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.