Time to come back

The first time I made break I was away from blog for a year
Now, it is more than two.
Next one will probably be three
or I will never stop
Who knows?

First things first and back on the track:

I live in the house now
I live with the man I love
I will marry him in September
(when is the time when weddings happen)

I have what is known as good job
(basically lots and lots creativity and paid well)

I am submitting my thesis at the end of the month
(Narrative Inquiry blah parent blah blah)
If you want to know what I learned, read it!
Or ask me.

I met Neil Gaiman and he is a nice person.
I discovered Laurie Penny and fell in love with her words.
I still adore Tori Amos
and am sure I saw Nick Cave when I was in Brighton last year.
I discovered this fantastic man as well

My social circles became more hexagon-like
With some people gone, some reappearing and some slowly dissolving into past.
There also seem to be much more people who play paintball.
I blame man I love for that.

Ah yes, I am published author now as well.
And passionate cyclist up and down Bristol's hills

People change, yes.
I don't even smoke anymore.
I haven't for a year.

People become, as well.


I'm back to find out what I've become.

time to go out.

You have to know: I will never stop caring about you. In the same way I will never stop caring about.. rainbows. or children with big sad eyes.

I won't, I promise. It's just that..well... I will care. And I will be there for you, as long as you don't call me up on that. For if you do, I will say no.

No.

No.

Not because I feel things, for I do not. But because we've been there and done that. And now is the time for someone else to take that role. Role. Feel it sliding down your tongue.

Yes.

I'm sorry?

No. Not really. I am not sorry, I am content with this. And I do hope you are. For I am out. Over and out and no more dreams and no more big talks which will never be actioned.

I'm ok with that.

So why write about it?

Because some things were big. And important. And full on. And intense. And as such, deserve proper fare-well.

Fare thee well.

Feel it sliding down the tongue.

Feel the roads rising to meet you.

Forgive the void.

for no one

The time was of outmost importance. It took 90 minutes. The hour and the half.

He held her and she held him in return. They did not speak much. When they did, it was about the passion. Occasionally, about the music. And every now and then, nonintelligible phrases only meant to heighten the experience.

They did.

There was a word on his hip and the constellation on her hand. There was a bed-frame and tapestries she found interesting. There were concepts he found unusual and in between them, below the frame and deep into the night, they met each other over and over again. There were no names, though.

The names are natural born complicators. So she hid hers and as he gave his freely away, it became too invaluable to use.

The time was of outmost importance. As was the date.

It could have meant nothing. In one of the worlds from far far away, it didn't. But in the world they met in, it was important. So they played along.

And in those 90 minutes, wrapped in the night and the spiral town, they freely shared the only things which were truly and always theirs.


A body. And another body. And the song which took forever to end.

only after dark

They talked about the family, him and her. For a long time. They talked of where they came from. Deep into the night and twinkling stars of the summer skies.

They talked. And the dawn approached.

And she said:

"I'm not...quite sure I understand. Or that I can offer an opinion which counts.
For I came from a wee place. And went where not many go."

And he said:

"That's ok. Sometimes we get seduced by what we supposed to think
as opposed to what we feel.

That's ok."

And where he sat, the light came first. The Sun smiled on him like a mother smiles when she sees her child. He sat there, on a nameless beach of a nameless world and said nameless word to make her feel better.

So she said:

"Thank you, Sad Joe."

And later, in the dark and in the cold, when she talked to the void of him in the world, she said again:

"Thank you."

For she missed him. And she thought of him often. How Sun kissed him. How she kissed him and how he kissed her, once upon a long lost time, where summer was neverending and the stars twinkled like the Christmas lights.

And that's how she traveled.

And that's how she travels still.

sidewalks in the sky

in the place where she learned to walk
on a pillow she learned how to read
she opened her eyes:

it didn't matter to anyone else

but her

the stories she walked past
turned back and looked at her
and she read them again

they were right.
their glances were piercing
they smelled of black coffee and cigarette smoke
and had the teeth of a shark

 she roasted them with pleasure

on an open fire of past

with a pinch of salt

and moved on.

yes: yes.

I want to talk to you

I really.really do

The sunsets subsided 

and the rains fell through

and all I want is to talk to you

again.

Silly, yes, I know:

Not like we ever did

Really. 

