Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Kisses and smiles
Non-convertible currency
Memories pile up
At negotiable frequency

Love by the calendar
And a life on hold
Less that I bargained for
Or so I've been told

Warm green eyes
Now turning to glass
Passing me by
And pushing me back

Heart on my sleeve
Shot with one round
Try not to grieve, dear

July 22, 2015

Friday, April 8, 2011

desperate housewife

My Eee PC is broken and all I've got left to write from is my boyfriend's N900 (awesome gadget, by the way). And since he still has not installed cyrillic, and I still feel like writing (man, this thing's keyboard rules the world), this seems to be the right place to pour it out.

Suddenly it seems my life has hit a straight rail track that leads me I don't know where. It's like I've lost control over it somehow and just let myself be dragged by the stream. (mainstream?) I worry about stuff like what we're going to have for dinner and what color the walls of my new bedroom should be and what kind of shitter I should buy. I don't take pictures, I don't write and I don't ride planes anymore. I hardly do any of the things I love, telling myself that this is temporary, and that things will get better. And maybe they will. Maybe I'll finally have the cash and take the time - for a camera, for Italy, and for my abandoned online confessionals. In any case, there is something that I'm thankful for - that I am not alone in the whole mess. That after I do pick out the goddamn colors, there's someone, who will help me paint the walls.

Thanks, this does feel better.

Sunday, November 21, 2010





Saturday, September 18, 2010

For all the words I never said,
For all the moments that I never had,
For all the things that I could have packed,

I take no more than a moment.
Then never look back

Sunday, March 7, 2010

That was yesterday

Walking around the old neighborhood, and walking into another time. I meet some of the old neighbors and they ask me how I am. I say that I am doing fine, working and living the life in the big city. I don't say much but you can't really cram a few years into a 5 minute conversation.

I have coffee with a friend I grew up with, who is visiting from Denmark. Her parents still live in our old building though, and mine moved to another place. She looks good and doesn't think about coming back for more than visits and vacations, and I understand.

After that I decide to walk to my old school, just for kicks.

The paths that I walk seem strange and familiar, like I've been there but in another life. Like I have amnesia and don't really know where I am going but still know how to get there. I walk past the small smoke-filled cafes that Toni and I used to spend so much time in before and after school. We talked about what we were going to do once we were out of high school and the places that we would visit and the bar we would open on the beach. I don't remember what the name of that bar was but we were going to have live music at night. For sure.

I moved to another city and she moved to another country. Come to think of it, many of my friends did. My sister did too.

My old school doesn't look as old. They've done some work on it. It's totally empty because it's a Sunday. I curse at myself a little for not going there on Thursday or Friday. But maybe I've had enough trips down memory lane for me to meet my old teachers as well. Maybe next time.

As I stroll back to my parents' apartment I start counting. It's been almost 8 years since I graduated and, effectively, moved away. Tomorrow is my birthday, and I will spend it in another town. I will be 27 years old. But that's tomorrow.
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