the other
though neither can be reached
the choice must be made right here,
right here

...now is that fair at all?

10 June 03: Headache, Heartache, Who Cares?

Had plans. Slept. Lost plans.

Now I just have a headache, and everything feels completely meaningless still.

I did have the most incredible dreams, though. And then again, not. They were wild and colourful, but also regretful and painful and ...and, well, larger than life in any sense, and that is what makes them so irresistible.

And they were not completely lacking in hope, either - I helped Frodo to survive in that LOTR one long enough for Gandalf to come and save the day; I found the right way in the winter forest after being led deliberately astray in the one where my brother and I were skiing to Jyväskylä; and I got myself out of the sea in the one where I was falling to a wrecked ship at the sea bottom. I showed determination to change those extremely unpleasant states, and they changed. Not too bad, really. I hate very few things as much as the tendency that my dreams have always exhibited to make everything diminish and disappear.

Tomorrow will be very busy with sewing.

I hope to be able to see some people at some time this week, but considering how apathetic I am, I don't know if I can gather up enough energy to get out of the house.

And I'm starting to get panicky about money, again.

08 June 03: Post-post Low

As always, the panic of last night passed with sleep (when it finally arrived). It was probably just the result of too much adrenaline, caffeine and physical exhaustion.

Now I'm just confused and apathetic.

(In the evening) I've been drifting in a slightly surreal haze of irritation and exhaustion all day. Tried to go to sleep hours ago, but managed to develop a headache. Besides, finally got around to reading Lord Of The Flies (no, I never did it at school, and it passed me by at University as well), and had to finish it straightaway, to have it done. Needless to say, I don't agree with Golding's worldview. I see how his arguments certainly have validity, but I don't think society as such could exist if human beings were nothing but beasts ready to revert at any opportunity. And, provably, it does exist, at least for short times, sometimes, at some small parts of the world.

By now, I'm starting to feel glad and grateful about yesterday - for the belief of those who came, and for the work of everyone at home to help me (Lin's support and common sense, Anni's singing and compilation CD's and insistence on good audio, Kalle's endless calm at every single small or big task I needed done, Inka's patience...), and for the wonderful moments of wonder at the game, and for seeing many dear and/or nice people then and after, and for Mikki and Tuomas as perfect in their NPC roles (with rather too little preparation still...). Okay, maybe this was just a snack, as games go, but it seems not to have been completely inedible.

And besides, even though I didn't do it very well, now I can say I've realized an itch and played Marilyn. My career as a live-action gamer can go no further...

Time to move on. There are many projects about which I now feel somewhat more confident. I just wish I could get over this generally unshaky feeling about living as such, and living my life especially. Dammit, I want to be able to feel excited about those projects.

I want to see friends this week. Maybe social interaction is the meaning that is lacking right now. We'll see. Not having a working phone connection is a drag, but I think I can work around it for a while. And there's always email.

07 June 03: Post-game Low

So, it's over, and it was pretty much okay, I suppose. Even Mikki thought it was pretty much okay (he was our doorman, having been in both the previous versions, so naturally his evening was nothing spectacular, but according to him, still pretty much okay).

Now I'm too tired to think, and definitely too tired to be allowed to feel.

Was it worth it? I don't know. Probably not. I want to write characters again. I want Faerun IV.

And I desperately, desperately want A Certain Someone, and yet - again - tried to be honourable. I'm tired of being honourable. Though, of course, I won't change it, since being honourable is only an excuse to avoid acknowledging the fact that I wouldn't stand a chance anyway.

Too tired. Must not think. Must not let the desert lay its claim anew.

Want so badly to be held, or to die. Either choice would suit me just fine right now.

(Later, at 5.30am) Can't sleep. Need to, but can't. Feeling seriously uncomfortable. Need the bloody sleep, to get rid of the pain. Need - the - sleep. This is simply not bearable.

I should imagine that this is somewhat like what tied-up prisoners probably feel. If indeed so, I have nothing but respect for and wonder at people who bear something like this for years and come through sane, or come through at all. I really hope that that comparison does not insult anyone; it's not meant so. This is just... rather terrible.

Why am I trying to explain myself? ...Why am I saying any of this?

I don't know.

Oh, for the record: no, I haven't drunk a thing. If this were an effect of alcohol, it might even pass and let me sleep soon enough. But I still feel somehow strange. Is this a panic reaction, too? I don't know. I don't know. So stupid. So thoroughly silly.

