Empty

I feel empty. As a bottle of a drunkard, as a hot desert, as a Christmas tree when the season is over. I feel like things could be different. I feel as if things should not be the way they are. I think some people assume that I'm strong, but really I'm just a weakling. They over-estimate me, and think that I am a wall of bricks that can take anything and never fall. What they do not know is that all that is left of me is a pile of debris. Every day I act. I carefully step on the stage and act out my role. Some days I'm the boring character that fills in the space. Other days I'm the lead, and everything is on my shoulders. There are day's when I am to be a lover, a lady, a partner. I also wear the mask of ugly, tired and mean. I follow a simple scenario, and that's how every day goes by. But they really should know that acting sometimes isn't so easy. There are times when I want the curtain to close and the lights to dim down so I can simply cry out the tears that dwell in my eyes.

i don't know

STOP.

I keep yelling that to myself all the time. I want me to stop, so I can think. I want to be able to think like a decent person. 
Guess what! Yet again it is the time that is killing me. I don't even want to know what is going to happen in the following month. I hope for the best. I try. And yet it is not enough. 

SHUT UP! (period)

"I'll Miss You! ♥"

I'm too lazy to search for a quotation that would say something about time, but You can just imagine I have a quotation here to start of my today's writing. I do realize that I have been writing about time too much, but it is something that I don't get enough of. Alright, instead of writing a quotation about time, I can insert a quotation about friendship. Ok? Sounds better already, doesn't it?

It takes a long time to grow an old friend.
/John Leonard/

I'm leaving the following Thursday. I am happy because I will see my friends and relatives in Latvia, but I am sad because I have to say goodbye to all my friends here. I still can not swallow the fact that I will most likely never see my Canada friends ever again. I can not imagine a day when I would want to chill with them and would not be able to meet up in a few hours. I can't believe there will no more be drunken nights with tons of booze and ridiculous conversations that somehow end up involving my boobs (don't ask :D) or other just as random topic. I refuse to accept that there will no more be emotional dramas and fake meanassness, lateness and evil prank calls, and other even more unforgivable actions. I simply can't imagine not tweeting about how I feel when with them. So there will no more be greedy eye glazes, and fighting about things I should be thankful existed. No more dancing at clubs where all you hear is the TOP 50 chart songs and so are able to sing along to every song, no scratch that, yell along to every song. There will not be any "mystery guests" at parties, and no more dares like making a girl turn on a gay guy. There will never be a group of people who comprehend jewish and black, and communist jokes on the level that we do,  nor will there be any new retarded inside jokes (I guess this is where the boob thing comes in).

This is THE END to an era, but as the old times go, new ones are about to unfold. And even though it is extremely sad to leave everything behind and move on, I am looking forward to the future.

But for now, let's forget about the past or the future. I adore this moment and there is no way I will give it away. so... LET'S LIVE IT UP!!

Tu jūti?

Nu un ko. Kolekcionēt ir forši. Es vācu atmiņas mazās kastītēs. Četri reiz četri - kantainās, citas tādas nesimetriskas, citas ar velna raksties virsū. Bet lielākā daļa kārbu noputējušas pagrabu bēniņos stāv.

Vakar uzgleznoju raibu aitu. Nē, es meloju. Bet tik ļoti gribējās man uzgleznot raibu aitu. Ar spodri tīrām stikla ačelēm un mēli izkārtu līdz zāles stiebru saknēm. Zaļa. Ne zāle, bet mēle. Zālei krāsas nebūtu, jo kam tad vairs rūp?

Aplami es muldu. Man patīk muldēt. It sevišķi tad, kad grūti saprast kur pakārts veselais saprāts. Laikam atstāju uz plauktiņa, pirms došanās uz zemes virsu. Ko lai saka? Nemelošu, man te patīk. Un ļoti pietrūks, kad būs jākāpj atpakaļ gaisa kuģī, lai dotos turp, kur palicis veselā prāta pūrs (un tas arī, pieputējis).

