vaivata

Juha ja Kalevi...

Tue, 27 Nov 2007 23:21:18 GMT

So i have been infirmed that i will be meeting, if i want to, my two older brothers. They are my full blood brothers , that i have not seen in 15 and a half years. My mother died when i was two and a half on 19 Jan 1992, and a week later was the last time i would see my brothers. They are my full blood siblings, and they don't even now i have, WE have, two small half-siblings. How to tell them? What to tell them? I barely know them.
If i am correct, my eldest brother, Juha is 22 and Kalevi is 19. I am due to see them on 6 December, which incidently enough, is Finnish Independance Day. I personally find that ironic.
What am i supposed to do with them? It seems strange that they met each other five years ago, according to my sources. They have not met our father, nor do they know that he is married and that they know have another little sister and brother. You know, for a Finnish family, we are rather large, through extensions. My sister, Pirkko just turned three, and my brother, Iisakki is eight almost nine months. They have never met our brothers, but i have known them since they were born. Am i more lucky? I had to track my father down, he was'nt looking for me, so why are my brothers? Why have they not tracked down our father, like i have?
My brothers were, like i, adopted and have obviously, we have grown our seperate ways. All i remember are tiny memories, of which the largest being, Kalevi feeding me chocolate ice cream when i was two, and me getting it all over my face and clothes, and my brother brother Juha dancing with our black cat to Sibelius and Topi Sorsakoski. My mother loved those muscians, and the music was always blasting from our house.
After all these years without them, i have grown to ignore th fact that they exist. Not negatively, but just because i coul not find them and i was losing hope, so i gave up to the conclusion that my life was fine without them and i did'nt need to bother them, or have a screwed up family reunion. Too many bad memories. We left as children and now are adults. All i see when i think of them are two crazy little boys just six and three and a half.
Wehn someone asks me about my family i tell them my mother is gone and i have a father, stepmother and two little half siblings. I say nothing of my brothers, because in my mind , they are barely even there, and only when i think hard on it, do i remember that they are there, and now all that will change on 6 December.
My father, to whihc i have told, is unsure as to what he should do, and hell i can barely figure out what i should do. I have a feeling i f i go through with it, i will have to tell my entire life history, which is somehting i am trying to forget, let alone bring back up and introduce our small siblings, ans vise versa. How do you tell a three year old, who thinks she has four "brothers" (my best friends) that now she has two more? 6 December is just around the corner...

Odd.....

Wed, 21 Nov 2007 16:55:17 GMT

You know i am me, i am Hillevi S.J.K.A-S.P.Panula-Heinonen, myself and no one else. I live a lot of music and like a lot of musicians, but i am myself still. It seems that i have found a whole lot of people posing as someone else. I wonder why? What is the point? It is just over obsessed obsession? Do you know who you really are in life? It is kinda screwed up. Think in real life, if you were to meet the very people you pretend to be, what do you think their reaction would be? Many of our favourite musician, and such tell us to be ourselves, but if we are so obsessed that we dress and act like out obsession thaen we would probably scare the living shit out of them and they would have security haul us away. I don't know why so many people on here are obsessed with being someone else. Why not just be yourself and if you don't like yourself, find away around it.

Life Again, With Ramblings

Mon, 19 Nov 2007 16:20:55 GMT

What is to leave a name behind? What does that name mean? Where does it go? What is the point of knowing?

To live for a point, to make history, to be known. For who? For what? What is the greatest mystery of our being here? A life is a constant question.

We die in vain, each time. To keep a memory, and a name alive, for who, and why?

A man, Antti, dies. His daughter Taina keeps his ashes. She passes them on to the granddaughter, Antti never met. What is this granddaughter supposed to feel? In her hands she carries the urn that is her grandfather. A grandfather she never met. A grandfather she does'nt know. Her mother is dead, so why should she care to have her grandfather's urn?

We leave behind a short trail of those who knew us and those who care. To those to whom our lives meant something. Our memory is not immortalized, but harboured, for some time in to a few beings, and when those few beings die, themselves, the memories are destroyed, such is the person. A name, a face, a life is forgotten, and never remembered as the person they were.

