My self-conspiracy saga

Hot, green, morning, cinnamon, mint, peach, men, pen, paper, Atos,before bed time...
The morning air is cold today,colder than usual. I can feel it going up my nostrils and stirring a nasty cocktail of pinchy pain for later. I am not my usual self today, as well.
I heard the sound of splashing waves last night. As if Poseidon himself was at my door step and lured me into deep waters. But I couldn't go. Water never means safety for me, and myself from last night yearned stability. And as I was sitting on the ice cold floor beside my bed, for a very tiny fracture of a very short second, I understood I remember.
Like a staggering call from a not yet lived past... And I knew I was there before, here afterwards. All those feelings I have already lived through. The Fear that comes afterwards is like an old friend.
Is it possible that in these glimpses I'm someone else, the one who has chosen this path for me?
I am afraid not of the unknown but of what exists somewhere in my memory and awaits to become my past.
Choices are tough. Should I go, should I stay and fight, or stay and do nothing. I would love to believe that mumbo jumbo crap about there no being wrong choices. But honestly, I am not that naive. There HAS to be a path that was meant to be taken. And I do not wish to wonder whether the road I had to go turns out to be the one not taken...
I am not my usual self today. And there goes the rabbit out of a sad looking cap.

Matchmaking service "Total disaster"

Let me tell you a story about a girl- and she is most certainly not me!(just to be on the safe side). Her name, unlike her extraordinary story, has no relevance, what so ever, to the plot.
So...She is this chubby, self-doubtful yet spunky kid with absolutely no luck, nada, nothing in her personal romantic life front. The girl has these very very concerned friends, who wish for her not to be alone. And in the sadly epic search of theirs (not hers) for a man they divided into several teams:
A- The relatives- They had very few conditions -single... Oh, would you look at that- only one condition. So you can pretty much understand why the girl always found her back door when it came to dating a competitor for team A.
B- The Posh - With them it was All about looks. Shoes, head wear, hand wear, facial skin condition... You get it. Not that it was bad dating hunky sex gods.Problem was she was too self -aware to believe some of those might actually like her. It was fun with Team B, but the confidence issues were too poignant of a thing to deal with.
C- The RG - Relationship Gurus. Those weren't bad at all. They wanted someone that could stand beside her and not have a weird, crazy look in his eyes- Bad history with pervs on this team- Long story!The RGs searched for something that could pass in a dark alley for a soul mate. No shame there. But talking about history rewritten...
I forgot to say that in the same time the girl actually had an interest with a rather surprising turn to it.
So, you wanna know, if I'm not that girl , how am I to know that story then,huh?! Well,I turned out to be sort of caught in the middle. True story!


P.S. Kid, you know what I'm talking about!

Bending time forwards

This man held a rope in his arms and the waves were pushing him, like a rich snob pushes a homeless dog away. Even more intense did the pain in his eyes become visible to me. He was calling not for help...
I wonder whether the people from the 1910s understood that they would become history. And in that same order of thoughts I wonder whether we understand that we are making history with every little,stupid thing we do. And even more, do we understand the responsibility of that inevitability?!
...His life was holding on the end of that hope he had that I would make it all worth. And how was I to know he wanted so little of me and in the same time rested the weight of a whole world on my not so gentle shoulders...
Little do we know about the importance of our present. At one moment you sit on your window pane, wondering about the existential crap that bothers, with its idiocy, the bigger part of the human kind. And in a completely different moment, far far away from that one minute, you begin to ponder on those same questions. And it is like no time has passed at all. Everything in between was one big blurry spot of mundane instability embraced with the havoc called boredom.
All I want for you(and I mean it)is to understand one simple fact- TIME IS AN ILLUSION! And thoughts - they are permanent.
I lost a minute the other day and I will never get it back. But in exchange I got less time, filled with more! More inspiration; more determination; more sadness; but more of the sweetness pain brings as well!
...That one look, that sadness, madness and sanity his eyes radiated - he prayed to me not to be forgotten! Afterwards...I had no other choice other than to tell his story!...
I never forget lost time,even keep track of it. And as more times go by I wonder if in a parallel universe another me hasn't lost so much time and that made her different!?

