Good Bye IB

My IB results weren't exactly what I expected, but whatever, I'll still get to Anglia Ruskin. At least it's over now, for good.

If you happen to be on the same course as me (film studies, starting next fall), or even in the same school, please let me know because I don't know anyone from the whole country so far.

They sent us hoodies!

First attempt with fake nails

I have never really liked fake hair or fake nails. Fake hair I'll probably never try, but today I gave in with nails. I wanted to have long and sharp claw-like nails, but my own ones are rather weak.
I also bought another new nailpolish today in the hope that this one won't peel off right away, because I like my nails black 24/7.

My new nailspolish, Essie.

The equipment needed

The glue came with the nails, but I bought my first own nail file (I've been stealing the ones my mom has bought). I think it's glass, I think it's really effective.

Fake nails attached

I used scissors and file to cut the nails into
 the right form.

The cherries weren't decorations.
I ate them.

I think they turned out to be quite cool, but I'd like them to
be sharper and longer. I'll do better next time.

Two Obscure Poems

I'm not exactly sure if I have already published this poem before, but here it is.

Phantom Ache

They were never there

but I was straying somewhere

Where I shouldn't be

I met those things I can't even see

I looked into those eyes

they broke something inside

That wasn't there to begin with

lost before I discovered it

Why do I still miss

The feelings I never had, people I don't know

Things that don't exist

How can I have this pain

this haunting phantom ache

The next one I wrote few days ago after a rather long pause. I haven't had much time to write poems or do much anything since my working hours kind of suck and I haven't been very energetic.

Market of Used Goods

Stood on the shelf hardly touched

Behind the New Arrivals, gathering dust

Finally my polish wore off,

leaving no story behind my scuffs

Too old to be new,

discarded as no good for use

The prices are higher for vintage,

here come them who look for something epic

In a place filled with history,

you're worthless without a story

What is a sealed package in a second-hand store?

Trash

So I'm only stumbling on the floor

In the market of used goods,

where I was brand new

Drawing Adam

The process of my first attempt to draw Adam Lambert's face as a whole. It took me about a month, but there were periods when I didn't draw for days.
One day I just decided that I want to draw Adam. I thought it would take ages before I would manage to draw a good pic of him, but apparently I wasn't aware of my real skills. It's nice to notice that you are better than you thought, for a change. I'm quite happy right now.

Done.

Learning to Draw (People)

I have wanted to learn to draw for a long time, and this spring I finally started actually trying to improve myself. Lately I've focused on humans, but I would also like to be able to draw beautiful roses and realistic coffee cups. The photos below are drawn during 2016, and they show that few months ago, I wasn't too brilliant. But I've got better.

April 7th. Horrifying.

May 30th, I used Adam Lambert's record cover (Trespassing) as a model.

Some day before the drawing below... No model used.

May 24th, used some random pic I found online as a model.

April 6th, I was learning to draw a female body.
Most of my drawings have been manga girls,
but I like realistic style more nowadays. 

April 1st, learning to draw a male body,
that darkish mess is accidental.
No model used.

Trying to find the best way to draw mustache.
That green dot is a squashed bug,
I was drawing outside...

Used a pic of Adam as a model. Surprisingly.

Yeah, I've determined to learn to draw Adam.
I just ran out of drawing space with this one.

I've been drawing a picture of Adam for two to three weeks now, I'm trying to finish it today. It's a lot better than any of the pictures above... I've improved a lot in a rather short time. I guess I have never really even tried to do my best while drawing, before now. However, I think I still need a model pic in order to draw well.

Back online

Now that I have an Internet connection, I can keep publishing. (Tomorrow...)