Un tad man pēkšņi visi pietrūkst. Tik ļoti, ka elpa aptrūkst un ķermenim par maz skābekļa tiek. Plaušas sāk kost sānos, jo nezin kā strādā bez algas. Sažņaudzās neesošais ādamābols, tādā mezglā, ka pat jūrnieks atsiet nevarētu.

Ne no kā man gribās uz Romu un pie Venēcijas smirdīgajām ielām.

Un gribās man mājas.

Kur ir mājas?

Es vakar uzzīmēju raibu aitu. Tai mēle stiepās pāri ceļu galiem, aplīdusi man apkārt kā pāraugusi sēne. Tā (mēle) līda tālāk un tālāk un es nezinu kur tā stāsies. Pelēka zeme raudzījās manās zaļajās acīs. Spalgi iekliedzās mirstošās vārnas un acu vietā iedzēla plūdi. Aizskaloja manu aitu.


Un tagad bez krāsas, bez mēles, bez prāta, un ar aizelsušos elpu es tupu blakus mirušajām vārnām, jo nekā cita jau man nav.

Promise(?)

Why do some people promise, but never keep what they have said?

My mind is blank, and so is my life. I don't know where i am heading, but i know for sure that where ever i end up it will not be the place where i want to be.

At this point my life is pretty much screwed up more then You (or me myself) can imagine, comprehend... Impossible. And even though i have come to some kind of epiphany, it is too late.
About two weeks too late.

It was painful, i cried. I hadn't done that miserable thing for too long, so the strangeness of this activity made more pain (and disappointment). I felt pathetic, more then other days. I was a step away from begging, but i just didn't have the power. So now i have nothing, just the impossible dream that i will never have to face any of this again. (Though i know that the whole things still needs to be done.)
I just don't have the strength.

And it is not only school.

As i mentioned already at the beginning, he PROMISED that he would call, but didn't. It is the second time. I don't have the nerves to think about him any longer.

And the other fella. Oh, thats a funnier story, he "threw the ball in my court", it was with me for two nights and when i finally decided to call him and give it another shot. He didn't pick up. So he got the "ball" right back. Bastard. Why did he ask me to think about it and then not answer the phone?

I hope neither of them will try to contact me. No more. I need something that has more potential since i have none. I need to feed off of someone. Like a carnivore on a fresh capture.

Meanwhile i shall shrink to the size of an unlucky, sad, miserable being that can hardly remember to breath.

...

An open pore. An open soul for You to stomp and kill. All Yours, there in Your palms. You stabbed me before, so i suppose now again it should be like a hard job made easy. I gave You all and more. I gave You my own little soul as an amulet to keep in the chest pocket, to keep You warm on days when it was an unbearably cold. On days when You needed a pal to tell all You needed to say, to feel like a human again. On days when rain was too tough to take and it caused tears in Your eyes because of sorrowful memories that'd past. On days when nothing was right, You had me there right beside You. I was there to catch You when You would fall. I was there to fix problems that seemed endless. I kept Your soul clean and ready to attack again. You where always ready, and only thanks to me.

Sometimes i wounder how You are doing with out your amulet. Do you often remember those days when you had everything? You had all the world in front of You, but all You could think about was losing the only thing You really had.
I yelled. I screamed. I told you many times. You never listened to me. You through me out like old socks that could be replaced with any other inhumane object. You were wrong. Like any other time when i kept You in safety thought i knew You had done the wrong things. I was always there for You. Your personal saviour. Your guarding angel.

Now it is You. It always haS been You. Once again You have another victim in Your arms. An almost dead soul that has been half murdered by Your own hand already once. I sit here, helpless, as i always have been. I am not begging You. I don't need You to spare my soul, because without You a part of me dies every day. Every single second i scream for Your love. I just wanted You to be there when i fell. ..but You weren't. You let me fall right down on my face.

