Disclaimer: This is a personal experience of a novice in Vipassana, presented as a series of insights, not an attempt to render advice or explain the technique in full extent, and should not be taken as guidance or a comprehensive course report.
***
The next morning everyone is cleaning up before departing. There’s a number of volunteers who stay to remove the covers of the meditation mats, fold the ropes parting male and female territories, clean up and load the stuff to be stored away in designated cars. I broom the floor in our cottage and help out here and there.
Read the rest of this entry »
Disclaimer: This is a personal experience of a novice in Vipassana, presented as a series of insights, not an attempt to render advice or explain the technique in full extent, and should not be taken as guidance or a comprehensive course report.
***
I approach him as he watches the serene sunset. There’s a girl lying curled up on the grass nearby.
I smoothly smile him into a small talk. I’ve learned those things pretty well. I can approach people in the right way – if I’m willing, that is. Otherwise – well, most of the time – I am perceived as #thecoldbitch
We share our impressions. Talk about takeaways. He sounds so normal – in a good way. And before we know it, the small talk turns into quite a deep conversation.
Read the rest of this entry »
Disclaimer: This is a personal experience of a novice in Vipassana, presented as a series of insights, not an attempt to render advice or explain the technique in full extent, and should not be taken as guidance or a comprehensive course report.
***
I’ve noticed her on the first day and realised it was really her when we weren’t supposed to speak any more. She would sit right behind me in the Meditation Hall. The last person I could expect to meet here.
She excuses herself from a conversation and comes up to me. We laugh – without a reason, or just instead of saying hey, I’ve been trying to not look at you this whole time, how ridiculous that we meet here of all the places…
So tell me, what’s wrong with YOUR life that you are here?
Read the rest of this entry »
Disclaimer: This is a personal experience of a novice in Vipassana, presented as a series of insights, not an attempt to render advice or explain the technique in full extent, and should not be taken as guidance or a comprehensive course report.
***
On the last day they teach us metta bhavana. It appears to be a meditation I have been practicing for years without even knowing it had a name. I love it; it is truly my favourite part of Vipassana practice and gives meaning to it, connecting the individual path to enlightenment with the fact that we are all cells in one organism, and thus erasing the isolation aspect personal development kinda naturally entails.
When we finish our morning meditation, the Teachers announce the end of the Noble Silence.
I must tell you this: few times have I been as surprised throughout my entire life.
Read the rest of this entry »
Disclaimer: This is a personal experience of a novice in Vipassana, presented as a series of insights, not an attempt to render advice or explain the technique in full extent, and should not be taken as guidance or a comprehensive course report.
***
As May unfolds, the sun begins to play around and I take my blanket out on the grass for a nap. All the other girls have been doing it for days now, but the weather is too cold for me, the ground is too hard and the air too noisy with all the flies. However, when it becomes warmer outside than in my cell, I give this nature thing a shot.
Read the rest of this entry »
Disclaimer: This is a personal experience of a novice in Vipassana, presented as a series of insights, not an attempt to render advice or explain the technique in full extent, and should not be taken as guidance or a comprehensive course report.
***
get up at 4 am
briskly throw on the clothes folded out the night before
wait for the two minutes to brush the teeth in the bathroom
Read the rest of this entry »
Disclaimer: This is a personal experience of a novice in Vipassana, presented as a series of insights, not an attempt to render advice or explain the technique in full extent, and should not be taken as guidance or a comprehensive course report.
***
I wanna do something.
I wanna change things.
Like, myself.
I can feel the time sifting through me, and all that remains is someone I hardly identify with. It’s been forever like this.
You might think I levitate in our dim meditation hall, feeding off the spiritual energy of my fellow travellers, seeing otherworldly visions and chanting mantras? Well, a bit of that, too.
But what I in fact meticulously consider for no fewer than two whole days is which should I do first:
Read the rest of this entry »
Disclaimer: This is a personal experience of a novice in Vipassana, presented as a series of insights, not an attempt to render advice or explain the technique in full extent, and should not be taken as guidance or a comprehensive course report.
***
For the past couple of years, I’ve been having an inner struggle coming to terms with what I do for a living. I use a very small part of my potential. For a long while I’ve been touching the ceiling of what is expected from/available for me. Whenever someone asks me what I do in life, I pause and think about the essence of the question, guessing if I should just tell the name of the company (sounds good), or explain what I’m good at.
After several days of silent contemplations I come to the point where all the bullshit dissipates and I realise I’m doing what I can before I can do what I want. And thinking towards that direction, I feel that work isn’t my primary concern at all.
Read the rest of this entry »
Disclaimer: This is a personal experience of a novice in Vipassana, presented as a series of insights, not an attempt to render advice or explain the technique in full extent, and should not be taken as guidance or a comprehensive course report.
***
I notice him on the first day while waiting near the cabin to talk to the Teachers. He is walking across the meadow carrying a huge backpack. A woman is strolling to the opposite direction and, as they meet at the rope marking the end of the moving zone, she stops, ready to lift her leg and cross over. He bends forward and presses the rope to the ground, looking up at her in silence. She doesn’t notice for a second and then, looking down, says in a cheerful voice:
Oh, that’s how we do it.
It is almost a question, coming from someone living in the world where gallantry is not taken for granted any more.
Read the rest of this entry »
Disclaimer: This is a personal experience of a novice in Vipassana, presented as a series of insights, not an attempt to render advice or explain the technique in full extent, and should not be taken as guidance or a comprehensive course report.
***
As I sit in the meditation hall for hours and hours each day, I notice that the leg of the stool between my shoulder blades begins to feel different. The blunt pain inhabiting the depths inside my muscles surfaces on the skin and starts feeling like my back is seared with a lighter. This pain is on my outline, not at my core any more, and I can even find a certain pleasure in that physical sensation.
Read the rest of this entry »
Disclaimer: This is a personal experience of a novice in Vipassana, presented as a series of insights, not an attempt to render advice or explain the technique in full extent, and should not be taken as guidance or a comprehensive course report.
***
On the fourth day, we begin to practice the real Vipassana. For two hours straight, we sit addhitana – a meditation of strong will, during which one is determined to not move, change position, open their eyes, arms and legs.
This is the time I scream fuck it, I’m outta here! in my mind, terrified of the intensity of sensations I am supposed to merely observe.
Read the rest of this entry »
Disclaimer: This is a personal experience of a novice in Vipassana, presented as a series of insights, not an attempt to render advice or explain the technique in full extent, and should not be taken as guidance or a comprehensive course report.
***
And then come the dreams.
There’s a whole world, and not just one.
I dream agoraphobic squares in strange cities where there is no sign of people. I dream backyards where the air whispers threatening promises. I dream piers in secluded townships. Wherever I go, there is always a thick sense of something watching me intently.
Read the rest of this entry »
Disclaimer: This is a personal experience of a novice in Vipassana, presented as a series of insights, not an attempt to render advice or explain the technique in full extent, and should not be taken as guidance or a comprehensive course report.
***
Funny how many questions arise when you have to live with a person you’ve never met before, in a tiny room, without speaking.
Does she want me to leave the light? Do I turn off the heater now? And when am I supposed to shower? The bathroom shared by our whole floor is always busy.
Wonder who she is, though. Is her husband with the male group here? Must be like 7 months pregnant. Probably some vegan yoga teacher who will deliver her baby in a shrine with scented candles and mantras.
Read the rest of this entry »
Disclaimer: This is a personal experience of a novice in Vipassana, presented as a series of insights, not an attempt to render advice or explain the technique in full extent, and should not be taken as guidance or a comprehensive course report.
***
For the first three days, we just observe our breath. It is not required to sit in lotus posture, but important to keep the back straight.
Whatever posture I choose, it still hurts like hell. Feels like the leg of a stool is rammed in between my shoulder blades.
Read the rest of this entry »
Disclaimer: This is a personal experience of a novice in Vipassana, presented as a series of insights, not an attempt to render advice or explain the technique in full extent, and should not be taken as guidance or a comprehensive course report.
***
There’s a bunch of peculiar specimen at the registration tent. The types who cut their own hair, you know. Standing in the queue, I can sense some women wearing perfume, although it has been, among other things, specifically requested not to.
It annoys me a bit that we have to fill in the questionnaires once again, same ones we’ve completed online. I write half of the truth in the health section and get stuck at What’s your profession? After taking it too seriously for a while, my answer is WORDS.
Read the rest of this entry »
Disclaimer: This is a personal experience of a novice in Vipassana, presented as a series of insights, not an attempt to render advice or explain the technique in full extent, and should not be taken as guidance or a comprehensive course report.
