| 2006/09/20 |
| period |
I’m sitting here in our weekend house in piece and quiet. I did my chores and have time now to write what I wanted to write sometime ago.
There IS a difference between men and women.
PERIOD
I suffer from that difference more than most women and less than some. I always wanted to be a boy when I was younger.
There is a saying in our language that says if one gets on the other side of the rainbow one switches their gender. I always dreamt of doing that even after they told me that rainbows are optical delusions. I’m still so very fascinated when I see them. maybe I still believe they can help me in becoming somebody else, to reach the unreachable. Naturally I don’t wish I could switch sexes anymore. That wish vanished about 5 years ago. That was the first time I felt gorgeous in my skin, felt loved for who I was and not for who I could be.
But there comes a day or two each month when physical part of being a woman doesn’t flatter me. I turn into an unsatisfied pale creature with zits. It feels like all the blood from my body is vanishing being absorbed always in some kind of plastic. I feel that I’m empty no blood to run my organism just the pain. My lips are dry, if I bit them I would feel no pain bigger than I already feel no red fluid would rush out of the wound. My mind feels like I would be possessed by some kind of an evil demon: I hate myself, I hate the world, I hate the hatred, hate the pain, hate the state I’m in and yet I like my brain is floating in nothingness.
I try to lay down to release the tenseness in joints, but then all that pain moves to my stomach and grows there and grows and grows till it starts pressing on my back. The only thing left to do is cry in pain and try to repress it with thermoform and hot tea. I refuse to take pills as you may have noticed. I believe they are poisonous. Yes they help you with the pain but meanwhile they destroy your body: they consist of something that is eating your body away bit by bit. And this is why I take them only when the pain is at the top, when I crawl and cry tears so large they could use me to put down fire in Dalmatia. I stay tough for as long as I can, I know it won’t kill me.
When the first couple of critical days pass world seems brighter both to me and all the people who deal with me on daily basis. I can feel, my mind is defrosting, I am loved, I can love back, life is filling my lips again, my cheeks are red, strength is returning to my body. I survived again.
And after I survive something like this every month I don’t need some wise ass that can never go through this telling me how privileged women are. I don’t need someone telling me that I can lose my job if I have children at this moment. I don’t need someone telling me how I have to have children that this will fulfil my womanhood. And I don’t need some man telling me that a year of maternity leave is just too much.
I came to the point I never meant to go when I started writing, but I guess all of this falls into the same category. |
posted by calamity @ 9/20/2006 09:50:00 pm   |
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| 2006/09/18 |
| fights |
Now a total opposite to what I wrote the last time.
When you love someone you would do anything to keep it going, to keep them love you, you would even hurt them just to keep it interesting so they are never bored with you and you are never bored with them.
You always try to be the best, do the best and you also want your significant other to do the same, you want you two to be perfect.
You want the honey part to last forever even though everybody has been telling you this is not how things work.
Well we managed to keep the honey part so long and it doesn’t seem to be fading away. They say the marriage and the kids could bring those changes, but as I’m still studying I don’t see those coming any time soon so I guess we’re still cool.
But besides all that we had our share of fights. We had nothing to fight for to be honest. But we did fight. You know those small meaningless fights that are just too stupid to describe to anybody, when you are being silly and want things to be even more perfect than the ideal.
We had a lot of those. They were so severe we both end up crying, wanting to dye, to do something in order to prove how much we really loved each other.
It’s been some time since our last fight. He was in Germany at that time and we had to fight over the phone. In the end he couldn’t hold me and tell me thing will be just fine as he always did. I couldn’t look into his eyes to see if he means everything he says. We talked and we talked. I was pretty mean towards him, called him names, I wanted to hurt him as much as he hurt me. He listened and sucked in every word because he knew it was his fault. It ended up with me being sorry for the mean things I had told him and him being sad for hurting me. He came home the next day and we felt like a re-born couple. More than five months have passed since then and we didn’t repeat the mistake I have a feeling we are getting there though.
The important thing is that we would never let those things tear us apart we would always talk things out and make compromises.
I had to write this, because it suffocated me.
And the question stays: why do we even need those fights?
And even if I get thousands of answers and even if some of those seem right we will still fight because we care about each other this much. |
| posted by calamity @ 9/18/2006 11:51:00 am |
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| 2006/09/15 |
| Tttttthe things that make the world a better place |
The way you go through my hair - it makes me purr.
The way your hand floats on my skin makes me stretch in comfort.
The way you look at me, make my eyes get watery.
The way your face rubs against mine and I get Goosebumps.
The way you kiss me makes me long for the sweetness of the soul drinking even more.
The way your hug makes everything better – the way you make me feel.
The things you do for me, for us – you must really love me.
