thud..

One night I was lying on my left side. I was lying in that position for a long time. I felt the pain in my ear, but I didn’t want to change that position, because I was listening to the thumping of my heart.
And suddenly I imagined it, not in the way it is shown on the lessons of anatomy, but in the way it is drawn on the cards for Valentine’s Day. And there was a box with a big hole for the key directly in the center of one of the walls inside of that heart. And that thud, I heard, came from there. As if someone was closed there. And he fought against the walls, without expectation that they give in, but in the hope that the search for the key wouldn’t stop..

good things..

This post was intended to be a summing up of  some results, but somehow it turned into a list of  things that I love:

 I love the sun.. I love the rain..

I love when snow is falling on my face..

I like to read and I like the fog..

I like to dream at night and fall asleep in silence..

I like when my dog ​​looks at me while I’m delving into a flowerbed and its tail is beating on my back..

I like to drink white wine with sushi and that bench under a chestnut tree in the nearest park..

I like unpopular grey color and to be wrapped in a warm blanket..

I like when all windows are open in summer and when my father is calling..

 

I basically like to sleep but this is not one of the popular things, I know..

I love my mother’s laugh and smile, watching my friends..

I love tears (you know, sometimes they are warm and everything is easily after them)..

I love good movies and air balloons (nothing new for whose who know me)..

I like pencils and notebooks (I’m already 29, and people say I should love other things)..

I like the frost on the branches and grandmother’s tales about my childhood..

I love tea and chocolate cakes, also coffee with cream, but only lately..

I love when my goddaughter smiles (sometimes, by mistake, she calls me mom – it’s so cute)..

I like when I’m needed, but I’m not the only one..

I like the dew on the flowers and the smell on my mother’s kitchen..

I like when the sky is reflected in the puddles and the crunch of pickles..

I like how the water runs over my skin and to hold a new book in my hands..

I like fairy tales and when a lot of kids play in the sandbox..

I like to look at the stars and how snowflakes are sparkling in the light of a lantern..

I love music and I like to dance, but if no one is watching me..

I like the greenery of the forest and to bask in the sun..

I like the fallen yellow leaves and cherry jam..

I like to pick strawberries and make tea for dad..

I like beautiful dresses and when my hair pulled back into a ponytail..

 

I like simple things and I want to begin this year with them..

summation…

people say they know you and don’t understand what you are saying..
people say they understand you and take offense at your advice..

people say they never hurt you and lie in your face..

people say they care about you and you spend too much time waiting for a call..
people say they love you and hit where it really hurt..

P.S. in quest of hand to hold.

illogical post..

Before I begin, I have to warn you that most likely this post may seem illogical.

It is amazing how things can call up old memories. Even completely unrelated things can affect the right thread of your mind, and you suddenly find yourself in a totally different time.

That happened with me when I saw installation “Iscariot” by Boyd Holbrook.

When I saw the things that are shown in the photo I thought about peace at first. I thought that it is possible to accept your own fate obediently. And after this I went back to the past, when one woman I knew said that my sister is smart and will definitely do a good career but happy marriage falls to my lot.

Honestly, I almost heard that I was called a fool. I was indignant at that, of course. I felt indignation inside of me so I made an effort to get out of the place that didn’t promise a good future for me and I moved to a more pleasant place, as it seemed at that moment, to prove that I can really do something too.

I won’t pursue further how my situation is getting on now, but success in career doesn’t give the pleasure which I expected.

I consider as main idea, after all seeing and deliberated, the following: what if we could meekly accept our own fate, so to speak, abandon all attempts to escape from cuddle of life and, without doubts, trust the Powers of High, so we can feel peace comparable to taking a bath full of soap bubbles?

I can’t imagine how far or close I’m to the plan of the author… And by the way, I warned you that this post will probably be illogical.

a part of soul..

Sometimes thoughts in your head are going around in a circle and you can’t say anything (because you think that you have no right)…

You reproduce a whole number of questions and answers or even the whole monologues with explanations in your mind, knowing they will never be words that passed your lips.

But they are still spinning and spinning… until they burn out, leaving behind a scorched place and then you feel like you lost a small part of your own soul…

about imagination..

when I imagine, how I walk through the woods... I mean the forest, after the rain… the feeling I get are as if not only my lungs fill with moist air, but also my head… and I wash away all the anxious thoughts with the help of this saving moisture and my mind is always grateful for that...

but I only imagine this…

I can’t draw..

When I receive notification of a new subscriber, I feel some responsibility and I can’t afford to be silent for a long time. So, I’ll tell what postponed my sleep a little bit yesterday…

 Prehistory. I don’t like my job, but I can cope with it well, therefore, I continue to fulfill it. Everyone needs some interest that helps to distract his mind in such a situation. In search of a new hobby I came across drawing courses.

 What happened next? I haven’t signed up for the courses yet. I just understood that I can’t draw. But! But I remembered the elementary school and the teacher of drawing. After that the memory that I liked to draw came. I was often praised until our class get a new girl, whose drawings were better than mine, because the teacher stopped to praise me.

 Result. I realized how my classmates felt at the time when I was happy about new praise and I was embarrassed for having rejoiced in my superiority. And no, I didn’t try harder to earn new praise and return the favour of my teacher.

 Why am I writing about this?  I don’t know. Most likely, I took the wrong  solution or I didn’t draw a correct conclusion. But I know that not everyone can be a leader as well as not everyone have to be.

 P.S. Drawing courses still are on the agenda.