***
I can clearly sense his disapproval from short texts which, in seconds of trying to “shut up”, become messages of open concern. I smile. He must have been my father in the past life.
Why so long? Why 10 days instead of 3, which would be way more reasonable, given the “brutal” conditions? It’s as if you start running a marathon without any preparation and experience of running, he says.
Friend knows my rough patches. Some of them vaguely, some of them – in quite a detail. He must think I am desperately seeking a hideout. An exotic shortcut to a new me.
Read the rest of this entry »
Minutes before I leave to Vipassana retreat, I take the food from the fridge and give away to neighbours (I just hate to throw it out).
Doing the dishes, I suddenly realise why I feel so calm and confident about the next 10 days of isolation and, as Friend put it today, sensorial deprivation.
Read the rest of this entry »
What’s the best thing about a song? It presses certain emotional buttons, triggers associations and generally stimulates one’s imagination.
When I hear this song, I’m suddenly a teenager in love, with the whole world a promise, and the fact that Donny Montell has his looks makes my mind go this exciting path like it’s a walk in the park.
However, another remarkable thing is the official video of this hit and the choice of the female character. You look into her face – a party girl with the touch of femme fatale. Ok. Then the camera slides down and you’re like, wow what? She is sooo not a Barbie doll! Those are expected but never imprint for a long time in your memory. This one is not perfect – and just perfect that way. I believe this choice of cast was a very well-calculated move of Donny’s production and PR teams, and it’s a winning one. In the world of enforcing hardly-attainable body-image time and again – though hypocritically preaching against unrealistic standards – this girl tells us great nights happen even if you are plus size. And it’s not even a lie.
Let me just feel proud once again to witness Donny’s talent – he surely owns it!
So last night we had Best Friend’s farewell party. We did everything we said we wouldn’t, like going to the plastic fantastic Mojo club and ending up on a bench eating Hesburger’s… I know – how low can you go? I can go to Hesburger and not even feel bad about it!
But I want to tell you something amazing that happened last night.
Read the rest of this entry »
So I come to the office thinking how I’m gonna tell him that I did something stupid last night, that I got some rags and a bra and felt it was such a lame birthday present to use daddy’s money for, so in the end I went on and bought those pretty plane tickets and how I’m gonna eat cottage cheese for months on end now because I’m poor (35 year-old woman speaking…).
But he wasn’t there.
And then it struck me he wouldn’t be there before I go to Vipassana next week, and when I come back he’s gonna be somewhere else for good.
Read the rest of this entry »
I was asked what I wanted for my birthday. It got me thinking what I want generally and most of all.
1. I want to be where my home is. I want to feel that, where I am, is the place. Not where somebody else is. Ok, so I guess I want my home to be where I am, although a crib in sunny Barcelona wouldn’t hurt #soconsistent
Read the rest of this entry »
I have considered Sagrada Familia as one of the commercialised tourists spots. Having entered it, I realised it was a sight everyone should experience at least once in their lifetime. Not only as a masterpiece of design – great design gets me weak at the knees any day. But it’s also about the vastness of one’s imagination, and the bravery to employ a number of people, loads of materials and decades of time to make it reality. I’ve never had a fraction of that drive but always feel happy to witness in somebody else.
We looked around and then sat in the area for praying.
Read the rest of this entry »
We have 30 minutes till our visit to Sagrada Familia. I take Pia to Placa de Gaudi where she instantly starts playing with the sand. I sit on a bench and ask a guy there whether it’s ok if I smoke. He puts away his book and says he is a smoker, too, thanks for asking. Where am I from? Ah, Lithuania. Welcome to Barcelona.
He asks what traditional Lithuanian food is and perhaps I could write the name down so he could look up. He gives me a neat notebook and a pen. I write half of the cepelinai recipe, including the vegetarian version.
Read the rest of this entry »
I wanted this holiday to be easy-going. No excessive planning in advance (though I did a bit of homework, inevitably), no strict abidance to the plan and no consequential stress.
Happy to say it works. I just notice situations where I would begin to get nervous or hurry and I just don’t.
We went to the beach with Pia – it was quite a long walk for her via La Barcelonetta.
Read the rest of this entry »
I always knew I’d love Barcelona.
I mean I’m a fan of cinema, and what the spectacularly-directed sights of the city in Vicky Christina Barcelona didn’t do, Javier Bardem did. And the spicy yet paradoxically idealistic although too real ménage à trois. And Christina’s phrase at the end, on the escalator:
I don’t know what I want.
Read the rest of this entry »
It was a beautiful spring night a year ago.
Mrs. Nielsen was visiting. We soaked ourselves in booze, got into adventures all over Lithuania and had the time of our lives, as it happens when we hook up with her.
That night, we went to a concert at the National Philharmonic Hall.
Read the rest of this entry »
She loved how easily things would fall into places when they were next to each other.
How she could actually fall asleep with him. Not just in the same bed but in his arms. And in the middle of the night, as she would move in her sleep, his first instinct was not to release her from his embrace but to pull her closer. And his shoulder never got tired from her head, or his arms never needed rest from holding her.
Read the rest of this entry »
It’s another time of year that Lover rediscovers my phone number.
As I have decided to quit our usual drill a while ago – because if anything could’ve happened, it would’ve in 12 years, right? – I don’t pick up tonight. He thinks I’m partying again. On second thought, I text him.
To be honest, I feel like shit. Not because hungover. Got some bad news. Sorry for not being up for a conversation. One of those days…
Read the rest of this entry »
Once upon a time, there were two planets.
One inhabited by a race who lived in harmony with one another, sharing love and intimacy, the feeling of belonging, and their hearts were bare. They trusted each other with the depths of their mind, enjoyed being together and lived in large flocks like tender, affectionate birds.
Read the rest of this entry »
We were taking a night hike in the woods. 20 people, backpacks and a point B we could reach in three hours, if lucky, or never, depending on the map readers’ skill.
In the experiential training we got team tasks, like reaching an agreed destination point, meeting the second group, giving them a non-material present, exchanging routes and walking back, without maps this time, just relying on the traces the other group has left on their way.
Read the rest of this entry »
There are loves that leave you out of balance.
Loves that make you smile years after they pass.
The ones you chat about with old friends.
The others that are better forgotten.
And I think some people, once in their lifetime, find themselves in a firestorm of unearthly nature.
Read the rest of this entry »
After watching a portion of this video I had a strange dream.
***
My whole life, experiencing the loss identity I’d feel like shit. I used to be so convinced I was supposed to be something. Clear-cut. Turns out I should’ve revelled in this state of in-between, in the grey nothingness I’ve known so well.
Read the rest of this entry »
Do you remember this?
She turns up the volume.
***
The funeral home is full of familiar faces. People looking around, recognising each other, coming up and speaking in low voices.
One of the girls, his friend’s wife, stands in front of me and says:
There was a woman. He did this because of her. It was complicated, they say. Nobody has seen her, though. I wonder if she’s here.
Read the rest of this entry »
There are two types of reactions I get when I tell someone I don’t have a Facebook account:
Last night it got to me, to be totally frank with you.
Read the rest of this entry »
…and I have known the most vivacious of emotions – raging fire, burning ice, torrential water, scorched earth…. and yet they are all tame when compared to the glow of the moon and a gentle, yet unassuming, spark in the dead of night. Stars peppering the heavens again… Such is the power it has over me.
I am here. Stretching my pale arm across the universe towards the side I once left you be.
Read the rest of this entry »
I flew away, leaving the ocean behind my back. Its endless surface was glimmering at the perennial moonshine, covered by vast comforting darkness, undisturbed by human sounds or the wind.
The smell of the sea – it follows you no matter how far away you go. It lingers on your skin and drenches into your spirit.
Read the rest of this entry »
I took a little risk this morning.
My car insurance had expired last night and the girl was supposed to email me the papers today some time before noon.
I could’ve bothered to take a bus. It would’ve been a longer and much more inconvenient journey to work, albeit not involving the risk of getting into an accident and having to cover the costs out of my own pocket because my car wouldn’t be insured for those several hours.
Read the rest of this entry »
There are people in our lives who eventually turn into concepts ingrained in our core. Their lives apart from us blend into our soul and add another shade to our identity. Their history is ever-present in the way we look at things, like a one-of colour in our sentiment. They saturate our perception. And there is no past tense for this.
After all the words, I feel I owe you silence.
Always been convinced I was special to you in certain ways. The only one. In several aspects.
