the moment we find out about lies

so tell me, my hero, what is your plan now? will you even think of fixing it or will you just let it be. let it stay the way it is? when will you finally tell me it was nothing but a lie? but the most important question is- will you even have the guts to do so?
ah. you wanted to be the bravest man in the world, you wanted to be the most dangerous, serious and so motherfucking perfect in you actions, but you missed one, very important aspect of your life- you forgot to tell the truth. and the funny thing is- i dont care enough to even shed a tear over it. i dont care, i dont want, i dont miss. i hope it just sounds familiar to you, my hero. i really do hope so.
and now excuse me, i've got more important things to do in my life than wait for this pointless action our talks became.
you live your own life at the moment, maybe, just maybe, it's the perfect time for me to start living myself? maybe i should quit the hopeless waiting? what is there to wait for anyway? everlasting happiness? the so called love? do you really believe in these things? do you really think they exist, and even if they do, were they made for us to enjoy? i dont think so.
all i expect from you is truth. all i need is your proper, full-detail explanation of how things really were. i will now go and focus on the things i hate about you. while you, in the mean time can fuck yourself. 

Perfect

I would say it was all beautiful. The perfect image of living. The greens, yellows and reds, all bathed in the evening sun, laying on a backdrop of grey and navy rain beds. I would say even the mud-brown field surrounded by autumn trees was beautiful. But then again it's difficult for me to see anything beautiful when I know I partially don't belong to You anymore.

You are a godlike hero with power of life and death. Pockets full of stones.  Everlasting battle for survival.
What is an ordinary human to You? Why would You miss, want or love?

I'm no source of power. I'm no source of beauty nor pleasure. I have nothing to offer and yet I'd give away everything and anything for You. Why would You accept my life, my mind or my body? Why would You wish to have these things if You can have all the money, all the lives that exist in the entire universe?
I'm just another heartbeat among many pulses You can take away with a click of Your fingers. I'm just another lifeless breath and yet, I gasp for You.
Why do You love, my hero? I cannot understand why You'd like to spare the meaningless flow of sweet blood through my veins. What is it, that stops You from crushing me into pieces?

And yet, I do not want you. I do not want to be forced to be happy with someone I don't need. Guess why? I probably will always belong to somebody else. 

Religion

God- by leaving me two or 3 years ago showed me that faith is only a word and that religion doesn't have to mean to be down on your knees praying to some ghostly creature people tend to believe in; saints arent always good people and that prayers dont have to have a deeper spiritual meaning at all.
For some people music is their religion, as they say. Some may think art, others- pure laziness.
But theres a good few people who may say that it's love who they consider as their religion.
What do they really mean by this? Is it praying for love, praising the person they love or are they on a ''spread-the-love'' mission? Or is it when you know the melody of his heartbeat perfectly well and still want to listen to it all the time; or when you look into his eyes and you know this is the man you've been waiting for to save you;
Is it religion or is it still love? Or maybe religion really means to love something. To love somebody...?  Maybe it's the way you think of it, what you feel when you do so. This feeling of awe when he touches you, this utterly absurd rush of blood when he looks at you the way you love it, this feeling of... of heaven when he's beside you. Maybe to be in love means to be... in your own heaven? In a place where all the pain and worries of the ordinary, day-to-day life seem to be not your case any-more, a place when you are more than fully yourself and you know he loves it. And when he's not there with you, you feel as if your God left you, as if you belonged to no religion at all, and everything seems as right as wrong.
Maybe, just maybe, that's what it is.
But I guess, I'll never find it out. 

2000 Miles From Freedom

If we could only be quicker on the 2000 mile long road to freedom. Freedom from everything that's keeping me away from myself. It became dusty and rusty from waiting, from miserable efforts of escaping. It forgot how to function in real life. It forgot how to give me what I want. It can't be what I want if there's always something stopping me from running it. If I cant help my life, how can it help me?
But don't worry my friend, we'll be there in a while. Don't worry, I'll let you be free, and you, will show me how to live again.
After we pass the 2000 mile long road to freedom, we'll be the happiest creatures in the world. Me, and you, my dear friend, my life. We've been a waste for the past 3 months, whatever happened to us, we'll be fine in few hours. Just living it. Enjoying the moments of truth and laughs. We'd be surrounded by smoke and smell of happiness. We'll forget about everything, we'll delete the past, forget about the future. We'll stop planning everything and just run, hoping we won't be late.
So spontaneous and wild. So vivid, powerful and mine. So... free.
We will feel the sun on our skin, we will feel it really sinking in. It will be all ours.
We'll fall asleep on the beach, wake up in the forests and laugh in the streets of a busy city. We will do all that and lots more. We, my dear friend, will be free again.

