#markolli

[psychotomy]

They make strange lovers, or something like that

[savorthatillusion]

Times when

“Happy lil guy *affectionate*”

[kitsune24fox]

Cos it seems to matter where I go, I will always let you know

That the place where I am is never far

You know, you're not alone, don't be alarmed

I'll find you no matter where you are

Poets of the Fall: PAQ

[psychotomy]

Say no more

[psychotomy]

Sketches

[psychotomy]

Like ghosts in ultraviolet

[kitsune24fox]

I really like the performance of The Beautiful Ones because there is pure energy of the union of Marko and Olli◔◡◔ How harmoniously everything sounds, and Marko's voice – especially here – is comparable to something divine, but...

Today we are talking about our talented guitarist with super fast fingers and just taivaan lahja Olli Tukiainen, because today is his birthday!

The blond boy continues to grow not only physically, but also creatively. As we know, he recorded a couple of videos, released his own album, and is going on a small tour in May! ☺️ Let's wish him all the best on his way, inspiration and happiness in his personal life☺️

Hyvää syntymäpäivää!🎉🎂

Poets of the Fall: PAQ

[kitsune24fox]

ㅤHis guitar playing wasn't as good as Olli's, but Marko was trying. He pulled the strings again and again, listening, and ran his fingertips over them a couple of times until the right sound rang. Olli liked watching this tenacity. He helped, suggested something, although he knew perfectly well that Marko already knows everything. This guy learns quickly, and studies a lot to achieve excellent results. Which he did well. Olli sighed, leaning his head against the guitar deck, quietly watching his friend's persistence. Marko was too engrossed to hear anything, but nevertheless, he heard Olli's question:

– Who do you see yourself in 25 years?

Marko was distracted and slowly raised his head to Olli. At the age of 25, Marko played in another band, where he managed to get acquainted with a first-class guitarist, whom – as it turned out – he had previously seen. It didn't take long before the two young musicians got along very well, improving their skills together. Olli played guitar, and Marko composed new lyrics, thinking out loud about how cool it would be to create a band and really sing. Travel around the cities with gigs, perform their own songs, record CDs, play... In a word – to live...

– A very old man? – Marko raised a mocking eyebrow, chuckling. After 25 years... He couldn't even imagine how much and far it was.

Olli smiled gently.

– Come on, I'm serious.

– Do you think that 50 years is still the time of youth?

– No, but... I'm not talking about age, but about who you can become. Maybe... – Olli looked up, squinted and thought a little – maybe we will be able to become popular, we will record the tenth album, and there will be a crowd of fans around with a desire to get to know you better?

Marko was writing something on a piece of paper, but he listened attentively to Olli, not missing a single word. When the guitarist finished fantasizing, Marko gave a short laugh. Rather, from embarrassment and flattered words:

– You know, I'm not against striving for something new, but I don't think I can influence anyone the way you say – the guy returned to writing on the piece of paper, – I have never considered myself something special and I don't know, If my lines are liked and understood by other people, that's good, but "a crowd of fans" is definitely not about a 50-year-old man. Perhaps by that time I will have run out of ideas for new songs or...

Marko hesitated, sighing heavily and wanted to continue his own vision of a not so bright future, but Olli stopped him:

– Hei, Marko. It was just thinking out loud. Don't get so hung up on it, especially since you're right... The world is too fragile for something grandiose, but you are too talented to devalue yourself so early. Perhaps the time has not come yet.

Marko crossed out a whole line and quickly signed a new one over it, satisfied with the result. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Olli, who carefully ran his fingers over the strings, and smiled imperceptibly.

Poets of the Fall: PAQ