Walking on Dark Black Carpets

Not a dream...

2011-11-03T21:32:00.003+01:00

Another sleepless night. And only one Aspirin left. I've already had one, because of the terrible headache that has stolen my sleep. And it's still not giving it back...

Only one Aspirin left. Not enough to commit suicide. It's not like I culd really do it, but I've thought about it hundreds of times. Everytime I start thinking about my hard work and the poor results, about all the wrong I do because of my insatisfaction, about how the world would be a better world without me.

I feel like everybody has grown up and found a place, while I'm stuck in this phase full of doubt and unfullfilled wishes. J is the only person wose presence makes me feel save, like I was home; the only one whose words can make me smile and feel more confident; the only one who can make me forget. But he will go on and grow up someday. Where will I be when that happens. Will there be still a place for me in his world?

I'm still searching for my way. I'm afraid I made too many bad decisions. Isn't someone going to pick me up? I always fled into my dreams when reality tried to destroy me. But now, darkness has reached even the hidden Realm of my fantasy. Where am I? I just want to go home...

Awfull little people

2010-06-21T20:59:00.003+02:00

It's been a long time since I felt so much hate for someone. It's the feeling that overcomes you when you know you're totally superior, but you can't do anything because society has made the other one stronger, older, bigger or richer than you. I always tried to avoid that kind of people. But sometimes even I have to fight a battle like that.
The only thing I can do now is wait, have patience and write a new post on my blog proving my English skills that way ;)
I hope you read this, motherf*****!!!!

That feeling...

2010-03-26T20:05:00.002+01:00

It sometimes overcomes you. The strange feeling of deep sadness, disappointment and anger. And though you know that you have no right to be mad, you are.
You cry desperately, trying to find something you can break without missing it in a later moment, something that makes a heavy noise when it touches the floor, or the wall. You breathe heavily and shiver. You're getting cold. Your hands make strange movements in order to get something to grap and destroy.
When you look in the mirror you see the ugliest person you've ever seen. Your face is red and lightly swollen. The mirror reflects the picture of a selfish person, the selfish part of you. You feel you'd like to hit the mirror glass, but it wouldn't change things.
Suddenly, you feel sorry. You'd like to take back some of the bad things you said, would like to change what happened. And you hope you'll get the chance to make things right...

I'm sorry

We're human after all...

2009-11-26T00:27:00.001+01:00

How could something like that happen? He was used to losing the fight against the enemy, but it had never been so hard to see how useless he was. Sure, he had lost lots of men in all the wars he had started. But the fight had never taken away one of his closer friends.

This time, everything was different. Something had gone wrong and the young soldier Avon had fallen down into the black hole of death. The only witness was the young red-head. When she brought the bad news, he first had thought that she had been the one who had killed tho warrior. But when he had seen the true sadness on her face he had known that she was as shocked as he was and that she could never throw a friend down into the abyss.

He looked to the wagon. There was that big bag with Avon's clothes and other possessions. They'd have to burn or bury them, but maybe there was still something inside they could use for the fight against the bl... He had returned to the topic that had stolen his sleep for the last twelve years, since his mother had been killed by the Black Net. Since he had seen how Net agents cut her throat, he was sure he would cut the throat of those who had done that.

He never really cared about those souls who had joined his teams, those who supported him in his fight against the Net. He never cried when one, or two, or hundreds of them died. But now, it was different. They were only six people, five after Avon's death. And he knew and loved everyone like a brother. Just like he had loved Irion, the daughter of the woman who had raised him after the death of his mother. Since that day, Irion had been like a sister for him. But she had been killed by the Black Net as well...

Suddenly he knew what to do. He looked to his temmates, took a deep breath and said with a loud, clear and decisive voice: "Guys, I never allowed someone to leave my team once they joined it. But facing the facts, I have to let you go... It's more: you must go".

Roots

2009-07-02T00:01:00.006+02:00

I'm very thankful for all I've been given. I've learned a lot thanks to the journeys I have made. But when I see those who have grown up together, I still feel the strong desire to have some more connection to my roots.
I left my hometown and everyone who belonged to it when I was just a child. now I live in a completely different place. Here I'm a stranger. My body still discovers my real identity. No one here knew me when I was a child. I'd love to be more like them, but it's impossible. I can become a part of them, but never one of them. I can adat myself to their lifestyle, but I'll never share their roots.
On one hand, this makes me really sad. I don't belong to them, because I come from a different place, and I can't turn around and go back because I don't either belong to the place where I was born because I've been far away for so many years. It breaks my heart.
On the other hand. I couldn't have been luckier. I know many thing others don't know. I've seen places others will neves see. And while my past is wishing to feel the warm sun on its skin, I can really feel it.

