Perfect time

I think of the perfect time. I am perfectionist. I always was. I think of the sea, the waves and 100% chocolate. The perfect evening. The stars which are falling down. Funny, because it will never happen. I have never tasted 100% chocolate. I do not live near the sea. I always miss the feeling when the waves are beating your feets. People who live near the sea will never understand this. I want it so much. Right, now. Take all the pain and bring it to the sea. 

Everybody are the same ....

I drink strong coffee, talk about my future, plan things, discuss serious stuff. I see the same eyes, just not shinny. I see the same eyes, but not the same girl. If friends would see me like that, they would ask me:"what had happened to that sweet, lovely, chubby girl?". I know what I would answer. I am sure. But it will never happen, because to people I am always sunny, happy, laughing, smiling, silly girl. I really want that someone would cut 10cm in my chest.  Ah. They see in my heart black holes. Plenty of them. It has to be like that. I guess. It has to hurt. If it hurts that means you are still alive. You will be dead if you will not feel anything. Furthermore, people are made to hurt each other. With or without guns. The blood which you can see is nothing bad. When you can compare it with the true blood inside you... Well the second one is worse. It is always like that. All people are made to lie, hurt, cheat... We are all the same. It does not matter how we look like. We are all the same. We all think about the same things. Believe me, it does not even matter if you are girl or boy. We are all the same. The same unkind people. 

The Human Race

How can you take the "goodness" and know its weight. How can you compare one to another and say: this is good, that one is bad. It is just impossible. Impossible as to taste oxygen in the air. It is like to catch the butterfly and hold it forever. Impossible. Impossible as to look at the sunset all evening without stopping. Just impossible. We are all the same. Human race, I mean. Everyone need the same: love, health, peace. This is what everyone asks for. Strange, isn't it? We all travel hundred of kilometres just to see an ocean, even though, we just want to run from the place we are born in. We travel hundred of kilometres just to see the place where is better than here, but we can not find it. Isn't that weird, that we, human race, live on the earth, when in our planet 71 percent is water? We are crazy. We are mad. We are human. We are throwing the food that we do not like to eat, even though in the world thousand of children are suffering from the hunger. We look at the flower and smile if it is big and colourful, but we look at the fat kid and we laugh from him or her. Even though, both of them are made by the Mother Nature. We, human race, meet people, talk to them and then gossip them  with others, even though, we do not want that others would do the same. We are selfish. We are cynics. We are liars. We are everything that our parents warn of. We are like that. All like that. All this human race. We are like that.

Memories

I remember my childhood. Like in a fog and not clearly. Some memories are not full, some parts of them are missing. I am about 6 years old. On the bed pillow with colourful butterflies. My mom is sitting near the bed. She is telling me something. I am smiling. The pillow smells Saturdays. That smell I could recognize from thousand kilometres away. The smell of washing powder, the smell of flowers, cleanliness and all the seasons of year. The most wonderful smell that reminds me home. And suddenly mom dissappears. I remember old lady in the hospital. I am little about 3 years old. I am sitting on the bed. She gives me a doll. The most wonderful, spectacular doll. That doll is bigger than me. Suddenly darkness, emptyiness. I am at my grandmother's house. All children are playing chasing game. I run. I fall down. The sandwich, which I was holding in my little hands falls down too. Suddenly I wake up, I am all in the blood. I stand up and walk. I am near my grandmother. Telling her what have happened. I am crying. She takes all medical equipment that she could find in the house. A hole, emptyiness. Like unfinished script for a movie. There are so many parts missing. I can't know.   

White walls

I am sitting on the cold metal chair. On the wall there is a clock. It is 10:57. Suddenly the shouting is just so scary. Door opens. From the room comes a child: young, about 3 years old, with red eyes from the tears, blonde hair and face of exhausted and frustrated boy; his tears are swimming on his little cheeks. Terrible. Now it is my turn. I go to the room. They ask me if I have any metal things with me, if I have any bracelets, earrings, piercings, they ask me my birth date. They put on me heavy metal thing and say do not move. The machine starts to move. I am waiting... I close the doors. On the metal and cold chair sits the same kid. He is without any emotions. His eyes look dead. He sits, but as dead. Emotionally dead. Suddenly he looks like woke up from the dream, even though he was not sleeping. He starts to scream and shout. I am looking at him. The most terrible view I have ever seen. That little kid strugles with his emotions... What a terrible view. That little kid just looks with that eyes and my heart is just bleeding...

The real purpose of the heart

From early age I was thought that human's heart shape is equal to long circle. The heart is a muscle who makes 8000 litres of blood everyday. Heart has got two sides, in those two sides it makes some moves in every 4/5 second that blood could go in the right places. The heart is a muscle, so it's impossible to feel the pain in it. But I have never really believed it. They all were wrong. Terribly wrong. And everytime I feel the pain in my heart I am sure that I was learnt wrong. You know that feeling when you want to breath very deeply? You start to breathe deeper and deeper and suddenly you feel pain in your heart and you have to stop doing it... Or when you just feel so sad that it looks that someone is pulling into your heart the knife. Or when you expect from someone something and they just betray you... You feel dissapointed, your heart is just bleeding. In those moments I am sure that I was thought wrong. In those moments I think about every pain in my heart, which I felt during all my life and I also think of those who felt more pain than me. I think of those who had a heart attack. I can't even imagine what kind of pain they have felt... First their left arm start to get colder and colder, later it starts to melt inside; then head starts to ache with the pain that can not be described in any of the word, but if someone would write those words to explain the pain... It probably would burn this paper sheet. After that they finally feel the heart ache... The most terrible, most frustrating, exhausting, making them shout or scream and at the end of all those pains they finally feel how they are out of the oxygen, how they can not breath, nor shout, nor scream... In those moments when I think of it, I understand that I was wrong all my life...