More Echoes

I had written down an idea for a poem: Echoes in the dark. A little while ago I wrote a poem based on that idea and published it, as you can see. Now I just opened my sketchbook to draw and found a poem written under that same title. So I had written the poem Echoes In the Dark in my sketchbook, forgotten it, and written a new one. Well, here's the sketchbook version:

Echoes In the Dark

Words leave my lips

and as they travel through the air

distorted

silenced

never received

I hear my echo

I’ve become a ghost

they sense me there

but they don’t know

Thoughts

crash on the walls

only echoes

wandering around

Cage

unknown maze

a hiding place

for my demons to rage

The lights broke

reality grew heartless

my mind

nothing but a mess

My existence

echoes in the darkness

Black-and-White Summer

I discovered the beauty of black-and-white pictures today. I'm considering turning my Instagram completely black-and-white. I should probably delete all my IG images, my feed seems pretty pathetic at the moment... But now that I have time I can put a little more effort to social media. Maybe I should find someone to teach me the art of selfies.

I will stick to the shadows this summer. Not metaphorically, literally. Also, I found out that they sell some kind of skin shade adjusting drops in The Body Shop, in white. I'm going to have to try those.

You know, black is a rather masochistic color when it comes to sunny summer days. Good thing the summers in Finland have been rather chilly lately.

Echoes In the Dark

Echoes In the Dark

Everything there was

floating in the vacuum

black hole after eruption

Everything I was

everything I had

Now slowly fading

Stumbling into the walls

Seeking and never finding

A crack in your heart

And you still can’t feel anything

All the remains

Feelings left unfelt

Memories grown thorns

Words and thoughts

Tangled and crumbled

These pieces wandering in circles

Deserted hallways

Everything there is left

Only echoes in the dark

Fear of the Dark

I used to be terrified of the dark. When I was a kid, I shivered under my covers at night. If I was home alone and it was dark, I switched on every single light in the house. Sometimes I even slept with my night light on. Running few meters from the garage to the house was a nightmare if it was dark outside.

I don't remember how old I was when my fear of the dark just vanished. Suddenly I didn't mind being home alone in total darkness. I can easily walk alone on a countryside road at night with no other light but the moon. I can stare under my bed no matter how light or dark it is. I started watching horror movies and they don't even give me nightmares. Right away, though, I have had few horror movie related nightmares few months or even years after watching that particular movie.

Just as suddenly as I stopped being afraid of the dark, few years ago I started loving darkness. Before, I didn't mind being in the dark, now I like being in the dark. And I don't only like the darkness as in the lack of light, but dark stuff overall.

When I was something less than fifteen years old, I liked pretty and soft and sweet stuff. I liked those fake flower hair decorations and white lacy shirts. I collected soft toys and my room was decorated with pastel colors. I loved summer and it was nice to get a tan. I hardly had anything black in my wardrobe, because I really liked colors. My playlists included mostly mainstream pop music. Once I saw a TV-advertisement about tongue piercings or piercings overall, however there was someone with a pierced tongue in it. I remember saying to my mom that it was disgusting and that I could never have my tongue pierced.

It was only in the beginning of high school when my love of colors and light turned into love of darkness and black clothes. I still like soft toys, but I keep them hidden in my closet. Fake flowers in my hair doesn't sound very tempting anymore. I still like lace, but not white. As to my room, you can see from a previous post that my decoration is black-and-white. There's very little other colors than black in my wardrobe. My favorite season has changed, too. Even though I still like summer, I prefer autumn. Not the colorful part, but the rainy and grey part. I used to hate that part. And I would hate to get a tan nowadays. I like being pale. My taste in music, as well, took a dramatic turn: right now while writing this I'm listening to Linkin Park. I like heavy metal, certain type of rock and gloomy music overall, even though my favorite artist doesn't really represent these genres. And about that piercing, I'm going to have my tongue pierced right when I have the chance.

The annoying thing is, everyone I have known my entire life still sees me as that little kid who liked fake flower hair decorations. My mom says that I'll regret when I'm older that I only wore black when I was young. I guess she thinks I'm having a phase or something. I don't think so.

So fear of the dark turned into love of the dark. Even better, I sort of became my worst fear. Darkness used to be the thing that I feared the most, now I am dark myself. Ironic.

