thoughts on shuffle

IMG_3447There are places, which make me stop and think for a while. 

I’ll be more precise.

The feeling they give me, makes me stop. Suddenly I have not enough breath in my lungs and my feet stretch to touch the core of the planet. A weird kind of buzzing fills the space between my ears…

I’ve been here before, haven’t I?

And then I’m empty. It is some kind of blankness. A cold sensation in my stomach. I start to doubt that I’m hermetically locked into my skin. For a moment I’m sure there is a hole somewhere. Something ripped through me, and I didn’t notice. I’m leaking. Or maybe the world is seeping into me. I know it will squeeze me into my every pore, into every wrinkle of my being, pushing me to the outer rim of what uses to me be…

Movement stops.

I fall.

At least, I think it is some kind of falling sensation. A random plummeting to the ground. Downward sucking notion, but without the wet kissing thud at the end. Without hitting any surfaces, without the crashing and breaking, without the impact… Just falling. 

In those moment – I have hope. Hope to find my purpose, my place in the world I inhabit. The hunch I need to grasp the meaning behind all this…being-human thing. It is almost a fully formed thought, a nearly recognized feeling.

I have been here before, haven’t I? 

Isn’t it ironic? I can’t seem to realize it…

by night

I’ve always been afraid of the dark.

My whole life I was scared when the lights went out. When the day dissolved into the night, I crawled, as fast as I could, under my blankets, leaving my reading lamp on. Often the whole night.

But things change…

There is no reading lamp – not anymore. No blankets. I sit in my chair, smoke and wait for the dusk to come. The grayness descends so slowly, carefully, not to scare anyone away.

Emerging from the business of midday, from the productivity others use to care for, the twilight spawns. Slowly unfolding, growing… As if breaking up the surface of  reality, the fuzziness within and around things reveals itself.

In those moments I feel my heart beating stronger, louder, faster… As if it would  respond to a call, I did not hear in the first place. Ill-defines movements under a dust layer. Left alone, for so many centuries. Left to feel despair, to feel quilt, to feel … myself, my flaws.

I felt the wet splosh on the back of my head. A tomato – I hope. The juice ran down my neck. My palm was red, and warm with the liquid.

„Think fast!“

Something hit me hard, smashed into my jaw. Dizziness washed over me, like a thick snow blanket over Moscow in February. Fuck. I held my ears, to stop it. Felt like a whirligig in my skull. Dammit.

The truck keeps moving forward. I’m gonna descend here so ungracefully… I’m gonna be an absolute joke, the only guy who gets knocked out by a tomato. Wait… Or was that a bottle? Who threw that fucking bottle at me?

bad company

“Rise and shine.” Grizzly says, gently patting the jacket I use as blanket. He’s been driving the whole night. It’s already dawning, and we’re still on the road. Nearly over the mountains by now, the rain has stopped.

If you were wondering, Grizzly’s not a real bear. He’s ’bout 6 feet 6, hairy, one-eyed beast, with hands like paws. I call him Grizzly, for being such a log of a man. His real name is Urs. He’s from Switzerland, the land of  yummy chocolate and huge mountains.

The first time we met, he hit on me. That meathead tried to convince me, that everyone going over the swiss border, gets a bar of gold, a cow and a cheese wheel. He was so persistent, I nearly bought it. Of course I googled it. And he caught me. Can  you imagine how hard he laughed? Beer squirted out of his nose, he nearly choked. The laughing-coughing-fits shook him, you could have thought that barstool he was sitting on, was a live rodeo horse. Nice, huh?

“Hmmmyamorninhngrylikawulff” I yawn. Hungry. “One day you’ll transform fully. Into a big fuzzy Teddy bear, and I’ll cuddle you to death.” I sit up and rub my face into his shoulder.

“Mmm, death by cuddle? Is that a promise, sweetheart? I’ll pin you on that one.” What an impressive bedroom smile, from one ear to the other. I like it.

“Will you keep that dust on your jaw?”  The clouds run before us on the road.

“Doesn’t make me look distinguished? It makes me look more serious, don’t you think?” – “You look like an old grumpy pirate…”

“Don’t you like it? One word, an it’s gone.” His index plays with one of my  crimson locks. “Red? Let’s not scare them, this time. Be a nice girl. If we look like freaks, we don’t need to act like freaks.” He throws me a mischievous grin. “Smug place, smug people.”

“Darlin`… Anything for you.” I smile my brightest smile. “Imma be a good girl. You’ll see.” Outside, the mountains part and the wood pulls up its skirt. Little houses loom in the misty morning light, far away, at the end of the now opening valley. The windshield’s dirty.

“Cross your heart!” Grizzly’s laugh booms, I feel it vibrate in my guts.


We hold hands across the table, my tattoos hiding in his huge paw. He sips his coffee, and I dig in some pancakes with sirup. Even with the black eyepatch on grizzly’s face he looks so cute. Before telling me, where that eye went, he has been telling me, for month, every time a different story. Maybe Urs is a compulsive liar… That should bother me somehow, shouldn’t it?