Clumsy

What I can say. I am living my life. I make mistakes as often as I can. I fall down usually. I hurt people. I am clumsy. I fall down really often. I loose my control. But I always able to stand up and walk again. Step by step. You know, good writers are saying that if you want to be a good writer, you need to write about what you think you are good in. And what if I am good at nothing? I have to write about nothing? I do not know what I want from my life. I do not know what the life had prepared to me. From the little age, probably it will sound so funny... From the little age I was clumsy. I was clumsy more physically. My parents avoid to buy dishes, which are made from glass, because in one day I was able to break about 2 or 3 dishes or cups. I didn't want that. I did it accidentally. I used to be full of energy. I used to be little chubby so I had to be clumsy. I fall down from the bicycle. I fall down while I was running. I fall down. I just used to walk like that. I used to be like that. I am like that. I am clumsy. Now when I grew up a bit, I am less clumsy. Now I am more clumsy with my minds. I hurt people a lot. I am emotional person. I say everything what I feel. And it takes about a day or two to understand that I just made a mistake. But when I start to think. I am thinking a lot. I am always thinking a lot. I am talking a lot too. But if I would be able to talk as much as I think, I probably make people bored soon. I love to get long letters and read other people thoughts. I like when people share their feelings and thoughts with me. It makes me feel like a part of their life. I feel good if I can help people. Even though I am more clumsy.

Dark dark sky

The night is peaceful. The most peaceful night I have ever seen before. Even the stars are more silent than they used to be. Little by little, small and elegant snowflakes are falling on the dirty ground. The nature is sleeping. But I can not sleep. This time of the year I used to wake up without any reason and listen to the sounds of the house. It may take just a moment. But I like to listen to that sounds. Every dust has got it's own sound. I am listening to the sound of the walls. It has got so much to tell! Suddenly I open my curtains,. I look into the dark sky. Sky is dark dark blue. The stars are so silent, it looks like they do not want to disturb our sleep. To disturb the magic silence of the night. I am looking to the sky and thinking: what if somewhere far far away, someone is looking at the same sky with the same minds as I do? What if that person likes to listen to the sounds of the house and likes to think about the things? What if there is a person who wakes up at night, because he has no time to think about the things during the day? And maybe that person is glad too, because he knows that somewhere far far away, there is one person who is looking at the same dark sky, at the same bright stars and is listening to the sounds of the house.

The missing feeling

How often can you miss someone? How times per day do you miss the person? Why the people who you miss the most are used to miss you the least? Did you ever felt the "miss" feeling? When you want to see the person, the feeling when you want to climb on the ceilings from the pain. That feeling when you know that there is no opportunity to see that person. Personally, I miss people a lot. There are two types of  "miss" feeling. First is when you miss the person very very much and you feel just terrible, it is when you do not want to eat, when you do not want to do anything, when you are waiting for somebody, but nobody comes- that's just terrible! Second type is when you miss the person, but you miss in a good way. When you can miss the person with the memories about that person- it is a pleasant "miss" feeling. That feeling gives you a hope that you will meet someday with that person, but till that time you have to wait a bit. Even though, you know that one or two months is not a bit if you are feeling the first type of "miss" feeling, but for the second type of this feeling it is just a moment. Per month or two months, you will not got colder, even though it would be a cold cold winter, because people who have memories, well, they never feel coldness. Also the people who are used to miss people in the second type of this feeling. They never feel alone. They never feel coldness. I feel cold. I used to feel the first type of this feeling. I miss almost all people with that sad form of missing. People are saying: 'What you can not change, it is not necessary to be sad about.' Yes, it is not necessary to be sad about. It is better do not think of anything...

I am just fine

I am just fine. Just my lungs do not want to breathe anymore. Just my heart do not want to beat anymore... Just my soul is lost somehwere. My soul is lost and I do not know where I could find it. My brains do not want to think. My brains do not want to create minds anymore... I am okey. I am healthy. I am happy. Am I happy? Do not know. I am sure about that. My lungs, heart, soul, brains do not want to functionate... But personally, I want to live. I want to live with my eyes, because my eyes want to see everything: every colour, every letter, every smile- everything. I want to live, because my ears do want to listen all the birds, all the butterflies wings, all the morning greetings- everything. My legs want to walk, to jump, to run- to do everything. I still want to scream from the happiness when I see person, who I like. I would like to say something nice to my enemies. I am fine. Just as I said, my soul is lost somewhere. Or maybe, it's just hiding somewhere?