So now, kill me if You must. Don't leave me half dead one more time. I better die now by my own traitor's hand then later by the deadly sorrows that will murder me because You will not be there to catch the poorly beating heart when it again will almost stop tracking its own blood stream.

par visu to

Ziemassvētku jau nu atkal aizskrējuši. Ja atklāti, dikti gribās kārtējo reizi kaut ko ārprātīgi depresīvu saskribelēt uz uzsist pa Publish Post un tad Sign Out, un drīz vien pazust vai nu zem segas savā bardaka pilnajā istabā, vai iegrimt kāda nebūt formālā forumā kur spriež par lietām kuras tā pat līdz galam nekad neesmu izpratusi. Un, lai gan, ja atklāti daļēji nemaz, nemaz negribas tā darīt. Ir svētku laiks un jābūt taču kā dziemā: "actiņās prieks, satraukta sirds", bet nav. Kārtējās sveces egles zaros jau izdegušas, lai gan šeit tas nemaz nav atļauts. Galdu klāj pārpalikušās galerta šķēles un ciemiņu nestās bombongas, un tamlīdzīgi gardumi. Diena pagāja labi. Un tā tiešām bija. Pat neraugoties uz to, ka Hokeja Fanu tusiņš tika zināmā mērā sagrauts, jo spēlē viesiem izvērtās ļoti nesekmīga un neraisīja nekādas cerības, ka varētu kaut ko labu panākt spēles gaitā. Spēlē beidzās ar patiesi skumju rezultātu 0:16. Čempionāts tā pat kā pagājušajā gadā norisinās Kanādā, tikai šogad mēs nebraucām skatīties spēlēs, pārāk tālu un naudas arī nav.

Esmu kļuvusi nedaudz atvērtāka. Redz es (jā, jā es) sāku nedaudz pakļauties svētku aurai, kas tipa liek cilvēkiem būt gaišākiem (ne velti visai bieži ļaudis vēl ne vien priecīgus, bet arī gaišus Ziemassvētkus). Mēģinu būt iecietīgāka un izdarīt kaut ko tikai tāpēc vien, ka tas varētu kaut nedaudz iepriecināt citu. Nav jau tā, ka līdz šim esmu bijusi cietsirdīga ciniķe un to vien darījusi kā ''kakājusi uz galvas'', (nekāds eņģelis es ar nekad neesmu bijusi (tagad ar neesmu!!)), bet ja es kādreiz kaut ko darīju es ļoti reti meklēju vairāk kā vienu iemeslu kāpēc to biju veikusi. Eh.. fuckin atklāsmes.

Esmu sasodītu noslēgta maita un nekad un nevienam nesaku kā jūtos un kā domāju. Esmu tizla. Man sevis žēl (?), jo man TIK ĻOTI gribās tikt universitātē, bet es neko nemācos. Esmu tik sasodīti dusmīga uz sevi!! Manas atzīmes kopš devītās klases ir apmēram pa 40% zemākas. Es nevaru saņemties. Un par spīti visam, kas noticis esmu tur pat kur biju oktobra vidū. Motivācija noskalota ar tējas biezumiem pilsētas kanalizācijas trubās un nespēju aizdzīt prom slinkumu, to slepkavu slinkumu.

help

Kleopatra un ne pavisam.

Ārā gar logu glīti snieg pārslas un zem vilnas zeķēm paslēpušies visi nervu gali. Man šodien ir nedaudz, pavisam nedaudz silti. Paplakusi ir pašas sirds un prātu moka sabiedriskas raizes, personīgās jau sen noskalotas un atrodas jau tur kur ūdeni laiž uz otro pusi.
Labvakar vai labrīt nodzied panīkum putni. Vai tā tam ir jābūt?

Piektdiena. Pēdējā skolas diena pirms brīvlaika. Nē, nu labi, rīt ir sestdienas skola, bet tik un tā.
Ar dunci rokā es kā maniaks brutāli nogalēju savas brīvdienas.
FUCK IT!

Nu labi, lai jau. Eju nedaudz pagulēt tad uz skolu.
Ir nakts vidus.
3 no rīta.

Es gribu mācēt pasmaidīt, kaut nedaudz.

