posledny den

este chvilu stojim v pene po clenky, z vlasov mi padaju velke kvapky, a mihalnice zachytavaju teplu, hustu paru. draha mojej cesty do sprchy je tak priezracna ako vasnive milovania vo filmoch. na tmavych dlazdicich nechavam kusky oblecenia, len predchvilou nedockavo odhodene. zarosene zrkadla, makke svetlo, biele uteraky a vzdialene tony fantoma opery ma unavuju, citim sa neskutocne daleko, neskutocne stastna, neskutocne vyrovnana, az neprijemne sama. 

robi mi caj, donesie mi ho v oblubenom hrnceku. to je moj oblubeny, vravim.

ja viem.

...

ked pridem domov, najdem si noty na tuto skladbu, zahram to nasim. 

usmievam sa.

ked pridem domov ja... ponorim sa pod hladinu vo velkej vani, nebudem jest s priborom zo skolskej jedalne a vyspim sa v makkej posteli. 

cas odist, dokoncit, co som tu zacala.

do cervena

prepisujem macroeconomicke prikladiky a popritom robim zivotne rozhodnutia.

na novorocnu party si obliekam bordove zamatove, s tymi ciernymi steklickami. vlasy budu trochu retro, s velkou ciernou maslou a ruz bude ladovo cerveny. nechtiky tiez, a mozno aj spodna bielizen. alebo ziadna spodna bielizen. hodi sa to k cervenym satam a cervenym peram.

rozhodujem sa, raz ho nekonecne lubim a moj dalsi zivot si neviem predstavit bez neho, a potom sa rozhodnem uplne opacne. mozno urobim stastnym jedneho zo zastupu adeptov - a nebudem sa pokusat o nemozne s nim. blokujem ho v chate - skor pre mna, kedze ja som zvacsa ta iniciativna pytajuc sa na pocasie alebo nejaku obmenu pocasovej konverzacie. stratilo to zmysel, jednostranne-umelo udrziavat kontakt. a potom rano otvaram email od s. ktory sa pyta ako sa mam. 

dobre, vravim si sama pre seba. 

a vraciam sa k zivotne dolezitym rozhodnutiam o cervenej.

marriages and other stuff

she was very quick to share her love stories with me. it was only two weeks we had lived together, and she told me about all (ehm, all sounds a lot - it was, of course, not) her boys. i just listened and did not even think about sharing my secrets.

minute 71 of this sweet comedy, and we are laughing on her bed, i pull a rose from my hair i picked up on todays walk and say: here we are, in your bed, finally, after three months! we break into hard laugh again, bringing tears into our eyes.

you know what? i took a screenshot of that picture of him i found online and saved it in my library, i say from nowhere. she knows my stories already and i say whatever bothers me, the smallest thing, the biggest man, or the least important thing right now.

~~but i started about the picture, or the man on it: after he took what only one man can take from you and kissed my lips one more time, since that night i have not seen him. first he left to military, then i left, and no social network search has ever generated his name. pity. until i randomly found it. its him! maybe a few extra wrinkles around his eyes, holding a wedding bouquet, polished shoes, white bow tie, dark suit, slight - even almost sarcastic - smile. so, i took a screen shot, put it in my picture library.

- k., seriously, tomorrow its three months already weve been here!

- i know, we clicked so well! even with my best girlfriend we could not spend so much time together!

i jump to her bed again. feeling nostalgic. he got married - good for him!

chamomile

zabka, what are you doing?! shes yelling at me from the other room - she just woke up at like half past three - even thou we promised ourselves that we will start studying sharp from nine. 

sitting on my bed and drinking tea, i scream back.

what? i cant hear you, i have cotton balls in my ears.

i smile and enjoy the moment. its late afternoon; i have not walked out from the flat since last night; i know its sunny only because i checked out the sky from our indoor patio. uncountable amount of used paper with mathematical equations, formulas, propositions, lemmas, proofs, and examples surround my body while i take a two minute nap with a highlighter in my hand. 

i have a sip from that chamomile tea and smile again. i think i love him.

simply have to pray

with tears in my eyes, i say half aloud, what if he doesnt?

c'mon, there is no guy who deserves your baby face, she tells me from behind the window, smoking todays last cigarette. 

