They say I should stop watering a dead flower. But what if it was the most precious flower I had? / At least we're under the same sky and we see the same clouds. You never know how much space you occupy in other's people lives. // Making mistakes is better than faking perfection. // The sadness won’t go away. Learn to turn it into an art. // Maybe I should’ve chased warm smiles instead of cold eyes.

"We hate surrendering, yet we surrender ourselves to something every single day. Nearly everything else we give ourselves to will consume more than it gives back; it does not have our best interests in mind; it drains us. While surrendering to God is so difficult in the beginning, we end up sacrificing what we never needed anyway: the anger, unforgiveness, pride, ego, lust."

Silence is just like the color black. It’s meaningful. Strong. Deep. It does absolutely nothing yet explains everything. You can write pages about it. It’s elegant and noble without trying. All this, and it doesn’t even make a sound.

Those blue eyes had more darkness than any brown eyes I had ever seen before.

I have a special skill of feeling too much when I shouldn’t, and feeling nothing when I should.

The closer we got physically, the more distant we got mentally.
I saw your eyes
I saw your heart
Both were beautiful
But I couldn’t touch

I wanted to be free
I wanted to be happy
Drinking and driving
Playing a game called survivin
Yesterday’s pleasures are
Today’s troubles

People say actions speak louder than words, but feelings speak louder than both.

As time passes, everything is starting to make more sense, but at the same time everything is losing its meaning.

Just because people act like it’s your fault; it doesn’t mean you are guilty.

Out of luck
Out of love
Out of mind
Out of focus
Out of line
Out of reach
Out of sight
Out of order
Out of hand
Out of control 
Writers are most likely liars. Not because of their imagination, but because of their potential pasts. A writer probably loved something too much once, too much that it was an addiction. A writer is an addict. An addict is a liar. A writer is a liar

Maybe we should have chased colors, instead of finding comfort in darkness.

Today, for the first time I realized that you are the one who missed out. I may have lost the love of my life when you walked away, but you lost someone who loves you more than life.

It’s like I want you more now that I can’t see you. Whoever said, out of sight out of mind never fell in love with someone’s soul.
I probably shouldn’t, but I will.

I’m a professional when it comes to falling for the wrong people.

Nothing was blue. 
Everything was black. His thoughts, his faults, his heart. 
Nothing was grey. 
Everything was white. Her smile, her lies, her cries. 
And it was cruel. 
But it was beyond colors.

The moment I saw you, I was doomed. I was lost and I thought I would find myself, but somehow I lost myself even more. You did nothing but it meant everything to me. I fell for you more with every gaze and you got more loyal to her with every word. I have never felt this way before and I know, I will never desire anyone as much as I wanted you. You made me feel so much without actually caring for me, and I couldn’t stop myself from dreaming what would it be like if you actually cared. I got sucked into a fantasy world and lost contact with reality. I was obsessed with you. I was addicted to you. So I replaced one addiction with another and found relief in my old ways. It cured me for a while, because I was numb. I barely remember anything from the last year. I made bad decisions. And even worst action. I didn’t care because every decision I made was connected to you. I was going insane so there was no logic in my actions. I became friends with people I hate because they were close to you. I acted like I like random people to get your attention. I blamed her but the problem was me. Even if you weren’t hers, you would never be mine. Facing reality was harder than getting sober. Living with the feeling of having you, without ever actually having you, made me lose my mind. I can’t cry anymore. I can’t live with your dream anymore. I’m overwhelmed by fighting for you and living this love alone. I thought nothing would be too much when it comes to you, but my affection is more than I can handle. I need to stop loving you so I can start loving myself again. Because I can’t do both. I’m so focused on you that I keep forgetting about myself. You made me forget my own. There cannot be anything worse than losing respect and love to yourself. I know, because I haven’t asked myself anything since the moment I saw you. All my life was centered around you. Now I know the fine line between loving someone and being obsessed with someone. The minute I crossed that line, I became someone I dislike. I don’t know who I am anymore and it is too sad to live like this. I really wish you gave me the chance to love you freely, but you didn’t let me live this, ‘once in a life time’ feeling. You did everything to kill it, although I fought like a warrior. Unfortunately, now I am worn out. Emotinally and mentally unstable. Going through self hate and self harm. I’m close to death more than I’m close to your heart, and for the first time it scares me. I cannot waste away my life this way. At least not anymore. These lines are my closure to move on. Starting over a life without your eyes, your smile, your dream and my love for you. A life without you…

When I look at him, I wonder… 
If he has problems too 
If he has secrets If he has trouble sleeping at night 
If he cries If he has a dark side inside 
If he pretends to be happy like I do 
If he has a mask on 

I want to quit my responsibilities
Drive away from the city
To a place where only green and blue exist
To a place where I can write poetry all day
I want to quit life so I can start living
I want to write all day and read all night
I want to see the moonlight without the city lights and ambulance sirens
I want to see the seaside without jet-skis and yachts
I want to continue dreaming and believe it for once

You might think I’m sad over someone else, but most likely I’m sad over you.