Yes, I'm very thankful...

Baguette

2009-02-13T22:59:00.004+01:00

I still remember those endless journeys through Europe, only to get from my hometown to the wished Holiday spot near the Spanish coast. We had to travel over, under or through another big country - too big for me.

This is how I learned to hate it. I hate almost everything related to it. I hate the language, the people, the food, the culture, their highways, gas-stations, their cars. I hate (Oh my God, I love you so much just because we're in) Paris, I hate Lyon and Lourdes. I hate their president and their f***ing Topmodel-like First Lady.

I hate the whole area. If the coutry didn't exist, Germany and Spain would be neighbournations. But it does exist. So, I guess I'll have to keep on living with it.

But one day, when my BatCat rules the world, we're gonna eliminate them all.

Destroy France!

2008-11-06T00:40:00.003+01:00

We all know this feeling... It simply comes over you. Slowly... just to slit your wrist, to get into your veins and to follow them to your heart. This strange feeling... the need to kill.

It doesn't happen with he first person you see on a monday morning... It can't be anyone. (if you stop caring about who you want to kill, you could be considered dangerous and should call the ambulance immediately. The nice people are going to help you and soon the friendly men in white will appear. So, don't worry. Leave it to them.)

Usually, when we unconditionally want to see blood, this might happen with someone we really hate. When we start to analyse the differences between social groups and ages, we'll see that the objective of our hate and anger can vary. For a fourty year old man from a higher class, it could be the boss, his wife or his ex-wife. For a thirty year old woman, it's her husband and her mother-in-law. University students between 17 and 25, usually hate their parents... or their teachers.

And so, I saw him sitting on that table, just like I always do it (Chairs are often too low for me). In that moment I thought he could be something like a human. Of course, it was only a stupid idea; THAT couldn't really be a human being. I tried one more time to listen to his words, but with every past second it became more difficult. Would I be able to survive? When I already could hear the sweet sound of the bells of death, my mind floated away and saved my poor soul. I closed my eyes...

When I opened them, I only saw total emptiness. There was no light fountain in that place, but I could see everything, even though the not existing walls were black...
I started to run, but it felt like I couldn't move. I began to panic and tried to stretch my arms and legs to reach anything - but it was useless. Then... he appeared.

He was wearing the same clothing as a few minutes before in the classroom. Without thinking about it, I got closer. I didn't even notice that I was able to move again. He didn't seem to see me. I called his name, but he didn't react. Then I saw the big table behind me. On it, I found lots of weapons like guns, knifes and other blades, and different types of poison. I took a knife and imagined how it could feel to slit his throat. But I forgot that soon. It would be too fast and it wouldn't hurt him enough. So I took a bigger knife and started to cut his toes... one by one.
But his only reaction was that awful, ugly smile on his face.

I was torturing him and he was still smiling? After seeing that, I hated him even more. I took the knife and cut a clear line from his mouth down to his chin, on the right side of his face. Then, I did the same thing on the other side. Great! Now, he wasn't smiling anymore. But I wanted to see tears. I pushed the knife through his skin right under the eye. Immediately, red tears started to run down his cheeks. I was happy... I had created ART.

Memories, Skyscrapers and a Broken Umbrella

2008-10-07T02:01:00.004+02:00

And I thought I had forgotten you...
I really thought you'd never come back to keep me awake all night. But now, I can feel your presence - in my head. Just like my head and heart, no, like my whole body was a skyscraper and you'd be running up- and downstairs inside of it.
I've written so many songs about you - about my experience with you. How you saved my life, how I fell in love with you, and finally, how I forgot you...

I haven't seen you for over a year. And I haven't spoken with you for at least six months. For others, this may not be a long time. But for me and you, it is. I don't know why I remembered you. I'm happy. I don't need you any more... and you don't need me. You have got her.

Although... we all know that she will never be like me. She'll never be as tall as I am; she'll never get my great sense of humor, or my blue eyes; she won't be able to change her personality completele from one second to another just as I do everyday. She is not me. And you know it. And whenever you remember this, your heart aches and you stop breathing for two or three seconds. But you stay be her side. Thinking she'll make you happy until the day you die.

And maybe she will. But... who knows?

I just know that I don't want to remember you ever again. I've thrown away everything that reminds me of you and the time we've spent together. Our last photograph is hidden and lost. The collar my mother bought for me in YOUR hometown has been ripped. And even the umbrella, that awful song reminded me of ever and ever again, broke just a month ago.

