A quiet person who is partly invisible partly an impenetrable a forbidden place (has to be shaken, has to be something wrong with that person, so strange almost scary), uninteresting likely to be forgotten, impossible to invade

5 huhtikuun, 20156 maaliskuun, 2018 | Henna Timanttimetsä

That person who exists for some reason but why? Why is she like that, nobody asked. She is clearly different: how to pull something out of that mouth? How to torment that mind so it starts to do and process something we understand and enjoy? That person who does not say anything, cannot, has not got anything interesting to say, say those who define what is interesting, who talk constantly themselves, about themselves. To find out and understand, what and what then? Decide whether to like or not, whether to let belong or not? Accepting is difficult, to think one’s head is not the only head there is, that we are not one consciousness, one right kind of form nor shape.

What is sick where illness does not show? What is wrong there where nothing is wrong? What is there where it is not accepted to be what I feel?

For many reasons. First I thought I have nothing inside of me. I felt terrible all the time. I tried to smile. It felt phony. I refused to believe I was nothing although the messages I have been given all my life were exactly that and I just didn’t understand why. It was no wonder I felt so awful and empty and eventually found out I had been depressed for a very long time. That was me some time ago.

Quiet is something puzzling to me for this reason, a very personal reason, an ongoing accusation which is against the quiet that I have felt is interesting because it is so belittling. Quiet is someone not participating, someone with a flaw or lack, something is wrong, something is missing when we are quiet, in all quiet, in silence like there is and was nothing there to say, but there is a demand to constant talk.
For various reasons quiet is interesting, for our need to hide away and step over, deny quiet existence as pathetic and ridiculous. How we build on noise, expect noise and sound to have all the meaning we need and have, noise that equals content and something is given into the world with sound, with words, with talk that never stops.

A world where there is no room for originality.

29 maaliskuun, 201528 helmikuun, 2018 | Henna Timanttimetsä

Are we heading towards the kind of world in which originality is scarce or is it happening right now? A world where being something unique is banned and tormented to death, because it does not sell, it is not interesting to the mass of consuming people, because unique is frightening, unique and originality are a threat to somebody in power and their intact expensive spaces which manifest power status. Symptoms are there as they have been forever and ever; it is a risk to be exactly who you want to be, express your views, look the way you do, believe in what you want. We live in such a world where the unknown is scary and possible invader of thoughts. To change the world consumed by ideologies like fascism, sexism, racism and anti-Semitism is a battle that we must fight tirelessly.

Conspiracy theory

Hatefully consumed minds are set to be suspicious of anything strange, towards new ideas and anything jeopardizing the current state of things. We are to live in fear. We are under constant threat, future looks random, unbalanced and we do not know what to do but to be afraid and fight the enemy made. We can’t be different in a situation like this, it is like jumping from an airplane. We need to belong and we want to belong to this system that is exploiting every possible living being to grow and expand without an end. The end is scary even though we think we do not know it, but it is there and we know what can be done to avoid the inevitable crash but we won’t do what we should. The whole of our thinking which we base our lives on is about abuse, isolation, gaps, our culture grows from abuse, grows from inequality and the fact that difference is dangerous. Working in a consumption oriented world is a plan to infect us all to be the best possible consumers, workers, obedient citizens who do not criticize openly education system, governments, criticize work or even understand to question why things are done as they are, to ask why aren’t people accountable for their actions. This is an ongoing facade, parade of hypocrites, a stage act, which at the moment is desired to be a true mission by corporations without an end, it is nothing but abuse, violent control, growing surveillance, lack of trust, gaining power for the few. Future will be about restrictions of civil rights, labor rights and human rights, abuse of labor, abuse of natural resources, abuse of governments and people in this mission where winnings are made for corporations with a smile. If you think art, music industry, fashion and entertainment are there to create something new and original for us, you are wrong. We are to be brainwashed to want what successful people have, live the way the rich live and admire them.

http://www.newrepublic.com/article/121388/why-jews-arent-leaving-europe-contra-atlantics-jeffrey-goldbergutm_content=bufferad566&utm_medium=social&utm_source=twitter.com&utm_campaign=buffer I’m a European Jew—and No, I’m Not Leaving

Working day is everyday

19 maaliskuun, 20158 maaliskuun, 2018 | Henna Timanttimetsä

Bodies online

Kuva | 18 maaliskuun, 201511 maaliskuun, 2018 | Henna Timanttimetsä

Get well soon.

16 maaliskuun, 20158 maaliskuun, 2018 | Henna Timanttimetsä

To find something truthful we must believe the evidence there is, blood of evidence. That there is blood as evidence demonstrating as an accomplishment and fact to be seen and felt. Proven Nauseating goo. Not to stand sight of it, not even a drop because it is full of meaning.
Alive to witness decline of the obvious there is a parade, parade after parade in which to shine and with. We didn’t bleed, we don’t bleed, we cannot bleed, bleeding is awkward, it is lame, bleeding is weakness right there.
I cheer it when it happens, WHEN there is a moment of insight into what we are. The low of assumption, low of circulating conclusions, when fact based truth is too much to take, I cheer when something else gets out than what was expected. When it is let out. Something else than a parade of much, too much with too little.
I don’t know what Hoccuspoccus we need making one’s truth right in the eyes and ears of those who play witness, bear witness, testify, who play good because they have to, because they know what is good, who can play perfect without being bloody perfect. It takes imperfection. That there is perfect there must be truth. Lie can never be perfect. To never forget is very telling, that there is no end to seeking.
The evidence there is: what can be seen as evidence? How close can we see, how close can we get, want to look at, understand to go? It takes time, curiosity, sensitivity and senses. The things you see, what you see, what you witness, how do you come forward with the things you have found. what to make of them? It is tricky. Don’t get tangled with the obvious, but the mess of truth, how to be truthful. Look at your hands and look at your face, look next to them and behind.

I had a thought about crying. It is a form of uncomfortable, form of cried on issues on tissues on pile of unused ones, in their wrapping, folded new and white. Crying as a sign of weakness, female sensitivity. But I must not cry. It will bring shadow on me, an awkward situation and around me nothingness where I cannot see myself. I can take it, keep it inside me. They cannot, take it for them, tolerate it. Cried on tissues, blown on, wet on taken tissue and I do not have a permission to talk about it because crying is a sign.