We, will be ourselves, for the first time without him.

Your Majesty

Let me kiss your crown for the last time. Let me take one more look. Let me tell you I will always be curious before I go. Let me feel I'm yours for the last second.

You were my heaven and my hell. You were fire, water, air and earth of my existence. You made me think everything lasts forever. I was waiting for this time of THIS year for the past 2 years, just for you. I was waiting, expecting the best, loving you like the idiot I was, and of course, I was yours. Every time I needed help, I turned to you, every time I needed YOU, you were there. Whatever you said, I made it holy, whatever you thought I made it words, whatever you taught me, I still can't deny.  Anything that had anything to do with you, was untouchable, protected by my love to you, sacred. Anything you told me to do, or to stop doing, I'd do so. I was listening to you, because I knew you were always right. (Dude, you made me like dubstep, and that's pretty something).
You, you were the most irresistible and arrogant man I have ever had anything to do with in my entire life.
 And to be honest with you, your excuses were always good. They seemed...rational and always probable. God. And I was letting you fool me for all this time, I guess, I wanted to be lied to by you, rather than not having you at all. And yes, I was yours. More than you ever imagined anything to be yours. I remember you saying 'I will always love you', and now, this moment, I can easily say- BULLSHIT. Bullshit.

I was always scared of losing you, always wondering if you were happy enough  with me. If I was enough for you. And every time I'd hear a long monologue from you about how wonderful I was, how happy you are (sorry, WERE, is the word)  with me and how you'd never want anyone but me, and I, being me, I would argue, telling you there's someone better than me out there and that you should more than likely be with her instead of me, and then you'd tell me to shut the fuck up and that you'd never leave me, even for Johnny Depp. Then I'd be grumpy for the rest of the day, still imagining you with some other girl, and I'd be mad with you only because my imagination was too crazy. You'd be brief when talking to me, angry even though you were trying to hide it, and still, you'd tell me a million times over and over again you loved me more than your own life and still, I would argue...  how much of a stupid idiot I was to doubt it? Wasn't anything you said true and 'sacred'? Shouldn't I believe you? Shouldn't I just shut the fuck up and tell you I loved you too, instead of arguing? Maybe, if I didn't want to argue that much you'd still be mine?
I was so scared of losing you that I was mad with you for being mine. God, it sounds ridiculous. I just hope it makes sense to you, my dear readers, as much as it makes sense to me.
And what hurts the most is that I WAS right in the end. You DID end up with someone better than me. You DID decide you'd be happier with someone else. Even though you promised you'll always love me, even if you'd end up with someone else. Bullshit, once again. But you can't be in a happy relationship with one girl and still 'always love' other one. That's just not right, and you do only the right things. OK, I already accepted it, that you're happy, living your life with some girl I don't even know. Im guessing she's amazingly pretty, intelligent, funny and yours. I'm also guessing she loves you, (I mean, how can anyone NOT love you?), and I'm guessing you hold hands most of the time, you kiss her neck and hug her in front of your friends. I'm almost sure you tell her you love her every single minute of your day and I'm almost sure you two are happy together. 

For Lara

In the end it all comes to nothing. We end where we have began. In nothingness, with nothing, feeling nothing.
We shouldn't give our lives away to someone we haven't even met. To someone who stole us away, but still someone that cannot touch us.
And just because we are only humans, we are greedy, selfish and completely out of mind, losing control of time, feelings, ourselves. Haven't you notice the most obvious of all obvious things- that in fact, everything is changing at extremely huge speed, without any restrictions? That we, as creatures of vulnerable hearts and huge desire for love, started to lose our minds, our common sense, our fucking logic?!
Where did it go? Who has all these things now? When did it happen? How could we possibly let that happen? Did love blind both of us so much, that we forgot the reason of our journey?
We couldn't possibly love. Not them. Not now. Not like this. There was no possible way of working that out. It was something we could run away to, it was something new and something different. Our escapes, our dreams and matrix-like experiences. But whatever happens in Matrix, stays in Matrix. It could of been love, but with people of dream-like quality, with people who were never ours to have, who were never parts of our lives, ''lover''.
We could hurt them, we could make them laugh and upset them. But didn't they do the same things to us? Couldn't they just think of us as escapes? And escapes aren't always permanent. They aren't always real. Sometimes, they don't even exist. And, so, if we didn't exist for them, why should they exist for us?
Of course, it's going to hurt like a motherfucker, but we will make it our own way, we will be ''better tomorrow''. Each and every night is adequate to one chapter of our story that we finish writing. It will end sooner that we expect it to end. Inhale. Exhale. Let go.
I'm not saying that we will be all right in a day or two. It needs time. We need time. And when everything will be healed and the only thing left will be simple curiosity, we can always escape, to them, to the things we wanted to have and do with them. We can always escape to the past dreams of future. See, sometimes, future is past even before present happens.
Lover, there's a heaven above us. We'll manage.
We have each other. Our situations are the same, but with completely different people.
We are strong. We can let them go.