Girl talk

Maggie slowly raised her hand and smiled her innocent smile at me. That's when that curious invention of mother nature crossed my path for the first time. I had always been a girl-girl friend type. The amount of men that count as friends for me is too low in numbers. However I have always believed that the hate from woman to woman is a powerful drive. It is a basic principle - when you see a woman prettier. better dressed, brighter lipstick and more man- looks stuck on her backside...A woman ALWAYS gets envious. I actually do believe the expression : "green with envy" has come to existence all thanks to a woman, and another woman of course.
So now you see how surprised I was at myself for not having that natural feeling when seeing Maggie. She had perfect teeth, a beautiful long hair and I still want that bag of hers so badly.
Wondering who she was- Yeah, I stumbled upon that question in the loooooong pause before she introduced herself. I had this bad feeling she's gonna turn out to be my brothers girlfriend.
And I was wrong.
Maggie was the freshman I had to help in her first year of university. She was so helpless and didn't have the slightest idea what she was doing or where was she going.
Maybe I felt sorry for her ( mostly because she was stupid) or maybe on the inside I felt an inner - triumph. Because I'll tell you one think- I may be self-conscious, shy and indecisive but I am smart and with an exuberant intelligence. So for now I restrain myself from hating and envying the better looking ones. Cause I always have my secret weapon...

Voices

The first time I saw him his eyes were dark green. Nothing else stood out, I didn't see anything else, just those eyes. Never before had I seen such tremendous shades of green, gathered like a Christmas decoration in his look that radiated warmth and apathy at the same time.
Don't ask me about his name- I promised never to speak that call for surrender.
The next time I saw him first came the scent- the irresistable aroma of cinnamon and honey. I wondered for a very long time if his lips tasted the same way. His hands were smooth and his grasp on my shoulders firm. He was so warm...
This is not a love story; not a dream; it's not even a proper story. That is how I would have sounded if the world was different. I would've been this hopeless, too cheesy to believe, romantic. And I would like to thank all the known gods that I AM NOT. I prefer my cynical self better.
Do you know what happens to hopeless romantics?- And I don't refer to those lucky bastards in the happy ending- industry. In real life romantics die internally at the side of their own crushed dreams. There is no perfect love, even love as it comes is hard to find these days.
But here is what there is- perfect coincidence!
The voices in my head often tell me I'm crazy. SO what?! Crazy is good, when normal is better in a messed up world.
-Hey, have you heard about that girl with the weird hair?
-What about that poor thing?
-Poor thing, indeed! She still has hope...

Six-fingered Jack

I had a friend once who had six fingers on his right hand. Lucky for him he was left handed so he didn't have to go through not so pleasant emotions every time he wrote something. The thing that bothered his the most, though, was finding suitable gloves, for winter around here gets rough. Actually that was the reason we became friends - my grandmother was in the knitting business and Jack was her customer.
He was a nice guy, eleven-fingered Jack. He had this strange, almost awkward sense of humour. You could never guess what his job was... He was a designer of custom made scare-crows. Cool huh! Jack had the brilliant imagination of a genius. For my 18th birthday he made this amazing scare-crow for me- in the shape of a tree creature.
In his free time, Jack was going to the high-way and counting cars. A peaceful one that guy was.Such a shame...
Things started to get bad when a sixth toe started growing on each of his feet. A while after that he stopped walking and getting outside his home. A while after that I found him dead in his home. He killed himself with rat poison. I still remember the scared look in his empty eyes...
Those memories keep haunting me even in my best moments, reminding me happy endings don't exist. I've grown to believe it was his own choice - he wanted it, life, to end and did it. But what about everything that is left, everything he left? I burned my scare-crow, not out of anger. I felt and still feel like he left an incrustation of his soul in every scare-crow. So I've tried to set his spirit free.
It turns out you can never have both: the choice to take your own life and the privilege to leave prints of you after... The imprints fade away on their own, consumed by the same oblivion Jack chose to go into.
I destroyed every scare-crow he had ever made. Yesterday I found a six-fingered right hand glove. I miss Jack... And wonder if he got rid of those useless fingers of his...