PAR SPĪTI. Visam par spīti. Vakar visu nakti mana sirds tupināja pukstēt nomodā. Stunda pēc stundas. Es skaitīju brīžus, kas ritēja kopš brīža, kad šķīrāmies mēs. Bet par spīti visam. Par spīti apskāvieniem tuviem un acu skatiem gausiem es nespēju turpināt tā kā līdz šim. Man sāp, sāpēja un sāpēs. Agri no rīta ar vecu, neizgulētu miegu acīs es pierakstīju, lai atminētos: "..man Tevis pietrūkst. Šodien man Tevis oficiāli pietrūkst." Un viss. Es nespēju vairāk. Nebirt ne asaras žēlas, ne palīgā kliedzieni. Man nav vairs spēka,
jo sāp.
VISS.

Bezmiegā mokās mana miesa. Ko nu? Es zinu ko gribu, bet man pietrūkst spēka. Man nav gana drosmes. Lai cik ļoti es palīgā sauktu, es zinu, ka nenāksi Tu; nenāks neviens. Pārskaitļu pakāpēs mani moka rūgtā sirdsapziņa. Apbērta as saldām cukur lauskām, izkusušām. Nav prieka, nav jēga.
N Ē -
IR. nav. IR. nav. IR. nav. IR. nav. IR. nav.
Kūst viss. Nav spēka. Ko spēju es, kad doma vairs nav tieša. Man atbilde ir, uzrakstīta, bet NAV spēka to nolasīt. Es sameklētu visu. VISU. Bet man vajag, man vajag kā bērnam mātes pienu, man vajag Tavu palīdzību. Vai aļņi ar ragiem vai šallēm. Jā, visam sava vieta.
Tu man tā arī nepasacīji kāpēc!

stolen.

I crumble in my own little shell. Throw out all the left memories and keep my self locked in the blossoms of darkness. In a tiny frame my soul is trapped. I trapped in myself. Cancelled all days and all nights; they are blended together. I would skip all holidays and miss every single celebrating day. This needs to be stopped. Stolen goods from the poor and misread letters from your and mine Buda. Never will i thank You for what you have done. Never again will i be able to appreciate the good things they have done for me.
I don't exist, not in the form that i used to.

Tumsa.

Tumsa ārā, tumsa prātā, tumsa draugu lokā. Viss vienā tumsā. Jāraud būtu, bet es neķēzīšu savas asaras štruntiem. Un viņam ar ne. Nav pelnījis. Protams, gribējas, lai viss beidzās, tobiš sākās, pavisam savādāk, bet vienmēr jau nevar gribēt visu. [Cik daudz maz vispār esmu girbējusi, bet nu, lai jau!]

Tagad doms par viņu jāmet pie malas. Nākamā ndeēļa būs ārkārtīgi gara, nogurdinoša, vienā skriešanā, bet beigu beigās viss būs tā vērts. Plaīdzētu, ja nebūtu slima. Atklāti - ar katru dienu paliek ar vien sliktāk un sliktāk. Šo laikam esmu no Tašpuka dabūjusi! o.O Vinš visu nedēļu mājas bija, BET es nevaru atļauties mājas sēdēt, NE nākamnedēļ. Ludziņa ko ar draudzeni režisējam nu jau vairāk kā mēnesi vēl aisgājušās nedēļas saakumā nebija laba, bet pēc piketdienas, (kas bija brīva, stundas nenotika) kad vairākas stundas pavaddijām veicot uzlabojumus šķiet, ka gala rezultāts būs tāds, ka varēs ar lepnumu norādīt un teikt: "Tas mūsu darbs!"
Nākam nedēļ līdz ar citām sešām īsām lugām mūsu ar tiks izrādīta četras (!!) reizes. Pirmizrāde būs otrdien pēc Grad Teache Dinner, un izrādes varēs redzēt līdz piektdienai!

Galva kā ar vati piebāsta saap, šķiet, ka tai vajadzētu sprāgt, bet ir biči aptrūcies šaujampulveris. Šeit tumšs paliek jau piecos! Nevaru ciest, bet es paardzīvošu!

Es visu paārdzīvošu.

ps. Pirmais ceturksnis nu ir galā!!

Dziesma: Tumsa - Lai būtu tā