Wednesday, November 7, 2012


There are things about me, things you don’t know. There are habits – good and bad, that I never want to let go. There are things I’ll never stop doing and there are dreams I’ll always be dreaming.
Sometimes I close my eyes in the middle of the day and picture myself incredibly happy and then for a moment, I actually believe it. At certain times during the day, I make wishes, wishes that no one knows. Sometimes I keep wishing for the same thing until it comes true. When I walk the streets alone, I stare into windows and imagine who’s living there, what kind of life they have. I imagine their stories and their secrets until I almost believe it.
Whenever I see a couple or a family, I wonder, how it started for them, their first date, first kiss. Did they fell in love instantly? Or are they in love at all? Sometimes I think of old people, of their lost youth, past lovers and their regrets. I wonder if they’re happy, I wonder if they’re lonely. Maybe they’ve got a big, loving family, maybe they don’t have anyone, anyone at all. They used to be young, they used to be like us – They used to be us. Once a conversation with an old lady opened my eyes, made me understand that I have to take risks, I have to do what I believe in, I have to follow my heart. She had this pain in her heart – the lost love of her life. Is it true that you can truly love just once? And that you understand that only at the end? And what is the end exactly? Does life ends with the death of our body?
Sometimes I make up my own theories about things, about life and how nature works. Sometimes I think of the universe and the fact that it will shrink one day and everything will be lost, I can’t quite realize the thought of it.
There are times when I wonder of how things used to be. How people lived years ago and how the world looked like without all these cities and these roads. Other times I wonder of what I’m capable of. Could I leave everything and live alone in the mountains? Could I dedicate my whole existence unselfishly for something I believe in?
There are things I do that annoy other people. I have to sniff everything I eat. I sniff a lot of things, and I associate scents and perfumes with certain things and people. I love the smell of fresh paint, nail polish, new electronics and rubber. Sometimes I smell something I can’t recognize, but it reminds me of a certain memory or an emotion, brings me back to childhood. And sometimes because of a perfume I start liking or disliking someone.
There’s a lot of what I do that could be described as unnecessary or a waste of time. But it’s what makes me feel like me. Sometimes I overthink everything, sometimes I don’t think at all.
Well, this is me – the real me.

Monday, October 8, 2012


Have you ever felt unhappy although everything seems to be ok? Have you ever felt as if you're loosing control of your life? Have you ever understood that what you're doing is not what you want to do at all? Well, I have. I do.
I'm not myself lately. I keep feeling trapped and emotionally uncomfortable. I feel distant. I worked for something so much and saw my dream crash in front of me, so I had to come up with another plan. And the way this plan has been going does not satisfy me at all. Something that I thought I wanted is actually the complete opposite. Every day when I get up for work I have to wear this mask, I have to pretend, I have to lie. I have to hear countless accusations that I disagree with. And after a few months, I now understand how much I hate what I do. How much I hate my work.
I want to take control, I want to change things, I want a fresh start. You see, I'm a perfectionist and it's my curse. I can't feel happy unless everything's perfect, unless things are going my way, unless I'm loved and cared about. I find calmness in perfection. And it's something I hate about myself, because how many days have been perfect actually? A few. So can I say I'm a happy person?
Some say that things don't have to be perfect to be beautiful. Others say that perfect is boring. One of the definitions for perfection is 'a quality, trait, feature of the highest degree of excellence'. But what do I think of perfection? I think that perfection is when you do what you love, when you have high goals, when you love someone and you're being loved. That's perfection and it makes me happy. It'll all be perfect, it has to be.

Monday, July 16, 2012


I've been busy for a while, I still am. Busy with taking hold of my life, cause it was going a direction I hadn't planned, hadn't wanted. I always thought of myself as decisive, but now I see that I'm not. I can't make a simple choice. Well, but maybe the choices aren't that simple.
It's as if one part of my life has ended and from swimming in the pool I've moved to the sea. People are expecting so much from me, and I can't let them down. If I do that - I'm finished, my chance would be over. It's my philosophy of life that the choices you make define who you are and who you'll be in the future. And here I am, not being able to make a choice, not being able to say 'No'. So I remain silent.
We should choose wisely who we trust, who we tell our plans. And for that matter, I'm gonna shut my mouth a little.
And I understand that I can't run away from such decisions, but I'm still doing it, avoiding my problems, putting them aside, as if it was a solution.
It's not.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

The City

It was one of those nights when the whole city felt alive. As I walked in the darkness through the misty rain, I felt the city breathing. It breathed in a peaceful rhythm and as the fresh night air stroked my skin, I knew the city was alive. I could hear its heartbeats in every little raindrop hitting the dark pavement. And in this early hour I was all alone on the lantern-lit streets. And so the city walked with me. It knew where I was going, it came to say goodbye. It came to wish me luck. And I knew right then that this city will miss me, I'm its friend. And when I stood under the glass-tile roof, I could see the citys energy vibing from the ground, going upwards - towards the rain. The city was crying when I left, I whispered 'I'm not leaving you, not just jet.'

Thursday, April 12, 2012

It's different

You know what? It's all changed. Everything. It's so different from what I expected. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. It's not me in the mirror, it's not me in my skin. It's a stranger. I've gone so far that I don't even recognize myself anymore. How did this happen? How did everything happen?
Life is like a train. And it feels like mine is going too fast and it has no driver. I should take the wheel in my hands and take control. But I don't. I'm letting the train go fast-forward while I'm sitting alone in the backseat. I don't want it to crash, but I'm afraid that might happen.
The things that used to matter to me are now gone. Sometimes I just don't know what I'm doing. And every day I have no clue of what's going to happen next. I'm afraid of letting go of the things that mean the most to me. I'm afraid of not living up to my full potential.
It's just different.
But if I'm still capable of writing this, then I know - it's me. Deep down behind the fake smile it's still me you're looking at.