For your consideration...

A lucid barrier of delusion,
is tearing asunder the rationality and the misunderstanding.

Just empty words,
are coming out of the mouth,
and the silence is causing pain,
wrong impression, fake promises.

The pride is rising above the inner peace,
and all that is left is,
the meaningless walk through the rainy labyrinths of unattainableness.

You are not the one that bit the apple,
but yet,
you are the one that is ashamed of the nudity.

The flow is braking the fragile walls of the existence.
The ebb is just pulling it all away.
No evidences left.
Unfortunately...

Alien love

What can I do for you? A coffee? Cigar? A little crying maybe? No thank you, I will not cry..Why? What is up with the crying..It`s pointless, it`s not like someone is going to hear you, see your stupid face covered with wet mascara lines, looking like some idiot who lost control and now can`t take it back.. What, tell me, it`s not like you are going to lose weight, like when you are sweating.. What can I say now, when you ruined my life? Oh yes, darling, that`s right..The heartless princess is lost..But it`s OK you know...It`s OK to be out of control sometimes, just to see that the other feelings, long time no seen, and felt, still exist...And now, the case is open..What shall we do?We can`t call the cops.The one that is guilty is the one that called the cops..I can`t betray myself..I will run again..Run from this fake scenario that I made up. Trying to be nice, but can`t. Trying to say, I`m glad, writing it, while my brain is resisting the pressure. It hurts, so bad.. I knew it, I mean,it was so obvious. There is no end of something that has not even started.So why should I care?Or cry? Or be angry? You know, people that have seen UFO? No one believes them, everybody are like:Yeah, and I saw Yeti yesterday, playing basketball in my yard. Well, I felt it, and that`s OK... I know that it was not real, but just wanted to stay a little bit longer there..To feel the real thing in the fiction, to be safe just for a while.. To understand, to remember...To feel pain again. But, you know, it doesn`t matter.. I knew that it was going to end.I must admit,I wasn`t prepared yet, and that`s why I`m writing this stupid pointless article..So that, the next time when I read it, I will remember always to be prepared..To wear the helmet..No biggie, just got an exit wound. You bleed a little bit, heal it, and always look the scar when something new is coming...Yes, I would like one cigarette, thank you!!!!!

The eternal tautology

You know, I wonder sometimes… No, I just said that (that I wonder sometimes) cause I thought that it might be cool that I was thinking something through…Deeply..You know… Never mind. .So, just before I start writing, I was thinking about the saying “What goes around comes around” …That the life is like a wheel, or circle,or, whatever you like, and that one day everything will come back at you like a boomerang… Cause, you know, the Earth is round, so because of that , the life itself has to be round, and it has to work on that principle, you know, to roll…Or maybe it`s because of it`s shape…I don`t know… But now, there is another question popping into my head…Why do you think that there could be more room in a circle than in a square, or a cone or some other geometrical design? The saying is made up that way, so that it could role… I must say, it`s not at all a healthy thought at 10 AM, but hey, my whole environment is not so bright either, so according to it`s facts and principles, I suddenly realized that the circle is not rolling because it is round, or because of the shape of the Earth…No, no…We are blowing into the circle, and it is rolling , until , you are tired of blowing and you just stop. But sometimes, you might blow it so strong, so that you`ll tear apart the circle, and all the fragile stuff inside it will just sparkle around and brake. Some of us, with all the shame and persistence, thinking about the things that were important inside that circle, are looking for a needle and a thread , to sew the circle, and while gluing the stuff that broke, are thinking of a new strategy, how to blow the circle again, so that this time, the guilt and all the broken pieces are on the other side. And, some of us, simply pay for a maid, you know, to clean up the mess …