Help...

06 June 03: Pre-game Low

So, Heartbreal Hotel tomorrow. I'm scared and worried that people will not like it, after all... that they'll be bored out of their skulls, or get claustrophobic, or ... well, mainly get bored. At least I tried to warn them on the web page, so they at least know what kind of a mood is in store...

I hope we get everything done in time. It seems at the moment that there will be plenty of time, but I'm not exactly the most reliable judge in these matters.

Should sleep. Should read some material first.

Panic...

04 June 03: Pieces And Puzzles

Was going to get up at nine to see Heli in Ihana aamu, talking about voluntary work... Didn't get any sleep until far into the morning, and so didn't manage to get up at a decent hour at all.

Sold a dress and a skirt today, which was good. Irrette had to move her visit to look through my stuff to tomorrow, which gave me the opportunity to go and visit Mom at Kerava. She is feeling rather down, as Grandma managed to stumble in the stairs, hurt one of her vertebrae, and had to be taken to the hospital and then by ambulance, to her hometown hospital. It should not be too bad once the pain settles, but we can't be sure yet. It could have happened anywhere, but of course Mom, being who she is, feels guilty about persuading Grandma to come and visit at all.

So, had dinner with Mom and Olli, then ended up working on a 1500-piece puzzle and almost finishing it during the evening (only part left is the sky). I love puzzles, but haven't had the opportunity to do them ever since I left home. Olli is passionate about them, and we agreed that I get to borrow some of his.

Driving home, I tried to let my soul get lost in the green of summer, but it kept wandering around and coming back to pester me with uncomfortably sharp shows of emotion. The pain is still there, just as fresh and just as festering as it was a year ago, and two years ago.

My phone was closed again today. Well, at least now I have money to get it reopened, which is sort of necessary for the weekend and the game.

I hope it will go okay...

I registered at koulukaverit.com yesterday, but I didn't find any of the people I was looking for.

02 June 03: Hesitantly Holding

Feeling a bit better, after being forced to work on next weekend's game. Starting to get the tiniest bit excited about it, actually. No, it's not an earthshattering novelty; no, we did not get as many players as we expected (maybe the entrance requirements were a bit strict, but for this concept, they have to be... and besides, we've been willing to flex them a bit if need be); but still, I think it's going to be okay.

Still means an awful lot of cleaning to do beforehand...

I really, really want to get to ballet lessons again.

(Later) Looked through some old character descriptions and re-encountered this fragment from Eeva-Liisa Manner, one of the goddesses:

...Et tavoita koskaan kaikua, joka pidättää.
Minuutit sulkeutuvat
hänen käsissään, tulevat esineiksi;
kylmänä kuin aika
hän pudottaa ne: kylät, vuoret ja kaiut.

Kuljet edelleen,
ja yhä haavoitut
kiviin, jotka jäivät taakse.

Perhaps should finally switch to Finnish, after all. Do not think any other language can express regret, sadness and unbearable, unshakable longing quite as well.

01 June 03: Slipping Through My Fingers

June. Summer. Time. Too little of it, always too little. And too much.

Summer hurts. Time hurts. Memory hurts. Why do I need any of them?

Sauna and Robin of Sherwood with Lin, Lora and Beast. Not much else. Too many thoughts, too little action.

Can't continue like this during the week. Must sew a lot and do loads and loads of cleaning and scenery for Heartbreak Hotel. Some exercise wouldn't hurt either. And Mom called and said she managed to persuade Grandma to visit with her as they drove there for the weekend, so I suppose I must go and see them both as soon as possible. We'll see how far my energy goes towards all this.

Besides, I want and need to write. A lot.

I got the SuoLi fantasy props and my furs back. Thanks go to whomever it was that brought them - I still don't know, and Anni and Inka, who might be able to tell, aren't coming home until tomorrow.

And now, after all the surface chatter has been skimmed off, let's get to what is actually going through my mind. The wet, ugly, stinking dregs. The two thoughts that have been bothering me most today are: "It's exactly a year since the wonderful day when we ran that faerie game on order for that hen night party," and: "At least now I know where all the people I tried to reach last night were."

Is the bottom of everybody's soul this pitiful?

Liisa's holiday orders for me were to spend more time with people who make me feel complete and comfortable, and less time with people who make me feel unhappy and incomplete. I haven't yet thought of how difficult this will in effect be.