Makeover coming up

I wrote my very last IB essay today. That means life can finally begin. Now that I have time to actually do things, I will renovate my blog to be more like me. That means a lot more gothic elements, images, larger diversity of art, more thoughtful posts and whatever I can come up with.

In addition, I love gothic fashion. I would love to buy and wear those sort of clothes and accessories, but due to certain aspects, it will be very difficult to do so before next fall when I move out of my parents' house. So there will be goth-outfit posts eventually, probably low-budget outfits since I'll be a broke University student then, but there will be.

Happiness

"I don't want your happiness

I don't need your happiness"

-Happiness/Hurts

Tomorrow will be a super happy day because finals will be over.

I belong in that group of people who think happiness is a destination rather than a way of life. I don't think you can wake up and just decide to be happy. You can wake up and decide to be positive today, or to smile a lot today, or to be kind today, or to ignore everyone's opinions about you today. But happiness is not a decision. You can work hard to get the things or experiences or people that make you happy, you can try your best to enjoy the things that you have now, but you can't click on the "happy-switch".

However, there are many things in life that contribute to happiness. Maybe only momentarily, but still. For me, there are four things that considerably increase my level of happiness: coffee, Nutella, rain, and Adam's music. Even though Nutella is happiness materialized in a jar, I could maybe survive without it. The rest three things are essential for my existence.

Besides the already mentioned things, my definition of happiness include black clothes, black nail polish, shoes, sarcasm, and violent TV-series. Violent because they usually have better plots and less chick-lit. I also like walking in cemeteries.

I guess the mainstream definition for happiness is the famous "live, love, laugh". I've got nothing against those three things, but I'm so fed up with that cliché that I want to act contrary to it. Die, hate, cry? Maybe not quite. More like laugh sarcastically with a very dark sense of humor, hate everyone except people who let me call them stupid and pull the hair on their arms (because it's really amusing), and, well... zombies are kind of cute.

Lay Down My Pain

Every once in awhile I get a burst of inspiration and write a poem in about a minute. These inspirations don't happen too often, and they last about that one minute, and if I don't start writing in an instant, the inspiration dies. It's annoying, but the best poems are born that way. Here's one of these minute-poems:

Lay Down My Pain

I lay down my pain

place these broken pieces on my bed

My eyes are wide open,

but my soul is asleep

I shatter on the sheets,

piece by piece

This world has taken the best of me

Tired

I am not on the outside

Worn out on the inside

I lay at rest this aching heart

I no longer recognize as mine

It's Not Me You're Looking For

It's Not Me You're Looking For

Were you looking at me

Did you see some kind of beauty

I could return that smile of yours

one intoxicated night in your arms

Would you ever guess

When that poison wears off

I'll only be disgusted by your touch

I don't speak soft words,

don't believe in that hard work

My words are soaked in venom

Not afraid to be left alone

I have an easy cover

beneath scarred into hollow

Stab me with your revenge

it'll only be lost in my darkness

If you wonder whether I'm different

maybe with me the feeling wouldn't wither

But you can't make me care

I've become too aware

I take no part in that war

but you're after a different flaw

I can't make it clear enough

So don't ask me anymore

It's not me you're looking for

Finals

I just arrived home after the first final exam. It was English paper one. We were told not to say anything in social media about the exam during the next 24 hours. Okay then.

I have not studied for two weeks. I am not ready for these exams. Why didn't I study? Because of another mental breakdown I guess. Although now that I think about it, I should've studied. I could've studied. But it's too late now.

Biology exam will most likely kill me. It's on the day after tomorrow, and there's so much I haven't yet studied. Biology has the most content that has to be studied, and biology is the subject that does not interest me one bit. But thanks to IB logic, it was either biology, chemistry or physics. I hate them all, so I chose the least bad. And again thanks to IB logic, I have to study higher level biology.

