I am a bloody wreck.
I actually scared Teo by starting to cry out of nowhere. You know why I started crying?
Because I suddenly remembered that when I was a kid, my father brought home a puppy, that he said a kind man gave to him. My mother got really upset, but said I should think about it well and tell them if I want to keep it. The puppy didn't look too impressive, so I asked my father if he could take it back to the man he got it from. A certain sadness showed on his face for a few seconds, but then he tried to compose himself and told me, stuttering, that it's perfectly fine.
Only now did I realize, that puppy wasn't given to him by anyone. And that sadness on my father's face was due to the fact he would have to release him back to the cold, unloving world, because the little creature wasn't cute enough for me.
I don't know why I remembered it, but it hit home badly.
I don't know what's up with me these days. I spent about two hours the other day, crying.
Maybe it's just been too long. Maybe I try to be stronger than I really am. Or maybe I need something...something that will make me forget all the other shit I am sinking in.
The darkness is the only place I escape to.
Tuesday 16 November 2010
Friday 12 November 2010
Henry.
It was a beautiful summer day. Henry was sitting in his rock chair with Walt, his dog, by his side. Henry’s wife, Anne, always thought Walt was a silly name for a dog. “It’s like naming your child Buddy! There are human names and there are dog names, Henry!” He knew though, she didn’t mean it. Anne loved Walt just as much as Henry did.
Sun was high in the sky, and the old man closed his eyes. He felt tired, although he couldn’t say he did anything special on that day. He closed his eyes and remembered everything... But most of all, Anne... He remembered the day she walked out of the sea and into his life.
Henry always loved the ocean, he used to spend days and days, just staring at it, wondering if there are any others, just like him, who come and watch the waves, running to the shore.
And one of those days, She came.
She slowly walked out of the sea and the sun lit her smiling face. She walked towards Henry. At that point he was almost certain he was dreaming. Her hazel eyes sparkled and looked straight into Henry. Anne stopped two feet in front of him.
“Hello”.
This is how their story began.
What a beautiful story, Henry thought to himself. It’s a perfect story to tell to your children. Ah, if only…
They were so happy. Not long from that day they would spend time by the sea together, staring at the horizon and eating sandwiches with ham that Anne used to make. They would laugh and talk, until the sunset and then go home, eagerly waiting for the sunrise, so they can meet again. Nobody was surprised, when Anne and Henry decided to get married.
Their wedding was simple, Henry couldn’t afford much, but Anne’s face shined like never before. Henry always felt guilty for not providing the life, that Anne deserved and on their wedding day it showed on his face. But Anne was never concerned about being wealthy. “Henry, you fool, you made me happier, than I could ever imagine, and that, my dear, is a million times more important, than that big diamond ring you think I want.”
Anne always knew, how to cheer Henry up. Some days, he just couldn’t believe he had her, so he would turn over in bed and check, if that perfect woman is really sleeping next to him.
And there, slightly smiling, she would sleep.
Although Anne always seemed at peace, there were things, that wouldn’t let her be completely happy.
To have children was Henry’s and Anne’s biggest dream. Unfortunately, no matter how many doctors they visited and how much money they spent, Anne still couldn’t conceive. Although Henry really wanted to have children, he never said anything to his wife. But as we all know, things we don’t say are just as important, as the ones we do, and Anne never got over not being able to have children.
Time passed and they stopped trying to conceive. Instead, one day, for her 50th birthday, Henry got his wife a dog and named him Walt. It was a sweet, energetic puppy, who soon became the joy of their family. He would join them to their walks to the sea and gambol about, while the owners drink tea and eat sandwiches.
Anne would always sneak some ham for Walt, when Henry wasn’t watching, since he believed, that this was “spoiling the dog and the ham”.
Henry opened his eyes and sighed. There were quite a lot of things he would have changed, if he could. He left her by herself too much, too many evenings he was too tired to touch her and being proud, as he was, he never accepted help from anyone, even when he needed it.
He could clearly remember the time, when they visited her parents.
What a disaster.
Malcolm Bitter was a rich man, riches was all he had, since what was inside of him, was worth practically nothing. His last name fitted him like a glove.
