frenzy
Trying to read...to distract myself...turning on the tv...there's nothing on...nothing that would snap me out of this frenzy i'm in...i walk up and down the room, hands on my head while i'm trying to breathe...my chest feels heavy...weighing me down...stop...i have to think this through...but i can't...the walls are closing in on me...i sit down on the floor, my legs folded under me and i lean foward as i exhale...it still hurts...it's too much...i try holding my breath...it's easier than i thought it would be...but the pressure is still there...and so is the pain...i can feel something wet and warm coming down my cheek...and i feel a glimpse of hope as i lick the salty tear drop from my lip...they're still there...something's still in me...a lingering piece of my soul, perhaps...but it was just a second of false hope...i know nothing is left in this ruined shell...nothing...my soul is long gone...i let it starve...treated it like an enemy...thought it would take the pain with it as it died away...i was wrong...the pain stayed...i move my head up and look around me...where am i anyways? when did the room become beyond recognizable? only four white walls...a wooden floor...it felt cold and hard under my fingers...didn't there use to be a carpet here? or was that in another life?...i get up slowly and look at my feet...i'm barefoot...my toenails painted red...as i move my foot to step forward i can feel sand between my toes...huh?...i look up again and have to look away quickly...it's too bright...it seems like i'm outside...but i don't hear anything except my heartbeat...my heartbeat...i still have a heartbeat...but do i still have a heart?...i feel that weight in my chest again and my head starts throbbing...i have to close my eyes...i suddenly feel like i'm falling...i hear a thud...but i don't feel anything....
Warum ist so wichtig das die Geschichte stehet auf Englisch ?
nije. jednostavno tako dođe. i onda mora izaći. a lakše je kad se podijeli. tj, kad znaš da je i tvoj trag out there. zato i nije bitno pišem li na engleskom ili na klingonskom. bitno je da da se sve to što se s vremenom nakupi u meni ne pretvara isključivo u teret koji mi ne da disati.
...
Eating chocolate and daydreaming about him...he brought too much chocolate into my life...but it feels so good...he surprizes me...over and over again...it's like he can see through me...sometimes he overwhelms me with the amount of energy he radiates...like Bjork said...he doesn't have to speak...i feel...i love the feeling part...i love the fact that he can feel me...and that the feeling can fill him up...he can be a brute...but my feelings reflect on him and he gets shy in a way...like a little kid...he has a firm male hand, but still needs encouraging sometimes...he wants to know that everything's ok, that i'm ok, that we'll be ok...he likes to use the word we a lot...he just blurts it out...naturally, nothing calculated...that's the way his mind functions when he thinks of this situation we've got ourselves into. he worries about whether i've eaten today...he hates my boss for me...why can't i separate him from the taste of chocolate?...what does it mean when someone tastes like chocolate?
srećo jesi to ti i ovdje? jubim teeeeeeeee
the feeling
I like that feeling.
I like the fact that I can feel it again.
The fact that I feel unworthy of him.
The fact that I like him when he makes a silly face.
The fact that I think his eyebrows give him character.
I like the fact that he likes art and appreciates jazz.
I like the fact that he likes to read.
I like the fact that he finds housework boring in a good way.
I like the fact that he likes pain.
I like the fact that he cares, that he has compassion.
I like the fact that he gives a damn about all the sad things happening around the world.
The fact that he likes kids.
The fact that he still has something childish in him.
The fact that he can create things with his hands.
I like the artist in him.
The fact that he understands and doesn't judge.
I like the fact that he listens.
I like seeing him smile.
I like making him happy.
I like him even when he makes bad jokes and uses corny phrases, and I actually think that's sweet.
The fact that I can be myself when I'm around him.
The fact that he'd be willing to cross half a dozen borders just to see me.
I like the fact that he likes cold feet.
The fact that things have meaning for him.
The fact that he honors friendship.
The fact that he likes chocolate.
The fact that he doesn't care if my ass is bigger than his.
The fact that he likes to light candles.
The fact that he calls his neighbor "the lady next door".
The fact that he makes me smile.
The fact that he uses all of his senses.
The fact that he cares about my needs too.
The fact that he can lift one eyebrow at a time.
The fact that he loves to travel and learn new things.
The fact that he thinks with his own head.
The fact that he can admit his mistake.
The fact that I always try to be my best when I'm with him.
man trouble
How to convince a man that he's not always right? Is there even any point in trying? Or should we succumb to their ego and let them think whatever makes them happy?
I never had problems with insecurity or jealousy in my past relationships. Usually, the men would be the ones who got jealous. Why is that? I don't know. Maybe they were just insecure...or maybe it was my fault...cause I always had a lot of male friends...or maybe guys just liked me more than I liked them...anyways...
I just don't get jealousy...If I don't trust people, I don't date them. Having a relationship is like an act of faith...when u get in, u check out all insecurity at the door...you have to believe it will work...or else...what's the point?
So, why do people get jealous? I mean, if the relationship doesn't work, you notice some signs from the other person, right? And that's before the person starts dating other people...cause I expect from a guy to tell me when sth is wrong...after all, sincerity is one of the pillars of a decent relationship. What's the point of being with someone if you can't talk to them, right?
So, you see, I have trouble understanding why men in my life tend to become jealous at some point anyways. I never do anything to make them feel that way.
Maybe they feel frightened by the fact that I'm generally a very independent, strong woman, who can take care of herself. So, when other guys hit on me, I'm perfectly able to say: not interested. We, women, have a personality of our own, u know?
And, secondly, I need my space from time to time. Anyone should be allowed to get out with their friends, even when they are in a relationship.
And, yeah...why are some men threatened by the fact that some women like sports, or even, god forbid, that some of them once actually played a sport and were good at it?