Suicidal season

In 2009 Russia was the country with the highest suicidal rate. Not that that has any reference to what I want to say - it's just one of those useless facts I storage up in my database.
So it's autumn and everything seems to begin fading into the blackness of winter once again. Or so you think! The situation should not be that grey at all. You probably know that feeling when you're in the middle of something and the end is too far away to see. Autumn is a bit like that as well but the beginning is too far to see as well. Lately I have grown to love the term - sweet agony. And it describes so finely what this time of this climate zone of ours is about. We know it's gonna be over soon but is the exact part when is gets most amazing. I guess it's like that with relationships too, or was it with a piece of cake...
I have a re-accuring huge rat in my bath. At the time I learned about my new guest I wan doing my laundry. And you will never in a million gazillion years guess want I found in my underpants - wait for it- A TEA SACK!- Gosh, that is one pervy rat! I hadn't swept for 2 days straight- it's like I'm waiting for the thing to go out of bath after a hot shower and tell me - Hey baby! There is a shovel next to my bed 24 hours a day. I don't like it, I hate it...But the truth is that this makes me feel like a useless woman.
It's as if I can fight to think, act and be all spiritual and anti-materialism type. And when it gets to something as mundane as a rat in the bathroom I realize I can't be non-earthly. Beat that Master Joda!
When there is no sun around you begin thinking all sorts of non-sense. Sunlight provides us with the most vital of all emotions- faith. Maybe that is why so many poets and writers represent autumn so sad. But it's not! We are the ones who make our life miserable - the sun's gonna come out eventually. Pessimism is more likely to stick around.
P.S. I wonder how much more rat poison is that little bastard going to eat, before he gets to that eternal rat heaven ... I called him Barney

Fear

Yesterday I saw the hate of my life! If there is a "love of one's life", there must be the opposite as well. At least for me that's how living works.
I've read all sorts of mumbo- jumbo about how we should not experience hate because it feeds on our souls. Well good luck with that! We're humans, I'm human, like it or not, and I'm not saying I've bargained for something else- it just seems hate comes naturally.
He was the same man I've remembered for so long and I felt once again that helpless need to radiate spite. The biggest problem is before I started to hate him, I loved him (like that's a surprise). Or maybe I still do. It's just that the hurt he caused me was too much to bare. I know, I know- a story old as the Universe. It's just funny how feelings work- basically against you.
Another oldie but goodie- Boy meets girl,boy looses girl, boy meets computer. Upps.. That one was for my other audience. They are sort of aliens, although I like the term non-terrestrials more. Seems perverse- No not the other audience thing, the boy-computer one! I wonder why there's not a girl-computer thing...
Truth is people only pretend to like reading about real life. What most of you really want is something silly and impossible to believe in. No one wants to be serious, not really. We all wanna run away from responsibility, But it always come back, biting us on the asses.
I'm not saying reality' no good. But I dare to say most of the time I escape it because it's too hard to handle, and I'm too darn stubborn to ask for held. I'm hoping someday I'll learn how but then everything will change...