He never liked Henry and he wasn’t too shy to show it every time their paths crossed.
On that particular day, Malcolm, as usually, enjoyed his time humiliating Henry in front of his wife and mother-in-law. This time, as many others, the topic was money.
“You know, I thought to myself, it is not my poor daughter’s fault she has no taste for men at all, nor does she know what’s best for her. So I am willing to be generous and transfer money to your bank account every month. You do know what a bank account is, don’t you, Riley?”-he said with a sarcastic smile on his face.
“It is that odd place where people keep their money. You know, when they actually manage to earn something.”
This is where Henry couldn’t hold it anymore.
“With all do respect, Sir, I know perfectly well what a bank account is. Anne and I are completely satisfied with the way we live and we do not need your money to bring us happiness. It sure hasn’t brought you any.”
He grabbed Anne by the hand and stormed out, knowing he will never step foot in that house again.
Without the father in the way, they could enjoy their life together in peace.
Walt was about two years old, when Henry decided he would make an old dream come true and build a house by the sea. It took him five years, but it was finally done in summer, just in time for their 35th wedding anniversary.
For the first time in his life, Henry was really proud of himself. This house was theirs. Here they will spend the rest if their lives together. Here they will sit in rocking chairs in their terrace, drinking tea and eating sandwiches with ham. Here they will be happy.
Henry then retired, so he could spend more time with his wife.
“If only I knew then, how little time I had…”
The house was perfect. It was white with blue shutters, big terrace in the front, with a view of the ocean. Henry even made a bed with canopy, because Anne always wanted one.
He could see the house made her happier, she would dance in the kitchen with her eyes closed, when she thought Henry wasn’t watching. With sea by their side, she would go swimming almost every day, although she was now far from young.
One of these days, she kissed him on the forehead and left for her usual swim.
Henry decided he could use the time and make a surprise dinner for his wife. He was never a good cook, but this was a way of saying “I love you” for him, since he was never too good with words, when it came to feelings. He burned the meat, broke a plate and messed up the sauce, but the whole process made him extremely happy. “I should do this more often.” – he smiled to himself.
He then lit the candles, his hands slightly shaking, and sat by then table.
“She’s taking her time today. No wonder, it’s a beautiful day outside.” He evened the tablecloth impatiently. The clock now showed seven. She always comes back by six.
Henry decided to go to the beach, still thinking of a lie to come up with, so he doesn’t spoil the surprise.
She was nowhere to be seen. Nor the beach, nor the sea. Henry felt lost. He couldn’t believe it. It cannot happen. This isn’t happening. Her clothes... They’re neatly laying on the beach. But Anne’s gone.
A painful scream resounded through the beach and a few scared seagulls flew away. A man on his knees was sobbing loudly.
The pain was unbearable, like someone would have taken his heart straight out of his chest. The days stood still. It was as if he had spent a thousand years alone with his misery. He slowly became numb. He wouldn’t eat or go to the beach... He couldn’t. It reminded him of her. He tried to, a few times. He even tried to make sandwiches with ham. They tasted different. It wasn’t Anne’s sandwiches, which he loved so much.
Walt also missed Anne. The strangest thing is, he wouldn’t go to the beach anymore. Before Anne’s death, he would spend days there, playing, but now he spent all his days, laying on the terrace. This is when Henry realized how much Walt loved Anne.
Henry made Anne’s gravestone himself. It was the last thing that he wanted to do for her. He buried her by the house and engraved his last words to his wife: “The sea gave you to me and the sea took you away, but I still see you, every time I meet the sunrise.”
Henry noticed, that Walt looked just as depressed as Henry himself. The dog, though, was the last thing that he had, from that lost life with Anne. One day Walt left and never came back. Henry didn’t know, if the dog left, because it was his time to go, or if he left because he could feel, how his being made the owner even more depressed. The old man was now completely alone.
It was early morning and Henry woke up in his bed. He turned over, longing to look at her sleepy smile. He would have given anything, anything in the whole wide world for her to be there. For at least a minute. One short minute with Anne.