Genealogy gives us a name, graves give us confirmation of existance. But what is the confimation? Where is the confimation of every person ever i existant? Those people who meant something to some one else. Like lovers. We do not know them, therefore our lives are in vain, as they cease not only in life but in history, forever. We can make music, art, political history, but for whom are we really remember for? When the world is no more and no one is born, where does those historical achievements go? Do they, for some, pave a cleared way in to Heaven? Or clear a path to righteousness? Not all believe in such ideas.

It seems all the little things matter very little, in the bigger picture, but the bigger picture is for ourselves to create. As cheesy as it soulds, we are given one life, and we do what ever we want, but you really have to wonder if living in all the conforming, if we truely take advantage, and live our life for ourselves.

So many people are beaten down by others words, and therefore do no get to live. Some would say it is too hard to go on, that they would feel more comfortable to sleep away in their room, in a depressant non-existant lifestyle. It is unfair. Some would say, 'well don't give a care for what others think because this is our life', and everyone has their own lifes. But are we not constantly trying to find a place to belong? Trying to find a like in others? In a form we do all conform, and there for, we harbor the fear, and forget to take advantage, and live out life as our own. But what is life? A living cell, is all we are. Any way you play it out, we're screwed in to life.

Ramblings of the Tired Mind.

Sat, 17 Nov 2007 21:20:11 GMT

Just some thoughts i had last night, while trying to fall asllep. It did'nt work to well, so i wrote some shit out, and this is some of it.
You see, I have to take heavy pills to sleep at night. I don't like it, but it must be done. My mind plays tricks on my sleeping pattern. I must have a very screw up pattern. One night i can sleep for three hours and be fine the next morning, or a seperate night i can get seven and be drained. I have even come to realise, i turn my alarm off, in a sleep-like state, unknowingly, until i later awake. I try to catch myself at it, but it is seemingly impossible.

I take pills to sleep, which i don't like. The normal counter pills hold nothing but nightmares and hyper activeness. I find myself giddy even, and wide awake. It seems i have what is refered to as the elderly-effect. That is to say i have the opposite effects of sleeping pills, which is commonly found in the elderly. This causes me to be more awake, hyper and giddy, but also causes me to crash harder. It can be a second of happiness and giddyness, followed by suicidal ideation. I think the crashing has more to do with my dysthymia as opposed to the pills. After a while i had so many variants perscribed, i decided to just do what ever it took. A few pills washed down with a few alcoholic dinrks, put me in a more calm, desired state. A relaxed possesion overtook my mind, and i was in a state of immunity. A state in which i could care less, but i was sure i was fine. These ceased to work to my desire what with mornings serving as war on me, and the effects lasting far too long. I had to come up with a new idea. Understand, though. I am just a simple girl, trying to get some goddamn needed sleep. It is not suicidal, depressive-i-hate-myself-and-wanna-die actions. No, those are a whole new world that lives inside us all at some point.

I happened upon a correct mixture of pills, through an accident a few weeks ago. I was given pain killers, which caused slight drowsiness. Thus, within a few days after i had recieved yet another type of pill that was a very nice rerlaxing and very strong muscle and skeletal relaxant, which doubled as a sleeping pill. It was not strong enough to put me to sleep, but it gave my system what all of the above, did not. It gave me a sort of lack of anything, and utter relaxation. Kinda like doing a very good session of yoga. This combination of effects were enough to place me in a deep sleep, and caused me to wake in a better atmosphere, at least in my own little world, the pills had a positive effect on my sleeping pattern. Alas, a cure!

I do not take them every night, as i do not want to be addicted or have to rely on them. It has many negative effects, which does cause my sleep pattern to once again, get screwed up. I have come to accept this screwed up sleep pattern, but i can not say how much it sucks! All i want is to lay in my bed and sleep, not be in motion of thoughts.
Oh, the odd things that make us think and cause us to speak!