The pancakes were good, despite of everyone staring. “Grizzly?”

“Mm?” – “Everyone’s staring…”

“Let them. We would be too, if we saw us in a mirror, wouldn’t we?” I concentrated on the syrup running from my fork. I nod and swallow. We would. Who has ever seen such a couple? Him, a one eyed man-bear, and me – almost a midget, with bright red mane and tattoos all over. We are not exactly… Common?  Mundane? Ordinary?  I don’t know… We are we. And there’s nothing else. For now. Nothing else.

other day’s argument – rant from a women who understands everything

A friend of mine got himself stuck in a bad situation, between two women. I overheard an argument he had the other day. He said: “Being in love? How is that good? Like telling someone, that he/she  has cancer, but not the very bad kind.

It was like a kick in the teeth. 

That kind of despite-

I mean, I’m the first one to understand, and to emphasize with someone going through the hurt dwelling in relations between humans. …But this? I never thought of loving like this. Cancer, my ass!

Don’t get me wrong. I know love is a shapeshifter.

Sometimes it’s a huge waterfall roaring over the edge, and you can’t escape its  currents, no matter how hard you struggle. 

Sometimes it’s a burning mountain, devouring  everything in its way, sucking out the air of your lungs, boiling your eyes.  

Sometimes it’s a warm meal, waterproof shoes and a coat.

Sometimes just a “Good morning, how are you today?”.

Sometimes it’s a hand to hold, when you’re in pain…

I have tag called: LOVEISTHEPROBLEM. A quote from Aeon Flux, when asked what she knew. Even if didn’t looked like it – I’ve always admired love and lovers. I’ve always marveled to the changes love caused.

I don’t know how it’s different, from other people in love. But when I am – I start to act weirdly.

Parts of me try to be better. That positive feeling sneaking up behind me, and giving me a hug. I’m try to lose fear. Try to be the best I can be. Because the other one deserves nothing from my fear, anger and frustration. 

I try to create a free space for the significant other. A place to come to rest. A place to be true, without expectations, without fear. A place where nothing bad happens, because you  and your needs are welcomed.  The way you are. A place allowing  everything you and your partner are. Fully. Accepted. Embraced. Dealt with. Satisfied. A place without remorse, without shame.

This  is what I think of loving. 


I can’t stop myself from looking at him – snow white skin, hair, dark as chocolate, topaz eyes borrowed from a bird of prey, soft lips, bowed in a mischievous arch – vibrant memories, which won’t  let me sleep, won’t let me close my eyes. Even if I do, I’ll open them up, asap. Feeling his breath, his gaze peeled to whatever there is to be to be noticed in my face.

Even in the darkness of the room, drawn curtains, and the half moon shining… Even in the solid black mist his eyes seems to glow in that strange orange golden light. He seems to emit it, his faces, his mouthes, his shiny teeth… All screaming curiosity.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. I´ve never seen someone fall asleep before.”

“What? Never? Why?”

“I never sleep. So I’m curious.”

“Suit yourself.” Indeed, I’m exhausted, and ´bout to fall asleep. “So you never sleep, hm? Do you – ever dream?” My lips move lazily. The bed sheets still hot and messed up. Feeling heavy on my skin.

“Yes. But mine are different from yours. I do not lose myself doing so.” His voice softens, moves closer somewhere near my left temple. “And when you’ll lose yourself, you’ll be empty – a living, breathing hollow shell. Just waiting.” His voice sounds now like a whisper, moves suddenly from my left to the right ear… Of course -forgot- two mouthes. Two tongues. Strangely, they sound the same.

Can’t open my eyes, sleep burns inside of them. It is a soft warm black, that keeps dripping, dissolving into my mind. “Mhm. What for?” Words drop out hazily, I just breathe them out.

“For me, to do as I please… Shhh, now. Go back to sleep…”

sensory deprivation

There am I.

Absent-mindedly sitting on a pillow, a glass of milk in my hand. “Cheers.” Yeah, talking to myself too. Not the best first impression, I guess.

Sitting on the ground, staring at the snow white wall in front of me. The carpet is white too, so is the door, and the window frame. In this room, everything is white – everything, but me.

But I do not look at myself. Never seeing myself. Which is, bluntly said, a quite a normal thing. I mean, who can?

But I see the blankness. Bone dry, lurking white army of shallow thoughts. Just drifting, drifting to sink and rise again. In the rhythm of my personal space-time, spent here. Only by myself. One breath after another, ticking away – never to return.

Sensory deprivation is something one should get used to, before trying to spend hours in such a place. Cause it’s a torture at first. Cause it’s boring. Deadly boring. Insanely boring.

But then, your brain starts to entertain itself with patches of color, music playing in your head – if you’re lucky, it’s music you like- patterns of geometric forms, weird thoughts popping up in your mind.

It’s entertainment… Nothing more.