crying hockey tears

Finns, stand united in sorrow.

But we love you anyway, Leijonat. Nobody plays ice hockey like you do. Not even those who claim to have beaten you.

two souls in orbit

You, who look at me like that
You, who stand on the rock of history and soar across the sea with the wings of the eagle
I, who avoid your gaze
I, whose restless soul roams the earth

I, who desperately look for the sun
I, who howl with wolves in mountain forests
You, who stand strong in a storm
You, who treasure the freedom of sky meeting sea

Here in this world or there in the next
Always coming together

when your joy hurts me

Jealous of people who got it all together.

Don't want to be happy for them. I want to be happy for ME!

Why are some people just happy? Why do they say God fills their lives with joy and peace and why, on top of this, do they have big happy families, good jobs, loads of friends?

When I ask them, they reply that God wants me to have all the good things too. And though they don't mean it like that, to me they are implying that I must be doing something wrong. Can they not understand that there are people who devote their lives to God, do everything right and still suffer? And people like me who are trying to get it right, who muddle along, run off to do the wrong thing occasionally, suffer, but still hang on to God for dear life because He is all they've got?

Feeling lost. But I think God knows where I am.

arrival of asian angel

He is four years old. He has travelled for the first time in his life, travelled for a day and a night from his hot home country to the other side of the world - the cold and Western side. He stumbles out into the airport at the end of the journey and smiles hesitantly as he looks around with wide eyes at all the hurried, pale-faced people around him. He says something in his own language to his new mother who understands only his body language and answers with her own foreign words. But she smiles back at him.

His new sister and brother, a few years older, show him how to put on thick coveralls, a woolly hat and, strangest of all, woolly mittens. He accepts all of it and studies his hands in the mittens with wonder. When they leave the airport building, an icy wind hurls itself against his face. He squeezes his eyes shut against the brightness of the snow. Around the airport there are only fields, vast and empty and snowy fields. It could not be more different from the hot and crowded Asian city he has known all his life.

What is going on in his head? He looks, he smiles at his new parents when they hug him, he finds a toy in the car and starts playing with it.

Welcome to Finland, my new nephew. We all love you already. And listen to your mother when she tells you not to eat the snow.

to put yourself to sleep, read this

No, dear friendly lady from the Unemployment Office, I don't have time to go out and look for a job. Why? Because all my time is spent filling out forms for your office, Social Welfare and the other establishments who might be kind enough to pay for my next meal.

It would be easier if I was a full-time unemployed. Don't take a part-time job if you don't want the Paper Monster to come and get you.

Still. I have seen too many people begging in the gutters of the world and freezing to death while desperately looking for shelter. I have warmth. I have food. I even have wine, blogging, TV. How dare I complain?

You can take a girl out of idealism but you can't take idealism out of the girl. Weird, how it survives disappointment, bitterness and too many punches from the Real World. A little cynic and a little stubborn idealist fight for the space in my confused soul.

Self-analysis completed. God, how boring - can't even be bothered to read through it myself. I need to be funnier. Funny people have all the fun!