She wasn’t there. Henry closed his eyes and sighed. He slowly got out of bed, put on his dressing-gown and went to the bathroom. An old, tired man was looking back at him from the mirror. His blue eyes filled with tears again. It’s her birthday today. Nothing more he would love, than giving her a birthday kiss and cooking her some burnt roast.
He took his daily medicine for every single organ he had and went to the kitchen. While making his breakfast, a small box grabbed Henry’s attention. His hands shook. He reached for the box, already knowing, what’s in it. And there, in a small box, was the biggest decision in his life so far. It was a letter to her.
“My dearest Anne,
You know I was never good with words. But this, my dear, you must know. You are the reason I wake up in the morning. You came into my life and changed everything. I was lonely and I was lost, but you… You came like an Indian summer, when I didn’t expect anything from life. You shook me and you showed me the brightest colors imaginable. I do not know, what I did right, to deserve such happiness, to deserve you. What I am trying to say, Anne… I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And we will live by the sea, I will make you a bed with canopy, that you always wanted and we will be happy. I know I am not wealthy, not like those men your father would like you to marry, but I do promise you I will love you, no matter what happens. And any difficulties we will face won’t be so difficult anymore, because you will have me and I will have you.
Anne, marry me, or rip my heart out now, because I cannot live without you.
Yours with hope,
Henry”
The old man started crying silently. He held the letter to his heart and closed his eyes. He realized the pain will not go away. He will spend the rest of the last few years he had in misery, missing the woman he loved. Henry put the letter in his pocket. He then took some camomiles from the vase and went to Anne’s grave. With love, Henry carefully put the flowers on his wife’s grave and moved towards the sea.
The ocean was calm that day. So was Henry. He was finally at peace. The edges of his dressing gown floated in the water, as he went deeper and deeper in the ocean.
The sun was rising, as Henry went out to sea. As he went out to Anne.
Sun was high in the sky, and the old man closed his eyes. He felt tired, although he couldn’t say he did anything special on that day. He closed his eyes and remembered everything... But most of all, Anne... He remembered the day she walked out of the sea and into his life.
Henry always loved the ocean, he used to spend days and days, just staring at it, wondering if there are any others, just like him, who come and watch the waves, running to the shore.
And one of those days, She came.
She slowly walked out of the sea and the sun lit her smiling face. She walked towards Henry. At that point he was almost certain he was dreaming. Her hazel eyes sparkled and looked straight into Henry. Anne stopped two feet in front of him.
“Hello”.
This is how their story began.
What a beautiful story, Henry thought to himself. It’s a perfect story to tell to your children. Ah, if only…
They were so happy. Not long from that day they would spend time by the sea together, staring at the horizon and eating sandwiches with ham that Anne used to make. They would laugh and talk, until the sunset and then go home, eagerly waiting for the sunrise, so they can meet again. Nobody was surprised, when Anne and Henry decided to get married.
Their wedding was simple, Henry couldn’t afford much, but Anne’s face shined like never before. Henry always felt guilty for not providing the life, that Anne deserved and on their wedding day it showed on his face. But Anne was never concerned about being wealthy. “Henry, you fool, you made me happier, than I could ever imagine, and that, my dear, is a million times more important, than that big diamond ring you think I want.”
Anne always knew, how to cheer Henry up. Some days, he just couldn’t believe he had her, so he would turn over in bed and check, if that perfect woman is really sleeping next to him.
And there, slightly smiling, she would sleep.
Although Anne always seemed at peace, there were things, that wouldn’t let her be completely happy.
To have children was Henry’s and Anne’s biggest dream. Unfortunately, no matter how many doctors they visited and how much money they spent, Anne still couldn’t conceive. Although Henry really wanted to have children, he never said anything to his wife. But as we all know, things we don’t say are just as important, as the ones we do, and Anne never got over not being able to have children.
Time passed and they stopped trying to conceive. Instead, one day, for her 50th birthday, Henry got his wife a dog and named him Walt. It was a sweet, energetic puppy, who soon became the joy of their family. He would join them to their walks to the sea and gambol about, while the owners drink tea and eat sandwiches.