Beginning to see I am not – do I dramatise it? Hm… I guess no sense. I’m just surprised how perfectly life draws a veil on our perception and timely conceals certain shades of reality from our judgement.
Read the rest of this entry »
You’ll see, one day you’ll smile at your child and tell her you are so loving because you didn’t get everything you wanted.
I was driving home, feeling nauseous. The sun was finally showing off, painting rainbows on leaden skies. A rare guest this spring, she acts like a schoolgirl skipping class.
Read the rest of this entry »
I want to take a moment to say how grateful I am to be remembered by every single person today who is very important to me and whose attention is a gift in itself.
Like everyone else I enjoy a warm word and a kind wish on a birthday. It’s even more cool of you to reach me not being conveniently available on Facebook, not throwing a party or reminding of myself in any other way.
You made me think this is the best I could wish for. You made my day fulfilling and me truly happy.
The small things, huh. Never underestimate those.
I have this poppy red lipstick that makes me want to have a job where it should be a uniform. Like a pencil skirt to a stewardess. Or a tie to a banker.
It makes me a different person as soon as I put it on – it makes me me.
Unfortunately, every single day I slip into something pastel and the most daring thing to allow myself is a feline flick. A modest one.
However, when I go out, I put the poppy red on my lips and find it the best accessory to my biker jacket and everything else black.
Read the rest of this entry »
The day before
you love an illusion
don’t you see how you’re just filling a gap
it is a ridiculous waste of life
he would’ve been here by now if he wanted
you have to close one door for another to open
unless, of course, you don’t want a relationship?
All is true. And it’s a legitimate question. I can remember well the times when I said I wanted but did everything for it to not happen. I must be more consistent and conscious by now. Am I hiding behind this demeaning situation? Perhaps it is more convenient to me than it is draining?
Read the rest of this entry »
It all starts with blueberry jam.
Pia’s recently discovered it with her oatmeal porridge.
You know, Love, when I was a kid, my parents and Mother Grandmother would make jam at home. They would pick buckets of berries, take a huge pot and cook it with sugar.
Why wouldn’t they buy it in a shop like we do?
Because there weren’t products like these in shops at that time.
Why?
Read the rest of this entry »
Since I was a teenager, this song would arise very strong emotive associations which I’ve never tried to put into words before.
Tearing longing; feelings that outlast relationships or people, tragedies or impossibility; being left alone without a choice but to love…
Have you ever experienced strong feelings that were sort of… not yours?
Read the rest of this entry »
This is how I live. This is how I love. This is mine.
***
Before his death, my Grandfather would spend his days lying in bed. Sometimes, I’d come into his room, sit beside and watch his face. The hazy look, wandering some distant terrains, as he was already on his way. I felt he could tell me something, reveal secrets I wouldn’t know, so I would lean in and ask him:
Read the rest of this entry »
Your words. The ones I wanted to hear.
The ones I was meaning to say to you.
Not to write – I thought some of them ought to be said looking into the eyes before they were written in letters.
I thought if this superstition was disregarded, the higher powers would close the roads that lead us to each other, sink the ships we sail in the high seas, and the tiniest chance of our crossing paths again would be gone forever.
Read the rest of this entry »
Everyone is gone. I’m alone in the room, in a ghost-like building that once must have been a busy place.
As I tick off the tasks of the day before leaving, my eyes slide to a phone number.
Why wait for Tuesday? They said a week but I’ll try today.
What’s your surname again? I can’t hear you well enough. Ah, yes – the results are ready.
Read the rest of this entry »
Don’t ask me why or how, but once upon a winter my schoolmate persuaded me to join her on a visit to a fortune-teller.
It was an old lady who accepted whatever you gave her for a fee.
My girlfriend, one of those golden kids from a loving and functional family, owning a beautiful house, a sunny smile and hair to die for, listened as the fortune-teller promised her a university, a nice boyfriend, a strong family and a good life.
Read the rest of this entry »
With the geopolitical tension continuously rising, I often think about what lies ahead.
I have always been so afraid of war that when Ukraine events broke out, I began thinking where I would flee in case Russian aggression continued to move further. Mrs. Nielsen assured in the most serious manner she would have a refugee camp in her backyard if shit hit the fan. Seriously speaking, I don’t believe we would have time and means to fly away in the outbreak of war, but it was good to know someone would be waiting for me somewhere safe.
Read the rest of this entry »
I am glad we have a long drive ahead.
Going on a trip by car is one of the best things in the world: you live the anticipation of arriving but even more pleasurable is the feeling of in between. You are not where you were, but yet neither where you’re bound to. It’s like hanging nowhere. I fell in love with this state of transition taking trains to see My Second First Love when we were 18.
Read the rest of this entry »
I keep wondering when those questions will run out… Why drag the subject to and fro? It has never been a matter of making a step, not for one of us, so why linger on something as empty?
Some of the above questions are addressed to myself, too (is that you or me talking?).
Victims are too comfortable in their own shoes.
Read the rest of this entry »
In a huge bell that is not moved, its ringing subsided, you still see the nature of sound within, and sense its longing to be awoken. The bell is only alive when it’s ringing. The rest of the time it is but the memory of sound, persistent vibration in between the swings.
Read the rest of this entry »
Whenever you are in pain or feel sad, remember it’s just your surface, Love. Instead of sinking in your sorrow, go looking for a place of light and happiness, where there’s no disease and anguish, where there’s only beauty and fulfilment, and Love.
I rock her on my lap, pressing my cold cheek to her feverish forehead.
Read the rest of this entry »
There was light music in the background. People were talking, trying to get a drink, watching others, going to the loo, flirting.
I was standing next to Girlfriend as we both were silent for a while. She is someone I can afford to be silent with.
And then time started rolling in a funny way. It didn’t slow down but it felt like light made of rubber*. I felt I was slipping into faces and things, drenching into everything. I watched people around me as the most astonishing feeling overtook me:
Read the rest of this entry »
I look at couples as if they lived on the planet called Mutuality, and I was hanging in outer space, watching the strange species, feeling slightly sick.
I flinch hearing those people say the word “soulmate”. Do they even know the meaning of the word? It feels like nobody knows it but me. And I wish they didn’t find out.
Read the rest of this entry »
His eyes are warm. Smiling. Curious.
He takes a few glimpses at my face and I can see those eyes light up. They are captivated, passionate, demanding. At some point, as I sit looking at him, he shakes his head, excited.
You inspire me.
His hand swiftly moves as he sketches.
Read the rest of this entry »
In hindsight, all those songs used to be woven with unacknowledged hope and thrilling expectation of what the future would bring.
Now they make me sad. No, I haven’t lost my way of faith: I will continue passionately until I have no passions. But I get very sad sometimes still.
Read the rest of this entry »
So it appears I live in a huge place filled with deafening silence.
So much air…
The clouds herded by strong wind, the whole world outside the window and inside, right where I am. And it does feel like spring in the beginning of January, it does.
An echo of a feeling. Just an echo. Almost not there.
Read the rest of this entry »
When he holds me, I can feel his whole body slightly shiver. When he touches me with his hand, I get a strange feeling: as if some kind of energy is streaming into me. As if that point of physical contact is charged with some… presence. Never tried Reiki but imagine it’s something like that?
And… I know saying this makes me crazy but
Read the rest of this entry »
We go ice-skating with the kids.
Pia remembers A from last summer when the four of us went to Bernardinai park together – they totally clicked. A looked after her on the playground as me and him were catching up on the bench, watching them from a distance. The children went hysterical in the car, making up poems with swear words, screaming with laughter as he brought us home.
She asked me recently “when we were going to see that big boy again” and now was really excited to learn that we were meeting up for an adventure – I have ice-skated when I was Pia’s age; she has never done it before.
Read the rest of this entry »
All of us are shells: different faces, names, appearances… But inside, we are all the same.
I used to be quite good at redirecting feelings from one shell to another.
Another thing I gave up. Seem to be brilliantly losing some of my firmly ingrained skills.
I guess this is how it is now.
There’s a meadow in front of my living room window. A large green area separating my block of flats and a church.
I can see the white cross on its rooftop whenever I raise my eyes from the dining table or smoke on the balcony, ever negotiating with my demons.
One Sunday in summer I woke up and heard something piercing the air outside the drawn curtains of the bedroom.
Read the rest of this entry »
In the course of unfavourable events, a full stop is a solution required by a person who is unable to endure heartache.
It only makes sense why there have been so many full stops in my relationships and endeavours so far.