Reminiscing, Futurising

Four days ago I lost my pen. It was my favourite - all black and curiously shaped in the form of a lady- bug. That is about the same time I lost interest in my Persian-learning experience. It's not funny, neither is it sad the fascinatingly right word is ironic. I guess that was a good lesson, thought to me in the form of a cold shower. You should never, ever (and I mean it) start learning something you don't like. Bad thing is after that cold shower I caught a great deal of a cold. My tongue is swollen and everything tastes wrong. That's pretty sad having in mind I just bought a huge jar of jelly beans...
Three days ago I forgot my mother's birthday. Don't go judging me yet. Because her birthday is today, you see! But I remember that as a child I always looked up to holidays as if those would be the days alien life would finally make contact with us. It's not late yet, that is what I tell myself every year. Sometimes I sit on the porch of my home town house feeling like a child waiting for Santa. I don't crave the presence, it is the magic I miss on lately.
Two days ago I had a dream. I am making it sound like something special but since I have dreams every night it's not. This one, however, was different. I was so enraged, full of hate and spite...Maybe those are all the emotions that never come up to the surface. On the other hand, I do get very emotional and in that case the dream just showed me how bad it could happen.
Yesterday I saw the future I could have had but gave up upon. Strange how it always hurts to know you could have made a different choice even being happy with where you are at present. I don't have any regrets but that doesn't keep me from wondering...
Today I learned to live with my choices! I didn't want to study Persian but I am. My pen is gone and I should have known better than to get attached to a fake lady bug. My mom will always have her birthday on this date and on this date I will always have my childish wishes, and she- her child. In the end dreams will forever be dreams, until we let them become reality.
Keep dreaming!
I'll be on the porch...

Cavalcade

"Imagine greater! Imagine bigger! Be strong! Be bolder! Dare to be noticed!"(...)
Those are not slogans for a better, brighter life. They sound more like the bleach in the big washing machine meant to make us a bunch of ultimately empty headed zombies.
Truth is (and I doubt it someone could argue on that) some people are meant to be leaders, others not. It's not a crucial life determinant or ambition breaking fact. And it is completely natural. We all are were made different and even if we don't get it, it IS by choice.
Just imagine how stiff life, the universe and everything ( sue me, I love Douglas Adams) if we all all the same. Plus I am guessing it would have a pretty crucial impact on everyone's sex life...
I miss my first diary. I lost it! That's among the thing I greatly regret. You see, it showed me what I was like before... I don't remember any more. Maybe I am not supposed to...
I hate being around stupid people. Yes, I know I should be more tolerant and graceful, but it just drives me crazy. How hard is it not be act like a mindless piece of ameba.
There are days like these when I don't feel like talking to any one. I feel more like shouting and swearing. I'm stuck with studying something I don't even like, cut me some slack!
I wonder whether things will change - No, not for me, I mean for everyone else so they can tune in on my frequency. I don't see anything bad in being selfish... Okay, that's a lie! But sometimes it happens so, that you're the only one to care for yourself...

Devolution!

Last night I went to this book launch at my university. There was free wine and some biscuits came along with it. And that is all you need to know about that event. I'm far far away from criticising , I am only stating the facts. It didn't bother me that I have never heard of the collective writers of the book ( although I have a great interest in literature). But this people really took themselves seriously, speaking high words about our faculty and how it helps developing the young minds of Bulgaria! Developing! HA! More like developing an arthritis, while sitting on my bottom, waiting for ANY lecture to just start. In the last year I have lost more time in waiting for an occasional lecture that would prove to me, what I' studying is worth it. Yeah, good luck with that!
I hate this sounding like criticism, because it is quite more. And on top of that I've got people telling me that I should not try to rebel against the stagnated system, that I should in fact accept it as it it. Well, now that is not going to happen! I don't mean sounding like a rebel, or maybe I am. I've stopped trying to make a good impression long time ago.
All I want is things to be different for us, young people. But it seems like that is not my, our, say any more. All I know is, I cannot accept this inability to control my own choices...
I am pretty sure very few of you would know what I am talking about, so I'm going to try and make it clear. Fighting against the system has become my primary crusade( for I'm known for others as well). I want to make a difference, I want the future to be less foggy. And I guess that is pure human nature speaking from the inside...