Anne would always sneak some ham for Walt, when Henry wasn’t watching, since he believed, that this was “spoiling the dog and the ham”.
Henry opened his eyes and sighed. There were quite a lot of things he would have changed, if he could. He left her by herself too much, too many evenings he was too tired to touch her and being proud, as he was, he never accepted help from anyone, even when he needed it.
He could clearly remember the time, when they visited her parents.
What a disaster.
Malcolm Bitter was a rich man, riches was all he had, since what was inside of him, was worth practically nothing. His last name fitted him like a glove.
He never liked Henry and he wasn’t too shy to show it every time their paths crossed.
On that particular day, Malcolm, as usually, enjoyed his time humiliating Henry in front of his wife and mother-in-law. This time, as many others, the topic was money.
“You know, I thought to myself, it is not my poor daughter’s fault she has no taste for men at all, nor does she know what’s best for her. So I am willing to be generous and transfer money to your bank account every month. You do know what a bank account is, don’t you, Riley?”-he said with a sarcastic smile on his face.
“It is that odd place where people keep their money. You know, when they actually manage to earn something.”
This is where Henry couldn’t hold it anymore.
“With all do respect, Sir, I know perfectly well what a bank account is. Anne and I are completely satisfied with the way we live and we do not need your money to bring us happiness. It sure hasn’t brought you any.”
He grabbed Anne by the hand and stormed out, knowing he will never step foot in that house again.
Without the father in the way, they could enjoy their life together in peace.
Walt was about two years old, when Henry decided he would make an old dream come true and build a house by the sea. It took him five years, but it was finally done in summer, just in time for their 35th wedding anniversary.
For the first time in his life, Henry was really proud of himself. This house was theirs. Here they will spend the rest if their lives together. Here they will sit in rocking chairs in their terrace, drinking tea and eating sandwiches with ham. Here they will be happy.
Henry then retired, so he could spend more time with his wife.
“If only I knew then, how little time I had…”
The house was perfect. It was white with blue shutters, big terrace in the front, with a view of the ocean. Henry even made a bed with canopy, because Anne always wanted one.
He could see the house made her happier, she would dance in the kitchen with her eyes closed, when she thought Henry wasn’t watching. With sea by their side, she would go swimming almost every day, although she was now far from young.
One of these days, she kissed him on the forehead and left for her usual swim.
Henry decided he could use the time and make a surprise dinner for his wife. He was never a good cook, but this was a way of saying “I love you” for him, since he was never too good with words, when it came to feelings. He burned the meat, broke a plate and messed up the sauce, but the whole process made him extremely happy. “I should do this more often.” – he smiled to himself.
He then lit the candles, his hands slightly shaking, and sat by then table.
“She’s taking her time today. No wonder, it’s a beautiful day outside.” He evened the tablecloth impatiently. The clock now showed seven. She always comes back by six.
Henry decided to go to the beach, still thinking of a lie to come up with, so he doesn’t spoil the surprise.
She was nowhere to be seen. Nor the beach, nor the sea. Henry felt lost. He couldn’t believe it. It cannot happen. This isn’t happening. Her clothes... They’re neatly laying on the beach. But Anne’s gone.
A painful scream resounded through the beach and a few scared seagulls flew away. A man on his knees was sobbing loudly.
The pain was unbearable, like someone would have taken his heart straight out of his chest. The days stood still. It was as if he had spent a thousand years alone with his misery. He slowly became numb. He wouldn’t eat or go to the beach... He couldn’t. It reminded him of her. He tried to, a few times. He even tried to make sandwiches with ham. They tasted different. It wasn’t Anne’s sandwiches, which he loved so much.
Walt also missed Anne. The strangest thing is, he wouldn’t go to the beach anymore. Before Anne’s death, he would spend days there, playing, but now he spent all his days, laying on the terrace. This is when Henry realized how much Walt loved Anne.
Henry made Anne’s gravestone himself. It was the last thing that he wanted to do for her. He buried her by the house and engraved his last words to his wife: “The sea gave you to me and the sea took you away, but I still see you, every time I meet the sunrise.”
