9 posts tagged “emotions”

A silly day and a silly month it has been! A retrospective of the whole of November would be a little beyond me though, so I think it more a matter of a few colourful illustrations from the recent days.

Today's History test didn't go well at all, at least in terms of numerical value. No, I am pretty certain, as opposed to the usual worrying. But when you're faced with a test that's ridiculously beyond what you thought it would be, the situation becomes incredibly funny and wild and a tad psychotic, so some of my worst tests have been met with a crazy laugh. I'm not at all the person to write anything witty in them, but today I was just in the mood for answering that the leader of the Bolsheviks in Russia was 'Comrade Lenin, until he popped his clogs and everyone's favourite Yosif Stalin became the man'. Not overly funny now, although that moment it seemed quite appropriate.

After school we tried our luck at getting theatre tickets for 12 December. Naturally none were left. A big, big disappointment, seeing I was determined to see the play Juliet before the year ended. And now, besides the twelfth, it won't be played until next year. I can't even tell why the obsession with this year, this December, but whenever I imagine seeing the play in January, it feels another world. This year ending soon, it going into oblivion and past and all the shades of 'was' is horribly freeing, while the beginning of a new one seems to require so much of me, with everything being ahead, needing attention and care. It's just like with days - the evenings are heaven and the mornings are grey oceans of sleepiness and possible dread.

Speaking of theatre, we also saw The Seagull yesterday. In the least, I was freed of fears that NO99, a theatre built around the brilliant idea of numbering their productions until they reached NO1, was an 'artsy' and 'modern' sort of thing. I'm phobic like that. Now I can't wait to see more. But the play was unusual, partly because I've never been as close to the actors, close enough to see the tiny droplets of sweat on their faces and notice the patches of blush, partly because the way I look at them is a little different now, partly because it was again one of those cases where in the end, I did not understand. True, I could think and deduce, but I didn't empathise with the heroine and her troubles, although I wanted and still want to very much. It's highly disturbing when leaving a play you perceive is thought-provoking and monumental, you cannot really relate or fully understand and be struck by it.

It was probably the thing on my mind as we did a round on the city centre, admiring the brilliant blue Christmas lights. It's been funny weather here lately, with no snow whatsoever, pretty green grass and terrible, terrible wind. If not the wind and the cold, I could remain sitting on a bench somewhere high in the Old Town, speaking of love and life and illusions and feeling that if there only was a profession involving all of those, there would be no difficulty with deciding upon a career. From a platform, I saw a falling meteorite today, I swear. It was like a falling star but bigger. I thought of Stardust immediately.

From yesterday's music lesson, I had two remnants. The fist was a strong desire be in the Grand Opera of Paris, in midst of all the lights, the gold and the whirl of drama, just like in The Phantom of the Opera. I still have this opera-mood. And when I was returning home today, a melody from the Intermezzo of Mascagni's Cavalleria Rusticana rang and rang in my mind. I have almost forgotten it by now.

Then I realised that I wanted a violin for Christmas.

Fanfares and a drumroll, please! Today is the glorious day that the great George W Bush visited our tiny, but significant country. Oh the honour! Preparations have lasted for weeks, hype escalating and finally spilling over the metaphorical brim of the press. Statements upon statements have been made, protests held and declarations of eternal friendship and fraternity uttered.

Apparently, if the occasion is huge enough, you can turn off a city. True, they only disabled most methods of transportation in the heart of the city and didn't close all of the establishments in the area. I reckon though that if one day there will be a huge interplanetar world resembling your average sci-fi film and if the most important person of the Solar system would be visiting, you could just as well switch the power off and treat them to an extinct city. Due to the importance of the event, I could even have skipped school with a parent's notice today. You can't really force kids to be at school while such a guest is about, can you? It's much better to mobilise them all, arm them with American flags and send them out onto the front of professing the country's undying love for the President.

I must say there was contemplation of pulling off a glorious assassination, but skipping History before a test is a little unwise.

On a different note, there's a new discovery, or rather a realisation, by me. You know how sometimes you're trying to catch the look of someone who's important to you and then all of a sudden, there it is, right in your face? Well, the sensation it triggers was yesterday's object of study. Everyone knows the sharp intake of breath and the quick rise in the pace of heartbeats. But really, it's the feeling of 'thud!'. Just that - thud! It's like the moment Bilbo drops the One Ring on the floor of his home and it lands with endless gravity as if it weighed the word. The sound of something incredibly heavy being slammed into a wall of marble is the very feeling. And there's no motion after it, no rebounding or response, it's finite.

Ei ole paremaid, halvemaid aegu.
On ainult hetk, milles viibime praegu.
Mis kord on alanud, lõppu sel pole.
Kestma jääb kaunis, kestma jääb kole.

Ei ole süngeid, ei naljakaid aegu.
Võrdsed on hetked, kõik nad on praegu.
Elul on tung kanda edasi elu,
jällegi Kronos et saaks mõne lelu.
 
Ei ole möödund või tulevaid aegu.
On ainult nüüd ja on ainult praegu.
Säilib, mis sattunud hetkede sattu.
Ainuski silmapilk teisest ei kattu.