“Well, you never knew exactly how much space you occupied in people's lives. Yet from this fog his affection emerged--the best contacts are when one knows the obstacles and still wants to preserve a relation.”

"You have to accept that some people are not made for deep conversations, or for holding you together when you’re about to fall apart, or for keeping you from unzipping your skin, or for talking you out of suicide, or to love you through the worst moments of your life. Some people are made for shallow exchanges, and ridiculous banter, and nothing more. And that’s okay. That doesn’t make them horrible people because they simply aren’t able to handle a storm like you. It doesn’t make you a bad person because you won’t divulge all the gritty details of your horror show. It makes you smart. You have to accept that there will be people that cannot give you what you need. It doesn’t mean they are not worth keeping in your life. You just have to figure out who these ones are before you’re disappointed. And you have to keep them at arm’s length. You cannot expect everyone in your life to understand, to be nonjudgmental, to get it. But that’s okay, because not everyone was made to impart wisdom, or wax-poetic, or speak on politics and the depravity of society, or discuss how crucial it is that the stigma of mental illness be abolished. There are times when you have to get away from all that heaviness. You have to. And you will need superficial conversation about Kim Kardashian’s arse, or a debate on the colour of The Dress. You will need those ones. So don’t go round cutting people off and dropping your friends. You need people for all your seasons. You need people or you won’t survive this."

Let's hold hands not guns.

Everyone elses ego has made me lose mine.

Keeping busy has kept me sane.

You shouldn't have to try to make people believe in you.

It could be different. You could be different.

Question everything but never question yourself.

If you kiss me like you mean it why can't you ever stay?

I guess you have to be a little bit crazy to think your dreams will come true.



"It’s easy to feel uncared for when people aren’t able to communicate and connect with you in the way you need. And it’s so hard not to internalize that silence as a reflection on your worth. But the truth is that the way other people operate is not about you. Most people are so caught up in their own responsibilities, struggles, and anxiety that the thought of asking someone else how they’re doing doesn’t even cross their mind. They aren’t inherently bad or uncaring — they’re just busy and self-focused. And that’s okay. It’s not evidence of some fundamental failing on your part. It doesn’t make you unloveable or invisible. It just means that those people aren’t very good at looking beyond their own world. But the fact that you are — that despite the darkness you feel, you have the ability to share your love and light with others — is a strength. Your work isn’t to change who you are; it’s to find people who are able to give you the connection you need. Because despite what you feel, you are not too much. You are not too sensitive or too needy. You are thoughtful and empathetic. You are compassionate and kind. And with or without anyone’s acknowledgment or affection, you are enough."


When you feel like it is our last moment, please remember our first one.

"Vulnerability is the essence of romance. It’s the art of being uncalculated, the willingness to look foolish, the courage to say, ‘This is me, and I’m interested in you enough to show you my flaws with the hope that you may embrace me for all that I am but, more important, all that I am not.






Faith is poisonous because if it’s strong enough, it can kill the things you love the most - your addictions.

Are you running away from your past or hiding from your future?

 sztuką życia nie jest na siłę kogoś zatrzymywać, 
a sprawić, by ten ktoś nie chciał odejść.

"Czasem wystarczy jeden człowiek, aby stracić zaufanie do całej reszty

With time you will become everything you said you wouldn’t.
95% of the time I feel absolutely nothing, but that 5% of the time I feel everything all at once.
I guess we are all a little addicted to a certain kind of sadness and a specific kind of person.




I think I wrote this song as a reminder that sometimes the best way forward is to not look back…”

And we are quotation marks, inverted and upside down, clinging to one another at the end of this life sentence. Trapped by lives we did not choose."

"Zwiąż się z osobą, z która lubisz spędzać czas. To proste. Związki stworzone tylko na przyciąganiu fizycznym i dobrym rżnięciu wypalają się strasznie szybko. I druga rzecz: ta osoba, z którą będziesz musi się bać tego, że może cię stracić." — “Pokolenie Ikea

"Nie jesteśmy wcale wspaniałym pokoleniem. Jesteśmy bandą przyspawanych do internetu, otępiałych od przestymulowania idiotów. Zamiast przeżyć cokolwiek, myślimy tylko jak o tym przeżyciu poinformować innych." —

"Perhaps we only leave, so we may once again arrive.

