glad we are here

I doubt that good poetry can be born out of big feelings. Big feelings are surprisingly shallow when it comes to anything not directly involved with the subject of desire (and there is always an subject of desire). Aren't you just happy when you are "really" happy? And isn't that just boring?
There's that difference as between 3:07am full of mysteries and sleepless 8 o'clock in the morning before another working day; or in drinking until you feel more than just yourself and drinking until you lose who you are at all.
Any food is so much better when it is serving its primary purpose - satisfying hunger, but in order to feel that pleasure you need to first of all come to that state of hunger, which is not that easy considering the amount of stress put on us by the abundance of unnecessary snack-shaped hunger prevention methods (simulations, haunting our right for pleasure we take in not dying (=eating), vulgarizing the very essence of it). Come on. Happiness is the same, it's a big race you feel like you need to win, but small superficial simulations just spoil the real pleasure that is hidden in the very impossibility of the victory.

Don't worry, be happy - kind-of-crap, another useless thing to write on a T-shirt to sell another fairly-well-off-nicely-aged-suicidal-urban-dweller before he hangs himself up in the toilet of a parking lot. Nah, mon cher ami, worry and rejoice, you are living in this world - not in a cereal commercial.

But anyway, I'd rather be happy and do bad poetry, but what I am doing right now is being strangely unhappy and doing no poetry at all. I guess this is how most of us choose to live, such a waste of oxygen.

Niagara triangle

 

Well, this is me.

Paris, tigers and tails

 

Although only the lazy doesn't bloom these days, birds are screaming every morning like it's the last one,

it still feels like a long, long winter. So many things happened and so many things are not going to happen, it's a bit overwhelming, but that's alright.

As some of you my friends may know, I've been to France recently. You see how far can I go to run away from obligations? Apparently, until about Paris. Not bad, huh?

Saw some incredibly great places and took a lot of cute pictures there.

 There is not much I can say about Paris, apart from "shiiiit maaan whaat" and "holy crap", but that's neither appropriate nor informative, so I'll just pass. I'm usually not the one freaking out about architecture (plants and underground are more of my thing), but I guess some places just don't consult with anything before dominating your mind as you encounter them.

Ah, the good times. I love trees so much, and now they are killing me. How is that even fair? 

No one said life would be though.

Gentle people! Let's go out with flowers in our hair for a reasonably-priced drink, anyone up to such a deal? No? You can come without any flowers then, whatever. (where's your spirit?)

Here, a song.

And a picture from me. 

I posted the second background layer a while back - it's a collage I made with the help of inherited from my brilliant grandfather postcards from 80s, zodiac-themed jewel of soviet union design (never disappointing if your goal is to be creepy)

Turned quite infernal when in b/w!

 

I can do more of these though, if you think it looks good? Not sure, because I'm just kind of blinded with all these feelings towards all these horses and tigers. Damn, I'm really into this stuff.

Presenting you this babe and vanishing.

Lots of love to you all!
Stay healthy and kind.