Witch

“People go around mourning the death of God; it's the death of sssin that bothers me. Without ssin, people aren't people any more, they're just ssoul-less sheep.” 
― John Updike, The Widows of Eastwick

“Once upon a time there was a lady. She had no children, and no happiness either. And at first she cried for a long time, but then she became wicked...” 

― Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita

When the stars fade out. And the snakes begin to fall from the sky. And your parents don’t remember your face. Or what the purpose of  the human race is. Race for what? 

The brilliant roundness of the only planet that gave and could ever give us a heartbeat becomes the burden we must all carry. The sky – the blue curse we won’t escape.

When music never plays again. When wine turns into water.
You can’t remember your own daughter.
The laughter  is never heard anymore and if it is, it doesn't bring joy.
An annoying ringing reminding us of our naïve existence.

When the soundtrack to your life becomes the crying of your wife.
All hells break loose, blood instead of orange juice.
The rings of fire surround the liars. The circle of doom in every room.
Suicide becomes a self-help method and the geography of arteries and veins is taught at church.
Death is your religion.
Because no one wants to be here.
Everyone wants to be the first to go.

Your courage to live is your weakness.
Your insistent  desire for balance is your flaw.
The last tiny remaining hope is worth about as much as a needle.
Which is sold on every street corner.

This is the moment she will shine. With her heart of mould and her glass half broken, looking on the dark side. Envy and lust and sloth - her royal companions.
This is the world where she will be the queen because she can’t live any other way.
Her hellish ways are frowned upon no more, truly rotten to the core but beautiful as the sting of heartbreak or the surgical incision of a knife. Which are basically the same thing.
Until then she’ll have to conceal her true nature…

Morning Glory

"The world always seems brighter when you've just made something that wasn't there before."
- Neil Gaiman


It was 8 am and she hadn't slept all night. Decisions came easily this morning: she arrived home, locked the door and decided to sleep naked. Clothes felt like too much of a burden...much like everything else. There was a scab on her foot, which she tore off painfully and squeezed until there was a shiny red bead of blood. She dried it off and the blood appeared again. It kept bleeding long after it was entertaining. However it didn't seem to bother her. In fact, nothing did. There was a simple, peaceful and almost levitating feel to every thought in her mind. It was unusual. It felt good. Then she realized this was due to the complete lack of sleep. Also she had sushi around midnight which were now presumably rotting in her stomach. Disgusting. For the hundredth time she solemnly promised to attempt vegetarianism again, before realizing how dumb 'promising to attempt' something is.
The clear mind meant that she could focus on one thing at a time and solve problems in a much more productive manner. There was a blissful satisfaction caused by working out even the most insignificant things. This was very refreshing in the light of the usual vortex of worry, mind numbing guilt and disappointment.

She always wanted to write stories of fiction but soon realized that they would all end up to be about her...She was selfishly in love with her own unrealized potential. It made her feel special, like a tortured genius who could achieve so much, but refused to... because...say 'there’s no faith in society' or 'the conditions aren't right' or 'no one will understand or appreciate, so why waste my time'. Of course all of this was bollocks but it was a beautiful illusion, one she often fell into on her daydream journeys.

Somewhere along the way she stopped referring to herself in the third person...suddenly there was a glitch in the easiness of the morning, like a dark rain cloud floating above me. I tell myself that nothing feels happy...obviously! Happiness is a ridiculous thing to strive towards. Success, actual goals, academic achievements, professional development, a rich husband, annual holidays in Palma de Mallorca...these are things to seek in life. Or so I'm told. But I cherish my ability to imagine and reflect, even if it's the only thing I'm good at. There's an island of philosophers. They lay on the beach all day in their long white bed sheets and eat grapes all day, arguing about whether people are born inherently good or bad...or maybe neutral, a blank piece of paper. The eternal question which determines which form of government we deserve...this is their job. To eat grapes and decide our fate. And the common folk feed the pigs and milk the cows and fuck in the sheds and drink until they forget how ordinary they are. I'm not sure which one I am yet. I want to be the philosopher but I act like the commoner. The common people can of course do big things in great numbers, every revolution in history has proven that to us. Maybe there's a lot more shades in the spectrum. There definitely is. I should stop looking at the world in black and white...she decided.

This is the point where she forgot where her point was and realized that there were downsides to this breeziness of thought caused by lack of sleep. So, I will sleep.

Am I weird? Yes, yes you are.

