(winter snow)

I remembered today that I am a child of the winter. I had forgotten how beautiful snow was, and how little the cold chills me.

This day (last day) was wonderful.

/pao – 16 dec 09 – 07.33


(empty pages)

for three days, i have had an empty wordpad document open.. ready, if i should decide to write anything, listen to me if i should decide to speak…

but all i say, i say to them..
no words left for myself…

Mothersister was over last night.. she held me in her arms and spoke of hunting, with her soft voice filled with love.. wrapped up in her arms I found comfort, rest and warmth.. my dear Mothercat, speaking to me, her kitten, of things I had forgotten.. a mother cat telling her kitten about the joy of the hunt, the taste of blood, the sound of suffering.. and I told her things I hadn’t been able to tell anyone in a while.. wrapped up in her arms with her soft voice in her head, speaking to me at my level, it felt like a dream…
a wonderful, restful, peaceful dream…
soothing, calming, slipping over me like something cool, something fresh.. Calming.

and I snapped my teeth together and grinded them as if severing some poor prey’s spine, and sometimes I extended my claws.. and her soft voice in my head was just like a dream.. speaking of death and violence and pain and tears, lovingly…

And now I feel a lot better.
I will probably sleep good this night too.

/pao – 13 dec 09 – 05.08


i was supposed to write, but i can’t bring myself to.. too much pain, too little energy.. i have lovely music to listen to, but everything seems wrong.. they are not the songs i have in my head…

physical pain, mental pain.. hunger (starvation?) and clawing despair.. i tried to sleep, but the nightmares came.. listened to music and cried as dreda made food…

how can it hurt so much? how can i be able to have so much pain in me?
i am not eating much.. i ate some cheeseburgers today.. but i am not drinking much either.. it is hard to keep my head up, to keep myself warm.. and when i get cold there is just even more pain, and i get awfully tired…

i began a project.. a big one.. i am still thinking about how to do it the best way possible, practically speaking.. because i am a masochist who tries to manipulate pictures in ms pain(t).. because i never learn…

i feel so cold.. and lonely.. i bet that even if i set myself on fire, i would still die cold.. and the salamanders would probably not want to hug me… (i am not sure if salamanders finds paos attractive..)

i have this very, very bad idea about taking a cold shower and go out to sleep on the balcony and freeze to death.. but it is not a good idea.. and O reminds me of that.. as soon as I bring it up…
no hypothermia for pao…

i do not want to go to england.. i am not sure it is anything but a desperate attempt to flee.. flee from what? the winter? the fear? the despair? i cannot flee from myself.. i will be as depressed and sad and desperate there as I am here.. probably even more so…
because, even if I have been there, many years ago, it is too far into the past.. england would be a new place.. with new people.. new houses.. new routines.. new food…
perhaps i would be too overloaded to be depressed.. perhaps.. but i am fairly sure i am very capable of sitting in a corner, being quite sad…
(i am always in corners, being sad.. sometimes new corners.. but always the same sadness…)

it doesn’t matter…

i miss kopparberg.. i want to go back there.. only, that i don’t.. i never want to set a paw there ever again… but i miss the forests.

i miss my boulder.. i miss my howling song.. i miss the clear, human-created lake…


under the rose bush / in the crystal clear autumn / i made him a bed of feathers.. / i put up the white ribbons / and laid his body to rest.. / i lovingly covered him with a blanket of leaves / then i left him, never to return again…


will it ever end? will it ever stop hurting? there is joy and happiness too; there is love and there is laughter, but the pain never goes away.. is it supposed to be like this?
it is breaking me. again and again and again…
every single time it claws my lungs to bloody ribbons and i cannot breathe because of the pain..
how long will it hurt?


also, i feel fat.. i look fat.. but i know i cannot possibly be.
i am constantly hungry, but no food can chase it away.. so, there is no point eating.. (O – “But there is. You are hungry just because you do not eat enough. You have to eat more. You should eat more.”)

i am supposed to be the human one of us, right? a human, a pantherlike feline, and the grey pantherlike thing with wings.. so why am i the one who wants to hunt and bury my teeth and claws in a soft, twitching body?
shouldn’t that be V’s job?


time to sleep and face the nightmares..