Extra Extra (reading all about it)

I have never told the man I love, that I actually love him. That's right, I DO love... Seems I haven't realized he is the one, not until today that is. Strange thing the human mind is. You can spend as many poignant hours on trying to figure out how you feel. But in the end it just pops into your mind, while you're walking down to the bus stop, with blisters on your feet and a huge smile on your face. I've been wondering for too long why nothing actually happens to me romantically - Surprise, surprise...Read all about it: Kathy is in love!...
There are no fireworks, no imaginary lovey-dovey cheesiness. Just my awareness! I have never thought about it this way, honestly and this scares me a bit.
Now, you should not go thinking this is some sort of personal diary dilemma. It is a historical documentation of the evolution of feelings. Goodbye teenage crushes! Hello...whatever you are!
Today I danced alone and it made me feel free. I stopped seeing the faces of people passing me on the street. What does it mean? I miss my poetry readings, I have so many poetry books beside my bed... But I don't open them any more.
There was a man today that told me I am beautiful. Maybe he was wrong or that just doesn't mean anything to me. Vanity is too hazaradous for anybody, even more for a control freak like me.
I am not a follower of the existential theory for universal happiness. I don't want happiness, I prefer the truth( for which I have often been mistaken with a mentally ill subject).
Maybe I will tell him how I feel and then know the truth. Or maybe love is just a hallucination!? There are too many "maybe-s" but then again I have never been a fan of precise sciences...
Thank you, I. !

I'm with you

Her name was Annie, or Alice... It was so long ago some of the details just slipped out of my mind. There was a wedding near by when she was passing the street her apartment was on. As always she had her headset on, listening to the only favourite songs she had at that time. She only liked one song at a time, everything else she overlooked as betrayal - maybe she had some trust issues, or was mental...Details!
His name she didn't tell me and I suspect she didn't know it either. But it was of no need, unlike his presence. He was silent or sad, or both. Actually as she kept telling me the story I got the impression he was one of those suffered in- types. You know, exactly the ones girls fall easily for. But that one was not in for games, so she said. She only met him for two hours. He was on the other side of the street when she crossed.
They didn't talk, they just shared a moment of none-loneliness. No, not sex, no kissing. They just stood together for a while, comforted by the simple thought that another human being is nearby. And that was it, they never crossed paths again!
Sounds like a cheesy romantic movie. And what is really wrong is not the story, it's that it sounds too odd for us to believe it. I don't remember the girl any more but I remember her story, because it was the first thing in my entire life that made me envious...
How did it happen, that we stopped just being together? And why instead of reaching out for some warmth we choose to remain alone, but with our great egos to make us even colder. Don't get me wrong- I'm not afraid of being alone. I'm afraid that we all got so accustomed to it!...

At the wrong side?!...

What if the our perception of time is a mere delusion projected by the twisted genius of our emotions? And how come I'm not scared by the future but rather by the slow motion it is running in. Have you ever had a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity or one of those run-away-time glitches, when you wish you could change the fabric of reality and rewind!?
I'm not a physicist, I don't do science, I don't have any equations on my side to proof a point but I have something much more valuable. It can't ever be taken away from me, because even I can't grasp it's full scale - it is my certainty that life begins then and there when we stop wandering...And then we are who we were no more!
Sounds rather complicated, or does it!
I have this great problem with patience. Whenever I run out of it I get this awful red spots right under my lower lip, on the left side. And then I begin to feel like a bull on a matadors arena, and I feel my nostrils growing wider and the only emotion that creeps from my toes up to my neck is helplessness. And I want to shout, to run, to leave all I have made of my life behind me and put on a fresh start. But life doesn't work that way, does it!
I don't want to write about how people are alike, because we are not. We look at life at different angles and often time we forget to ask for our loved ones' coordinates...Maybe if we found each other more often, it would have been different, our world I mean. But then again - maybe in a different reality it is! And I hope they have ice-cream there...