On one hand, I want to make the “right” decisions: be decent, non-interfering and honest; on the other – shutting myself out from something or someone, causing me to see that life is not primarily about the realisation of my personal wishes, does not stimulate my development.
Read the rest of this entry »
I comb my mind, looking for the manifestations of lethal attachments having consumed me entirely, and I let everything go, breathing it out.
I give myself lengthy lectures on my personal wishes being secondary, whilst the destined course of events, the divine plan primary and definitely not something to try and eliminate with a sack of explosives when the head fails to break the wall.
Read the rest of this entry »
I believe it is pretty difficult for many to tell Love from a delicious mash of desire, pleasure and fantasy. Sometimes we stick to the make-believe so much that we tear ourselves apart chasing an illusion, a reflection of our own ego. We choose to be tortured by a deformed concept that has nothing to do with the sustainable peace, the potential of which is a given. The Love we are born from and return to when we die is something that can never be exhausted or disrupted.
Unless, of course, we refuse to cultivate it making use of every occasion, and by occasion I mean the loss of our personal interest against the God’s plan, the universal flow or whatever one prefers to call it. We show our true selves only when we can’t have it our way.
Read the rest of this entry »
Here’s the Teacher’s opinion on compliments men and women ought to tell each other, which I found quite peculiar:
A woman tells a man he’s strong and smart and how brilliantly he understands everything – because he is stimulated towards those things when she tells him.
A man tells a woman she is sexy and beautiful – because her purpose is giving birth, and feeling sexual she is more willing and happy to serve that purpose.
Read the rest of this entry »
When I thought I found my purpose in life, i.e. to be happy, the essence of this concept in my mind included being in harmony with the world; feeling positive and grateful for everything I have been given by God and people; not only being the glass full to the top – but being a fountain.
I think I may have mixed the wording – or I simply see it clearer now.
Read the rest of this entry »
I keep having this dream.
I kill a woman and try to get rid of her. Beside the fact that she is already dead, I tie her hands behind the back with a plastic wire. I put her into a black bag, face down, and into the trunk of a car. I want to get rid of her but the moment I look inside the bag again, she’s gone.
Read the rest of this entry »
I remembered my first Teacher tonight.
When father saw her book on my table at the age of 13, it was the only time he asked the question
Aren’t you too young for this?
Read the rest of this entry »
I had a blast with Pia tonight: we picked a bunch of post-cards at a book shop and later wrote wishes to friends.
Well, she was writing, I was dictating the letters. But she would think of the texts.
The one to the Upstairs Boy opened with
I miss you lots!
When I suggested we wrote a post-card to him and dropped it into his post-box, she lit up and couldn’t contain herself, jumping with excitement.
I remembered an episode we had this summer.
Read the rest of this entry »
The setting looks like the City Hall during a national music festival. People in winter coats gathered everywhere; halls-turned-changing-rooms; everything’s a mess, everyone’s late; I stand in front of a mirror and look at myself. As I make a fake smile, my front tooth falls out.
Read the rest of this entry »
I love the parks and stadiums I stop driving by in the most unusual time of day. I step out and have a cigarette leaning on my car window, radio playing inside, and watch the autumnal bushes giving away secrets to the wind. It’s somewhat thrilling to appear in places I never purposefully go to. It makes me think what happens there all this time I’m not around, and something must be happening every day.
Read the rest of this entry »
You know that feeling when you meet someone and it flows?
Well, I have this friend (I dare say the word, though am quite careful to not overuse it generally). Apart from him being one of the most intellectual and sociable personalities I have ever encountered, the greatest pleasure to me is, when we speak, I can be as abstract as I like to be (#thinkingoutloud) and I’m always understood.
Read the rest of this entry »
The Book says: a man is the spiritual, wise, guiding element. A woman is the earthly, materialist, grounded one. It is manifested in both our bodily functioning and our aspirations.
You write like a man. Don’t you stop now
Genius once told me, being the first one to take a glimpse at my literary attempts.
Read the rest of this entry »
The air was warm and dusk. The vibration under her belly-button resonated with the humming in the air.
She walked the street without looking around. She could see the dark tree foliage and the rest of the things above without moving her sight or lifting her head. The trees stood huge and silent. They were her allies, just like the air and the pavement blocks under her feet, and there was not a single human in sight.
Read the rest of this entry »
We were from the Beginning, if there was one. You and I.
We are everything, like everything else in the universe. Cells in the organism. Barely individual, just on the surface. Dive deeper – and there are no faces, genders, concepts, attributes, peculiarities. We are but particles of the force of life which I sometimes call God. Or Love.
Read the rest of this entry »
I want to hold your warm hand and share my cold with you.
I want to share the intimate silence that lives between us, accompanied by a touch and the awakened new energy streaming up the veins.
I want to share with you the moment of timelessness filled with the sense of bliss after which you know you can die without a single regret because it is more than you’ve ever hoped to experience.
Read the rest of this entry »
Don’t you love the chaotic rave of instruments? It’s so representative of life: the leading motive and the windy mess swaying around it. Sometimes the noise gets louder than anything else but the order in the chaos is never absent.
I remembered this really strange new thing that happened twice within the past several months within the total of 33 years – I felt like calling my father. No reason. No actual topic to cover, either.
But I’d call him still. He’d be surprised and fairly lost after realising I called because I only wanted to chat.
Read the rest of this entry »
To say I was a weird kid would be an understatement. With a foster-home haircut, I was often confused for a boy, too. When I saw my first film with Sophie Marceau, I realised a girl who didn’t smile could be beautiful nonetheless, so she sort of became a bit of a role model for a while.
I saw the trailer of Une Rencontre at 6 pm yesterday. Sprang out of bed, popped into the shower, threw on a dress and rallied my way to the cinema.
Read the rest of this entry »
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5RMrltCDCwI
She’d always say how she wanted matching tattoos with this quote, and I never knew where it was from. Would just smirk that the internet was abundant with photos of people having it inked on their sides and backs, and that I wouldn’t join that army.
Years after, I get this song from her.
Read the rest of this entry »
My heart used to be like a garden with sharp walls of pride and arrogance. For self-preservation purposes mostly, but that’s definitely something very noticeable when approached.
When we met, it surely didn’t feel like a wrecking ball. Nothing as brutal and destructive, or loud. Because that way, I would have noticed.
This morning after barely sleeping in a curled-up motionless pose for a few hours, after an attempt to finalise something crown on, with my macho buddies Rationality, Logic and Sarcasm, I see there are no walls around that garden any more. Just a hint of an old construction barely above the ground in places. But not more.
Read the rest of this entry »
…and then someone on Twitter starts following me, whose profile says
I JUST WANT A BOY TO LIKE ME AND THINK I AM PRETTY AND WANT TO KISS ME AND GO TO CONCERTS WITH ME AND GO CAMPING AND WATCH THE STARS
I start thinking how much I envy her limits but then slowly arrive at understanding there is a dimension where we are no different at all.
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XCvED0fSpwM
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 »
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
Read the rest of this entry »
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.
Read the rest of this entry »
I was sitting on the terrace last Friday night, having a smoke for the first time after seven years, thinking about something I’d said that day.
My colleague and I were having lunch in the office kitchen earlier and talking something until I saw her round eyes raised at me when she asked:
Did you just hear yourself?
Read the rest of this entry »
It is amazing how passionately we move towards some things that in the course of time appear to have been of a very different purpose than it seemed at the moment passing by. Some of them, though, leave you wondering about the possibilities that are given to you but not fully, as if we were kids and someone put a candy on the table,
Read the rest of this entry »
Love is above decency, family, material welfare, betrayal and everything else.
You see a polished person and admire them having mastered the subtleties of the requisite performance expected from their marital, social and money status. But you also see through: it’s not in their blood.
Read the rest of this entry »
I open my eyes and slowly return from a sticky dream. In moments like these, I feel like a sick person on meds sensing he’s almost recovered – sleep is my drug, my sea. I can never get enough.
Yet I take a look at the ceiling and it strikes me: I jump out of bed wearing my dress-turned-nightgown and dash to the living room.
Read the rest of this entry »
I found a bump in my breast.
I always love to see her. There is a certain light around some people, like an almost visible cloud that makes you breath in deeper and smile as they approach. It’s an active energy, a positive determination that’s very catchy and uplifting. You meet them, and you instantly sense something special’s gonna happen.
Read the rest of this entry »
What I do sometimes, having stepped into my empty home, is sit still in the hallway and watch the living room. I sit there in my coat and shoes, refraining myself from the automatic routine of getting undressed and involving into the modern dance of housework.