and someone sings

we simply have to pray

you can taste it

they turned the radiators on on sunday, middle of november. i was helplessly just sitting in the dark room with a big window that gives no light, but you immediately  know when the neighbors are having fun smoking pot - for breakfast, lunch, dinner, before going to sleep and sometimes even between - the window wants me to be relaxed with the rest of them. the central heating started working, and i said: yes!, sent an instant message to my roommate chilling in the next room, and told my parents that finally, even thou its still around twenties outside, finally, we have some hot object in our house. my family cheered, maybe they even opened a bottle of champagne - but since, the radiators did not start again.

morning coffee i make extra hot, warm the milk and make it nice with foam. i walk wrapped in my blue blanket, and then, if nothing else helps, i take a hot shower, standing there - water is up to my ankles - there is nobody to fix the drain. i tried, with a knife and a fork, but unsuccessfully. my red, very red toes shine through bubbles water makes when it touches the surface, my skin gets pinker, and i say 'good we have no man to fix our drain; we, at least, have our ankles in warm water'.

and i remind myself that otherwise, life is good. she utubes tengo la camisa negra again, and i open my iphoto one more time; look at that picture i took, close it up, and try to figure out what they eat, what they say, where they go. my mind, my soul is so cold, fucking spain, i say.

rational preferences

i saw him first. he was smiling, his eyes looking for me. hair a bit longer, that jacket i knew from the pictures, hands in the pockets. just a light kiss not knowing what to expect, but one thing i did not expect for sure: that i would realize what i loved about him so much. something that disappears after some time not being together. it was almost rainy and a bit cold. gray everywhere. almost everywhere.

i caught myself watching his moves, little habits, the way he pronounced some words, and questioned if that is what i can handle. 

i looked for that little something in his eyes. not sure if it was there.

it was sunny in the morning. i made tea and coffee with no milk. omelet, he went to get bread.

now i want to forget rational reasoning and be a girl again. not sure if it is still possible.

choices made

school is making us alcoholics, she states - maybe waiting for me to negate, maybe just because, and hands me a glass of spanish red. 

we walk for half an hour, me carrying this chocolate-pineapple cake i just made and trying to find their flat on my little map drawing with the address and street names only i can read. when we get there, we get to experience an italian way of making veggies, french one to fry goat cheese, and after the first bottle, we start - of course - about men in our lives. eventually, eyes stay on me asking how slovakia was. 

was good. i met with my friends, fam, i just stayed in bratislava longer than expected. i dont want to go further, cause i dont know how to name him, what to say, what to think myself. but, yes, a question follows: why? i just shake my shoulders, tell them about his mom, our story that dates back to the time when i was young and stupid - more young and more stupid than i am now. they understand, have no suggestions, we do not need to discuss further. 

why do you care about him so much and why do you get upset when he doesnt write? she asks when we get home. 

because he will father my kids, one day

You and Déjà vu

We said a bye to each other through an email. I didn’t trust him – well, I didn’t because he was a liar. I might believe in everything you say until it starts not making sense. Because I am a woman, so I remember details. All details. Your bday, your breakfast, your dreams, your family problems, your favorite song or if you drink tea with sugar.

So that’s how it ended, and I forgot, not too hearth-broken, not too upset, with no regrets.

The last day in Chicago, I pulled over; waiting for a friend to come back since she forgot her camera in a gift bag with a tiny Kafka book. The last one in my collection – I mean: Kafka collection. And here he is, passing by on a blue bike, in a red outfit – I can see him in a rear-view mirror. My heart was pumping so fast - maybe it was because I didn’t want him to see me, maybe because a thought crossed my mind to open the door when he gets next to me and knock him on his knees, kick him and say here, you bitch. Anyway, no… ehm, yes, anyway, I just looked out of the window and saw a little body dressed in red, shrinking into an unclear picture.

Then I realize I stopped missing him. Not that red dot, not j. and his dog, not… I do not miss a boy that I believed was perfect for me, as I was for him. I still think of him sometimes, of course.

Pictures are so amazing! I have never seen you so sexy. Are you in love? Updates! She emails, and it makes me think: am I? Am I in love? Is that why?

Why I don’t miss you? Why I am not heartbroken? Why nothing makes sense and I am so comfortably lost in sigma algebras and extended real lines?

