Heart in art

During my not so long and not precisely fulfilled and well organised and active life, I found heartbreaks extremely useful. And by heartbreaks I mean all situations that happen to a random mid-twenties (oh how I lie.. late-twenties) girl that can upset her and/or make her shed a few tears, be it a real life breakup, imaginary life issues or just whatever I think or suppose or believe had hurt me, although it just might not be really the way I think it is. And these are all useful in giving a boost to my other, artistic, gentle self.

Whenever my feelings get hurt, or my emotional life fails, or just.. how to explain it.. I don't get a chance to show my feelings, I write or paint. Or scream out loud random Serbian swear words ( God, we have so many of these) to my own mirror reflection. Not so creative, must admit, but refreshing and liberating it surely is.

And I find it surprising how calm I am while writing or painting, though moments before I was most likely freaking out, with a storm of unspoken inside me. ( Also storm of hits and bites and punches, with just a touch of clear and calm common sense that never ever manages to force me to count to 10 before I go crazy).

And then I grab my notebook and all the passion and anger just fade. I wish I could say they change their form from meaningless emotion into a written/painted masterpiece, but honestly they only make a mediocre prose or painting. But still they are good. Especially when compared to my 2 year old nephew's work of art.

Still it is all well. There is no improvement without practice, and no practice without inspiration. And no, I am not asking for more heartbreaks. I just found a way to use them.

Just missing

God knows what I would do without this blog.. Probably whine day and night to my closest friends. And eventually make them run away for good.. So I come here and emotionally discharge, so then I can pretend I am normal, calm and reasonable.
So today is one of these days I am not myself. Today all I want is to be hugged for hours in deep silence, just feeling secure and loved. Today is six years since my dad died. And I still live trough this day in pretty much same way as then.
We went to visit his grave today.. Snow over one meter, cold and windy.. And now I got bad headache, just like every year, no matter what the weather is like.. But we laughed today.. Even mom did. Wind spilled one of our glasses of our dear national drink rakija over dad's grave.. So my uncle was like ''See? He misses boozing.. Even after six years he still wants a drink n he just spilled all with no time to drink slowly and enjoy..'' Yeah, not some joke alright, but we actually laughed. First time after so so long. Still it didn't change the emptiness I feel inside, each time I think of him.
And in bad need of a hug, I came online to just laugh at silly status updates of my Facebook friends, to hope my best friend will make time and manage to come online, and to just stare at people's pictures randomly.. Creepy I am.. But you have to understand.. I am just a child.. 

And Again..

Ruins and disasters and lies and heartbreaks and you and her and some unspoken words melting in mud puddles.. And myself, trying to sneak away after seeing, hearing, feeling all that..  Slowly moving backwards and counting seconds between each step, trying to make their sounds unnoticed.. And I trip on a long glance you give, fall down with my face hitting your helloes and goodbyes, and I scream, scream, scream... '' Hi dear, I am fine, how are you?''

And you laugh, you laugh and I smile like a child after saying something unplanned and silly so adults laugh at its naiveness, and you pretend you didn't even see me seeing, hearing, feeling all that.. You just saw me falling.. Well played, your life role. Well dressed up, with a perfect make up and sweet and sour scented perfume.. Really well played. And I am all covered in damn mud, feeling naked in front of you, shamefully hiding what I don't want you to see.. My poor stupid heart.. An amateur actress indeed, unable to remember dialogue I rehearsed days prior to the meeting, barely pronouncing my own script. But hey, I am a great script writer..
Hopefully that counts at least..

And I am fighting hard not to swallow my pride, but then I notice I stepped on it all over, so it screams in pain, bleeding its last drops of blood into that disgusting mud, and I feel so bad about it but I just cannot help it any more..

And you generously ignore my fall, with a wide cunning smile, and I am just a tiny soaked rabbit waiting for a hunter to pull the trigger of bunch of senseless, feelings deprived, instantly generated words, to shoot and kill that poor excuse for a soul...

Happy Valentines Day..

Dreamland

Have you ever had a dream that instantly changed the way you feel or think about something or someone? Like, you dream about a person you really really like a lot, and the dream just.. shows them in a bad light and you all of a sudden turn the cold shoulder to them? I did. Many, many times.

These dreams somehow proved that subconsciousness was sending signals it is time to chill a bit. To stop idealizing. But I always felt so bad and guilty after these dreams. Like the one I had last night. It still tortures me. And am not sure I will ever be able to forget how bad, how evil I ''saw'' someone dear and important.

My dreams were always such a bloody mess. Like ones about my dad. From the day he died until some 3 years ago, I had dreams that he died.. And I would wake up and cry, saying, OMG, I cannot believe I dreamed about dad dying.. And it would take me half hour sitting in bed staring at a wall to realize he actually died. Can you even imagine this nightmare repeating 3 times a week at least? Sick and tiring, they were.

Actually, I cannot recall having nice, relaxing, pleasant dreams. They were always either serious nightmares or some confusion, random bunch of sounds and faces, with nothing meaningful to remember afterwards. So each morning I get up more tired than I went to sleep. And if I was religious whatsoever, I would certainly pray for no dreams for the upcoming night.

After having dreams about all the people I knew that died, I asked one wise lady what is going on with me, why I have these dreams and what is wrong.. She said I was too close to my dad and cannot accept the fact that he is gone, and that he is probably trying to contact me from out there. Made no sense to me. First of all, where would he try to contact me from? Seriously? Also, knowing him, he would never send some confusing signals. Why did I even bother asking for help, really..

I still sometimes see people I barely knew, long time ago, long dead and  all.. And they all say things like 'Hurry, there is so little time..'' What does that have to do with my dad? Am I simply frightened by death that much that I dream about them warning me and calling me? Or is it true they try to contact me? If this last is true, then seriously, they proved dead are as stupid as alive.. I would be the worst link they could have chosen to communicate trough with the living world.

Due to whatever factor, my dreams suck and I am not hoping for any kind of improvement at that field. Actually all I hope is one night without dreams. Just pure snoring. That's all this girl can wish for.