between endless spaces

What about all that space? All that space between all things.
What about the space between thoughts, between ideas? What about the space between me and my expectations? The space between who I am and who I think I am. Between the horizon and the reality…
That space between all things might be the most important part of everything actually. Or it might be nothing. Or both.
Spaces between these typed words. The space between those spaces. The space in the space. The people to whom some refer as “a bit space”. The space between quarks, between molecules, between stars, between life and death, between my two ears, between us…
So what about it? And is there a space between me and the fact of not knowing the answer? And if there is then what is it? Where does it come from? What is it created by? What does it consist of? Is it changing? What is it going to become? Is it as insignificantly tiny as I am or as endlessly immense as the fact of not knowing? And which are the units to measure it anyway? The same as the ones that allow measuring the space between my feet and the socks I’m wearing? Or maybe the ones that acknowledge that at night it is colder than outside (la nuit il fait plus froid que déhors)? Or it might be the ones that were used for making sure that 90% of our brain stays dusty and unemployed?And what about the space between the things that are different and the things making them that way? What about the space between the difference and the making? And does that make any difference? Does it make any sense? Does it have to make anything at all? Maybe it just makes more spaces… Here: a space between any difference and my indifference.

Golden Julian & Dig Up Elvis

watch out for the wet floor!

you don't want your fingers getting money-sticky while the car crash still stays helplessly watching the green cactus at the edge of the window sill silly rain keeps falling softly on the other side of the face and while we sing words whispering out of nowhere the light is lit still glittering down the hall i don't live here any more he says but she's not the girl who misses much of a silence while fingers tapping on beautifully full linen cat astrophying that good old word out of nowhere again i was here

reporting from Tartu

minu blogi on viimasel ajal korduvalt häkitud niiet ma ei tea kui kaua ma teda veel pidada saan. aga noh...

Estonian cultural shock did not come. Maybe just the shock of finding everything as it's always been (or almost). But Christmas in Paris was quite great: I spent my time going through gallerys, museums and walking the city streets. Reminded me of how great Paris really is and made me dream about living there for a while (the guys are better looking there;)...

And New Year came in Tartu. That's where I am at the moment because Maiu's appartment is cooler than my mom's and there is Zavood where you can get three beers with the price of two. Woo-hoo! So it's sleeping till late, Mimattitudes searching at day time and drinks in the evening. Tonight we're drinking our good old famous cocktail called "Dijon à l'Estonie"...

Really exciting. Yours up.