I sit for a while, looking at the place as if it wasn’t mine.
Read the rest of this entry »
You fight your war passionately, as if your life depended on it – doesn’t it always?
You suffer casualties and carry on.
You methodically pursue your aim, thinking up new strategies and acting undercover.
After years you realise there was never an enemy there, and no actual war per se, just you and your ever-intimate relationship with the Demon.
And as you embrace Him, and smile openly looking straight into His eyes, and put your hand on His, and you walk together for a while as one, your gut tells you that being a survivor is forever travelling the geography of your wounds.
I had a dream once. I saw an ocean and a sky of supernatural colours, resembling those of a sunset on the Earth, only they were bright orange, red, yellow and gold, and also blue and purple in places. It was hard to tell the sea and the sky apart as the sight was pulsing and waving as if it was fire and water and fresh air in one element.
Read the rest of this entry »
I know The Great Gatsby is old news; I’m sure most of you have seen it and many of you have run into all those quotes by Francis Scott Fitzgerald on Pinterest and Twitter after the premiere.
This is not a film review. I guess none of the ones I write are, really.
Read the rest of this entry »
Godparents are people you wish your child followed spiritually, intellectually and destiny-wise. Role models, care-givers and guides.
I don’t know what my parents were thinking when choosing me the Godfather I had – or maybe there wasn’t much of a choice in the traumatised soviet generation in terms of spiritual guidance – spirits, though, being commonly abused.
Read the rest of this entry »
I was looking at you the other day and for a moment, as we were silent, your eyes gained an expression entwining sadness, affection, longing, warmth, and I got lost in that sight, and I thought in the background of my disbelief: this must be the look of love, if love had a human face.
Read the rest of this entry »
Šiandien mano virtuvėje neįtikėtinai tylu. Visada viskas prityla, prieš grįžtant namo dukrai, bet šiandien yra kitaip.
Gal tai ruduo, gal tai mano mintys apie naujas galimybes, mano norai ir fantazijos apie tai, kaip viskas turėtų tuoj tuoj pasikeisti – nors ir pati nežinau, apie ką aš čia.
Read the rest of this entry »
Jeigu neklystu, jis buvo pirmas vyras, pasakęs man komplimentą.
Mokiausi penktoje klasėje ir kažkurį rytą nutariau, kad prie uniformos labai tiks mamos juodos raštuotos pėdkelnės. Jos buvo su įaustais auksiniais ir sidabriniais siūlais, tikros moters pėdkelnės, kurių neįmanoma nepastebėti. Pats tas prie rudos plisuotos uniformos penktoje klasėje.
Read the rest of this entry »
Galite penkis metus vaikščioti į tą patį barą ir nepasisveikinti, o sykį užsimezga akių kontaktas ir, žiūrėk, jau auginate tris vaikus.
Panašiai ir su knygomis – jos ateina pačiu laiku. Tiesa, ir žmonės, ir knygos veiksmingiausiai pamoko ir labiausiai praturtina tada, kai jau pats turi patirties, gebėjimo ją apibendrinti ir alkio mokytis bei pažinti dar.
Read the rest of this entry »
Aaa, tai štai, kas jis 🙂 Mėgstu šitą dainą.
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZg3ibOt964
Ką tik pasportavusi Maksimoje susitikau moterį, kurios vyrą iš pradžių palaikiau “Lauro lapo” šefu. Stovėjome prie Mamos kepyklėlės, aš jau mintyse čiaumojau kruasaną, tada pamačiau jį, tada ją, o, kokia graži žmona, galvoju, o tada ji man plačiai šypsosi ir aš suprantu, kad metas sveikintis, tik nežinau, su kuo.
Read the rest of this entry »
Doubt is my middle name.
I doubt at a grocery shop, picking apples over oranges. I hesitate on what to wear at work the next day (after I’ve doubted about the employment proposal, having initially said “no”). I feel mixed about lipstick colour, radically different perfume types, is it yoga or is it aerobics, do I want to save money or enjoy the present day, but most of all, I doubt people.
Read the rest of this entry »
We met after my brief text. I never extend my messages beyond the fact I’m back, and a question if he’s got time to meet.
I know that he will, whenever he can. He will make time, and thus, on my part, it is mere politeness to ask if he will.
He takes me to a bookshop cafe, the most stylishly bohemian place in town, empty of people on a warm summer afternoon.
Read the rest of this entry »
I’ve been disciplining myself; I’ve been instilling the skill of discretion to the point of becoming afraid to write what I thought or felt, even in my private folders and journals. It was like my stream of inner voices was safer locked, muted, kept in a ward-sized plexiglass box which I’d pass swiftly in the evening hours, with no time or courage to stop while passing by and watch.
Read the rest of this entry »
Yra tokia alkio rūšis, kai jautiesi išbadėjęs vien dėl nežinojimo, kada gausi valgyti.
Yra toks šalčio pojūtis, kai vaikštai užklydęs mažame miestelyje, kur nėra viešbučių, ir žinai, kad visą naktį neturėsi, kur užsukti.
Gali būti sotus ir šiltai apsirengęs, bet netikrumas dėl ateities – o veikiau žinojimas, kad viskas bus ne taip, kaip nori, sukelia priešingą jauseną, lyg jau būtum ten, kur šalta. Kokiame nors plyname lauke su daugybe stypsančių tuščių Snaigės šaldytuvų prastai užsidarančiomis durimis, pro kurias sklinda depresinė elektros lempučių šviesa.
Tau visas gyvenimas visada bus kaip pirmas kartas.
Gražesnių žodžių apie save, matyt, negirdėjau. Nors jie jau po truputį tolsta nuo tiesos, nuo mano vidinio pasaulio sienų, aprašinėtų vardais, įžadais, “niekada” ir “visada” – kai kurie jų perbraukti, ir ne po vieną kartą.
Read the rest of this entry »
Žaidžiu savo mintimis ir norais. Kasdien vis aiškiau įsivaizduoju, kaip gyvenu; kasdien prikuriu papildomų detalių į savo siekiamybės paveikslėlį, pasipasakoju vis daugiau dalykų apie tai, kaip, kur ir su kuo noriu būti, ir tada – nuostabu, jog taip greitai – stebiu, kaip fantazijos skiautės nusileidžia ant mano realybės ežero. Vis mažiau stebėdamasi sau patvirtinu: viskas taip, kaip prasukau savo nesustojančiame vidiniame filme. Tai nuostabu.
Read the rest of this entry »
Ką tik, jutube ieškodama lietuviškos muzikos, įsijungiau Tavo ir jos dainą.
Gal žmogus pastatytas iš garsų, kvapų, norų ir prisiminimų; gal iš tiesų mumyse labai lengva ištrinti chronologines ribas, sujudinti kai ką pamatinio, kad taip staiga, akivaizdžiai be prasmės priešintis mano pilvas susigniaužė nuo galingo prisiminimo.
Read the rest of this entry »
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fU00qvYuq24
Atitirpimas.
Pradedu jausti, lyg koks ilgai nefunkcionavęs organas įsijungtų į bendrą organizmo veiklą. Keista, kad jo tiek ilgai nejaučiau esant.
Kiek daug istorijų gali rutuliotis vieno, atskiro žmogaus viduje, niekam per daug neprisidedant, nežinant, nedalyvaujant.
Stebiu save, kaip filmą. Kartais toks atsitraukimas suteikia drąsos išlipti iš komforto zonos, minti savo baimei ant kojos ir pamatyti, kad tai ne visada baigiasi prastai.
Žiūrėjau kažkurį šeštadienį sesers parekomenduotą The Secret ir juokiausi: atrodo, jau šimtus metų kartoju ten kaip didžiausią naujieną skelbiamas tiesas apie kokybių trauką, dabarties akcentavimą, minčių materializaciją, gavimą to, ko nori… Filmelis netgi banalus.
Pažiūrėjusi ant durniaus ėmiau kartoti visokias mantras. Tai yra, žaidžiau seką mintis –> žodis –> materija.
Read the rest of this entry »
Kartą, labai seniai, dar prieš Didžiųjų Išbandymų Laikus, nuvykau pas būrėją.
Mane bent kiek geriau pažįstantys žino, kaip negailestingai pasičepsėdama sukramtau visus tuos prislopintu balsu, dvasingais veidais bylojančius mediumus ir jų lekuojančius klientus.
Niekaip daug nesiteisinsiu, bet tada, matyt, baisiai reikėjo ramento ir aš leidau sau diskretiškai “pabandyti”.