Let's just say that I wrote 2,5 pages in today's exam. Not exactly waiting for a seven.
Nice start for the next two weeks or mental torture.

UPDATE: The second and last English exam is over. Never ever ever compare and contrast again.

UPDATEUPDATE: BIOLOGY IS OVERRRRRRRRR!!! Never again :DDD

First of May / Vappu

The first of May, or Vappu, is a Finnish tradition for celebrating work. And an excuse to get drunk. Vappu includes balloons, funny clothes and donuts. In Tampere, everyone goes to the center of the city, Koskenranta as it's called, to celebrate (drink) in the evening before the actual Vappu day which is a day off from school. I've been celebrating in Koskenranta for few years now, and this year was a little special since it was the last Vappu for me at least for a long time, because they don't celebrate Vappu in England.
It was a wonderful idea to party yesterday, since finals start tomorrow. I should be revising today, but I kind of have a headache...

Chocolate cupcakes

Vappu + me = black balloons.

My favorite cousins and dearest friends

Our original party crew. It grew along the evening...

We had a contest about taking
a selfie with the police. I won.
The photo sucks because I took
 it with Snapchat. I have a photo
 where you can see an actual
 police officer, but it is
 too horrible to publish.

My breakfast today was very healthy

 The Vappu party caused me to have an overwhelming storage of leftover chips, candy and cupcakes, and I don't know what to do with all of them.

Glamberting

Idols are kind of like candy to me: I don't share them. I will keep quiet about them unless you ask me. The more I like someone or something, the less I talk about it. I just like keeping my idols to myself. It's partly because I don't like arguing about opinions.

However, I think idols tell a little something about us, so I decided to write this post (and because I was in the concert). Actually, I have only one real idol: Adam Lambert. I love his style (especially the gloves), I love his voice, I love his looks, I love his attitude. I think Whataya Want from Me was the first song I heard from Adam, and I've liked him ever since. I was quite young when I heard that song, and only after Ghost Town I started wondering why I hadn't listened to this music more. So I started listening to all his songs, and I became a true Glambert in an instant. In my opinion, the thing that makes Adam truly awesome, besides the divine voice, is his attitude: Don't hide who you are, and most importantly, dress up however the fuck you want.

(If you didn't know yet, Adam's fans are called Glamberts.)

Adam gave a little speech about love in the concert, and it was the first love-speech that was something else than irritating to me. Unfortunately I didn't catch it on video, but the idea was that everyone has a heart, and that hearts want to be loved. I guess I have to agree. But the sad truth that I learned while waiting for the concert to start was that all the best guys are gay. Well, I did know that already, but it just became emphasized. Of course, it depends on what type of people you like, but in my case this is accurate.

(The videos are quite short because I was stupid enough to use Snapchat instead of the normal camera, and you can blame the quality on Samsung)

The color of the microphone and its stand had to match his clothes. Cute.

The most beautiful song ever

Music!

It is very nice watching him perform :D

The fan shirt that I can't wear because
 I don't want it to get worn out.

Sitting in front of Hartwall arena

I woke up 3:40am today, or got up, since I couldn't actually sleep. I've been awake now for 24 hours. My train to Helsinki from Tampere left 5.20am, and I've been sitting on the ground in front of Hartwall arena since about 7am. It's now 12.24 and I'm slightly bored and a little tired. I will continue to sit here until 18.30 (6.30pm). Then they will let us inside the arena and showtime will be about 21.00 (9pm). So I'll be staying awake for about 37 hours or more, and I will spend a very large part of that time sitting outside on the ground. Because I want to see Adam Lambert from the front row. This is one of those rare times I'm happy it's not raining.

UPDATE: I was in the front row. It was the best concert ever. I haven't slep for almost 40 hours, feeling quite dizzy. I must forgive that fur. Because it wasn't fur fur.

ANOTHER UPDATE: I hate the camera of my phone, I don't have a single non-blurry photo...

Caress me

Here's the last love poem. Or loveless.