I am thinking of all my déjà-vu-s. The boys that were like one.  And then the boys I felt right about. Like this one.

tango tonight

watching them leave, he smiles one more time and says that tomorrow, he is coming to taste that pastry that is still in the process of my making. i lock the door feeling tired. we make progress on talking - there are no stupid quiet moments no more - i thought one cant fix if the second or third time alone theres noting to say - and i am truly enjoying this friendship first way. but after getting accustomed to a quick, american, dating - i feel its too long before the first kiss. hm... or... nah, no time for over-thinking.

come with us, a tango concert, just a few minutes walking, italians say. i agree, dont know why - i thought i had grown up from that nodding-to-everything age. the music is nice; i sit in the front row, falling asleep. only the couple that shows off their choreography in the middle wakes me up - i am quite scared that her heels will smash my feet. my thoughts are heading different way - i have to hang the laundry when i get home, finish the dishes, and take a hot shower. hot showers are pleasurable. i have no time for putting panties on, the sleep is quick, the rain strong and calming.

i dream about the next, argentinean, tango concert - discounted especially for me and my date - i got a flier for when leaving.

chosen

Enjoying him being comfortable to the point I can ask almost any question, I find out about that hot Puerto-Rican girl, S., that changed her school preference and all boys, of course -him being a Russian- just the Spanish ones, were so upset. You know, it’s not too many girls in the program!

S. was not hot at all, I keep thinking. Hm. Quite strange preferences these boys have.

And then, it occurs to me, looking around, who the hot girl boys were so excited about is in our year. ??

Men also have feelings… hunger, for example…

I don’t know who made such statement, but I am praising her for being this clever – I have him over, watching me folding little pieces of dough with potato filling. He eats everything I cook, prepare, or take out of the freezer – well, in fact, our friendship is based on me cooking - him eating. I really like to see that pleasure expression in his eyes.  Finishing the second bottle of red – since it is more comfy than movies in our plan A - - ~~

~~

Where was I?  Oh yes, the second bottle is finished when everyone walks in: the flat is suddenly full of lively conversations – it’s too early to go to sleep for Spain anyway. So, we walk out to finish up a small talk. Kisses on the cheeks are a must, so is uncertainty, rationality, and preference relations. That econ is getting over my poor little brain!

changing

I used to be that person who never asks for help: a strong woman who is more successful than men on her level, colder than men who she dates, a better driver than men she knows; more interested in politics than boys her age and even beyond, and not cutting the grass only because she consider herself a lady. I am thrown into a world of equations and unimaginable spaces. Within days, im loosing the ground under my feet; I am not sure if heaven exists - not sure about anything anymore.

He likes you, my roommate says. He wouldn’t be helping you for these long hours if he didn’t.

Really? i pretend being surprised.

 (At least these are the skills I can use from my past life.)

Window into others’ lives

The alley stays dark until midday when the sun finally reaches a narrow opening between buildings. I wake up at eight, thinking it might be as well three in the morning or even noon. Who knows? The sounds from other windows say otherwise. Washing machine finishing its spinning cycle, classical music from the flat on the second level, a child demanding attention through a loud cry, they all say otherwise: it’s eight, it’s for sure eight in the morning.

I’m the first to wake up in our kitchen, making it smell like coffee and a toast with marmalade. Barefoot, on my tiptoes, I have my breakfast in the bed, thinking about others’ lives only to forget mine.  

The same old, same old

I can show you around! he says with his strong Spanish accent. Deal! I smile and get on the bus. It’s a dark night, middle of the week – I guess that’s how a student life looks like. All I can think of is getting to the bed.

Saturday morning, it is too early for this city. Walking by the restaurants with empty tables, I wonder when they will fill up with talks and laughs. These few strangers passing by keep looking straight into my eyes, wondering what they can find in them, and then they say Hola and call me Senorita. I smile watching newsstands filling up their shelves with weekend editions. On the walkways, wind mixes leaves with plastic bags; the air gets hotter just when I wait for the traffic light to change. I stare, unknowingly, on the glass windows since they seem to be the only stop sign for me to touch their most beautiful wedding dress. 

When waiting on the main square, I am sure he is already here, looking for me. Churches, architecture, parks, beach, and drinks, he ensures meeting me tomorrow offering to run with me. He is smart, charming, funny, and I am not interested. 

The first touch

Getting out of the taxi, dragging all that heavy luggage - more than airlines permit nowadays and more than woman can carry – but with all the necessities, I am dragging it upstairs, following a little Russian girl into a flat of strangers. Dinner, anyone? I ask considering this male inhabitants’ fridge’s supplies.  When I am leaving after making dinners every night, he, to my surprise, asks, in this formal manner that I know is not just for politeness anymore, who will cook dinner for him now.

I touch his shoulder, but I touch people.

I come over today and tomorrow again, because I need to connect with my family.

I invite him for the beach – wanna go with us?

He smiles with his eyes when I’m there – I know. He’s just too young to know that I know. He’s too young to understand that I understand what he is going through with a girlfriend miles away. I can’t help it – such amazing genetic material!