Read the rest of this entry »
Jeigu leisčiausi vedama aplinkybių, dabar būtų tas pats etapas kaip tada – pasitinkant ir išlydint lėktuvus, imant taksoną iš vieno deito į kitą ir ramiu veidu pažindinant tarpusavyje meilužius.
Pasisiūlymų ežeras. Sėdim su Budėtoju sumerkę į jį kojas per karščius ant Susilaikymo liepto ir stebim, kiek daug bulšito aplink.
Read the rest of this entry »
Paskutines keturias dienas varau tiek, kad jau šiandien profesionalūs berniukai, tampę paskutiniuosius mano baldus, išvažiuodami palinkėjo sėkmės olimpiadoje. Vienas jų net nenusijuokė, kai pasakiau, kad lovą būčiau susimontavusi pati, bet sunkoka (čia kas matė mano lovą, tas supras).
Read the rest of this entry »
Tai štai, kur dingsta visas žmonių laikas – darbe! Kol dar nesu inertiška, pastebiu tą keistą disproporciją – o gal tai paradoksas? – dauguma žmonių daugiausiai laiko skiria pareigai, o ne žmonėms, su kuriais norisi būti. Kita vertus, gal dėl to tik labiau ir norisi po darbo skubėti pas Piją į darželį?
Su Direktore jau bendraujam на Ты. Darbe retai kada šitaip darau, nes man labai svarbi distancija. Bet kai kurie žmonės be didelių pastangų mažina mano baimę prisileisti. Ne vonią vandens, bet visus juos.
Read the rest of this entry »
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ovfz0AbTeo&feature=related
Pabaigos be pabaigos yra kenksmingos.
Užtruko daug metų, bet bent jau to turning up uninvited man nebenutinka. Karūna vietoj.
Visa kita pasimetę kažkur tarp eilučių, gerų manierų ir guodžiančios patirties: this, too, shall pass.
Neseniai pažiūrėjau Sorrentino filmą “Le conseguenze dell’amore”. Lyg ir geras, lyg ir ieškojau esmės per smarkiai ar per giliai.
(Nepagalvokit, aš gilus žmogus, bet ne iki šlykštumo. Kai sakau, kad labai gilinuosi į filmus, tai tiesiog instinktas, išsivystantis po gausybės jų peržiūrėjimo, kai pradedi ieškoti visokių atspalvių ir posluoksnių. Turbūt kaip išdarinėdamas vištą – whatever that is.)
Kai jau nutariau, kad nieko nesupratau, Jis pasakė: “Tiesiog filmas apie tai, kas nutinka įsimylėjus”.
Šiandien aš galvoju apie skausmo pasekmes. Banalaus fizinio skausmo.
Ar jums kada nors ką nors smarkiai skaudėjo?
Read the rest of this entry »
Ar jums niekada nekilo noras atsikratyti piršto? Į galvą iš karto lenda bibliniai palyginimai, o aš kalbu tiesiogine prasme.
Turbūt reiktų pradėti nuo anksčiau. Nuo labai seniai, kai nutariau, jog visas ligas galiu išsigydyti pati. Taip ir darydavau. Ne iš puikybės, žinoma, bet iš didelio nusižeminimo. Liga kaip apvalymas, kaip vaistas, kaip… pirštas? Haha. Tas Dievo.
Read the rest of this entry »
Apie tą nutikimą ilgai kaupiuosi rašyti – kai kuriems dalykams tiesiog turi ateiti žodžiai.
Paprastai ryte išėjusi su Pija iš namų pastatau ją ant šaligatvio, liepiu niekur neiti, atsidarau mašinos duris, užvedu, kad pašiltų, ir įsodinu Piją į jos autokėdutę.
Tą rytą ant šaligatvio buvo kalnas kieto sniego, todėl pastačiau Piją už mašinos gatvėje (“Tik niekur neik!”) ir nuėjau užvesti variklio. Sukant raktą šmėstelėjo, kad 2,5 metų vaikas gal nebūtinai klauso kiekvieno paliepimo ir kad reikėjo įsodinti ją pirmiau…
Read the rest of this entry »
Sutikau ją po to, kai atradau tuos keistus aktus. Tada ji jau buvo nupjautomis krūtimis ir neplanavo dėtis implantų. Neįprastu būdu, rengdama parodas su savo pakitusio kūno fotografijomis, ji lyg ir kreipė dėmesį į vėžiu sergančias moteris, į gyvenimą po išlikimo.
Read the rest of this entry »
Jeigu kas mesteltų mane dvylika metų atgal, padaryčiau tai, ką padariau šiandien. Nestočiau į Šiaulių universitetą ir nestudinčiau to, ką puikiausiai mokėjau dar mokykloje (anglų kalbos). Gal nebūčiau stojusi niekur, padariusi study gap’ą? O gal būčiau pagalvojusi, ko iš tiesų noriu, kas man teikia malonumo, į ką noriu gilintis, o ne kurioje aukštosios mokyklos specialybėje išplauksiu su savo siaubinga natūra – вечно перспективная…
Read the rest of this entry »
Šiandien pertraukiau savo niekuo neišsiskiriančią dieną susitikimu. Sena draugė, panašus ego dydis, trijų metų pauzė po didelio konflikto. Šiandien jau žinau: niekas čia nekaltas ir visi mes teisūs, bet pasimatyti buvo išties malonu.
Jau atrandu, kokios skirtingos yra laimės rūšys.
Read the rest of this entry »
Režisierius pakilo nuo stalo su žodžiais „A va, jau atėjo.“
Atsisukau neiškart. Buvo smarkiai sulysęs, dar tamsesniu veidu, tik prakaulus jis atrodė ypač tolimas visiems susirinkusiems. Nuo vyno įraudę, nuo vartojimo patenkinti tų kitų žandai. O jis ką. Jis Poetas. Mano Mylimas Poetas. Visas pajuodęs ir anapusinis.
Balsas buvo kažkaip pasikeitęs. Aukštesnis, berniūkštiškas, kartais pajuokiantis, nors man, glosčiusiai tekstą akimis be garso, norėjosi daugiau intonacinio dramatizmo.
Skaitė, o viskas jau buvo girdėta. Kai ką, rodės, net mokėjau atmintinai – nors netiesa, neskaičiau jo daug. Tiesa, saugau visas knygas – su dedikacijomis, noriu pažymėti. Retai ištraukiu iš lentynos, nes jos – kaip įsikūnijęs švininis klausimas: „O tu dar rašai?“
Jo poezija yra tikra. Ji yra patyrimas. Todėl, kad ribinis. Kaip vaikas. Egoistiškas. Bet iki galo. Aš net nesvajoju turėti tiek drąsos. Na, bent tokį aš jį pažinau. Tai buvo seniai.
Nedrįsau prieiti. Žinojau, kad nepažins. Viskas, ką galėjau pasakyti, buvo taip nereikšminga ir mandagu.
Priėjau. Buvo draugų. Bardas.
Ar ne keista, kaip skiriasi artumas. Su vienais žmonėmis jis toks apčiuopiamas, bet įsimena ne tiek ilgai palyginus su idėjiniu, neišpildytu artumu.
Net Bardas nepažino. Tai geras ženklas – kad pasikeičiau nuo tų laikų, kai mano pravardė bohemščikų tarpe buvo Ledas. Atrodo, aš savotiškai net derėjau prie jų kompanijos. Kaip frykas, iš kurio nesitikėtumei raidžių pažinimo. Man atrodo, jiems buvo taip nuoširdžiai keista ir smagu, kad jas pažinau.
Pasakiau, kad noriu padėkoti.
Kai kas nori tau padėkoti, pasakė Bardas su jau šiek tiek šelmišku šypsniu. Nebe tiek mandagiu.
„Noriu padėkoti už skaitymą. Buvo tikrai labai gera Tave girdėti.“ Ką kita pasakysi… Juk tai ir yra tiesa. Velniop išieškotus dialogus.
Jis padėkojo. Nepažino, nesuprato.
„Linkėjimai Tau nuo Odaliskos“, paglosčiau petį. Nenorėjau šito sakyti, bet yra žmonių, kurie manęs niekaip kitaip ir nepažino.