Everybody wants to be a model. Nobody wants to be a role model.” Ever since I read this sentence onMatt Adam´s instagram it has haunted me. We always show (off) ourselves, what we do, what we achieve, what we like, what we don´t. Each one of us is like the model of our own brand. And most interactions are almost just reduced to an exchange of those different “model lives.” But I wonder where have all the real role models gone? The ones where you know there is nothing fake behind, not trying to sell themselves for something they are not, or not constantly trying to “sell” themselves at all, the ones that you can look up to in the sense that they give you some wisdom along the way. Someone who doesn´t just follow but gives you a different view on something without trying to manipulate you. Someone who gives you some answers for life so you don´t have to make all the mistakes on your own. Or maybe we just don´t need anymore those ones, that we feel like we can look up to? Because we all have our opinions, make our own experiences and what we don´t know we look up on the internet. And maybe it is not worth anymore striving for being a role model yourself as values are disposable trends that come and go. Furthermore, there is a thin line between role model and manipulation and some role models are anyhow only injected on you with ulterior motives and for the benefit of something totally different than it appears.
Maybe the constant influence of commercials telling us how special, unique and perfect we are anyway and that we can be anything and anyone and the whole world is just waiting for our special abilities to be seen makes everyone wanting to be a model. No doubt we are all special and unique, but maybe having a few role models again instead of everyone wanting to be a model would also take away a lot of pressure of constantly branding oneself and leave some space and time for a profound progress of our abilites and after all everything else that we are or could be.
I am a happy listener. I like to listen to people, to give advice. But I have to admit that in the last years maybe that passion of mine has become a bit less. Because some people´s life only seems to evolve around themselves. When you meet them they always just talk about their own life, their problems and what is even more tiring – mostly it evolves around the same problems over and over again. And no matter what advice you give, nothing changes. And you feel like going round in circles with them, always-doing-it-the-same-way- even-if-it-is-not-working. There are really things in life that you cannot influence and where there is reason to find it hard to deal with and to grow desperate. But there are also a lot of things that you can change. That you sometimes just need to see from a different perspective. Or where you have to face the truth that it is your own fault because you are doing something in the wrong way or you are not making enough of an effort. We are like fools sometimes,not seeing or wanting to see the easy and logical solution in front of our eyes. And we rather suffer and continue to complain instead of changing. Besides other things – life is also about always working hard on yourself to learn, grow and develop. Each day, each moment.

jak w ciągu miesiąca skreślić wartościową znajomość z dużym potencjałem - poradnik ekpertki, lvl master / wysączyłam dwa kieliszki białego wina (czerwone mnie nie chwyta, mój organizm myśli, że przyjmuję je dla dobra trawienia) i jestem już gotowa, aby podzielić się ze światem komrpomitującą prawdą i efektywnymi poradami, które działałają w naprawdę ekspresowym tempie. Nie mówię oczywiście, że je polecam - nie mogę podpisać się przy nich imieniem, ani nazwiskiem, z wystawionym w górę kciukiem i wysuszającym jedynki amerykańskim uśmiechem. Miesiąc temu mogłabym sygnować je wizerunkiem z rozmazaną mascarą (tak, zasiliłam grono pand, jednak mojej duszy wciąż bardziej odpowiada przysposobienie innego zwierzęcia. Leniwca oczywiście) i toną chusteczek. W sumie po wysuszeniu wyglądają niemalże jak nowe - damn, celuloza zdała egzamin, Jestem dumna z następujących producentów: Mola i xx, bo ich chusteczki przeszły test zalania morzem łez. Gorzkich łez. Ph o wartości co najmniej 7,5. Każda łza zawierała co najmniej dwa mililitry rozczarowania i pół xxxlitra goryczy. Gdyby ktoś wziął taką chusteczkę do ust, od razu zacząłby pluć na prawo i lewo, bo taka dawka smutku jest już niekwestionowaną trucizną. A jednak mnie nie zabiła. A czy wzmocniła, jak szczepionka, lub ekstremalnie silny lek homeopatyczny? Na pewno, tak samo jak skok z ósmego piętra warszawskiego wieżowca - jeśli nie połamie kości, to wzmocni ich strukturę i sprawi, że będzie bardziej zbita. No więc moja struktura jest zbita, a ja sama czułam się przez kilka długich tygodni jak zbity pies. Albo raczej przybita kocica.