Are men really that conservative?
Wake up, men! The Flinstones are long dead!
I don't consider myself a feminist or something, but hey, I should be able to watch athletics on TV without getting weird looks from my guy, to take classes of kung-fu if I want and to take initiative in some situations if I feel like it.
And what makes this whole situation even more ironic is when things like these come out of the mouth of a man who's a professional cook, currently working as a secretary...
I rest my case.
I just don't understand men.
strangers
He's freaking out...and...he's freaking me out.
We...we...went too far...and now...there's no way back. We're stuck in the no man's land...stuck like two strangers who once knew each other...or, perhaps, two strangers that never got a chance to really know each other...an unusual thing, really...and we thought we were doing so well...
Strangers...I guess that's all we'll ever be. But it's hard to be a stranger to a person you thought you knew so well. It's hard to believe that everything was just a...lie?
Strangers...what makes us stop being strangers to someone?...a look?...a talk?...a kiss?...sex?...living together?...sharing a bed?...sharing secrets?...sharing your anger?...
Where do we draw the line?
That's the ultimate question. The lines seem completely blur to me lately. Are they even there? Cause I can't see them...But I can still feel them pressuring me from all sides...Is that what everyone feels?...or...is it just me?
I wonder...how do we trap those lines? How do we subdue them...to serve us? How do we stop being slaves to imaginary lines,boundaries established by...strangers, I guess?
Strangers...how do we stop being slaves to them?
...oh timelessly question...
There is nothing wrong with being strangers... A person often finds out to be a stranger to itself. The whole life is about getting to know better the people we live with. And that is never a finished job. What is important is the good will. There are really no lines around us if there is a good will.
super post...ne znam kaj da ti skomentiram na njega...:)...sry,al imam i ja novi postek pa bi bilo ok da svratis kad imas vremena,pozz
Rob u današnje vrijeme postaješ sama, a i sama donosiš odluku da više nećeš biti rob.... Teško je biti rob.. a i teško je otići. Prošlost je iza i kad shvatiš da je nešto naprijed.. gledat ćeš u to a ono ostaviti da bude prisutno iza... i da polako blijedi. Sjene proslosti nikako nisu jače od onog ispred... Pogledaj i ODLUČI!
Ej,evo me opet malo do tebe...imam novi post pa svrati,a i ti napisi novi,kad stignes jer nemam vise kaj za citat:)...pozz
Ovo me podsjetilo na moja prijateljstva iz srednje. Provodila sam puno vremena sa istim ljudima i zvala sam ih prijateljima, a sada kad se toga sjetim shvaćam da su mi bili totalni stranci, i da naši prijateljski osjećaji nisu ležali na djelima.
---
All men are pigs...I'd like to believe so...cause then it wouldn't hurt so much...it would be easier that way...
The thing is...he is not one of them...he's the only one that makes me sad...only he can get through to me...
I cannot despise him...I cannot forget him...and I know he'll be back like nothing happened...he'll be the old wonderful self...sweeping me off my feet all over again...
And somewhere deep inside...I want him to do it...cause I can't even remember what my life was like before I met him...
Was I even alive?...or did he breathe life into my lungs?...gave me something worth living for?...and if he did, why is he constantly taking it away?...
I don't like this game...but I'm addicted to it...
...
He's like an addiction...
The more I get to know him...the more I want to know about him...
I just don't wanna let go...
I could listen to him speak for hours...
I could lie in his arms forever...
My new drug...and he's not even bad for my health...
just do it
Getting a life. Working on it. Too much to do.
But it feels good. It still feels good.
He makes it worth while.
I thought it could never happen again. And it might not. But there's a fair chance it will.
It's all about trusting people. And I think I can do it now.
It sets you free in a way. It's not all your fault. You can share it.
It all comes down to trusting yourself.
I don't want to make conclusions about betrayal and fidelity, cause there are different types of both.
You just have to feel good about yourself and the other person.
It actually is as simple as that.
If you want something, you ask for it. There's a good chance you'll get it.
If you want to say something, say it. There's a good chance that someone needs to hear it.
If you want to do something, do it. There's a good chance that you'll regret it someday, but only for a moment.
There's a potentially wonderful world out there. You have to discover it.
I'm doing it as we speak...
Go out there. Take the first step. It only gets easier from that point on.
I couldn't agree more. It does all come down to trusting yourself. And you've written it so wonderfully.
one in a billion
i cannot even describe how i feel...it's intense...elation...disappointment...want...obsession...
didn't want it to be this way...i didn't expect him to be so fucking perfect...nice...caring...polite...sensual...a man who made me feel good about myself...like no one before him could...
he was...that tingling feeling i had when i went to bed at night...he was...the hand that knew every hidden recess of my skin...he was...the eye that knew what color was my day...he was...the water that washed away my sins...he was...different
...now he isn't...he IS NO MORE...
Ej,ne zam dal se sjecas,ali prije mso si kement ostavljali...ja sad ostavljam svima od kak sam blog počela pisat,samo sam ti se htela javit...poZz...navrati ak imas vremena
P.S. Svida mi se kaj pišeš na engleskom,zakon
what makes this life worth living
Najbolje male stvari u životu:
miris vruće kave
toplina sunca na licu
ljetnja kiša
spavati do podneva nedjeljom
muške ruke
vrući tuš
voda
muzika
boje
miris tek pokošene trave
šetnja parkom u proljeće
zagrljaj
čokolada
kad ti mama skuha juhu kad se vratiš s putovanja
kad usrećiš nekoga
snijeg za Božić
osmijeh potpunog stranca na ulici...
i sve ostale divne nenadane male stvari...
da se to sve bar ostvari u našim životima...