It is my life after all

Again …the moments of thinking through. Oh, what an imperfectness. The same shit again. Really, I never thought of myself as a person that can walk the same unchanged path…Path, or circle, or field…The name is irrelevant, what is important is what is really going on. Actually, when I`ll think better, there is really nothing going on. You are standing somewhere in between point A and B..Point A, drawing you an arrow that leads to the exit, and the other is also drawing you an arrow, just the other way round, leading you back in the entrance, maybe, reminding you of some past experiences, events that were suppose to be just a memory…a pleasant moment from the past. But somehow, the role that I`m playing right now, is not compatible with the genre of the play, so because of that logical reason, the script that was repeated a hundreds of times, still amuses me. But somehow, out of nowhere, in the middle of the play, I looked around, and I realized that the genre has changed. So, finally, the big word, CHANGE. A word that was suppose to bring me a joy and relief, but, again somehow, the genre of the play that I was acting in, by definition is called monodrama. An empty scene, covered with some yellow autumn leafs, and on the seats, audience collected from the crew that was playing with me before, on the scene. Observing this nonsense, I am trying to sit between them, to get out of the script, the lines that I am suppose to say , and to ask them, wondering: “What the hell is going on here? Why am I alone on the scene, ha? For the whole time I thought I was talking to someone, that someone will respond to my questions? Obviously, rhetorical questions. “And, just like that, with an eagerness in my voice, and the tears almost shed , I am looking at their amazed faces … The lightening from the reflector is following my every step… I was standing there, on the scene, still wondering, with tears falling down my cheeks, and suddenly.. A big applause…. Still confused, not knowing why these strange people are applauding me , I left the scene. The audience left the theatre from the main entrance…I…I was still behind the curtains..

Only happy when it rains...NOOT

So..here I am, looking at the ruining of my so called mature personality or life, or whatever, which BTW, by now was suppose to be enjoying , and I ask myself, which part was missing for it to become perfect? What can a girl do when you are constantly washing your car , and the fucking birds are always crapping it, or suddenly, when you are proud of the shiny color of your clean car, the rain will come and will fuck you up again. The mistake is so obvious, just, the problem is that there are no eyes to observe it, not an ear to hear it, not even a woman instinct, just an empty space. I am lying , I don`t fancy a rain at this moment. I`m tired of running and hiding , tired of making a perfect plans for a moments of happiness. I`m tired of hiding my identity, and to get a little political , I`m starting to identify myself with my little country. And now what? I am in vacuum right now. Well, is not this the thing and the moment that I was lusting for so long? So bad. Why , just for once, I don`t make up my mind , why don`t I end my meaningless walking? Why am I still standing on this fucking blind street? A girl without makeup , drama queen.
I DON’T WANNA SEX ON THE BEACH.
I DON’T WANNA ZOMBIE.
I DON’T WANNA TIJUANA.
I DON’T WANNA MARGARETHA.
I DON’T WANNA COSMOPOLITAN.
I DON’T WANNA LONG ISLAND.
I DON’T WANNA GIN TONIC.
I DON’T WANNA MARTINI EITHER.
WHAT I REALLY WANT IS WATER. One drop of a good water. I want to be an USB devise. Portable. I`m too small and selfish to forgive. I am getting my hopes too high. And what I surely do not want right now, is the hope, as the last piece of the jigsaw of my pain.

The glazier

It is just like, you find yourself inside a room, surrounded by a soundproofed glass, so you are there, you see everything, all the happy moments that are happening to the people around you... Well, they seemed to be happy, according to the happy faces they were making and their fucking grimaces. Everybody is so busy with their perfect life... So was I.. Until recently, when I accidentally broke the glass, and I started to hear their voices and I actually realized that the faces were not happy at all... They just seemed that way ... I was no longer isolated. I was there, present, and realized that I spend way too much time behind the glass... Even so, the next day, I called the glazier (just in case)...

What the heck the three star blog means?

Well, it took me a long time to create this blog..I can make up a little drama, where I can be the young girl writer that went through a difficult life times, and how I was not understood from no one, and then started to write some short texts... But these are not the real reasons, actually, I was preparing my graduation thesis...Oh, who am I kidding... OK, I was very lazy, and addicted to Facebook... I`m still all those things, but I`ll try to ...I will not promise anything... That way, I will not feel pressure, and I`ll write when I feel like it, because, you can not limit your inspiration with time. Anyway, what I really wanted to say, I was going to explain the title of the blog. It`s not a rating, a three star blog, If I was going to do that kind of stuff, I would have named it, the five star blog, right? Actually, the three stars is my tattoo, even though it is small, it has a whole philosophy dragging with it, that is of course, connected with this blog. So, I will not explain the meaning of my tattoo, I will just start writing, and some day, I`ll tell the story about it. Chaaa...