Dlaczego? Ano dlatego, że opanowałam sztukę zawartą w tytule do perfekcji. Mogłabym wykładać na uniwersytetach i prowadzić na ten temat rozległe sympozia - obawiam się, że nikt nie chciałby doskonalić się w tym kierunku, ani robić magisterki o rujnowaniu swoich relacji międzyludzkich, ale mimo wszystko - mogłabym! Może znalazłaby się grupka masochistów, którzy dla zabawy zechcieliby trochę pogmatwać swoje życie. Może liczyliby na to, że później mogliby przyjść do mnie na kolejne zajęcia o tym jak je naprawić i przywrócić do ładu i porządku. Eh, naiwniacy! Aczkolwiek jeśli ktoś jednak wykłada takie zajęcia, to powinnam zacząć na nie uczęszczać. Po siedmiu latach może uzyskałabym zaliczenie ;)

Ale do rzeczy (jakaś łacinska nazwa!) - 

A tak na marginesie, z boku mojego poplamionego i wypełnionego po brzegi anatomicznymi rysunkami (autorstwa moich niewinnych kolegów) zeszytu - nie wiem co z tym blogiem począć. Nie wiem czy chcę się obnażać i podpisywać imieniem, albo jeszcze odważniej - nazwiskiem! Piszę prawdę i tylko prawdę (jak w sądzie, o!) , ale prawda bywa momentami zbyt intymna i zbyt szczera, by tak publicznie się do niej przyznawać. Co myślicie? Oczywiście zmieniam imiona i personalne dane, żeby nikt nie poczuł się dotknięty moimi spostrzeżeniami - ale równocześnie ten blog powinien być przestrogą - hej, nie zadzierajcie ze mną, bo obsmaruję Wasze tendencje i nawyki w sieci. Don't mess up with me, bo namaluję Wam wirtualnego pryszcza, podczas tworzenia psychologicznego portretu. Może za kilka lat, kiedy moje statystyki poszybują w górę niczym F16 podczas auerofestivalu na Ławicy, a mojego bloga czytywać będzie nawet autorka książki "Faceci są z marsa, kobiety z wenus" (kurde, udowodnię jej, że to bzdura - mężczyźni nie pochodzą z Marsa, a z nieznanej i skrajnie nielogicznej galaktyki, lub jakiejś odległej czarnej dziury na samym końcu kosmosu. Jako nieustraszona kobieta XXI wieku często odwiedzam te rejony, ale za każdym razem wracam niedotleniona, a wręcz podduszona. Mówię Wam, jakość powietrza w tych rejonach ssie). Może w tej niedalekiej przyszłości, ludzie będą bali się ze mną umówić na niezobowiązującą kawkę, bo będę budziła grozę i strachliwe pytania "a co jeśli napiszę, że siorbałem, albo przygryzałem słomkę od tymbarka?" i będę skazana na towarzystwo stadka buldogów i współpracę z wyżej wymienionymi producentami chusteczek? Mniejsza - najważniejsze, że nikt nie posądzi mnie o to, że zostałam starą panną, bo się nie starałam. Zawsze się starałam. CZASAMI ZA BARDZO. Opiszę to na blogu, ale to przy okazji, po kolejnym kieliszku Carlo Rossi.  No wiecie, nie chcę się poświęcać na rzecz społecznego dobra, ani nauki, ale myślę, że podczas swojego krótkiego życia (ale bez paniki, nie musicie dociekać danych bohaterów moich opowieści i odsyłać ich do sądu - nie jestem szesnastolatką) przeżyłam już tyle i wyciągnęłam z tego tyle wniosków, że warto by to było spisać, na wypadek, gdybym kolejnych perypetii nie przetrwała w jednym kawałku. Serce zawsze krwawi, zazwyczaj niegroźnie i powodując tylko bolesny krwotok wewnętrzny, ale pewnego dnia niedokrwistość ( dodatkowo mam awersję do wołowiny, a podobno zawiera najwięcej żelaza...) sprawi, że będzie mniej różowo. 

Ja, faceci (i inne nieszczęścia)
przestałam odczuwać potrzebę, żeby pisać do nich, wylewać w okienkach naszych konwersacji żale po niecałkiem optymistycznych happy endach, próbować wzniecać ugaszony dawko płomień i jakoś wytłumaczyć, albo racjonalizować niektóre elementy znajomości. Zauważyłam, że pisanie O NICH daje mi większą ulgę, czasami kończącą się catharsis. Umawiając się z blondynką nigdy nie trać czujności - to mogę być ja! ( chociaż cenię swój czas, więc jeśli nie masz głębokich przepełnionych emocjami oczu, nie potrafisz rozmawiać godzinami o jedzeniu i w każdym zdaniu nadużywasz tej oto emotikony: możesz być spokojny, najprawdopodobniej nigdy się nie spotkaliśmy i się nie spotkamy. 

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