/pao – 10 dec 09 – 02.12


and further down / in the lower, right corner / sat a magpie made of blood / the white was white / the black was red / and I did not yet know what all this meant…


the clouds, they crashed into the side of the mountain / they fell down to Earth and scattered amongst the trees / the red houses the silvery cars the stressing people / and for a moment we could all breathe the cold of heaven / and wear the tears of the sky on our cheeks…


you were the love I carried in my heart for so long / without anywhere I could direct it / without anyone in my life who was worth it / not anyone worth giving it to / tearing my heart into tiny pieces…


so we sit here in the cold winter silence / with only the music of snowfall / in our ears / as our words turns to mist..
it was hesitant spring not long ago / then warm and lazy summer / then suddenly autumn had come..
we saved what we could / we curled up around the fire / and we sang until our voices became gentle mist…
then we fell asleep / and we look at each other now / separated by fire that cannot thaw our frozen bones / and all we see are dreams from a summer passed..
like ghosts who cannot ever leave…


his hair was short when I saw him / and his eyes were icy cold and burning with life / and held my gaze steadily as he smiled / baring fangs / and I turned my back to him / led him towards my home /not sure if he would kill me / knowing he was dangerous to me..
the mallard I caught was warm and soft / under my paws / as I held it after the pounce / and there was fear in the voice of my companion / and he seemed relieved when I shortly thereafter / released the bird / and let it flee back to safety / far away from my claws…


there is no excuse for what I am doing to myself / and all my reasons are hidden and unreasonable / I have many friends around me / loving me / caring for me..
and I miss the time when I was alone in the world / no one to understand me / no arms to curl up in / no eyes to see who I was..
I miss the person I was / I miss the person I used to love / the glance I would meet in the mirror / I miss the girl who is since long dead now..
she lived alone / she died alone / I carry pieces of her heart in mine / but never again shall I meet / her gaze in the mirror..
she lived alone / and she died alone / a long time ago / and I miss her / but she never knew me / she died before I existed / but the pieces of her still in my heart / they make me remember / how it was to be truly free / and the sound of living forest night…


his embrace was warm and safe / and I wish I could stay there forever / feel safe and loved / but I had to go / I had to leave / I had to run off / I could not let myself stay / because the farewell will come / as surely as the night comes / the winter comes / the end of my life / and the end of the world..
“be careful of who you love” / but surely, we do not choose love / we do not choose to get lost / we do not choose the despair and pain / the guilt and the shame / the longing and the consuming desire; / we try to choose the warmth / the happiness / the safety..
we try to choose to stay / we hope that if we have to leave / we will still see each other again / and once again feel safe and warm..
but I could not stay / I had to leave / before I began to hope / that it would never end…


her eyes are alight with joy / when I kiss her / and she smiles / and I burn / and I want to curl up against her / dreaming of playing / dreaming of silence / dreaming of rest..
the red of blood / I don’t know if it is hers / or if it is mine / (is it mine?) / wrestling biting hitting squirming around each other / growling in anger in fear in pain / while our eyes shine with joy / and we curl up against each other / exhausted / and trembling with life / until we fall asleep…