Caress me

Alone in here

I'm drowning

Don't try

You can't find me

Caress me

Hit me.

Don't say you love me

It's not my reality

I might think I'm dreaming

Don't make me pathetic

Caress me

Caress her more.

Ignore me

To keep me sane

I need coldness

Let your eyes fade

Caress me

with cold hands.

Don't give me that taste of happiness

I don't want to be afraid

I don't want to be disappointed

Not again.

So caress me

with one look.

Ignore me

More would make me happy

Love(less) Poems

I was supposed to publish some love poems on Valentine's Day, but then I thought that that particular day wasn't really the day for tragic love poems. And it seems like tragic love poems are the only kind of love poems I have. Then few days back, I read my old poems and was surprised that I had actually portrayed love in the traditional 'meaning of life'- style. It inspired me to write the poem I Used to Write about Love, and since those old love poems are all in Finnish and too embarrassing to be published (and tell nothing about the way I think about love nowadays), I decided to publish some newer poems.
I also read some old diaries of mine, and I didn't even remember that I had been a romantic person once. Like pretty much all girls, I had few pathetic crushes when I was about thirteen. I just laughed at myself while reading those old texts. It was somewhere after the beginning of high school when my thoughts about love and romance took an ironic turn. I think these poems will give quite a good description about my attitude towards the subject. They are arranged from the oldest to the newest, except I Used to Write about Love, which I thought should be the first in the order, since it inspired me to write this post.

I Used to Write about Love

I used to write about love,

when I didn't even know what it meant

I was lonely since day one,

but my dreams were soft and pastel pink

I used to believe in happiness and the goodness of the world,

my imagination was made of hearts and hopes

I've been an outsider as far as I recall

but tomorrow used to be a new chance, and future full of light

Years kept passing and I kept waiting

Somewhere along the way, hopes started fading

I hardly allow a dream

only a cold one

I write about nightmares,

irony of life

White dresses and decorations of lace,

become leather, and the lace black by its shade

Screams of joy and smiling at strangers,

shout in the emptiness and comforting pain

It's hard to believe,

that I used to write about love

It's hard to believe,

that I used to dream in pink

And it's hard to believe,

that I ever believed

The next poem isn't technically very good in my opinion, because I wrote it with rage around those days when I realized that love isn't the most important thing in the world for me. But I don't mind the structure, because the content still works for me. I had written the date 2014 in my poem book, but somehow I feel like it must be more than two years ago when I wrote this.

Love Is a Weakness (2014)

Their songs, their books, their poems and their dreams,

all tell about what they think is all they need

No ending as happy as to have it in their lives,

no food, no drink, no heat, if someone's by your side

They're weak, they're blind, they can't reach the sky,

but like a drug, one thing takes them high

And they say it's a blessing, the meaning of life,

and if not because of that, no right to cry

No story without it, no broken heart,

and without it, you're just cold and dark

Say you don't get it, that you don't believe,

and they think from Hell you are released

The answer to everything, the reason to fight,

to get back on your feet, is to have it, or die

They search for it through their lives, and if you deny,

you're lying, or hiding, too scared, or it's your pride

If they want to be happy, they need to have it,

there's no other way,

because who, who on earth, would live for herself?

One feeling, one word, says it all,

love, is what it's called

The greatest thing of all, I agree, it's nothing less,

the greatest of them all, love is a weakness

Now comes the phase when I had a lapse with disliking romance. I'd like to erase that phase off my life, but at least it gave birth to few poems. The next poem has much more words than my poems usually have, because I had some super inspiration and I had to have every single thought inside my head written down.

All seasons fade (2015)

You color flowers bright and make it snow in summer heat.

You make grass grow green in chilly breeze.

You make autumn leaves shine yellow and red in southern wind.

You make ice sparkle in white and blue under the sunny night sky.

You make cherry trees bloom dreamy pink on burnt ground.

You light up the stars of winter on Midsummer Day.

You give sunrise the colors of darkness and twilight the glow of heaven.

