HelluvaGirl

This is not a diary any more

Black and Gold

Hans, My Hedgehog

I can’t believe I found my all-time favourite fairy-tale film… Gosh, such production doesn’t even exist these days, and some would say thank God – but it’s my childhood memory that doesn’t even invite nano-3D miracles for competition.  Read the rest of this entry »

Eliziejaus laukai / Elysian Fields

Never been

To the island of the blessed

Didn’t see the winemakers

Didn’t smell the jasmines didn’t pick

Olives didn’t put to wineskins

 

The sun didn’t burn

Wind didn’t wail

Didn’t shower the rain

Earth didn’t carry

 

Never been

To the island of the cursed

Didn’t see the poison makers

Didn’t caress the blade buried not

Copper axe in the earth

 

The sun didn’t burn

Wind didn’t wail

Didn’t shower the rain

Earth didn’t carry

 

The sun didn’t burn

Wind didn’t wail

Didn’t shower the rain

Earth didn’t carry

 

The sea didn’t bathe

Fire didn’t touch

Didn’t welcome the abyss

Earth didn’t carry

 

Salvation

3.30 am. We sit on the sofa, feet up; she says, wanna hear the song I’ve been playing on repeat?

We listen smiling and she goes, hey wait this could totally be your song, too!

And I’m like, yeah…

On Anxiety Treatment for the Best Reasons

My close friends know the one anxiety I have – apart from anything related to marriage: it’s getting lost.

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On Helluvagrey Nothingness

I know I’ve been here but every time it looks like a new place: no exit, nothing to take hold of, eternal.

Yes, I am in that transition period.

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Pretty Hurts

Sometimes I listen to my own pep talk of self-awareness, well-managed expectations and being cool about the universal flow that flows away from me, and think I’m just so full of it.

You often say I’m much more rational and composed than you but I suspect we both understand it’s mere etiquette and my #glassmountain

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4.30 am

there’s nothing like driving empty streets

the sky inviting daylight

no cars to overtake

just chet and me

feels like a film

where i play

someone

i want

to be

On Being a Writer

I met her in the beauty salon. It appears we have been going to the same Hairstylist for years.

She sat in an adjacent chair and was having her roots done while reading her Kindle. I was skimming through glance magazines – the beauty salon is the place for me to catch up on the latest gossip free of charge as I don’t buy it anyway, and to look for acquaintances on the last pages.

The Hairstylist made some tea.

Have a candy.

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Because

The change is ongoing.

Even when we speak truths less pleasant than the regular small talk, they do not disrupt our connection. Read the rest of this entry »