But never-the-less

I wanted to

And I miss you

I miss you with a power of seven million and eight powerplants

I miss you with the words of one thousand and six poets

I miss you with a passion of three hundred and two lovers who will never see each other again

I miss you- one me, among the billions- one you, among the billions

I want to talk to you.

It's time to stay
she concluded.

it is a time to go she said
the time to pack
spread the clothes on the bed and decide
which dresses go which stay
do not forget the lacy underwear

it is a time to decide she whispered

you might get lucky

remember all the times you were glad

you ran away

and let the things sort without your input

remember feel

feel the memory

he said we were nothing to start with he said

and that he just played along

it was stupid, do you not think?

playing along all that time

it was stupid.

to just play along.

it is a time to decide again

it is always that time

he said he did not feel it did not see it

and that..well...he knew it could not last

and that he just played along

while you gambled the highest stake

while you knew that you might lose while

you hoped you are winning

he traveled light he did

bless his heart

he traveled light  

bless his heart

the time to decide, yes:

you chose not to get lucky

so enlighten me, sweets,

which one of two won?

and while you're at it, darling

what was the game all about?

...

I met the best of the best
the smartest ones
the ones with the bodies lent by greek gods
the creative ones
the educated ones
the funny ones
and the ones who changed the worlds
all of them

we spoke through the sheets
we laughed at the dawns
we shared the breakfasts of words we learned how to play with
we tried hard
and less hard
that: togetherness
we always dreamed about.

then one of us would always leave
leave space for another to come.

and then she woke up

i listened the geek speak: he was so far from 'proper' good looks. but accross the table, he gave a new layer of meaning to the Apollo. so I smiled and played with my hair.

i cut my hair since. didn't save it this time. i cut my hair and changed the perfume but the net he caught me with still remained. i knew that. but it made the transition easier.

i listened the geek speak: i do not remember what he said. but the way he kept the concepts high up in the air, not letting them fall was enough to enchant me.

and that was it: the layer of creativity, the layer of book worm-ness and the layer of hope.

his voice was green and blue and in his eyes the skies changed shape. his hands were warm and gentle and their touch smelled like summer afternoon under the pine-trees. he was the geek, i listened him speak and

well

i chose to close my eyes.

14/05

I do not know even where to start
when to where to start
yes

i  smiled in the group of people

and it felt ok

chaos. yes. chaos narrative

that's what Frank would call it

i like my structures, though:

look listen read me trying to create one

i do not dare look at the notes, tho

i will cry i know i will cry

this research business: i never knew it could be so life changing

actually: i never felt it so

strong

before.

i feel blessed, yes: blessed

to be where i am

to get lost confused and found the wee strings of reality again

just to create more confusing tunes on them again

[this one goes out to Jane Speedy

and Viv Martin

and Donna West

and Kyra Pollitt]

žene no:2

women who changed my world

[and it was about time i start putting some references here

says an academic-to-be]

this one goes out 

to the patterns of un-known and un-said

yet to be discovered

yes: this one goes out.

to the ones who taught me how to tame the magic

under the eyelashes.

fellow travelers

we had the same upbringing. being alone was our shelter when the loneliness was yet to be defined. our bodies moved silently through the years of screaming. the crossroads came and went and we always chose to keep on moving. travelers' inns gave us temporary relief, and we were grateful. the world was huge. and we were good in being inconspicuous. so no one noticed.

we spoke many languages. we communicated with the strange peoples we met on the sides of highways and told them stories. we laughed with them and shared our meals with their wide eyed curious offspring. we hugged and were being hugged in return. then we would leave. moving was much easier than having to stay. we dreamed, extensively, about the days yet to come and wonders yet to be weaved from mundane. sometimes, we slept.

we understood each other, all the way to the bones and through the bloodstream. whenever we met on our wanderings, our souls intertwined and formed a shelter in the storm of mutual loneliness. it never lasted for a long time. we were all crap at staying so one or the other would take off in the morning. but we understood each other. and every time, we would meet again.

million dollar maybe

FD: You forgot the rule. Now, what is the rule? 

 Jake is professional. I am about three levels short of beginner. 

"Elbows up!"- Jake insists. "From a shoulder"- i look straight into his eyes. "Keep your left up!"- I nod.

Jake's holding the pads. I punch. Well, I try. I am three levels short of the beginner, as I already said. So when my first (excuse for a) punch lands on the pod, I stop. Embarassed. And look down.  