So I take a break, make him miss me, make him rethink his priorities, invent some old strategies, fight for me. He’s looked through whole econ department, I’m sure, just to see me. But, at the end, I am the one who realizes how much I want to talk to him today. And tomorrow, day after tomorrow…

 

goose bumps

one of the last days - last for too many periods and events - i get up in the morning feeling... good. just good. enjoying my vacation, having time for long breakfast, letting the breeze - fresh, warm, summer breeze - touch my face. goose bumps grow on my arms, breast, and neck. like when a man i like kisses my nape. then, i have this strong desire to... live.

all goes good. besides catching cold in paris, it goes well. in barcelona, summer is not over, so are not the chances for goose bumps. from a morning breeze, of course.

i want out

looking into the rearview mirror, i feel like they are chasing me. it makes me quite calm, this feeling of all cars behind me, like horses on a horse race. i make up different allegories, different stories, i think about different people - so i do not have time to question my behavior.

i want to get out! out of this crazy cycle of attraction games. im screaming, screaming so loud that nobody can hear me. and girls mention: you kinda date a lot of guys. where do you meet them? how should i know? where are you from, boy? how did we meet? remind me, whats your bday; how many brothers youve got? --- ive always been proud of remembering these details. 

oh, baby, i want a back yard big like this and then ill tell you: hey, go, cook something, grill! and youll make me a burger.

well... okay. i cut on calling him

its late at night, or, rather, early in the morning. i walk out - because good girls always come home. rain is pouring, i look over my shoulder - it might look sexy, right? youve gotta run, he says. taking heels off, i catch all the raindrops, warm like summer, streets empty and sidewalks calling my real name, happy, they say, just happy

carpe diem

there is nothing better than this moment. summery. rainy. slow. or dynamic. it will not get better.

 

so much ice cream that my belly cant take it no more.

skinny dipping nights, we name ourselves fireflies - our butts flashing in the dark.

free concerts in millennium park - boys trying to teach me tango.

getting hundreds on calculus tests. i love being the best.

dreaming. big and real. 

a new boy. im so tired of making effort, so i dont. i text that i wont come; i email that i will not call tonite. i hope for him not to develop any feelings, but when he holds the door of the car for too long saying too little, i know it is quite late. im leaving, i say. but you are coming back, he answers.

whatever. seize the day.

can you?

closing all the windows, all the doors. i wont let any breeze in, no movement, no change, nothing unexpected. my chest is moving: up and down, or down and up - depends on when you start looking. maybe there are more things moving - the ones i cannot see. or comprehend. radio waves, signals, thoughts... who knows - who can comprehend? 

do you still give good massages? i asked him if he wanted to meet up one more time before im gone. not that he would miss me; not that he misses me now - because, well, lets be honest: he has not attempted to contact me for over a year until recently. and, the question that follows my question is if i give good massages. still. like: can you forget such a thing?

i smile. he wants to forget me; wants to promise himself that he will not, ever, think of me again - but has no reason not to. so he asks if i give good massages. sissy. 

i do give good massages. i practiced the other day. he is leaving to thailand, and that makes me... kinda indifferent. it would make me sad, because he is the one i really, but really-really liked from all these creatures called males, but it really makes me indifferent, because i know that he will think of me. i dont wanna acknowledge id miss him. so i dont. i really really liked him thou.

drinks, miss, finally?, the boy takes me to this classy and very fancy bar. we make out in the bathrooms. the next day i have an urge to email him, but i dont. in fact, i have nothing to say. he will get with me when he is ready. when he is... ready. they all are such sissies! 

heh.

makes my chest rise. up and down, down and up. in electric and magnetic waves, in beams and signals, in the thought flow i cannot really comprehend. who could?

dotyky

viem, ze sa mu tieto budu pacit. viazem si maslu na letnych easy-breezy satockach pod ktore nemusim takmer nic. pavucinkove sandaliky, prirodzene kucery a na pery jahodovu vonu. 

usmeje sa a ja znova zistim, ako velmi a preco ma tak velmi pritahuje. zabudam najst tu najmensiu chybicku, vyhovorku preco by to neslo.

nepriblizim sa celucicky film, on urobi to iste. chvilu sa mu chcem opriet o rameno, druhu chvilu polozit sa mu do lona, poskrabkat ho po chrbte, prejst mu vlasmi. dotknut sa ho. jeho ruk, pier, opalenej pokozky. a potom vnutra, niektorych myslienok, krajceka srdca. viete, dotknut sa ho.