„ČIA TU?“
Jam patiko mano eilėraščiai proza. Jis mėgo juos labiau nei mano surimuotus, suskaičiuotus, pasistengtus. Gal vieną tokį ir turiu. Lyg ir nesunku suskaičiuoti, bet niekad nenorėjau. Norėjau būti šiek tiek netvarkinga. Netaisyklinga. Todėl nesimokiau, neprašiau, kad kažkas mano kūrybą redaguotų, papildytų arba gražintų. Mano Mylimas Poetas kartą sakė, kad nesu gimusi būti mokine. Ir gerai – niekas man juk nepasakys, kaip tai daroma, kad ir kas tai būtų. Galiu eiti tik apgraibomis. Man kūryba visada buvo ėjimas apgraibomis, tas bejėgiškumas, apsinuoginimas, visiškas savitumas. Neskubrus odos nusilupimas ir leidimas čiupinėti gyvą mėsą.
Ir vienatvė. Nešiojimas, brandinimas, rašymas-braukymas ir paskui tas netikėtas vakaras, kai viskas sugula į žodžius, o kūną krečia neįprastas drebulys.
Pasiilgau to. Bet gyvenu su sąmoningu pasirinkimu nebūti viena, save išdalinti po smulkų buitišką gabalėlį kasdien mainais į sveiką psichiką, nevienatvę, normalų šeiminį gyvenimą.
Gal kažkas moka – aš negebu su šeima susieti rašymo kaip ieškojimo, užsidarymo, to vilkiško ratų sukimo aplink save, kad išspausčiau eilutę, kurią paskui subraukysiu ir suksiu ratus aplink kitą.
„O tu dar rašai?“
Bandžiau pasakyti kažką tikro, bet gal pernelyg jaudinausi. Be to, buvo žmonių.
„Nėra laiko, ar ne?“ Paklausė taip nepakeliamai mandagiai, taip lyg ne manęs, lyg ne peroksidinės blondinės netikru įdegiu.
Siaubas, kaip mandagiai. Kokie keisti gyvenime pasirinkimai ir kokios keistos jų kainos.
„Nėra laiko.“
O juk iš tiesų. Viskas yra pasirinkimas. Prarasti tėvus, draugus, sugyventinius dėl to, kas tik tau vienam labai asmeniškai svarbu – ir drąsa, ir vis dėlto ne mano pasirinkimas. Sakau taip, nes mane visada jaudino tas atvirumo, apsinuoginimo klausimas: nuoširdi, patirtinė kūryba vienintelė nuginkluoja. Ta fantazinė – jau kitas lygis, bet pradžia, kaip kažkas sakė, savos patirties išprakaitavimas – aš to bijau.
Žinau, kad pasaulis nuo vienos bereikalingos knygos-bandymo bus išvaduotas. Argi ne puiku?
Kartais, labai retai, ir vis rečiau – atsikabina kažkoks kabliukas, prasiveria durys ir vyksta tai, ką tik stebiu. Manyje. Tai, ką tik seku, o ne kuriu.
Kol kalbėjomės, laikiau Piją ant rankų. Nepamenu, kaip atsisveikinom. Man buvo truputį liūdna, kad esu taip toli nuo jų.
Tiesa, jeigu Pijos nebūtų, o aš vis dar siautėčiau Namuose Be Sienų, kas žino, ar būčiau arčiau. Kas žino, ar būčiau.
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=murYvyEzpUM
Ši daina man primena tas valandas, kai jie mylisi melancholiškai, jau ilgėdamiesi vienas kito; jie neieško žodžių tam pasakyti, bet jaučia, kad pirmo akių kontakto karštis slopsta, pirmo prisilietimo magija sklaidosi. Tai liūdnas išėjimas iš nuostabios ir vertingos būsenos “čia ir dabar” – tai gal vienintelis prasmingas šalutinis įsimylėjimo poveikis.
Read the rest of this entry »
Yra toks netyčiuko tipas. Tikiu, visi esame jų sutikę: gan talentingi, bet šokiruojančiai nepakantūs kritikai. Jų nevisavertiškumo kompleksas išsiverčia tokiu nachališkumu, su kuriuo net jei galėtum, tiesiog neleistum sau konkuruoti – na, bet jau aš mikliai pasijaučiu above it.
Esu sutikusi kelis tokius žmones.
Read the rest of this entry »
Neįtikėtina, kaip per kelis metus žmogus gali pasikeisti. Aišku, jeigu nutinka reikšmingų dalykų, tai lyg ir suprantama, bet vis tiek.
Neseniai gatvėje pakliuvau į tokią iki kraujo pažįstamą situaciją, kai du bičai šalia kalbasi apie mane – na, ne taip garsiai, kad girdėčiau 120%, bet kokiais 98% tai tikrai 🙂 Iš serijos, “Man labai patinka šita moteris”.
Read the rest of this entry »
Buvau pakviesta į du Coffee Inn atidarymus ir po to lankiausi juose lygiai tiek pat kartų. Na, neskaitant dar poros sykių “Panoramos” knygyne su šeima. Žinau, kad vieta populiari, kad nuolat apgulta (nebe mano amžiaus grupės) progresyvios publikos… Bet man vienai ten nedrąsu lankytis dėl tos pačios priežasties kaip ir makdonalduose: aš nežinau, kaip elgtis, kai reikia kažką padaryti pačiai. Pavyzdžiui, į latę įsidėti cukraus ar kitų priedų, dar susirasti tą pagaliuką ir pamaišyti, užmauti ant induko dangtelį…
Nežinau, kodėl man taip sunku.
Read the rest of this entry »
Rašiau priešpaskutinę dieną Bankoke. Paskui, maniau, ištryniau. Et voila – dabar atsiranda tai, ką rašiau svajodama apie šiandien. Laikas toks susipynęs…
***
Trečias kartas Bankoke per pastaruosius 2,5 metų. Guliu viešbučio lovoje, geriu chemikalinę rūgščią kavą, šeima su kompanija Kinų kvartale ieško aukso (tiesiogine prasme – draugai nutarė Tailande įsigyti vestuvinius žiedus).
Read the rest of this entry »
Teisingai Jis pasakė: mes jau nebekeliaujame. Mes emigravome.
Tai faktas, kurio nebuvau įsisąmoninusi. O juk iš tiesų visi tie depresonai – tipinės emigrantų problemiūkštės.
Atskirtumo jausmas man sunkiausias. Pasiilgau draugų ir pažįstamų. Atrodo, grįžusi užatakuosiu kvietimais kavos ir nekavos. Vis flashback’inu, kaip neišnaudojau galimybės juos užatakuoti, kai gyvenome ten. Tipiška 🙂
Kultūriniai skirtumai – bene didžiausią verbalinės diarėjos pliūpsnį iššaukiantis momentėlis. Net nežinau, nuo ko pradėti.
Read the rest of this entry »
Vienas pirmiausiai ir dažniau nei kitur pasaulyje į akis krentančių ypatumų yra kathoey. Tai transvestitai, transseksualai, vadinama trečioji lytis. Kai tik atvažiavome, jų sutinkame nuolat ir dažnai. Mane labiausiai nustebino tai, jog mažuose miestukuose, nedidelėse bendruomenėse, kurios paprastai būna konservatyvios ir prietaringos visur (think Lietuvos kaimas), tokių žmonių matėme ir aptarnaujančių kavinių staliukus, ir besisukiojančių viešbučių registracijose, ir nuomojančių būstą. Galvoju, kaip čia yra. Neišvengiamai mąstau savo dėžutėje. Lietuvoje, ypač provincialiose vietovėse, sudarančiose didžiumą šalies teritorijos, visokius gėjus mezgėjus “suėda”, nebent jie vienokiu ar kitokiu būdu sugeba įsipaišyti bendruomenėje ir sulaukia atlaidaus “tiek to, priimsim, kol nesišakoji” požiūrio. Įprastesnė reakcija – “kątublegaidy“.
Read the rest of this entry »
Backstreet Books aptikau nemažą psichologinės literatūros skyrių. Be daugybės Freudo ir Jungo veikalų buvo ir mažiau žinomų autorių. Išsirinkau ryškiai geltoną self-helpo knygą raudonu pavadinimu “Happier: Can You Learn to Be Happy?”. Autorius – Tal Ben-Shahar. Nieko apie jį nesu girdėjusi, bet pasiėmiau. Pasitikėjimą sukėlė įvadas, teigiantis, jog tai populiariausio Harvardo kurso dėstytojo knyga. Pirmaisiais metais pozityviosios psichologijos paskaitą (nes tai pozityviosios psichologijos knyga) lankė 6 studentai. Antraisiais metais užsirašė 380, o trečiaisiais – 855, kurie ėmė į paskaitas vestis savo tėvus ir senelius. Netrukus pasirodė ir žiniasklaida.
Read the rest of this entry »
Don Muang oro uostas. Tykus, lyginant su Suvarnabhumi, aptarnaujantis daugiausia vidinius skrydžius. 7.30 am, beje, ir jau po pusryčių.