the power went out / and suddenly there was only silence / only darkness / and I froze as a rabbit who saw a hawk / there was knocking in the walls / and I was not afraid / but listen cautiously / (are they from within these walls?) / but then I lighted a candle from beside my computer / and the fire was warm..
and I took the knife from beside my computer / slid it into my pocket / where it would be easy to draw / for defense / if the scavenger gangs would come..
in the livingroom I put tea-candles on plates / lighted them / and they reminded me of campfires / spreading a bit of warmth and light / and gently dancing shadows..
so I retreated into the shadows / and I played the recorder / as silently as I could / and then a bit louder / but when I stopped I was still surrounded / by the natural silence / unbroken by human and artificial sounds..
I put some tea-lights out in the stairway / three lights on a plate / on a step / so that if my neighbours looked out through their doors / they would see something else than darkness / and perhaps feel a bit safer..
I turned on the radio / and the rasping crackling whining sound / filled my world / until I managed to find some really strange music / reminding me of Devil Doll..
sitting curled up before the fire / watching the dancing shadows / feeling safe inside my shell / confident in my own capability / of dealing with the sudden lack of electricity / the pressure of my knife against my thigh / as I ate leftovers from yesterday..
then suddenly the lights came back on / filling me with a sting of pain; / the feeling of loss / and then the human background sounds returned / filling up my world / with uneasiness / once again..


/pao – 9 dec 09 / 00.54



she spent her time wondering
thinking dreaming crying forgetting
finding herself finding her place
only to forget it all again

words and silence all taste the same
when you are deaf and blind

forgetting searching finding forgetting
and not giving up, trying again
again again again again again again
forgetting what she was looking for


are you lost, little cat?
have you forgotten once again?
the taste of being truly free
and the sound of springtime rain?

have you lost your way
are you howling in vain?
have you forgotten your path
and the sound of springtime rain?

are you so desperate now
to find a cure for the pain
that you would try to forget
the sound of soft springtime rain?

lost lost lost, little cat
but what does it really matter?
howl little cat, if you feel lonely
fill your world with your voice!

do not forget, little cat
the time will come for dance again
remember that you have all to gain
do not forget the springtime rain
do not forget the springtime rain
remember, little cat
remember remember


she spent her time wondering
thinking dreaming crying forgetting
finding herself finding her place
only to forget it all again

forgetting searching finding forgetting
and not giving up, trying again
again again again again again again
forgetting what she was looking for

searching searching searching
her nose deep in books memories
songs dreams poems thoughts
frantically searching
but she will never know
what she is looking for
before she finds it
only to forget it
again and again
and again and
again and

hoping it is not yet lost
running out of time
pain fear and desperation
and deep howling
calling calling


do not forget, little cat
marrana, marrana
the spring comes again
marrana, marrana

do not forget, marrana
the sound of rain
the taste of rain
the love of rain
the song of rain

bringing life again
just wait, little cat
marrana marrana
it will come again

marrana imail
narhil narhil


/pao – 2 dec 09 – 06.45



So, today I started writing on the forum about heraldry that I joined some days ago. I really hope I don’t make a too big fool out of myself. But you never know.

I wrote a short introduction about myself, and then I put up my idea for my own weapon. I am quite afraid, but I hope it will go well. They seemed to be good and nice people, but I don’t know. They are still people, and I seem to bring out the worst in people.

Too nervous there to be able to write well, or thoughtfully. I hope they forgive me. And I really hope to be able to write good things and bring something good to the forum too.


you are the dream that takes me through the winter snow…


I want to breathe, but it hurts too much.
I want to sing, but I can’t.


does it matter who we are, if we cannot change?
I don’t think I have ever changed that much, because when I think about how I used to be… sure, I have grown, I have matured, but all my passions in life, all my major personality traits, all my character flaws… they are the same.

If we cannot change, who we are seems to be even more important.
But I think we change. I think we do.
Just never in the ways we want.


In the terrible adventure of each night, whose irrational daring springs only from the ignorance of danger.. the doors open wide, and streams of unknown flow into the sleep..!” (Devil Doll – Mr Doctor)


V wants to see the sea. The cliffs and the waves, and feel the wind. I feel a bit sad for her for not being here the last time we were to England and Scotland. I remember trying to put my jacket on, and actually lifting from the ground.
I think she could have liked that.

I don’t like the sea. The sea scares me.
But, wind.. the feeling of the wind pulling me… I like that. I love storms, I love hearing the thunder and the rain.


I need morning tea now.

/pao – 1 dec 09 – 18.44
heralds don’t pun, they cant