natiahnem sandaliky na nohy, musim bezat a on vravi, ze mozno mozem este par minut ostat. neviem ci mozem... asi mozem.... vravia moje bozky. o par minut sepka, ze nemoze on. vlozim sa mu do lona, pytam sa, rozumiem, rozstrapatim mu vlasy, zavriem dvere. ma druhy zivot. nepatrim don.

mam na perach jemny usmev. uz nevonaju jahodami, vonaju nim, vonaju letom, vonaju dotykmi a najprv si myslim, ze ziadnou bolestou, ale potom, potom povedia na dvojke:

if you leave me now, youll take away the biggest part of me~~~ uh uh uh uuuuh oh no baby please dont go

a takto sa ma lahucko dotkne aj to ostatne

summery about grown-up girls

we spread a blanket so close to the sidewalk that people excuse themselves for jumping over my feet. i pour chardonnay into plastic wine glasses; the bottle is gone before the concert starts. amazing cubans sing - buena vista social club, and we dance empowered by the connections weve created for past few months.

- are you not attracted to him?

- no, thats not the point! i do not date him because i am not attracted. but... i am not!  

- it is a big part thou, attraction...

~~~

- speaking of attraction, i say later, i look at the guy thinking that i dont want a redhead baby!

- mee tooo! she opens her eyes widely. we laugh and finish the wine.

late in night, it is ice cream time. cones are so big and so full of chocolate that i have ice cream everywhere - shirt, cheeks, fingers. 

- here, try the strawberry one

- hmmm - the chocolate chip mint is amazing!

covered with the blanket, dreaming aloud on the train, opening up about memories that were to stay inside for ever

yes, its been a great night!

sundays

sometimes i wonder if i would be able to handle something unplanned. i wonder if there will be time in my life when i will really take things easy.

these woods are the calmest thing in the world. nothing to compare - just get lost somewhere, smile and laugh, talk to yourself, stop when you feel like resting, jump when you feel like moving, run when you do not need to, and lay down, undress, tan every piece of your skin. im imagining how the rain rinses these leaves - in a slow motion, it kisses whole surface, little drops wait for the rest, and fall down quietly breaking up on the black asphalt. free falling. nobody notices.

its all good. i like free falling. the one that is nicely planned - from the time the first drop touches the surface until the weight of all makes them to say bye.

(cant wait to see him again - i know, i should make myself not want him. it would be easier on us.

i dont want to destroy your beautiful young life, he said

by not wanting to get into my life, he did - oh he did)

transition time

-hey baby! im flying to stockholm. be back in a week. wanna see you then!

reading the message, i raise my eyebrows - why should it matter to me? with or without you...

-okay. be a good boy!

-oh no. you wouldnt want me to be a good boy

true. im not interested in good boys. 

-coffee, miss? no, ehm... cubs game? biking? and, what about getting ice cream?

-damn, i kinda have my own life!

-oh i do too, but i am making some time for you 

~~~i stay silent. no need to add to it~~~ he just doesnt get that a 'no' is the no.  

i feel the shadow of the roof on my legs. the sun is coming down fast. the air reminds me of the summer breeze back home - filled with this cigarette smoke that smells different when its hot. im thinking about closing my eyes, just for a second - until whole my body is covered with the dusk. but, i manage to keep reading. 

~~~

stuffy, humid, sticky, heavy air. the sweat drops pop out right under my feather hair around the face, under my lower lip, my bra is soaking wet. i wonder which part of my body doesnt sweat. 

dressed up for the fashion show, i have to survive walking a good amount of blocks. im thinking that heels are not human, but i know it is good to be noticed. good to know i am still here. i do not care who notices, who slows down, who waves. it makes me feel im here, right here.

i get a glass of pink lemonade, lock myself in the washroom, take the shoes off, rest on the toilet. just now i get a chance to look at the high ceilings and classical details in a need of renovation. i walk the rooms one by one discovering old paintings and rusty surgical knifes. makes me feel like a child who found out about forgotten under a grandmothers roof. 

what? fashion show?? oh, fashion show!! its almost over. good.

