Home alone

Sometimes I find myself thinking I've caught a glimpse of you in the crowd. It's your coat. Your way of doing your thick hair. Your scarf flattering in the breeze. Could it be...? I'm about to shout your name. Call out. Hey, notice me. I'm here. Then it hits me. You're not here with me. It can't possibly be you. I'm left here. I'm here denisaless. But a piece of me is there with you.

I know it's difficult to leave. To go away, abroad, change the environment for something completely unknow and unfamiliar. It's a brave step, forward to your future. Both requiring sacrafices and causing a lot of unease to say the least. However, the bright side of it surely must overdo these terrifying implications - left alone, only dependant on your own capabilities, failing and succeeding, every day a new challenge. 

Now, I don't want to diminish all that...

At home, seeing well-known faces, surrounded by familiarity, security. All the same. But yet different. Feeling like an allien? A stranger at home? Yes, because you're not here with me. Everything seems distant. It is said that only when we lose something we realise the true value of it in our lives. For one thing I believe I haven't lost you :). You're just temporarily unavailable for real-life hugs (thanks for the virtual ones!), right? And secondly, I hope I have appreciated you when we were together. I honestly count myself to the lucky ones knowing you.

I love you - that's probably all I want to say and I want you to be sure of.

I'll be waiting :)

Come Home

Misterious Myst

I really love misty mornings. They convey something unknown. Undiscovered. Yet familiar but somewhat different. Why? We’ve seen the things hiding in their foggy veil a thousand times. Sure we did… but isn’t “mystery” what is written in the air hovering just above the river? Mystery that wants to be explored and revealed. I still think that somebody might have misspelled mystery with a “y”. Somehow it makes you wonder if you really recall the things as they are. Familiarity is a tricky thing. You can never be too sure. Then the fog lifts and it’s exactly what you thought, right? Well, kinda. Almost. More or less, you know…  

I look out of the window and see blurred buildings, silhouettes. Fog-shrouded they play hide and seek. In the distance there is a kind of milky nothingness bearing something after all. It’s calling: The closer you are, the better you know.

I go out and feel the chilly mask being placed on my face. It takes some time for my lungs to adjust to the harsh air. My head appreciates the clearing, awakening effect. Then my eyes try to make out shapes and fail. My lips, however, crack a subtle smile. It’s a misty morning lasting for a while.   

Socks and sandals should break up

It’s happening. It’s happening all around us! The other day I was walking along the street, happily, peacefully, when I saw it. There it was just right in front of me – a man. A man in sandals. A man in sandals WITH socks. 

I mean, why? Why would somebody in their right mind do something like that? It’s just…arrrgh. I admit, however, that it’s acceptable under ONE CONDITION! If having to look at the person’s bare feet would be an even bigger sore for the eyes. Then yes, I’d rather he wore socks in sandals (just hide them away for everybody’s sake). But otherwise NO! A big, fat, bold, firm, enormous, dyed-in-the-wool “NO” to all socks + sandal wearers. 

Well, you know socks are perfectly fine and enjoyable to wear. Sandals, I mean, come on, who wouldn’t love them (everyone has at least one pair sitting in their wardrobe or wherever). But together NEVER! I’m begging you, please, don’t. Just don’t do it, OK? For the preservation of my mental health (and I’m sure of many others’, too). :-)

 

Okay, I just wanted to get this off my chest. I’m surely better now… but I mean that guy! Excuse me, but what was he thinking?! He wore ankle-length socks in his sandals. I’m asking: Wait, so that’s ok now? You sincerely thought you’d get away with it? I beg your pardon, but what difference does it make? They’re still socks in sandals…Aaargh… I …ehm…okay, I need calm down. But seriously what was he thinking?!    

stuDYING

There are days you think, “Hey, I’ve done pretty well” and then there are others which…you know, just suck and the only reasonable thing to do seems to be a *headdesk*. Everybody has gone through it. Some fail but well, there are people with a degree or diploma or whatever. So probably it will be fine. Hopefully. Right?   

Encouraged by a successful day – one which you can confidently pat yourself on the back about– you come to think, mistakenly, that from that point on every day will be like that one… just so you know, it won’t be. The time and energy you’ve saved and the progress you’ve made will be wasted so quickly that you barely notice it disappearing. 

Maybe on the next day – after your successful one – you will be able to keep up with the pace. But then >>>BOOM<<<. You sit. You stare – yeah, staring is by far my favourite. You drink. You eat. You stretch. You cry. You stare some more. You burn your book (or are dangerously close to doing so). You examine a plain white wall. You watch other people. You study your nails. You dream about a good lunch. You dully look down at a page full of some random letters. You doodle. You stare for a change. You wander around. You bury your face in your hands. You feel like every time you read a new sentence it sucks out a piece of information you’ve already learned. And at the peak of your despair the famous headdesk comes. You slowly arrive at the stage where you accept your failure to study even one more sentence. No. Just no. Not going to happen today. And you know what? It’s better to accept it than to fight it because otherwise you just grow even more frustrated with yourself and that would make your counterproductive day even worse. Then you couldn’t go on. 

So don’t punish yourself. Don’t be too hard on yourself. Everyone deserves a break (not a long one, though). Take it easy. Relax. Don’t stress. But… be sure not to mess up one of the most important exams you need for your degree. But again – no pressure!     

An open letter to Winter

            Dear Dearest Winter,

Firstly, let me express my deepest admiration of You and Your work. What You did on Christmas Eve was really nice impressive to say the least. You were the centre of my everybody’s attention without a doubt. I dare say it was a phenomenon never seen before by the human eye. It was a period of pure delight, tenderness, calmness, bliss, and overall prosperity just because You reached to the bottom of Your power and enabled us to be a part of Your splendorous realm.    

Secondly, however, allow me to demonstrate to You the mood about Your extended stay nowadays. As we all know the colourful jolly fellow, Spring who shall not be named here, of course, is on his way and we’ve been looking forw expecting him already. Although, somehow he isn’t around just yet and we are kind of worried he might have lost his way to us. Well, I know it’s none of Your business but have you kidnapped him and locked up in a dark cellar?! I’ve been wondering if You don’t just by any chance happen to know something about this delicate matter? Anyway, white Easter was Your very own idea or has somebody else come up with it? Because I personally think it’s a frigging shitty marvellous one. 

Unfortunately, I’ve got to be going but I hope not to be hearing from You for ages to be hearing from You very soon! 

We are all really looking forward to Your getting the fuck out even more amazing.

Yours sincerely,

Kristína and Co.