You melt the moon and freeze the sun.

I can see it in your eyes

Beautiful blue, and cold as ice

You look at me and I can see the night,

and the day,

and the stars,

and the light of the sun.

You talk to me and I can hear the wind in the trees,

and the sound of rain falling down.

You smile at me and I can feel the grass on my skin,

and the heat of a cloudless sky,

ice that's soft like glistening cotton,

thorns of roses that tickle like feathers,

blizzard like drizzling pieces of broken dreams.

And you make the ice of an ocean melt beneath my feet.

You set the heaven on fire.

You bring heat to winter,

making snow melt into grey slush

and freeze into black ice.

You bring frost to summer,

making flowers wither,

and leaves tear into shreds.

You water the starving ground with tears of sorrow.

You draw black clouds and block the light.

You bring autumn to spring and kill what hadn't been born.

You bring summer to winter and take away what would have been colorful.

You let the sun and the moon crash and crumble into ashes.

And you kill what you brought to life.

You take away whatever hope you planted.

You reveal whatever faith you gave

to be a lie.

You can't stop the growth of whatever feeling you started.

You created and left to droop.

You broke down what made darkness turn into light.

You left me with nothing but grey.

Like deep freeze in summer heat

You look away, and all seasons fade

I Watched You Leave (2015)

I watched you leave,

through the bleary window-screen

You didn't hug me before you went,

maybe it was for the best

For the last time,

I looked into your eyes

For the last time,

we said goodbye

I watched you leave,

and I learned

what window-pain really means

Apples On the Ground (2015)

Apples on frozen ground,

apples painted black

Under the darkening weeds,

ripped down,

under the tree

You've been picking up the rotten ones

Taste after taste

Trying to like them,

trying to find the one

Until they made you sick,

the apples painted black

that you picked from the ground

And when a good, shiny one dropped on your hand

Black, sparkling in the moonlight

All you had to do was take a bite

You threw it away.

What Comes After the End (2015)

What is there left to say?

Now that I'm looking at you with these darkened eyes

Do you want me to explain?

I lived with your lies

Now my words have dried out

And you don't know what you meant to me,

because you only listened when I didn't speak

I tried to tell, you can't break what's already broken

You taught me one kiss means nothing

When a hundred kisses meant nothing,

I started to see

You weren't the one for me

Is it me who needs to explain?

Tell you what comes after the end?

I have no words left

I have nothing to give you

What comes after the end

You should have listened:

Nothing for you, nothing from me,

But now I am free

As you can see from the next and newest poem, the state of my love poems have grown into a different form since 2015. Although I don't know if this one would be classified as a real love poem, since it has this rather hateful atmosphere, but I think it fits here nicely after the previous poems.

Droplets (2016)

You made a crack on my stonecold wall

to let out a droplet of that sickening shade

you needed to paint her green

I poured out droplets of sorrow

reconstructed something hollow

You tore down my indestructible wall

to tell that you don't want what's inside

when you had already turned away

I poured out droplets of hate

sealed the final gate

Quietly in the dark,

I add another brick on the wall

I make a grave out of broken dreams

forge swords from smothered screams

I drain droplets of crimson

I don't need another lesson

I won't suffer a third one

I left out one old poem because I thought it needed a little modifying. And this post is already miles long, so I'll publish the missing one later.

Sparkling Poems

I did some detail photographing in my room and I noticed that few of the photos seemed like they needed something to be written on them. So I wrote poems on them. The poems aren't that sparkling, but the backgrounds have a little shine, so that's why the title of this post.

Ocean

Ocean

When it wasn’t allowed to rage

could it settle, either?

To be warmed by the rising sun

Swayed by breaths of wind

Just surged under the surface

Clouds were hanging low

Drizzles stuck above

fed the desperate waves

Can it ever settle

Now when after years of restriction

The rain is pouring down

waves are crashing high

Suffocated

But the wind has grown violent

Screams have cut the silence

Will it only wash away the shores

tear down everything on the way?