~~~

im thinking of you, he emails. yes, and i am glad i am moving out soon. he is older than my dad. i know he enjoys having this young chick with him - and i like listening to his stories, but i have no time for being this platonic. honestly - a thought crossed my mind: no, i would not bear a child for him. 

and, the time flies by. i open the calculus textbook, start on the repetitious integrations. at the end, i feel the best with the girls - knowing they will not try to date me, fall in love, or attempt to sleep with me. having a date with them tomorrow - going to the beach, movies, and dinner.

its time to leave this place. it is about the time

blast

lacking hours of sleep, we walk in the sunshine, taking photos, talking girly language. we always find time to meet - touching velvet jackets, complimenting new dresses, walking barefoot when heels get overwhelming. they call us sex and the city girls, a younger version. i like it as much as i like getting into intellectual debates. but, thats not the point. not now.

i let the breeze play with my sweaty hair. someone makes a wish for all weekends to be this long. i let this idea go thinking that all weve done was party - lots of dancing, drinking and sobering up, talking to the strangers, being the craziest group every place we entered, attracting all the attention. breakfast after sunrise - after all bars close - and the excitement from being together like this would wear out - so i let the idea of long weekends go. 

m. kisses my hair, then my forehead. it is so different than the passion of the last night. i let the idea of possible dating go. 

the after-rain breeze plays with my hair, dries his forehead. i let all these ideas go, say bye to my sex-and-the-city co-stars, and head home to get some good amount of sleep. 

i will find a match for you

out with girls. im holding her hand - pretty successful way how to keep all drunks or too-much-confidence guys out of the way. it has become annoying. decided to leave, i bump into a former employee of mine. tall, handsome, dark. she likes these types of boys, i know. they contrast with her blond hair, pretty face, model-like body. 

kisses on the cheeks, we get closer than the manager-employee relationship has ever allowed us. 

-did you sleep with him? she surprises me

-no.

-you never dated him? 

-no. he worked under me! 

-then you should. hes hot

-eh, im leaving anyway. ill give you a contact on him thou!

-i dont chase guys

im writing a message to him - how much she liked him - i like the idea of making people happy. 

"shes cute, but youre FINE"

and, my match finding efforts were over

men-izer

walking in, i pass by a group of smokers. i see their heads turning my way in the reflection of the glass door. hm. good to know guys like retro tops, jeans, heals, and red lips. i wouldnt guess, if you asked me.

he talks. A LOT. good. i do not need to say much - and, he is doing good, quite funny. dangerously sweet martini, bar dinner, black-hawks game in the background. he sends a message hoping for my drive to be short. 

i walk in for a dinner. eyes stay at me for a little longer. good to find out men enjoy curly hair, short dresses, cute sandals. 

i still need to learn a lot.

ponahlaj sa, maj, ponahlaj

no a co, ze bol prvy maj! ceresne uz aj tak odkvitli. 

vsetko je fajn. dni by sa mali trosku viac poponahlat, tesim sa na septembrove noci v parizi a jar v barcelone. predstavujem si cestu napriec ruskom a dobrodruzstva v letnej cine. moje ciele su hmotnejsie, uz si ich len odfukujem ako oblaciky. nech este pockaju chvilocku, je maj, nech sa len ponahla, hes, hes.

vychutnavam si kazdu minutu chicaga. prechadzky mestom, hustu hmlu, slnecne popoludnia, nocne blues v malinkom podniku. chlapcov, ktori mi ukazu, co ich nadchyna, kde su najradsej. ukazu mi kusok svojho sveta. skvele jedlo, sladke martini, labutie jazera, vystavy moderneho umenia. pobozkame sa, slubim, ze sa zanedlho stretneme. viac slubit nemozem.

chcela by som tu nechat srdce, a potom sa pon vratit. tak velmi by som chcela. 

bozkavacky na chodniku, menia sa svetla. cervena, zelena, ojedineli chodci, preficia vlaky, tulipany odkvitaju, aj z ceresni uz odfuklo lupene. pada hmla.

a ja ti viac slubit nemozem.

musim bezat

remember me

this new boy i just met talks about thai food. i smile, forcing myself to share his enthusiasm. sorry, someone created an emotional connection to thai food in my brain before you. and, its too fresh to just smile when recalling. 

i have millions of emotional connections

please, 

do not have a water bed

please, do not dance with me on its my life remix version

oh, and dont have anything to do with intellectual property

really? you have an english bulldog?

this little wine bar is not the best place to meet 

i cant go to ikea with you

or... taking a walk in three feet of snow is not a good idea

then you wonder whats happened to me... nothing, us -women-, most likely, say.

its just...

you will be a part of my life

i remember you

schizophrenic

alleys filled with that smell of spring - early blossom is on the ground after a light evening rain. occasionally, a car or two pass by. in the soft lights of chicagos evening color, i recognize church, gardens, and porches, briefly check what people do behind their bedroom window.