You see, there's nothing here to remind me of you and your existence.
But I still feel your presence in my head...

So long and good night...

Run! Run! Run!

2008-09-25T23:29:00.005+02:00

She couldn't run any more step. Her heart was beating fast, not far away from an explosion. She didn't know how long she had been running through the shadows of the forest; between the old, black branches; passing by any type of animals and plants she hadn't seen in her whole life. She would have liked to stop and stare; to contemplate their beauty or ugliness; to smell their fresh aroma; to bow before the scary, mysterious power, they got from Mother Nature when they were created. But she couldn't take a rest. She had to keep on running as far as her feet would carry her.

But even the strongest feet couldn't run forever, and so, when she thought it could be enough, she fell down onto the soft soil, which was covered by a thick coat of grass. She closed her eyes for some moments and listened to the screams of her heart, which was aching in her chest, taking away all her strength. She tried to open her eyes, but as she looked up to the sky, she only saw a million of little different-coloured light points floating in the air. She thought it would be better if she rested a little longer and closed her eyes again.

Her whole body was aching and still shivering. Her feet hurt just like they were all bleeding. Her head was hot, probably screaming-red and felt like it could explode every second. Her hands had swollen lightly and looked rather like a builder's strong and dirty claw than the soft fingerfortress of a young lady - But who cared? She wasn't a lady, after all...

She turned her head to the left and opened her eyes again. She had fallen down just beside a tall tree. She didn't know what type of vegetal pillar it was since she had never been interested in trees, bushes or flowers. She almost hated every type of plants. It was something too feminine, she thought. But the height of the tree was quite impressive and it looked like it was stretching its highest braches like arms to get a little bit of eternal life from heaven. From where she was looking at it, it looked scary...

Scary? That was because she had been running...
She had been scared. Somebody or something had scared her and she only wanted to flee. But what had it been? An enemy? Somebody with bad intentions? Someone who wanted to kill her?
Sure, there were lots of people who'd have liked to see her dead, but she couldn't remember if she really had come across with one of those bad guys...
Or had she seen Death?

She tried to remember the moments before she had started running like a normal, young woman who was trying to save her child from becoming the victim of a crime. It happened when she arrived at this beautiful meadow near the waterfall where she had stayed for two days to recover from a sprain in her left leg. On that meadow, there was a small wooden house.
When she had got near to see who was inside, she had become a silent witness of a harmonic family scene. The young woman had been standing near the stone cooker, preparing dinner for her loved ones. The man had been sitting on the floor, with some kind of... wooden toy in his right hand...
And then, she had seen them...
The two children the man had been playing with... Two boys with short, brown hair and big smiles on their faces...

She hated children almost more than plants. The simple image of peaceful playing children was like a nightmare to her. She always denied that she had been a child too, long ago.
When her look had reached those two ugly faces, she had got scared, had turned around and had started to run...

She didn't want her life to end like that. She wanted to be travelling until the day she'd die. She was scared of that life form... That was all...
She got up and looked around.
No children around here...
She followed the sun's footsteps through the dark forest of Vardemnya, hoping that she'd never see any child's face again...

What they call "Faith"

2008-07-20T11:00:00.003+02:00

When I was a little girl, I always had to go to the church with my mother. Every sunday morning we went to the beautiful building right in front of our house. I always found the mass something boring and disgusting. But for my mother it really seemed to be some kind of help. Going to the church, attending the mass and praying to something bigger than you really helps the people to get through this life.

But what they were praying to was not God. It was the image their church had given them. Every culture and church has its own figure of a god. And they all give the same explanation for that: God has many faces. He can make wonders in many different places in the whole world at the same time. And everyone can make his own picture of his god. It sounds unbelievable.

Some years ago, I deeply believed in God - my own god. The only thing I was rebelling against was the Catholic Church. I didn't like their methods and arguments.
They say that there's no destiny, because if there was, we wouldn't be free. But if destiny doesn't exist, how could the angel tell Maria that she would give birth to the son of God and that that child one day would save humanity?
The whole Earth was created in seven days... yeah... right... and the woman was created from a rib of the man... I see...
What about the hundred million years when the human race didn't even exist on our planet?
"That was after Adam and Eve where expelled from paradise... when the world turned into a chaos." explained my mother to me.

o_O... Oh!... right. Now I understand it!

In that situations it's better not to try to argue. People who have found peace in their faith and the Church won't accept something else. So, no one should try to make then understand his own kind of truth. But also the believers shouldn't try to make us believe in their illusions.