Ei ole mõttetult elatud aegu.
Mõte ei pruugigi selguda praegu.
Vähemat, rohkemat olla ei võinuks.
Parajal määral saab elu meilt lõivuks.

Ei ole kaduvaid, kõduvaid aegu.
Alles jääb hetk, milles asume praegu.
Aeg, mis on tekkinud, enam ei haju,
kui seda jäävust ka meeled ei taju.

Artur Alliksaar

It's always a pity leaving St. Petersburg but this time it was a whole degree more difficult than usual. The possible reasons are varying and numerous and could be anything from the fact that there was much less slothing during the week or that things went rather well on a comparative scale. The one reason I like most though, is that winter really brings out what the city is about and then there's no forgetting.

It started snowing while I was on the Russian border. It was last Saturday, about midnight. Not quite the same as getting up in the morning and seeing all white, but still. Matters little that the snow probably melted in a few hours; there was still plenty new to come. St. Petersburg is a city of sleet and mud when it's winter. And of deadly iced streets. But also of lights, millions, millions of them! Most of the evenings I was on Nevsky, the central street of the city, in the swirl of darkness and glowing glitter, of masses of people (there's something pathological in the chronic chopper of a crowd pushed into the waggons of the local subway), in coffee shops with low ceilings, with high ceilings, hazy with smoke or clear as day. During the less-than-a-week I managed to do more for a friendship that's lasted for nine years than during the one and a half months of summer. Imagine the joy of arriving home, away in the metasuburbs, taking off the wet boots, changing socks, washing hands, drinking tea, watching the telly and falling asleep with the shadows emitting from colossal windows of an old house dancing on the walls.

I wish I was more of a genius in describing it all. If I say that there - everything's smaller, closer, dearer, that the concentration of 'world' and 'real' is higher there, it would hardly be a good way to put it? Or not?
 

It reminds me of what my mother once told me about the existence of elves, santa-clauses, mermaids and the rest. A big part of my childhood I believed in gnomes who come before Christmas and bring little treats. I suppose I wasn't naively fanatic but nor was I doubtful. Ideas of not trusting my parents on the matter weren't very appealing, in any case. Later, of course, I had to come to the conclusion that the sweets came from my mother and it raised questions. Why had she been so certain in telling me they all existed? She said that there might not be fairies and mermaids per se, but they weren't meant to be physical objects anyway. Someone saw a beautiful lake, serene and untouched, lit up by moonlight and singing with the rhythm of its waves, she said, and it was an overwhelming emotion, a whole one, and taking it apart would only spoil it, so the person would describe the marvellous experience as having seen a mermaid. The explanation was quite enough.

During the bus ride back to Tallinn, I saw Piter FM, a Russian film, a Saint-Petersburgian film. I hadn't expected much of an experience to arise from it, what with the absence of the darkness, silence and privacy of a cinema, and the screen being positioned right above my head. But what I did see from the curious angle was so unusual and wonderful and so in tune! I guess the story was about people and places, coincidences and decisions and love, but I'm trying hard to think what it was that actually mattered. I'm doubtful that it was the story.

As for love, I'm waiting for it.

Everyone knows deja vu, right? It's one of those very special moments. It appears that besides feeling what you're doing just now has already happened, you can suddenly get a miraculous flashback from your past, vivid enough to make you want to jump right in the middle of a parking lot at 8 a.m. It's more or less what happened to me today. It's not quite a novelty to me, but every time is different and my last experience took place a while ago. I've noticed that these things are often triggered by either special sights, sounds or even the more - smells. This morning I was innocently walking towards school, when a car rolled past me and brought with it the most divine aroma of... well, CAR! It's the mixed scent of aromatic leather and the tangling christmas-tree-shaped air fresheners and trips. The memories that came with it were like running headfirst into a cliff. Imagine a whole bucketful of different emotional 'imprints' all tossed at you the same moment. Imagine trying to hold them. That's like holding a bloody elephant! A struggling elephant at that, because as soon as the moment passes, it's all rushing away and you're trying to catch as many as you can, but you know that with a single stick of glue and a pair of hands, it's a bit of a hopeless thing.

Nevertheless, it's a reason which never lets me forget the importance of smell. When you're in love (which is not the case right now, mind you), a whiff of the right perfume can nail you to your bus seat, staring at the person if front of you, trying to discern if it's HE and desperately fighting against the faint and intoxicating haze. Mighty!

...

Never let yourself be misled, though, I can still do mediocrity. For example, surely I've told you about time and how ridiculously fleeing it is? It's darned amazing! Things that seem to have taken place no more than a few days ago, the calendar tells me, date a fortnight back. When the week's past Tuesday, it's over. Caput. Finito. Lõppenud. It's like a sprint - the first two sevenths are somewhat killing, but the rest is crossed on pure momentum. Besides, it's all in your head! People've been telling me that the eleventh grade is the easiest and imagine that - it is! While everyone else says they've never had so much to do, I go to bed at eleven o'clock, study something challenging once a week (even though I don't exactly adore my marks right now) and feel as if everything's alright, even though I've indeed never been as busy.

It can't stay like that, can it? Perhaps I'm just delusional? Maybe I've postponed everything for eternity and will soon learn my lesson? Surely I'll soon be cursing my own words and regretting, but it's one of the most delightful paradoxes I've encountered.