"Relax"- Jake says- "Let it out." the corners of his lips form a smile: "I can take it."

MF: Keep my left up? 

I breathe in. I breathe out. Behind the eyes, the snapshots of the encounters start flashing. The glands respond. The anger spreads it wings.


And takes off: 

  

3                       2            1                        now!                                   

PUNCH!

feirenough now fuck off!

PUNCH!

I will understand later. I understood before. I will understand again. I will explain. Analyse. 

And put it in the relevant brackets.

treatingmelikea perishablegood

PUNCH!


I will be ok. I deserve that. I don't deserve to be objectified. I am so much more than that. I am. I am. I am. I am. I do not need THAT in my life. All of my friends say so. They do. And I should trust them. I trust them.

PUNCH!

amazinglovelycreative

PUNCH!

PUNCH!

Majik is tooo pricey. Majik is too unstable. Majik  burns the boundaries. Majik is not healthy. Majik happens. Majik is what I feckin live on.  Majik. Is. Not. Responsible. 

PUNCH!

couldnotcare lesshow couldyou?

PUNCH!

Adults are responsible. Good people keep their integrity. And you. Cannot. Read. Your. Way. Out. Of. Behaving. Morally. 

PUNCH!

PUNCH!

PUNCH!

PUNCH!

PUNCH!


"Enough"- I hear Jake through the mist of adrenaline and scraps of random thoughts.
Yes.

OK.

Enough. 

FD: Is to protect yourself at all times. Now, what is the rule? 

Stay true to yourself. Do not do things for which you will hate yourself in the morning. Do your best not to hurt others. When you have to, do not procrastinate. Show instead of saying. Write instead of screaming. Punch, instead of smiling. You can only lead one life. Your own. There is nothing more. There is nothing else. And majik will keep on finding you. It will. It will. It will.

Hopefully, the next time it will have a pair of cojones.

MF: Protect myself at all times. 

("Million Dollar Baby", Clint Eastwood, 2004)

busted.

you have the right to remain silent.


anything you say/do/write/show/want/whisper/dream can and will be held against you.

           mirrors mirrors

you have the right to defend.


if you cannot afford a defense, the life will be happy to provide you with several.

behind those walls. 

did you understand these rights when they were handed over to you?

Having these rights in mind, do you wish to talk to us now?

I try to be true to you all.

sweet the sting

wee boy

what have you done, wee boy?

in all of your

adult-ness

you did not know how to play this game did you now

wee boy

well

i should have been warned.

i should have seen it

wee boy

i should have sensed it

envisioned it

i should have been smarter and wiser and

bigger

wee boy.

fair enough: i wasn't.

when they came to take me away

wee boy

i thought of you

and i remembered the words

oh

the words 

"you inspire me

you are different

you stand out

i love your expressiveness."

i hear you

child

but you didn't see

what i brought on the table

and you didn't see

how clouds roll and thunders laugh

watching over us

watching

knowing

well: they have been around for a while.

when they came to take me away

wee boy

i trusted them it was for the best

i trusted: they are my guardians

and you will never ever know what happened.

but 

i had to

and i have to

believe it's for the best.

I miss you

wee one.

i miss you i think of you i pray for you

they do not, though

and they won't

forgive them: they think about me first

as they always will.

wee boy.

i think about me first

as well.

but you would not know that

not with your adultness.

ola, sun!

I do not why there are scripts and why there are stories and why some stories work for you and some make no sense. I do not know why you want what you want but take what are you given because it is the grown up choice and you end up convincing yourself you didn't want it to start with. I don't know what lies in heart of star I don't know what makes people allergic to kiwi but crazy about green in general. I don't know how many times you have to knock before someone answers and how many streets you have to walk before you reach the end of map. 

I don't know why so many educated people choose to live as if outside of body but still prefer smoked salmon instead of egg & mayo triangle sandwich. I do not know how come there is so many of us and all of us still feel lonely at times. I don't know why you feel struck by lightning when the skies are perfectly clear. I do not know what is exact definition of integrity. I do not know why some stuff makes perfect sense and why other stuff makes perfect sense as well but in the other group of people. I also don't know what will happen. 