Well, just as I said before, I once believed in God and the only thing I didn't like was the Catholic Church. But that has changed. I don't think God was ever by my side. If there is really a god, he must be cruel and evil.
When I was searching for happiness, that god only gave me sadness and depression. When I wanted to die, God didn't let me leave this world and made me suffer even more.

And I think that my mother thought the same when my father died. I remember that, before he left us, she always smiled during the mass in the church. After his death, she stopped smiling. Though she always said that her faith gave her the strength to move on, I think she just went to the church every sunday to conserve her image as a good Catholic.

Sorry...
I don't pray to God ¬¬

The power of loneliness

2008-07-15T13:08:00.002+02:00

I cannot say when it started. One day I fell into a deep depression. I felt lonely and powerless. I couldn't stop feeling that way. Something was missing - An adventure!

Yes. I've always been searching for something completely different. I wanted to get out of this grey world, where no one cares about the others. I wanted to change, to become a completely new person, to find joy and happiness, freedom, love and life. All those things I desired where out of my reach and I knew that my dream would never become true. That's why I started inventing stories.

I don't have talent to write down those thoughts and wishes. (Though, when I was a little girl, my dream was to become a writer ^^') That's the reason why I haven't told anyone about my blogs. Why... I created them?? I'm not sure. It was just a boredom attack - which, in the end, overcame me u_u (I'm so weak)

I think that you need a special gift to become a writer. You can't learn it. Inventing interesting stories is one thing, but telling them the way people stop only to listen to your words (or to read your text) is completely different. I hadn't that talent, I couln't make people enjoy my words. And so I decided to do something different - something I was able to learn. Because I've always been good working with my hands, I started drawing. And it seems like I've found my fountain of hope and life in this art.

My first steps were awful. But before running you need to know how to walk. So I kept on trying and I got much better. Though it's still not perfect... the characters start having some kind of shape... hehe. That's my way to express how I feel and to overcome my real daily problems. The characters I created were much stronger and more courageous than me and so they could destroy all the evil (which in our language means boredom) even in my own life.

I don't think I would be the same person if in my past I hadn't been that lonely for so long. I sometimes miss that. I'm not lonely any more. I know a lot of amazing people who avoid that. Real friendship destroys loneliness... Though loneliness was my fountain of creativity, imagination and ideas, I don't want to go back to then...

It's getting hot

2008-06-21T08:32:00.003+02:00

Now, Summer has arrived. The hot season beween spring and autumn. When I was younger it was my favourite one, but now things have changed. Since I started to work I learned that going to school is one of the biggest lucks in life.

My first summer job was in an office. I was 17 and my boss was one of the most powerful women in our little town. That time showed me that I'm not the best secretary ever and I slowly understood that I had to get out of there. I worked there only for one and a half month, but in that short time I got close to madness and depression.
After leaving the office I was working for two weeks in a little shop which was also owned by that crazy witch. Another bad experience I don't want to repeat.

The following year I started working at the bar where I still have to go every summer afternoon. I don't want to say my boss is an angel (he's definitely not), but he's much better than the crazy witch from the office. I like the people there a lot, although many of the other waiters or waitresses leave after only two months because they can't stand the boss any longer. But because of this I met lots of interesting people. Not only the waiters but also their friends, families or partners.

But nothing's better than going to school or University. When you start working you understand that. Especially when you get a work in a strange office for a crazy witch.

Those special objects...

2008-06-19T22:08:00.003+02:00

We all have got one. For us it's some kind of talisman. We think carrying it around brings luck. It could be a pen we passed a very important exam with, a photograph of a loved person or even something like a mobile phone (nowadays we need those little boxes more than the air we breath ¬¬ you know I'm right).

But sometimes something terrible happens - We lose those special objects and a weird time begins. We feel powerless and don't trust ourselves, also because we're not used to it. We think that everything we do and get is because of those little objects we carry around. The same thing happens if the special object reminds us of a loved person (like the example of the photograph before). We feel sad when we lose it. Because we pasted all our memories on the object an we feel like they got carried away.

But that's not true. Though all of those memories are a part of the lost objects, and will be until the end of time, they fall off them when those are lost. They stay with us though their homes are gone. They will guide us through hard times and often show us what we have to do. All those memories make us stronger. We are the ones who do all the things we do. We are the ones who pass the exam, even without that special pen. But we need that emotional support. The magical word in this case is self-confidence.

Believe in yourself or in a talisman... but believe.