Henry noticed, that Walt looked just as depressed as Henry himself. The dog, though, was the last thing that he had, from that lost life with Anne. One day Walt left and never came back. Henry didn’t know, if the dog left, because it was his time to go, or if he left because he could feel, how his being made the owner even more depressed. The old man was now completely alone.
It was early morning and Henry woke up in his bed. He turned over, longing to look at her sleepy smile. He would have given anything, anything in the whole wide world for her to be there. For at least a minute. One short minute with Anne.
She wasn’t there. Henry closed his eyes and sighed. He slowly got out of bed, put on his dressing-gown and went to the bathroom. An old, tired man was looking back at him from the mirror. His blue eyes filled with tears again. It’s her birthday today. Nothing more he would love, than giving her a birthday kiss and cooking her some burnt roast.
He took his daily medicine for every single organ he had and went to the kitchen. While making his breakfast, a small box grabbed Henry’s attention. His hands shook. He reached for the box, already knowing, what’s in it. And there, in a small box, was the biggest decision in his life so far. It was a letter to her.
“My dearest Anne,
You know I was never good with words. But this, my dear, you must know. You are the reason I wake up in the morning. You came into my life and changed everything. I was lonely and I was lost, but you… You came like an Indian summer, when I didn’t expect anything from life. You shook me and you showed me the brightest colors imaginable. I do not know, what I did right, to deserve such happiness, to deserve you. What I am trying to say, Anne… I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And we will live by the sea, I will make you a bed with canopy, that you always wanted and we will be happy. I know I am not wealthy, not like those men your father would like you to marry, but I do promise you I will love you, no matter what happens. And any difficulties we will face won’t be so difficult anymore, because you will have me and I will have you.
Anne, marry me, or rip my heart out now, because I cannot live without you.
Yours with hope,
Henry”
The old man started crying silently. He held the letter to his heart and closed his eyes. He realized the pain will not go away. He will spend the rest of the last few years he had in misery, missing the woman he loved. Henry put the letter in his pocket. He then took some camomiles from the vase and went to Anne’s grave. With love, Henry carefully put the flowers on his wife’s grave and moved towards the sea.
The ocean was calm that day. So was Henry. He was finally at peace. The edges of his dressing gown floated in the water, as he went deeper and deeper in the ocean.
The sun was rising, as Henry went out to sea. As he went out to Anne.
More frustration.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ODReXfrsmfU
Above is the song that depicts my mood perfectly. Hm.
Damn it. I'm a bloody marshmallow. Unhealthy, and I know it.
And I can't even explain it to myself. I am actually ANGRY at myself for this. I did not plan this. I do not want this. I want to move on with the shitload of things I need to focus on right now.
Argh!!! If only I could get away for a week, maybe a nice, sunny resort somewhere south. Pina coladas and random adventures with random guys who don't matter.
Lately I feel like the walls are closing in on me. I feel bloody miserable and I hate it because I know how miserable people make me feel. I am bitter and I hurt the people I love. I try to close myself off, unsuccessfully. And people can see right through me, even though I thought I was doing a bloody good job covering it up. Sometimes I feel like there's a wound near my chest that opens up from time to time, and I can barely stand on my feet.
Know what, we live in ignorant times. If I feel like breaking down, falling to my knees and crying in public, I should be able to. No judging.
Fuck. You know what my problem is? I live in my own world too much.
I created this place, this perfect place, where everything is just fine and the real life, therefore, upsets me even more because of it. How on earth do I get out of bed in the morning, I don't know. If I could spend my whole time daydreaming, I would.
I know, it's pathetic. But there you go.
When I close my eyes, I don't need to be anywhere tomorrow, the sun is shining every day of the year, the music never stops, chocolate does not make you fat, strangers are smiling at you as they pass you by on the street, friendship is real and love is forever, you can sleep in every single day, nobody ever dies and there's no such thing as happiness. Because there's no such thing as sadness.
You take my hand and tell me it's okay.
...let me dream.
Above is the song that depicts my mood perfectly. Hm.
Damn it. I'm a bloody marshmallow. Unhealthy, and I know it.
