Breakfast... the most important meal of the day..? It all depends on where you're eating it.

I realised in my first writing of dribble.... i mentioned Holly Golightly, and how i wasn't talking about love in that sense.... because to love rainy days and grey depressing weather like you would a person is just not possible.

I did however recall a quote.... or rather.. a series of quotes:

Holly Golightly: You know those days when you get the mean reds?
Paul Varjak: The mean reds, you mean like the blues?
Holly Golightly: No. The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long, you're just sad that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?
Paul Varjak: Sure.
Holly Golightly: Well, when I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that would make me feel like Tiffany's, then - then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name! 

Truman Capote's words (as much as he was a fat little man with spectacles and a strange attitude) are as true as the night will bring darkness, actually that's a bad simile... in Finland in the Summer,  the sun doesn't set all night... 

Anyways...

Tiffany's is basically a pseudonym for that place you call "yours/my own".

At times when you want to close your eyes to the exhausting situations around you....

The Reds, the Blues.... and the rest of the primary colours.... you no longer want to see.

We all need an escape.... not from reality per se, because we are reality....our lives are reality... but a place to gather your broken pieces up, little shards of mirror...  and start the silent, machanical-like actions.. to put them back together... in those habitual movements... you find a certain cut of solace... and we see a ourselves again... in one piece... and are ready to deal with the mobs once again.... 

Rooftops and Red wine (the good colour red)

Steering wheels and tapedecks (long drives)

Midnight cleaning frenzies (been there done that)

Or do you, like Holly Golightly  stand outside Tiffany's whilst eating your breakfast?

I'm yet to buy some furniture and give the Cat a name....

Drink this.. Helsinki

Transition.. Wallpaper... and Temporary Cities

It's funny, you arrive either single, married or other...
and you leave as single married or other...

For the most part the ones I've spoken with, they love living in a new city, as I do, but it's as if this love you have for the city is so fickle, in my case it's a place you do not bury your heart... a surface which can be relatively easily wiped clean... a new slate, attachment is a curse.
You soon realise you will not leave without emotional attachments...

It's like walking into a room you've never seen before, you take in all the little details the longer you stay in it, from the art deco lounge, to the sideboard with the vintage candlestick holders.
Everything is beautiful.. but as you make your way across the room, you start seeing the cracks that are forming on the walls covered in Florence Broadhurst* originals...
The worn parts in the floorboards... and the general disintegration of the place.
You start making your way to another door....picking up something on your way out... a remembrance..... and with that you're grasping the crystal doorknob... and wondering what awaits you on the other side.

This is living in a new city, you learn the city, and come to find all the beautiful things about it...
The different textiles, so it seems of life....
You see it's flaws... and learn to deal with them... and all the while reminding yourself of what you did have back "home"... home... ask people, they all have a different idea of what "home" is...
To me home is the epitome of a comfort zone, it's the place you know so well, and it doesn't mean it has to be a house, or town, it's just where you keep a part of yourself... with friends/family.... memories.... sometimes they make more of an impact on you then they did when that memory was the present. And you recall it with fondness... a fair exchange.

Homesickness is another flaw in the fabric you have to deal with....
In my honest opinion, it's like a bruise, that you are constantly knocking...
after a while, the bruise fades and you don't feel it as much...
and then soon there is only a faded mark, which caused you so much pain to begin with.
You never forget how you got the bruise... or who caused it (in this case your friends are the object) but it doesn't hurt so much... you miss everyone.. but you pacify yourself with the thought that they're surviving without you..
And plus your friends you've made from the "new city" are wonderful to have in your life. : )
And then you're gone, and just like that, the cycle starts all over again....

This is self inflicted. You will have no sympathy from anyone but the ones who are your fellow comrades in this journey, ones who have left the comforts of "home" just like you and found the world...you and these ones are joined together with a rope called "not from here"... might as well put a neon sign above your head, especially if you're a Blonde haired blue eyed person in a place full of the dark haired dark eyed people... : )
It takes some getting use to the stares... luckily I'm a big fan of the "stare" so I'm quite happy to unnerve them all and stare right back.... the medicine is oh so sweet when feeding someone else with the spoon...

With each city you live in, and then leave, it's like the walk through the room, you pick up something on your way out... you learn yourself... you grow... and you come one step closer to finding what you want....

In life, love and coffee.

Transition... the word of the day.

*Florence Broadhurst was best known for her designing of wallpapers that epitomised the boldness of the 1960's style, she also dabbled in acting, singing and other. She was extravagant with money and economical with the truth......and was a true socialite of her time.

The Room

 

Rainy days, Broken Umbrellas, and the Blurred Vision Between Grey and Blue.

The last few days have blessed us with treacherous weather... 

For some, this brings a certain satisfaction, as if at the end of the day/s they would receive a certificate (or t shirt for those who love collecting extremely grotesque souvenirs) that says "I survived *fill this space with some cheesy tourist attraction*"... but they still feel that it's a hindrance, something that gets in the way of their daily commuting, work, socialising and other.

For others it's of more serious concern, it's like a slap in the face, with a cold hard wind (hmmm fitting) they no sooner step outside the door and they start cursing anything that isn't a warm bed/waterbottle/heater/hot cup of tea..  in reality at times, we all feel like cursing anything that moves... and some days you're entitled to it.

I for one, am in love with this kind of weather, and I'm not talking Holly Golightly cerca Breakfast at Tiffany's style, I'm talking about the dark, gloomy foreboding skies, downpours of rain so heavy the droplets of water sting your skin and the wind that makes your umbrella turn inside out along with your heart.

These are the days that cause you to feel different emotions, and the days you're allowed to retract into yourself... and discover new things.

 

Why is it the weather effects emotions so much?

On a normal blue skied day you're asked "what's the matter?" when someone catches a glimpse of your troubled look as you quickly plaster a smile on much like a scary clown who's had one too many to drink, and push the feelings down like it's your duty.

On a miserable day, no one blinks twice even when your face is as dark as the clouds above your head, unless it's to relieve the rain drops from your eyes.

I think it's time for equality.

Bring on emotional crazies on "rose coloured" days

and let the grey days visiting see the people receive them with a different perspective.

Lay down your arms! (Umbrellas)

The Paisley One x