What is to leave a name behind? What does that name mean? Where does it go? What is the point of knowing?

To live for a point, to make history, to be known. For who? For what? What is the greatest mystery of our being here? A life is a constant question.

We die in vain, each time. To keep a memory, and a name alive, for who, and why?

So many people are beaten down by others words, and therefore do no get to live. Some would say it is too hard to go on, that they would feel more comfortable to sleep away in their room, in a depressant non-existant lifestyle. It is unfair. Some would say, 'well don't give a care for what others think because this is our life', and everyone has their own lifes. But are we not constantly trying to find a place to belong? Trying to find a like in others? In a form we do all conform, and there for, we harbour the fear, and forget to take advantage, and live out life as our own. But what is life? A living cell, is all we are. Any way you play it out, we're screwed in to life.

Jokela Massacre

Fri, 16 Nov 2007 00:19:46 GMT

So it has been eight long, sad and tiring days since the lifes of every Finn, and many others were changed. Jokela High School will never be the same.
One man, a boy really, Pekka-Eric Auvinen took it in to his own hands to change the world, and leve as many as possible, dead. He had a set game plan, which unfortuneatly, was a very well developed plan.
I was at home, i had gotten up early to feed my young cat Hannu. I turned the tv on,t o the news channel, and before i could register what was happening, my phone rang. It was my dear friend Tuukka informing me of what was taking place at Jokela. I was stunned. I did'nt believe him at first, so i checked the news, watched it, and it hit me, that something terrible was indeed happening at Jokela High. This hit me personally. My young fifteen-year-old cousin, Lahja, was at Jokela in the tenth grade. Seeing as i did not live that far away, i got in my car and drove to Tuusula, as close to the school as possible. I was met with my aunt's car, to which i almost crashed in to, at a nearby church. She had just arrived herself.
It took us a while to be assured that Lahja was safe and at another church with the rest of the students.
For days i went back, and for days i stared, stunned. It hit me days after, that this really did happen, and that nine people were really dead. I had followed the reports all over various news papers/channels for days, but it was so difficult to take in.
To think that five young teenage boys died along with three women, and the shooter, is hard to put in to words.
Pekka-Eric may have though that be turned Finland upside down tih his Hiterlite ways, but this tragedy has brought us to re-evaluate our curretn lifestyles and the way our choices affect others. Pekka-Eric never had to do this, but he did, and in facing such a tragedy which has changed Finland forever, we Finns will trudge on.
This tragedy will never be forgotten, whether it be remember with the black armbands with 'Jokela' written on them that my friends and i have placed upon our jacket sleves, or the constant reminder of our loss.
We Finns will trudge on!
SISU!

Rest In Peace Fallen Finns.

The Beginning

Thu, 15 Nov 2007 19:23:05 GMT

In the beginning, God made Aatami, and ---cut the bullshit. I had to take off to keep my friends, Eero-Pekka and Juhani from beating the hell out ot each other, over some liquor, and so now i am back to make my first posting. What to say...what to say?
How about i tell you of the day that is today in my life? I woke up late, took a drink a shot of vodka to get some energy, kissed my cat Hannu, an left to go to the store. Now, a few hours later, i am in my home, drinking some coffee with my friends. They are watching a movie about a band they like, save for Tuukka who is behind me, making the dough fpr piirakka. He is a good cook, and he does try hard. I am not sure what kind of mood i am in, i am a little bored, and a little , hard to think of the right words *looks around for inspiration*, maybe too thoughtful, like i can feel some lyrics coming on, and that i know i have to run around in a short while. I am having some vocals issues that i think i should fix. Mostly like they are not quite working up to my comfort levels. You, see, i sing, and i write lyrics to sing about, but i won't get in to that at the present time, or else i shall be here all night talking, which i am sure would do no better on my vocals.
Tuukka just through a piece of dough at me, and it hit my hair. He smirks. He knows i am gonna get him back. And well, i must go now, and dump that bag of flour over his head, as well as make a nice refreshing cup of coffee.