...And please don't cry.

When Future Never Happens

And here we go again. Home alone, cold and hungover.

I can say Im enjoying the sound of silence now, of course, only because my head wouldn't take louder sounds today. But anyway, I wont be so fond of silence tomorrow, if it happens. And of course, more than likely, it will happen, it will get me.
I always wanted more than I could ever lift. I wanted more and more even though I had almost everything. Almost.  I wanted to have everything closer than close enough, now I don't have it at all.
I wanted to discover new lands and by sailing into unknown I ended up in my own head. I woke up and now I know that everything I ever wanted, everything I ever thought I had was only a weightless illusion. And so, I let it fall into a great canyon of my own dreams. But just because I'm telling myself and the rest of the world that it's over, that I'm done with it, that I'm free, doesn't really mean that it's actually the end.
I'm a very complicated character in this play, sometimes, even Hamlet in all his "antic-disposition" would be easier to understand than me. Sometimes I think that it's water that keeps the fire burning, sometimes I think it's hatred that causes love. Even the most gentle whisper can cause avalanche. I don't seem to be using any logic now, ah?
It wasn't always like that. I had a brain once. I used to think logically, believe it or not. Before I let him happen, before I let us happen, and before I let the unknown happen I actually thought about it- for a very long time. I knew there would be no happy ending and still I did let it happen. Ah stupid 14 years old child. And since then my heart was always one step ahead of my logic.
Nothing would ever change it, nothing would ever help it. It was meant to be like this, we were meant to end up like this. There was no way for something like that to work.
I was falling asleep in your arms, I was waking up to your whispers, we were sitting on the roofs of the tallest buildings, I used to play with your hair when watching movies, even though, you were never here.
If it was only possible to write it all down, to write YOU down on a sheet of paper... I would leave you to the rain and let it wash the ink away, then, if there was anything left I'd give you to the fire. Maybe this would help.
Sometimes I regret that I even have Dulux, it's all his fault. Sometimes I regret being so naive. Sometimes, I regret loving you.
But then again, I knew well enough what I was getting myself into. I knew about the 2000 miles between us, and I knew about the difficulty of it all, and still I wanted you.

I always wanted more of you, I could never get enough.
I always wanted you.
I still do.

Love, Hope and Other Sins

I wouldn't write that if Nuno didn't ask me to. Uh. He's not going to like it.

I hate that time of each day. The time of me being surrounded by everything I hate so much.
Silence- nothing I can do about it. Nothing to make it go away. Nothing to say, nothing to do, but to think. I hate the way I have the tendency to think too much about the same thing over and over again. I try to re-imagine the things that would happen, the things that would make me the happiest person in the world. But then again, I cannot, I just can't relive the feeling of having hope.
Now, I'm stripped of any positive sense of thinking. At least back then, I used to have the comfort of hope, but now, I can't even believe in hope. No hope in hope.
Some nights are very difficult. When I can't fall asleep for a very long time, when I try to imagine possible answers to my never-ending 'why's'. And most of all, I try to imagine him, in all his glory, finding me. Coming back.
Why? I don't know. I guess that's just how much I miss him.
Sometimes, I wake up at night just to whisper his name, the sweetest name of all names, turn around and pretend I'm facing him and fall asleep again. Calmly this time.
I can't think about anything else but him. I can't imagine anything but him. I've learned to sacrifice my thoughts entirely to him and now I can't think about anything else. I hate the idea of being a slave to my own sick naiveness.
And his name- so sweet and true in my lips. His smile- the best in the entire universe. His eyes- never to look into mine. Never.
He was mine but then again I never really had him. I was his entirely but never his to touch.
And when I think about it, I can assure each and everyone of you that I will always be his. Even if I'll end up living happily ever after with someone else I will always be his. His truly. I will always belong to him- the one who stole me from myself.
I used to be so happy that I even asked gods to give me something to cry about. And they wouldn't listen to me. They wouldn't until April. In April they gave me tears made of my happiness. They turned my smiles and love into never-ending sequence of tears. If I could, if I only could I'd fly to him and beg him to have me back, and in my dreams he would have me in his arms. But of course none of this is going to happen. And of course, his eyes aren't mine to look into.
Nothing ever gets better. Never.