Naktelė – viena košmariškiausių, mat kelionė iš Koh Phangan prasidėjo vakar 1 pm – plaukėme keltu į vietovę savitu pavadinimu Chumporn. Tiesa, nebe katamaranu. Per tas kelias valandas Pija įgijo kokias tris tailandietes aukles ir mano vaizduotėje jau iškilo nuostabi vizija, kaip aš jas visas ir nusisamdau.
O jau paskui autobusiukas iki Bankoko. Sakote, Lenkijoje prasti keliai? Tikriausiai nebuvote Tailande?
Read the rest of this entry »
Daug galvoju. Per dieną galvoje persipina daugybė įvairiausių minčių – tai kaip alternatyvus gyvenimas išoriniam.
Skaitau knygas. Čia, Thongsala miestuke, aptikau visą Roald Dahl kolekciją! Pasiėmiau porą knygų ir gailiuosi, kad jos ne po 1000 puslapių.
Kartais atsitinka įdomus dalykas:
Read the rest of this entry »
Regis, visi esminiai klausimai išspręsti: baldams sandėlis yra, mašina išnuomota, vaikui darželis surastas, kremai nuo saulės nupirkti. Beliko prieš pat kelionę daiktus šast, šast į juodus plastikinius maišus.
Išvykstame kovo 22 dieną. Laiko visai nedaug, bet man kažkodėl visa atrodo taaaip toli…
Ir kaip mes sugalvojome kraustytis į tą Tailandą?
Read the rest of this entry »
Įdomus dalykas. Beveik niekada nebūnu viena, bet giliai viduje, ten, kur niekas nemato, yra tokia pilkoji zona, kur esu tik aš ir niekada nieko kito nebus. Ta pilkoji zona nebe fizinė, kaip anksčiau, kaip tais sekmadienio rytais Namuose Be Sienų, kai po savaitgalio žygių ištisą dieną nepratardavau nė žodžio, mat nebuvo kam, ir perskaitydavau kokią neploną knygą. Kaip tais vakarais, ruošiantis iš namų su lūkesčiu, kad gal pagaliau nebebūsiu tokia viena, kažkas atsitiks ir mano būtis taps lyg ir kažkieno kito. Nieko neatsitikdavo. Na, bent jau nieko naujo.
Read the rest of this entry »
Atsitiktinai pavarčiau “Psichologiją TAU” ir aptikau straipsnelį apie darbuotojų motyvavimą, įmonės politiką, kuo vadovai gali paskatinti komandą arba, atvirkščiai, kas priverčia darbuotojus nuleisti rankas ir kelti sparnus. Žodžiu, vienas iš daugelio rašliavų apie karjerą, bla bla.
Mano dėmesį patraukė kitkas: šalia visų teksto punktelių buvo iliustruojančios fotografijos.
Read the rest of this entry »
Tai, kas vyksta pastarąsias savaites, galima įvardyti kaip rutiną: pasikartojanti dienotvarkė su laiko pastumdymais. Tačiau kuo daugiau rutinos, tuo daugiau povandeninių srovių. Kuo mažiau vyksta išorėje, tuo daugiau vyksta viduje. Galvoju apie jogus, kurie metams užsikasa po žeme. Na, gerai, kad ir apie tuos, kurie užsidaro kalnų trobelėse. Galvoju apie Hesės valtininką.
Read the rest of this entry »
Šiandien mane papiktino vienas straipsnis. Jame diskutuojama, kiek pėdkelnių pasirinkimas nusako moters vidinę kultūrą, įgimtą laiko bei vietos pojūtį ir gebėjimą korektiška išvaizda žongliruoti protokolinėse situacijose. Aš puikiai suprantu, kad egzistuoja karališkieji priėmimai, biuro aplinka ir Seimas, bet tokie “išmanėlių” tekstukai man dvelkia bandymu įprasminti stambius ir itin brangiai kainuojančius tomus, sukaltus apie protokolą, apie tai, kas, kada ir kaip galima.
Read the rest of this entry »
Staiga mane sugavo mintis: ar tik aš netampu per daug normali? Tokia stabili, skaitanti knygas apie vaikų seksualumą, besivilianti būti geresne motina, jau dabar esanti labiau nei bet kada nuspėjama, o visas neatsakingumas – tai keli šimtai litų, palikti “Kristianoje” už mažyčius buteliukus; daugiau jokių žaidimų degtukais, jokių lenktynių ir nuo slydimo apsibraižiusių stiklo kalnų.
Ar aš to bent jau nepamiršiu? Nes jeigu nepamiršiu, tai vis tiek matysis – kažkaip neapčiuopiamai, bet jeigu pašnekovas pagaulus… Man atrodo, kad jeigu vieną dieną tapsiu visiškai normali, nebeliks manęs pačios. Ir viso to nemalonumo, dėl kurio kažkada buvo verta mane sutikti.
Kai su juo permiegodavau, jausdavausi neištikima viso pasaulio vyrams – ir tiems, kuriems tikrai buvau neištikima, ir tiems, kurių dar nebuvau spėjusi pasimatuoti. Mano svarbiausi ilgalaikiai nesantykiai buvo su vyru, apie kurį nieko daug nežinojau, o jis nepažinojo manęs.
Mes miegojome su fantazija apie vienas kitą. Dabar, kai tai seniai baigta (kas baigta?), aš elgiuosi kaip dama. Bet tai viskas, ką galiu. Sapnų nesuplėšysiu, vaizduotės neišsiperuosiu.
Baisiausia, žinoma, ilgėtis ne jo paklodžių. Galios.
Mano Mylimas Jis čia stipriausias – dar niekas nekėlė man tokios pagarbos, kad nebegrįžčiau pas Genijų. Mano Mylimas Jis atliko neįveikiamą darbą – įtikino, kad riba tarp tikrovės ir fantazijos egzistuoja, ir dėl Jo aš likau tikrovės pusėje.
Taip, tai pagarba. Bet meilė… Meilė nėra kryptis. Tikrai ne vienpusė kryptis.
Vkr sapnavau sapną: baigiau versti knygą, maluosi kažkur su žmonėmis visa tokia graži, išsipuošusi, kažkokia atskilusi nuo visos aplinkos lyg iš kitos planetos ir nežinia, ar viena suvokianti, kad tai tik regimybė… O viduje toks stiklinis jausmas, kad aš dabar nutrūkau, pakilau į orą, manęs “prie žemės netraukia” joks darbas, o ateitis nelb aiški, ir tik laiko klausimas, kada aplinkiniai tai supras, perkąs mane ir mano apsimestinė (taip pat prieš save pačią) ramybė, savikontrolė ir stabilumas sprogs ore kaip ir pinigai, kurie dar liko.
Šnd aš baigiau versti knygą. Mane kankina nemiga.
Read the rest of this entry »
Nuostabu: žiūriu pro langą ir džiūgauju. Nežinau, ar Jūs pastebėjote, bet yra toks laikas metuose, kai apsimetus, jog gimei prieš valandą, ir pamiršus, ką žinai, sunku pasakyti, ar šiuo metu ruduo, ar pavasaris. Nes šilta, bet ne karšta; šiek tiek vėsu, bet nežinia – vėsta ar tiesiog nespėjo įšilti. Jei galvoji, kad pavasaris, tai užkutena tas naujumo, šviesos pažadas, o jei įsivaizduoji, kad ruduo, apima susimąstymas ir žiemos gylio nuojauta.
Read the rest of this entry »
“Nežinau, ar kraustausi iš proto, ar pagaliau grįžtu į jį. Gyvenimas, gatvė ir aš pati virtome teatru, į kurį gali žiūrėti, kas tik nori. Išlaisvinantis ir pavojingas jausmas. Viskas veda į tai, kad kurią nors dieną tikrai išeisiu į gatvę nuoga. Tik dabar pradedu iš tiesų kurti. Kūryba yra nuogumas ir laisvė”.
***
Rašiau tai beveik prieš pat reabilitaciją.
Read the rest of this entry »
Tada gulėjau ligoninėj. Tris dienas neleido valgyti, gerti. Dalia suvilgydavo vatos tamponą ir perbraukdavo lūpas. Prašydavau dar ir dar, kad bent keli lašai to vandens nutekėtų gerkle, o ji sakydavo: negalima. Keli lašai, ir tik ant lūpų. Tokie vėsūs ir, deja, greit nudžiūstantys.
Read the rest of this entry »
Read the rest of this entry »