popcorn? he asks. then he looks up a movie, touches my legs. i have a bottle of wine in my purse, but i dont wanna mention. plenty things to rediscover, damn the wine.

i feel like he is my first love, not able to look straight into his eyes, my confidence is long gone, nothing i know or have done matters anymore. yes, feels like the first love. the first lover.

we share a pillow and a blanket, but dream separately. i cant tell what the reality is anymore.

come and go

we met in a restaurant. friends of a friend. four girls, four boys, all different parts of the world. we stayed till they closed, moved from bar to bar, paying for shots, singing, dancing wherever it was possible. he took care of me: kept the conversation, protected me from boys, walked me to the car. and kissed a good bye. 

first date goes well, second does too. 

then i find out he is getting married. 

loosing the grip

 i wanted to fight!

look for daises, count the stars, water the plants on my window desk. i didnt need a lot - or, at least, i always tend to believe that. just so you let me bring you daises, correct me when i miscount, water them when i forget. tell me how you feel.

as always, the dedication to become happy flew away. its maybe somewhere in asia now, maybe japan, or -possibly- its a step closer to the moon. i stay at work for longer than i should - the numbers, the results, dependency people created on me - that makes me feel good. it makes me feel not alone.

everything was ready for the fight. weapons, mostly the female ones, logistics, soldiers. last minute, im giving up. leaving. running away. very far away. maybe japan, maybe even the moon. 

connectivity

i love touching people...

i noticed :)...

there is a need to continue our conversation, we just moved from a real setting into an online one. always something to say, to ask, to discover. serious things are left for times with a glass of wine, simple dreams can be shared and stored in my organized mailbox.

i am thinking that i have never felt so attracted to a man. never tried kissing such little lips. never dated anyone with a baby son. 

touching is nice. connects me 

move-on. and on

i uncovered his secrets. he would not admit that i was right and kept making up stories. 

~good bye~~

saturday night, the first date with a guy i felt very attracted to. after half an hour and a glass of wine, im leaving that place - thinking we misunderstood each other. later, we find out that he was sitting by the bar, did not notice me walking in. he is shy when we say bye after hours of talking. kisses my cheek very briefly. 

i melt. next time im posting something, i might be entirely melted 

background check

im doing a very detailed back-ground check on him. true, i could ask, but i want to know about things he wouldnt tell me. i want to know every fact google can find. 

it just doesnt seem right. everything perfect. he comforts me about his feelings, has an answer to all my questions; this mr. perfect say he shoots for NG, flies to africa like every other week. everything seems to fit in, just... that feeling wont go away...

too bad he has such common name

i like it simple

this is the minute to talk about past few days. we exchange basic information and feelings and sketch our plans for next few days -  necessities of our unreal relationship. i thought you would not come... i thought you would play unreachable, he says. you should, he smiles.

for a moment, i didnt know what to answer. but not with me, he adds instantly raising his eyebrows. i do what i feel is right, no games, i try to rationalize my behavior. why would this forever-single man want a kitty to play with him?!

leaving ten minutes to eleven. im flying above all this, all our quiet, electrifying moments, above the feelings, needs, and desires. the touches provide me with happiness, but no satisfaction. kisses say too much, but have no meaning. i know goosebumps are highly temporary. like snow in april, like sunny morning, like falling in love on saturday night.

i just like it simple. no games, no pressure, no future. with him

its complicated

people hide behind words. its complicated, supposably.

no... it really is not.

like take myself, for example: simple. so simple. i should choose one, because thats how the society approves it. but, im kinda enjoying both. simple: i dont want to pick, so i wont until i must. or lose them both.

what happens in new orleans, stays in new orleans

they are stopping us, asking if we are looking for some more beads. j. and i smile; no is the answer. too cold to show our breasts, and, potentially, i wanna go to politics! yeah, yeah, you got me, im also too shy for it.

bourbon street is overfilled with people. they just won the super bowl, who-dat is the slogan. we chat with randoms, we laugh and dance on the streets. it j.'s bday; shes a few years older than me. who cares, that doesnt stop us from starting this big outdoor dancing party - for sure the only one in whole new orleans. people stop by, we dance with them, make them feel comfortable. it works out great, and j. says its her best bday ever.

its 3am. music slowly disappears from open bar windows. im hiding under the arm of a boy from arkansas, j.'s walking with a dark-skinned alabama bunny. she is as excited as if this was her first time kisser. we stay in a little bar - her keeping the small talk with the boy, me dancing... dancing with mine. time to go, i say. frequent stops we make when the boys walk us to find a taxi make the morning come faster. 