Rain

    I've been thinking about It a little recently- about, what would I actually write here. And I realised there's so much I'd like to write about at the moment. Everything is happening so quickly, sometimes, I get the feeling that I'm falling thirty seconds behind the time. But it wasn't always like this.
   ''I'm taking a walk in a pouring rain, without my umbrella. What's the point of bringing my umbrella if it's going to break straight after I open it? I can see raindrops on my hair, hear the splashing of water underneath my feet...'' which reminds me of careless childhood days in Poland. We would pretend to be ''Tomb Raiders'', ''Totally Spies'' and ''Powerpuff girls'', even if it rained. To be honest, we didn't like playing when the weather was nice. A nice weather meant that the possibilities of getting dirt all over your clothes and yourself were small, and the more dirty your clothes were, the better. ''Cause Lara Croft isn't scared to have dirt on her shirt''.
''I pass by a row of lime trees. Their sweet smell mixed with rain. That is the only place in Ireland that smells, and almost feels like Poland. And of course, I'm only after realising that just now.'' When I was eleven years of age, and I moved to Ireland, I missed (the so called) 'home' for a very long time. I was just a kid when I had to start 'all over again' in a completely new country, with a completely new people and a language in which I could only say 'yes, no and coca-cola' when I first came here. It wasn't easy to accept new things all at once, I guess, that one of the hardest things to accept about Ireland was the fact that Irish people tend to drive upstream... But I got used to it, in the end, just as I got used to the rain. And I must admit, I started to like it, even in huge amounts Ireland offers us.
As the time passed, I started to get to know new people, I learned 'communicative' English very quickly, well, thanks to my nerdy nature. As I talked to more and more Irish people, and improved my English time by picking up few new words a day, I learned the great differences between Irish and Polish people. In the end, at the age of 13, I ended up surrounded only by Irish people.
'' I look around. Looking at my Ireland around me. Trying to memorise it as much as possible. I'm going to need these memories, these details. I see a man in a window. I smile at him, as spontaneously as I used to do when I was a child. And... he smiles back and waves at me.'' One main difference between 'Polish and Irish' is that a recipe for 'Typical Irish Character' would be :''Take a good bit of charm, joke, sympathetic frame of mind and talkativeness. Add some melancholy, day dreaming, and tendency to spontaneity. Gently steer.'', while a recipe for a 'Typical Polish Character'' (from what I have experienced in my life so far) would be: ''Take a good bit of pride, 'patriotism' and unexplained love for arguments. Add some jealousy, a tiny bit acceptance and steer'', but this 'recipe for a Polish character' isn't always correct, there are few exceptions. But when it comes to Polish people living in Ireland.. ah, they all seem to believe nothing can beat Poland nor anything that's Polish; they all seem to believe they're unbeatable. That they're a nation too good to even talk with somebody from outside of Poland. Sometimes I wonder, why such people left Poland if she is so goddamn good to them?

    ''Walking by the riverside. It started to rain again. Puddles everywhere. I jump into them feeling like a nine year old child again. Im soaked anyway. Some more water in my shoes won't make much difference.'' And I felt as if I was back in Poland again. I didnt miss it after I met her, cause everything seemed so goddamn good that I didnt want anything more.
In may 2010 Poland took her away from me. In September 2010 fifth year started and everything was going great again. All of the people that I now call my friends are the people I've been looking for, since I came here for the first time,and now, I can easily say that these people made me believe that Ireland is my home, that I fully and truly accept it, and that in fact, I absolutely love it. Since I finished any 'friendships' with any of the 'people of the past' I could think, say and be who SHE made me. Who I have always been. Inside.
   ''I stop for a while and look at the circles in the water. They never meet. No matter how big they are, or how many of them there is, they will never ever meet.'' My clothes were soaked at this stage. But I didn't care. I just kept walking through the puddles, with my head down and hood on. I realised that even though I am very happy here, in my own rainy heaven, I need changes again. I guess that's my nature, I can't be happy for a long time unless some radical changes take place in my life. And here I am, imagining my life in Poland. What would it be like if I moved back. Would I feel like a foreigner in my own country? Would I be able to be so extremely happy there, as I am here? Would I be able to accept Polish mentality on a bigger scale? I guess I wouldn't, just as I didn't accept Ireland at first, only because it dragged me away from my home. But I've been living in Ireland for 6 years now, and Ireland had enough time to inject all her good things into my brain, so I guess, going back to Poland wouldn't be as bad... And even if it wouldn't work out, I could always come back, right?
''I turn my head to the sky and let the rain tickle my face. I eventually take my hood off'''.

