Thursday, 22 August 2013

My words

I know; words, words will be my salvation. I know it because nothing else makes sense when I am down, words are my bloodletting, my venom spitting, my exorcism. Words are what I use to make sense of me and the web that surrounds my existence. Words are what I want to master, what I use to modify my view of life, what I find when I am left with nothing. Words are my companion, my weapon, my machine, my voice. Words, that escape daily. Words, that suffocate softly on lips and murmurs. Words, that scream silently in crowds. Words, are my reality and my dream. You come to me now, you unchain me from these shackles, disperse the darkness of my doubts, harness my inner voice.

Saturday, 17 August 2013

Where does one start to change one's life? Does it start at the moment where they are lowest? Like let's say, high and drunk, where I am right now. Does one start there? The Albanian readers most likely will judge me but who gives a shit? I realize it doesn't matter much but at the same time, it does. Why so? Why can't it be simple enough to make my behaviour do what my brain accepts? What is this subordination of the heart and body? Why is this Albanian thing so strong? What is this Albanian illusion of being accepted and a good girl such a strong, strange, weird concept that keeps on taking over at certain situations? I wonder, how does a girl of Albanian origin explain that?! Men are different...from where I come from. For them, it's a different reality, a perception that is entirely favourable to them so Albania for most of them is paradise while for most women, a dreadful black hole. I realize that I might be too harsh but quite honestly, I am too susceptible to people's perceptions of me. It seems superficial but it seems almost dictatorial that I behave in a respectable manner, albeit not conventionally so. I like to make a fool of myself, but always to the degree where I seem like a harmless, good girl...that is imperative to me. Why??!! I wish I just could let go sometimes, misbehave like the rest of them...but it seems almost impossible an act for me. I wonder if I am addicted to my mask...

The 2am ritual

You trot home drunk and high, feeling somewhat at unease at the night's events. You come home and you find sleeping your gf on the bed with whom you share one because you see, you share a bachelor apartment with your best friend. She smokes and so you smoke, you help out each other but you still share a bed so why not just let her sleep and steal your laptop to the balcony? Ah yes, a much better idea! This way you get to fill up your pipe and get more high, pop open your bottle of Polish beer Zywiec so you can properly end this night. You put on some 8tracks playlist that you have been in love with and your night is golden. You listen to that shit, you take two puffs out of your pipe, a swig off your beer, and your life is complete. You wonder how people in relationships can do it but then again, you just came out of a party where couples reined and it makes you wonder....what the fuck are you doing with your life?! Not from a boyfriend's point of view because that's pointless right now but career wise, you just feel like you just came drenched with "what-ifs" and "how-is-it-possible-that-you-don't-have-a-job" statements that just cut deep into your subconscious and reverberate your fears and insecurities even more. You wonder; how so, friend? I wonder that, too! And so, you come here, at a balcony, sharing a bachelor with your best friend because that's all you can afford and it doesn't matter that you are conceding because it's the most expensive area, so you say...this is good enough, for now. For life, is all about now...And tomorrow, is about tomorrow. You are happy with the trees around you, the Casa Loma view, the park avenue, and the potential of a better tomorrow. You say to yourself, I am ok with this, for now. For I know, that tomorrow, I shall have a different now, one composing of pieces of my dreams, perhaps. And so, you continue, in this daily torrent of life, treading frantically at an abstract illusion of what you think you want...