How you always want me around – you must really adore me.
How you take me with you everywhere – you would like to tag me with your name.
How you prepare breakfast for us, how your coffee has the aroma of desire.
How you help me clean so I don’t exhaust myself.
How much fun we have while cooking I could never feel alone at such a lonesome choir.
How I can sleep for hours while you’re around, and how insomnia tortures me when you’re not.
How you squeeze close to me in the mornings telling me to sleep some more.
How these things make me overly jealous and how your jealousness makes me sad yet it flatters me.
How you care for my happiness and the things you do for it.
How you love me.
How I love you. |
| posted by calamity @ 9/15/2006 09:16:00 am |
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| green |
 The scorching sun sends its rays to destroy. It finds an oblivion glass thrown away by some indifferent drunk. The glass beautiful all sure in green is laying on the meadow, or so it appears to the sun this is why it wants to surround it with warmth of its powerful rays. They both can feel the heath, they enjoy it, but they forget about the world. And suddenly it is too late. Together they created a fire that was burning down their supposedly indestructible meadow.
A miracle followed the glass started crying the tears so immense like it wanted to let go all the pain he never could and only now it was given a chance to cry and the fire around it was ceasing. Sun witnessing such powerful emotion it began an act of tears as well. And together they cried to demolish the sin they created. The fire was gone in a second as a village hit by a nuclear bomb.
The tears stopped.
To remind them of the calamity there was burned down meadow, nothingness, the only thing with value were the memories and the hope and the will.
Hope that the meadow can grow on this sorry soil again and will to nurture it.
Under the power of hope one could see little bits of grass appearing on the black.
And once black will someday become green.
Did you know that ashes work like fertilizers? |
| posted by calamity @ 9/15/2006 08:47:00 am |
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| 2006/09/12 |
| to say something when you have nothing to say |
A lot of things have been happening to me lately.
My honey came home and he’ll be staying here for some time. We’ve been spending a lot of time together and I realized even more now how much I loved him and missed him.
I passed all of the exams and I’m ready for my third year of college.
Yesterday was 9/11 2006, it was our fifth anniversary, yes the 9/11 has brought us together.
Every anniversary we had up till now was very special, but not this one. I felt like shit the whole day long, we didn’t do anything nice, had to do a lot of meaningless errands, it was just the worst.
Are we chickening out? Have we become one of those old married couples that don’t care anymore? Why did I feel so shitty when I should be happy to have this guy in my life? Was I expecting too much for that day?
I was awful and he was nothing but a sweetheart the whole day.
Anyway we talked about it and concluded that this one bad day isn’t of any importance when you have so much terrific days together.
I still feel strange today I just hope that we’ll go on holiday soon and that we’ll both get our will back.
I’m bullshitting. |
| posted by calamity @ 9/12/2006 11:39:00 am |
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| how one can fuck up a perfectly nice post |
The curtain opens it's again she, him and the gun between them. This is the scenario played through their life together, they are poor actors, and they have to play whichever scenario they get.
It’s been so long and the hand holding a gun wasn’t always hers it wasn’t always his either. They have reached this point in their lives where it doesn’t matter who holds the gun, who leads the game, it only matters that the leader is there, that the gun is there and it’s being held.
The audience claps hands when they see them appear on the stage and they wait in anticipation to see how carefully they will play the role while a knife dangles over their heads. They can’t handle the pressure of aiming a gun and having a gun aimed at them. The gun has to be aimed and they can’t afford a third actor, they have to be what they were.
The gun is in someone’s hands the audience can’t see whether it is he or she holding it. The gun is getting heavy and the table will turn, but the audience won’t even notice the switch.
Everything is blurry and the curtain falls. |
| posted by calamity @ 9/12/2006 10:54:00 am |
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| 2006/09/04 |
| GUNS N' ROSES |
“If you don't get it, if you are so ignorant of the truth thrown at your face then you don’t deserve to live,” said she and took a gun.
Her hands were shaking as she was pointing it at his forehead, shaking so hard she had to press it against his os frontale.
She was crying, he was laughing.
The table turned now: she was the one who had all the power, the gun, but he still owned her, he owned her mind, her soul, her heart – they both knew that. This is why he was amused by the situation; this is why she was uncertain and scared.
She knew that after she pulls that trigger her life will go from bad to worse. Destiny that is larger than both of them will punish her. She’ll be living a dead woman’s life: without him nobody would care for her, nobody would love her, she would have nobody at all.
She can’t leave things as they are. She can’t change things for the better.
She and him and the gun in-between them.
And the curtain falls.
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| posted by calamity @ 9/04/2006 12:07:00 pm |
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| About Me |
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Name: calamity
Home: ptuj, štajerska, Slovenia
About Me: ehhh
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