“How terribly sad it was that people are made in such a way that they get used to something as extraordinary as living.” 
― Jostein Gaarder, The Solitaire Mystery

So one especially serene Sunday evening some interesting thoughts decided to visit my utterly unexpecting sleepy brain, as they so often do. I decided to pretend I’m a famous writer and go click away on my laptop in the corner café with a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and a bowl of Tuscan soup. Now this may sound like a perfectly normal evening to all you people out there, however for me this is especially awkward due to the fact that I’m a weirdo and I don’t feel comfortable in unordinary social situations when I’m alone. So that got me thinking…what is ‘weird’?

Can we all just take a moment and think about how weird the world is! And what a bunch of nut heads live in it! Everything around is strange and amazing…somewhere along the road we forget to be surprised by the fascinating nature of the world. There is a wonderful example presented by writer and philosopher Jostein Gaarder in his book ‘Sophie’s World’.  Imagine a normal family home. The father is having his breakfast, mother is making coffee, the small child is unhappily poking at its mashed peas. Suddenly the child looks up and discovers the father to be floating above the ceiling. The child starts to laugh, point in excitement and scream “Look, daddy is flying!”. The mother would probably get a heart attack and have to be rushed to the nearest hospital. Why? Because the child is still learning about the world. Every new experience is more strange than the previous, therefore a ‘flying daddy’ is no more strange than a moving mechanic giant (car) or angry box that eats your clothes (washing machine). But if you think about it, flying people are not that much more strange than some of the modern achievements in science and technology. So when did we stop seeing the wonder around us? When did the ‘strange’ become the  ‘normal’? What does strange even mean?... I suppose people have come to describe it as something they are not used to. Foreign customs, the opposite sex, older generations, historical events from other times, people with different tastes, all these things may seem strange to us, either because we don’t interact with these things in our everyday life or they are not something common within our society. (I know the opposite sex is both of those things, but no one can disagree that it is an unsolvable mystery ;)) But why are some people considered 'weird' and others 'normal'? I believe it’s because there is a certain group of people who don’t accept the strangeness in the world and constantly question it, instead of adjusting to the social norms and conditions. These people want to push the limits, gain insight into the fabric of the world, discover, ask, answer, find, create, destroy, dig, dig, dig…or simply find the mystery behind some of life’s most difficult and (yet simple) questions. This is a noble quest in my opinion. I can’t exactly say I’m one of those people, though I may be on the road to being one. In any case I never stop being amazed, surprised or weird. It’s one of my many talents.

I know this is not the only definition of weird…but as I have been called ‘weird’ my whole life, I wanted to provide a reasonable justification for myself as well as perhaps tell others that being this way is a great gift. It may not make you especially happy, but it’s a hell of a lot better than being close-minded, ignorant and ‘blissful’.  Ignorance is not bliss. Bliss is the knowledge that you are unique in the world; the wonderful feelings you get when you solve a problem, contemplate, think and learn, perfect yourself and help those around you. So go to school, kids!

In conclusion it should be said that most people live somewhere in the grey area....there’s a little weird in all of us and unfortunately, we all must adjust to societies norms (I can’t go to work in my duck suit, damnit). However we must remember to stay open minded and that not everyone was given the same opportunities as we were.

Love&kisses,
Svet

Maybe you don't drink enough water?

“I think and think and think, I‘ve thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.” 
― Jonathan Safran Foer

You just have to get through this. It's going to get better. That's what everyone says. It seems like when you were young it was easier to be alone. All you really needed was your parents and friends, their love was enough. So what has changed? Maybe you haven't changed but people's expectations have. Your grandparents are getting less and less subtle with the questions about marriage and children...literally all your friends are in a relationship. So no wonder you feel like the outcast, like there's something wrong with you. Some people say your standards are too high...you almost feel desperate at times. Why do you have to be so damn emotional? The curse of being a girl…Just live through this day without crying. How do I make myself better? Drink lots of water. Go to the gym. Read. Work on your hobbies. Perfect yourself so when you do meet someone you will be the best version of yourself. Do not change for them...don't lower your standards because it will never make you happy. Do things that are important. Drink lots of water. What is important? ...Seems the best answer is ‘to be happy’. But not in the 'meet a successful guy to kiss and hug, have lots of money and lots of pretty clothes, go to nice places to eat, tan on the beach'-kind of happy. But the long-term, deep-seated, ultimate, divine happiness. Achievement, learning from your mistakes, being a better person, daughter, friend, growing as an individual, developing, making a difference in the world for the better, even if it’s a tiny improvement, gaining knowledge, being brave enough to say and hear the truth, being strong enough to feel the pain without alcohol, antidepressants or one-night stands. That is what we live for. Something of value must be made of the 80+ years we get on this damned planet.  Though anyone with a brain will tell you they've never been happier than in the arms of a loved one. But forget that. Drink lots of water...