Should've

Should've chosen visual arts instead of Spanish. Should've chosen standard level biology instead of higher level. Should've studied for exams. Should've tried harder with IAs. Should've written a better personal statement. Should've been less socially awkward. Should've been born with better hair.
Should've. But I didn't. And I have no encouraging phrase to make it better. It just sucks.

Today was the last day of school before the final exams which are in May. And I had my Spanish oral which I guess went just fine. We had a fine party at school and all to celebrate the beginning of the vacation, but I'm just disappointed, because I know I could've done better. My IB predicted grades were 37 out of 45, and I'm going to a University that requires 24 points. I could've done so much better. Then again, I'm going to study film making, not quantum physics.

When going to junior high, I thought I should've tried harder, with both grades and people. I could've been smarter, I could've been more popular. While going to high school, I thought I could've had the best grades from pretty much every subject if I had studied for the exams. Being more popular wasn't such a big deal anymore. Now when high school is about to end, I regret more than ever that I didn't study for the exams. And I don't give a fuck how popular I am. I don't know why I ever cared. I've always been the silent, shy girl, and the popular kids were always mostly bitches. Should've studied harder, should've cared less about irrelevant people. Because what I seem like to strangers couldn't be more misleading, and because I have been blessed with brains that don't need to study barely at all to get good grades.

In addition, I should've stopped eating chocolate ages ago and started actually working out. Should've always drank more water. Or maybe I shouldn't care about appearance.

Now that I'm free until May, I should have more time to prevent all the "should'ves" that might occur after final exams. Maybe that could be an encouraging thought: Next summer, I don't need to say "should've". Because regretting things that you can't change anymore was invented in the deepest hell.

Happy Photos of Easter

For me, Easter is basically an excuse to eat endless amounts of chocolate.

Daffodils - my second favorite flowers.
(Black roses are favorite)

Fanciest table setting I have ever done...

Irish cheesecake, made all by myself.

Happy rest of the Easter!

Reflecting

I haven't even thought about writing for days since I've been busy with my slow, stress-related mental breakdown. School ends next Thursday, but I think I crossed the line today: I've been crying all evening, not even sure why. I have an English oral exam tomorrow about William Blake's poems or Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre, and I haven't been very concentrated on studying today. Jane Eyre's okay, but if the exam will be about Blake, I'm screwed. I won't know which it's going to be until right before the exam. I guess Blake is a really great poet, but honestly, I don't like most of his poems, especially the ones focused on innocence. But this is just my amateur opinion. On the contrary, I had a Finnish oral exam today about Katri Vala's poems. I like most of her poems from the collection Pesäpuu palaa, they're dark enough to suit my taste.
Anyhow, here's a poem by me. I randomly picked something dark from my poem book. Well, they're all dark.

Reflection

I stare at the mirror

I feel creeping terror

Between me and my reflection

There's no connection

Whole is the girl in front of me

I can't count the pieces underneath

Who's looking back?

The shell of what I used to be.

Innocence in her bluish eyes

A shade of the childish smile

Deep down inside

Behind that pretty lie

I want to paint the walls with blood

I see beauty in the most painful scars

Disgusted by all this love around

So I ripped my heart out

Pain is my consolation

My only friend isolation

The things I used to believe

Only thorns now to tear me

I started losing control

Now the cover and content don't correspond

How I reached this point

These two pieces can't be joined

I don't know anymore

There's nowhere left to look for

P.s. I nearly published one that wasn't that dark, and not as good as this. I always do that. I guess I'm afraid someone who knows me will read my blog, but fuck it, they never do.

Room Exchange

I decided to move to my sister's old room since she has moved out. The wallpapers are so pretty there and I was bored with my old room and all the pink stuff. I forgot to take a photo of the old room, but here's few pictures of my new black-and-white bedroom. I keep the old room as a study and dressing room. Advantages of having an older sibling :D