i had one quick thought about the post-valentine dinner im taken to today. im not gonna hurt him, promise. what happened there, stayed there.

a mini break

sorry writing,

youve gotta share my free time with other passions. 

yours truly

zabka

tam a vtedy

sedim na vyhriatom muriku a lizem zmrzku. okolo sa premavaju auta. smeruju k plazi alebo od plaze. v montevideu je skoro koniec leta. prijemny koniec. medzi mnou a autami sa premavaju aj ludia. mozno je ich viac ako aut, neviem, mozno. niektori na mna hladia, niektori hladia na moju zmrzlinu, niektori hladia do seba. ja na nich nehladim. vsimam si len ich topanky. vlastne, ani nelizem zmrzlinu, len ju vytahujem ohybnym plastovym plieskom z plastoveho teglika.

zda sa mi, ze nikam nepatrim. ze ani nikam nechcem patrit, ked uz teraz viem, o com to je. chybaju mi veci, ktore by mi vobec chybat nemuseli. alebo teda nesmeli - vsak sa uz nevratia. chybaju mi letne prazdniny a kopy sena v stodole. a slnko na konci leta, prijemne, dedinske, vyhrievajuce muriky. chybaju mi ludia, ktori by ma nikdy nesklamali.

zmrzlina je prilis sladka. plieskom natahujem karamel. vobec mi nechuti. ani nechce

summer with no spring

all of them, at the same time. this boy is begging for things to be as they were before, j. texts that we should meet, and this kenyain sweetie kisses me when i drop him off. no, thanks, i will pass a view from the 36th you have up there. ive gotta go. this kiss was stunning thou. we talk easy. i let him feel confident. he shouldnt.

jumping right into the tropical air, i suddenly feel all the energy attacking me. counting the uneven tiles on the rios sidewalks, feeling a light, hot breeze, pumping the overfilled strees into my veins, holding his hand - the only touch weve allowed ourself to make - it feels great. he spends money, i save it. he chooses taxi, i wanna take the bus. he wants to see rich, i love the poor. hes carelessly rude, im overpolite. he decides, i plan.

falling asleep during the rain, thunders, lightening, with an open window behind the iron bars, smile on my face. fa-lling as-leep

then having this kinda strong suger-limets-vodka mix, i know its not the time

he would feel very constrained by me. so, we hold our hands, then fingers, then hands.

welcome back, mr. stupid

when he was leaving just hours before christmas, messaging me that he just bought the ticket and his flight was scheduled for ten pm that night, i did not ask when he was coming back. yes, i wanted, but i didnt. lifting my chin up, i was too proud to be interested. he said that it was alright if i met someone during this time he was gone. it was alright, how generous! yes, he actually meant it was alright for him.

i got a text today. he had so much fun; he is so glad he went!

good, im happy for you

id like to see you... come

:) what an idiot 

good. for now

feels good to be sitting here, in panties and a shirt, with this irreplaceable feeling that there are papillions moments left. moments like this one. calm. present. purposeful. relaxing. in panties and a shirt.

looking for what i want, or, better, how i want it, has given me strength to refuse dates, ski trips, or bar hopping. i just ordered catch 22 and hope it will come before i get on the plane. have never read heller in english. cant wait to do it now! if not, ill take the german version of america and will pretend everything is crystal clear to me.

(i just turned down two guys asking me for a date for months. they could not understand how come i know i would never fall in if i dont even wanna try. no, i didnt say i wasnt attracted - it doesnt make any difference anyway. call me shallow, i dont care)

i actually like this silence. no txts, no calls, and if there are any, i pretend i left my phone at the north pole. im making plans about future and its magical. i paint, i clean, i organize, read every column in the paper, and watch the newest movies online. i am alone. must feel right.

if it did feel right, it would be wrong. we dont want that. 

minuleho roka

pripijame si od tretej. nech to uz teda oslavime, ako sa patri. moje telo mi pripada dokonale, ked na seba hladim pred sprchou o par hodin na to.

zarovno s chlapcami do seba vlievam stamprle. netrva mi to dlho - smerujem do postele, aspon na par minut. 

vianocne predsavzatie - na chlapa anilen nepozriem aspon rok - mi vydrzalo aspon tyzden. vtiska mi bozky a ja sepkam, ze mam vypite. 

vstavam, odpocitam poslednu minutu, sampanske v plastikovom pohariku mi nadvihuje zaludok. kazdeho objimem, aj jeho. uz na seba nepozrieme.