For you, a thousand times over

I wake up thinking what's causing all of this. I fall asleep thinking why things aren't right anymore. And of course, all I can think about are only the worst things. I guess, whoever was born pessimist will die a pessimist.
And he's so goddamn true, so so... real that he doesn't want to lie to me, or tell me the truth only because he's incapable of hurting anyone. Oh! But why now? Why just 2 months before 'the day'. Why?

We were the happiest people on Earth,
We lied in bed together. Saying nothing. Nothing at all, just staring into each other's eyes. And when I slept, I could feel your gentle touch on my arms.
We watched the stars together. We walked in the streets by night. We kissed in most crowded places. We talked, without using words. You were mine and I was yours.
And of course, none of the above ever happened. And, never will.

Can you miss a person whom, in fact, you never ever met in your life? Can you miss a person who never was there with you?

Can you wait for 2 years for a person of your dreams? Can you even function like a normal person constantly waiting? Waiting and not being sure if it will ever happen at all.
But I would do anything for him. Anything to be with him. Anything just... to see how it is like having him beside me.
''For him, a thousand times over''

Really

How come we can get stabbed in the back so many times and never feel the pain? How could we become so cold, so 'strong' and so... indifferent to everything that happens around us.
Looks like we have never grown up. We still play. We still act. We still pretend.
How many times did they ask you 'how are you', you answered them, and then they said 'no really, how are you?'. Is it because we're scared of telling people how we really feel? Is it because we don't want them to see that we, as human beings, still have our weaknesses? Or is it because we got so used to acting things out that we can't even tell the difference between the real feelings and fake feelings?
People lie to us, we lie to others. It's so normal nowadays. But why is 'lie' our second nature? We even lie to make somebody feel better, to even somebody's life. Looks like 'lie' has become the weapon of 21st century.
And I could ask you many, many questions to which you could answer many, many things, but still in the end, I'd repeat the question and add 'really' at the end of it, just to make you stop and think. To make sure YOU are sure of the answer. But of course, the most important of all questions I could ask you is:
Are you happy?
I mean...REALLY?

Freedom, magic and mental issues

Ok, I haven't been posting anything that made sense in a while. I guess I just needed time to get myself together once again. Not, that I've been in deep depression for all this time, but... I just needed a rest from writing, try to understand. Not that you missed my or anything, but anyway.
Sometimes, it takes longer than we expected to get over some things. It's not about a love issue, or maybe it is, but not the kind of love you may think it is. I DON'T DO male-female love. It's not my thing, as I said before- my wallet isn't designed for that kind of things. I missed a friend. I've mentioned that before as well.
So, many of you may say that time is a greedy thing. A selfish bitch that decides to take precious little details from your memory and keep it for itself, but oh, look at the other thing that 'greedy, selfish bitch' does. Not always it takes the good stuff from us. It may also take pain, frustration and sorrow from us. I realised that only few days ago.
I made a deal with time. I gave him the bad things, he gave me back only the good stuff I missed, and needed the most. I never wanted to think bad about the good, but sometimes you just can't keep the positive thinking by your side. Sometimes you just gotta let go, stop, drown in the ocean of your selfish, masochistic thoughts, then rearrange them, just as you do with furniture in your room, and close them. Lock the door and just leave. Try not to come back to them. Never to open that door again, but as I said, it's almost impossible to do.
Now, I'm left with the good things on my own. But only because something is considered to be good, does it mean it's actually good?
As Sogyal Rinpoche said it's the good things that usually bring obstacles to our lives.
Is he right?

Wallet

Some people loose their minds. Some phones. Others loose their wallets.
And yes, wallets are somethings I'd like to talk about tonight. Or use them as a comparison to something completely different, at least.

Wallet isn't a very good place for money. I mean... think about it. When you have money in your wallet you feel like spending it. And you keep on buying new things (which, in fact, are useless pieces of crap you're going to throw in the corner of your room and never look at them again). And when you are going to buy another thing, you take out your wallet out of your back pocket only to realise you've only got 2c left in it.
And maybe I am not designed for love related affairs?
Everytime I decide to open my heart and take some love out of it, I always tend to loose control over it. I take out too much. I keep on giving too much. And this is why I tend to wake up one day to find myself completely miserable and empty.
But somewhere, deep in my conscience (I like that word. I learned it while reading Hamlet) I know I have to leave something for later. I know I have to leave some of it so that I can a starting point from which I could restore what I've lost.
Of course, that's when nothing works out between body A and body B.
But when it DOES work out and when we BOTH feel the force of attraction... well then, that's a completely different story. I guess.
Cause guessing is all I can do at the moment. I didn't get the chance to experience the other option yet.
Goodnight.