And I can't even explain it to myself. I am actually ANGRY at myself for this. I did not plan this. I do not want this. I want to move on with the shitload of things I need to focus on right now.
Argh!!! If only I could get away for a week, maybe a nice, sunny resort somewhere south. Pina coladas and random adventures with random guys who don't matter.
Lately I feel like the walls are closing in on me. I feel bloody miserable and I hate it because I know how miserable people make me feel. I am bitter and I hurt the people I love. I try to close myself off, unsuccessfully. And people can see right through me, even though I thought I was doing a bloody good job covering it up. Sometimes I feel like there's a wound near my chest that opens up from time to time, and I can barely stand on my feet.
Know what, we live in ignorant times. If I feel like breaking down, falling to my knees and crying in public, I should be able to. No judging.
Fuck. You know what my problem is? I live in my own world too much.
I created this place, this perfect place, where everything is just fine and the real life, therefore, upsets me even more because of it. How on earth do I get out of bed in the morning, I don't know. If I could spend my whole time daydreaming, I would.
I know, it's pathetic. But there you go.
When I close my eyes, I don't need to be anywhere tomorrow, the sun is shining every day of the year, the music never stops, chocolate does not make you fat, strangers are smiling at you as they pass you by on the street, friendship is real and love is forever, you can sleep in every single day, nobody ever dies and there's no such thing as happiness. Because there's no such thing as sadness.
You take my hand and tell me it's okay.
...let me dream.
Thursday 11 November 2010
Trust.
You take your tiny little heart, still beating, fragile, like a bird, and you hand it over.
You don't care whether it will be broken. You give it away because it no longer belongs to you. All you can do is hope.
And then sometimes, very rarely, you get a tiny little heart back.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v7T2135xCZQ
You don't care whether it will be broken. You give it away because it no longer belongs to you. All you can do is hope.
And then sometimes, very rarely, you get a tiny little heart back.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v7T2135xCZQ
Wednesday 10 November 2010
Insomnia
Right. It is 6AM. I woke up and cannot go back to sleep. There is so much on my mind right now, no wonder I can't doze off.
First, there is the final project. My main headache. I'm confident with the idea I have, my only concern is that my crew are graduates and University might not let me work with people outside it. And..Knowing myself I'm afraid everything will be disorganized.
Another problem is, I seem to have a crush on a person, who is very, very wrong for me, because he is:
a) a dick
b) not interested.
Obviously, therefore, I am very interested.
In a feeble attempt to change something about me, I dyed my hair red, hoping that with red hair I might experience a change of heart and run away with a woman named Rhonda.
What can I say, the hair looks good. Unfortunately, my loyalties do not change.
I guess it comes with cold weather, the need of warmth. Or maybe the time I could spending being single and sane is over. Thing is, I don't really need anyone. Well that's what I like to tell myself. But really. I don't cry myself to sleep because I don't have someone. I don't go around telling everyone who listens, what a sad panda I am, that I have nobody to share panda hugs with. Pardon the South Park reference.
Ahhh, I don't know, maybe it's just change I need. So I dye my hair.
Last night I dreamt of buildings so tall, I could not see the ground.
First, there is the final project. My main headache. I'm confident with the idea I have, my only concern is that my crew are graduates and University might not let me work with people outside it. And..Knowing myself I'm afraid everything will be disorganized.
Another problem is, I seem to have a crush on a person, who is very, very wrong for me, because he is:
a) a dick
b) not interested.
Obviously, therefore, I am very interested.
In a feeble attempt to change something about me, I dyed my hair red, hoping that with red hair I might experience a change of heart and run away with a woman named Rhonda.
What can I say, the hair looks good. Unfortunately, my loyalties do not change.
I guess it comes with cold weather, the need of warmth. Or maybe the time I could spending being single and sane is over. Thing is, I don't really need anyone. Well that's what I like to tell myself. But really. I don't cry myself to sleep because I don't have someone. I don't go around telling everyone who listens, what a sad panda I am, that I have nobody to share panda hugs with. Pardon the South Park reference.
Ahhh, I don't know, maybe it's just change I need. So I dye my hair.
Last night I dreamt of buildings so tall, I could not see the ground.
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