Next:

I know people like stories. I know that people feel stories. I know what I want. I know how to make grownup choice. I convince myself I do not want, when I am in the heart of star. I know I like green in general but don't mind kiwi. I knocked four times, each time louder than the one before it. When no one answered, I walked the street to the end of the map and started dancing the new avenue. It smelled of ginger and cinnamon. The scales of dragon were its hard shoulder, warm but traitorous. And the storm wind blew hard. My hands moved in the rhythm of clouds forming. It was wild. But then again, I knocked four times, each time louder than the other. And no one noticed.

My body played a trick on me so I opted for smoked salmon on a bed of creme fraiche plus dill. I was alone but didn't feel lonely which was very new and exciting. Therefore: the fear dipped its bony fingers to the bottom of my very merry core. The storm brought the lightning, as storms do. So that part was ok. I found the inn at the end of the world again. And the child came forth alone.

--

In today's talk in Watershed, Jeanette Winterson said that when you feel you are breaking down, you can go to the closest mirror and start reading poetry while watching your face changes to something you feel comfortable with.  So I put Dresden Dolls on. 

3 

2 

1  

                                                                                                      Touch the wooden gate in the wall you never saw before

2204

call me ummm...call me New. yes. New. call me New and hold my hand. hear my thoughts. hear! hear! call me New and let me entertain you:

address me as Old. address me as Old and  trust me. i've been around for a while

and i know what i'm talking about.

don't forget you are not as young anymore you should listen to me

for i hold the experience.

call me New! i grew up from stories Old made the material for

Feck off.

i grew up from fragments of what you used to call magic

and all is good and everything changes

put the  make up on

make the up-ness

dance the waltz of rules

you won't like it but the cheque will come on  fridays 

three working days to be processed

but

and

you will be safe

yes! do it! 

but

and save room for the faeries

and wide eyed wandering spirits

while handing out drinks

"thank you sir, come back soon!"

while moping the floors

while sorting the mail

written according to certain

hehe

standards

you look plain silly doing that

just so you know.

just: so you know.

the poem.

A KOLIKO SI IMALA LJUBAVNIKA?


A koliko si imala ljubavnika? i gdje si sve s njima 
spavala? i što su ti govorili? i kako, kako je to bilo? Daj mi
mira,
čuješ, daj mi mira, fućkam ti na tvoje
fotografije spremljene u kutiju od cipela,
pisamca o vjernoj ljubavi sakrivena po manžetama i u
policama pod rubljem, prestani,
prestani, idi već, kao nesnosnu muhu
pratim očima tvoj lik po svim ku-
tovima, idi,
izleti kroz prozor, nek te odnese propuh, idi, nemam vremena,
moram se ispavati, idi, rasplini se,
rastopi se negdje u toj narančastoj lokvi pod svjetiljkom,
izgubi se među slovima ove glupe knjige što
je čitam,

idi, ne volim te, ništa neću, ništa te ne pitam,
to me ne zanima,

fućkam ti na tvoje adrese i telefonske brojeve, i si-
jed
i sijed ću te još voljeti, nozaimeisusovo
koliko,

koliko si ih imala?

JIRI ŠOTOLA

za dlaku

there are some really angry men in this world

really...angry

so angry that they will try that anger out

on the ones who cannot defend themselves

on the weak ones

such as yours truly.

there are some really great friends in this world

really....great.

so great that they will kick those men in the groins

on the account of those who cannot do themselves

on the account of the weak ones

such as yours truly

who was lucky

very lucky

a few days ago.

let me...entertain you

she took her clothes off
bit by bit

she took her jeans, size 12. the ones with big holes on the knees, which she will never mend.

she took the t-shirt which she bought 5 years ago on a ski trip to France. I was never in France. Shhh its good for the story. The green one.

she took the under-wear off as well. La Senza white bra and the Primany panties. They laid beneath her feet.

and carefully put the black socks in the laundry basket beneath the bed.

then she took off the earings- green ones, made for her with seventeen tons of love in a small workshop in Zagreb, once upon a long lost time.

and the medallion named after one of her favorite books: Ilium. Dan Simmons' one. the reason she bought and got disappointed in Flashback, a few weeks ago.

she never wore any other jewelry.

then she took the sense of a day off. it itched. it felt like a bikini wax. Brazilian you mean? Shhh. it bounced around the room and finally settled in the corner of the mirror.

then she put a nail in defense machinery. the fluffy one, made from what was left from her favorite childhood doll.

the body pulsated.

and she was free to express.

she was right. and she was naked. and she regressed. and she progressed in her nakedness. and she was wrong.

and it did not matter at-all.