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.