Mushrooms

They are hiding Yellow leaves Brown leaves Green moss Grey mud You do not see Slow down Squat Kneel down Check your feet There-there already squished some say hi! Then you see no Yellow leaves Brown leaves Green moss Grey mud Only them Everywhere Anywhere Autumn Craterellus tubaeformis Craterellus tubaeformis

Ants

Springtime

Allotment garden needs attention

Dandelions

Yellow blooms cover the grass

Sunshine

It has not rained for two weeks

Bumblebees

Need more flowers in my garden

For butterflies

I miss ladybugs 

Restaurant for insects is poorly equipped

Snails might take over

Aphids might take over

Ant-colony already nests in my chest

tired

it makes me shake
it makse me cranky
it makes me shout
and overreact


tired


i will not name it
i hide it
i pretend it is not there
i have noone to tell


tired


i make faces
fake it till you make it
i tell miself
and smile

Something bad is going to happen

Do not you feel it? I have this feeling all the time. For some weeks now. Maybe even longer. It is January and new year should always light a spark. New page. New opportunities. Yes, I also plan to go down in weight. Train more. Be more active. Love my body. Create good and meaningful contacts with people. In few moths I should find a new job as my project is finishing now. Do something meaningful with my life. Be happy(er) ...

But it just feels like that nothing matters. Something really bad is going to happen soon and then all my efforts are just waisted. I could just as well vegetate around and do nothing. No inspiration. No hope that the things I do or would do matter. They do not. Depressing. 

It does seem that during the last few years, many bad things have already happen. One might think that from now on it can only get better. I do not have this feeling. I do not think it. I just think there are only worse things coming. To the world. To the countries. To people who cannot make sense of right or wrong, truth or false. It is all so messy and gets even worse. I am sad and I hate this feeling. 

I have no money

I have no money 
But I still bought Christmas presents to my kids
I have no money 
But I had a gourmé-dinner at Thai restaurant
I have no money
and I made sure my husband pays our electricity bill
I have no money
But I waisted some random stuff that attracted me online
I have no money
But I still sent my monthly savings to Ukrainian Army
I have no money
But I send many smaller amounts to surprise my own an my kids teachers with flowers for Christmas 
I have no money 
But I buy gasoline every week in order to take myself around
I have no money 
because money does not belong to me
It is something that I borrow 
from the people who have even less 
Who do not have access to the amounts I have access to
and I have their trust 
that I spend it in a reasonable way
Considering themselves, our earth and climate...
Do I?

Money is never MINE. It belongs to the POOR.

Dear Mr Putin

I have known you for more than 20 years.
I remember when on a school trip to St Petersburg in 2000
We talked about you as Bloody Putin
People knew already then you are not afraid
To let some blood to flow, a lot of blood.
Anyone's blood 

I have to admit
I have secretly admired you
For your bullshit
For being able to bullshit so much
To use people as your puppets
Both is Russia and in the West
What a clever manipulator!
Make people bow and show their respect
Be it real or out of fear
Or just because they are genuinely polite
and do not recognize any other

But politeness is clearly weakness
Genuinity is to be used and manipulated with
Clearly, for you…

Now, looking at your speeches...
Your long tables…
Your poorly photoshopped videos…
One might feel sorry for you…
You might just need some contact
Konni is not around anymore… but google says you have other doggies
Or you need genuine human contact…
A hug.
No-no-no… genuinity is weakness…

You have a hazy look.
Your eyesight do not look so sharp anymore.
As it was years ago.
It reminds or the one Mr Brezjnev had
In the end, before he died, when he hardly could
Read out a full sentence, super slowly…

I think you are the prisoner of your own manipulations.
As all the old Soviet leaders were.
Nobody tells you the truth anymore
You have started to believe your own bullshit
That is what your eyes tell me.
Ukrainians need to be protected from their own democratic leaders – my ass!
Your eyes have lost their sharpness
You do not manipulate anymore
You believe it
Nobody tells YOU the truth anymore
You have succeeded
An advanced chapter in Orwell’s stories.
Nothing sympathetic left there
Hugs would just be waisted

So,
I hope the rats will eat you alive
I wish an umbrella will open in your stomach
Just jump from the Kremlin’s tower together with your family and “friends”
(but leave the dogs)
I hope you could give birth to a hedgehog
And while you do it – a bomb would blast in your ward
I wish you had a pancreatic cancer
Just pour hot tar over your head
I hope million mosquitos would bite you
And you would slowly bleed to death
I wish you borrowed Navalny’s underwear
Just put a gun on your mouth and shoot
I hope omicron would still come around to "hug" you
I wish you all the best!

Naistepäeval mõtlen armastusest.

Naistepäeval mõtlen armastusest. 

Kas armastus on naiselik?
Armastus on hellus ja hoolivus?
Samas, mehedki ju armastavad. Tean. Näinud.
Nagu yin jag yang – igaühes leidub mõlemat poolt.

Sõja ajal on teistmoodi armastada,
öelda: ”Ma armastan sind”
See tundub olulisem

See loob lootust

Armastus on ühtekuuluvustunne, 

Armastus on empaatia.

 
Öelda nii oma mehele, kes stressist kookus,
kuigi turvaliselt kodus ja tööl ja ühiskonnas
oma arvamust avaldamas ja
oma teadmisi jagamas ja
abiplaane välja haudumas.

Öelda nii oma lastele, kes hommikuti ei taha ärgata.
Ja iga rõõmsama sõnumi peale pettuvad,
et see sõnum polnud: ”Sõda on läbi”.

Söögilauale unustatud mustad sokid ei ärrita enam
sama moodi.
Lauamänge võin mängida,

raamatut ette lugeda
lõputult. Väsimata. 
Pahurdamise peale ei ärritu,
sest rahulikuks jääda on lihtsam.
Ärrituda tundub mõttetu
nende triviaalsete asjade peale.

Ärritus on üldse kuhugi tunnetevaka põhja ära kadunud. 

Ei mäletagi enam, mis see oli..

Sest on armastus.

Ja olulisim: armastus on mõtetes
Paljudes mõtetes. 

Kõigis mõtetes
Igas mõttes
Sugulastele
Sõpradele
Sõjasangaritele

Tahtmatult sõtta sattunuile  

Lastele, kes põgenevad kodust,
hea kui ema, vanaemagi kaasa saavad

Vanuritele, kelle kauaaegsed kodud lagunevad...

Nimekiri on pikk.

Ja isegi sellele kurjusehällile mõeldes

saates temalegi armastust,

Kuigi ega loota pole, et ta endas naiselikkust leiaks,

naiste päeval või mõnel muulgi päeval,

armastust leiaks.

Armastusele armastusega vastaks..  

Selline lootus on naiivne. 

Aga 

Ikkagi 

mõtetes saadan armastust

Sest sõja ajal on teistmoodi armastada. 

Armastus loob lootust.