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Monday, 17 November 2014

MY TAKE ON A "ZOMBIE" APOCALYPSE, kind of

Soсially developed common sense tells us drinking is ok when things go right - we call it celebrating.
When things go wrong you drink and call it mourning.
Drinking a couple of "Zombies" when things don't go anywhere leaves you kind of lost at the amount of possible ways to be looking at it.
I've started reaching for a drink to have fun with my friends instead of meaningful conversations, to laugh at the smallest stuff instead of opening up about "what's stopping me" or "tearing me apart", and the awful part of it is that I know they do the same. Important stuff is so rarely spoken about, though I never found it difficult. When did it start being difficult? When did hushing things up become a norm among friends? I seem to have missed the moment when we became so apathetic when it comes to real shit. And real shit has actually come over the course of the last year and a half.
The point I'm trying to make is... I guess, I shouldn't drink zombie cocktails, or hell knows what.
girl with a mojito cocktail
a parody of a mojito serving me company last summer

Saturday, 18 October 2014

I SHOULD READ MORE

I know it may not have been the best idea of mine to write blog posts in English, as my mother tongue is Russian and I've only spent like the last 13 years learning English and consuming the British/American media of any kind.
Ok, I get it, it shouldn't be much of an issue after all these years of solid studies, but there is still some level of insecurity when I switch the language on my keyboard and start filling a blank page with words. Half of the problem is in the lack of practice, and by practice I mean actual conversation with English-speaking fellas (calling on you here).
And the other half... well, I know I should read more.
I have an odd relationship with books. On the one hand, it takes too much focus (just so you know, I can barely finish a two-line tweet without switching on to the next one). And on the other hand, books have a tendency to have an ending. And if, only if  I manage to stay focused to read a single paragraph full of nicely placed words, boy will I read. I will read the crap out of what I happen to put my eyes on. It's an everlasting dilemma: never find a thing worth reading or lose yourself in the sea of words, bringing your social life to extinction.
(I might have done so when I read The Fault in Our Stars, can't judge me.)
I have an odd relationship with books
I have an odd relationship with books
Fashion Now book and glasses
Audrey Hepburn's autobiography
Audrey Hepburn's autobiography


RULE #1

That moment when you meet someone so in love with what they do and so alive when doing it, and you stand there looking into their sparkling eyes and promise to yourself that one day you'll be just as secure with your purpose in life as they are. Sort of a promise I'm unable to keep.
I've never been quite sure of who I am or should be. In my very first post I mentioned an overambitious idea of a new life, which is, well... impossible, but still there, demanding attention, at the back of my mind. And I would mimic other people, change my hair and style, take on new hobbies and try to be someone I simply could not be. When I realized mimicking others doesn't make me different, I thought that maybe I just wasn't ready yet  but one day I will be ready and I will change, I just need to wait for the moment to come. Which, well... never does.
And now I am 22.
And I want to be 16, and I want my 16 year old self to be different. I want to be an overambitious kid in funky clothes and with the widest grin on her face, in a group of no-brainer teenagers galavanting around town singing the most stupid songs guessing the lyrics along the way,  just because I never was one of those kids, and I'll never be 16 again, and I'll never be blatantly happy in my teens. And I wish I could have been different.
The first rule here is not to regret what happened in the past. But boy do I regret spending my childhood and teenage years desperately trying to solve an insoluble task of being someone else. I wish I could just let myself be me and get on with it.
So there, I just said it
You know that admitting the problem is the first step
Towards repair, "We all recover"
All Time Low  Canals

mirror black and white photograph

Tuesday, 16 September 2014

HABITS. NO PROMISES

As much as I love making promises I hate making promises. Let me explain.
I can't quite remember when it went wrong, but one day I caught myself making one of those everyday promises, as simple as "see you tomorrow", and I knew at the back of my mind... that it wouldn't happen. The previous time I said that phrase shit happened and I couldn't see that person the next day. Either I got stuck in a horrible traffic jam or just plain overslept, but the point is - I broke the "promise". Ok, it does sound dumb but when I say "sure, I'll be there" or "I've got a ton of time today, I'll do it, don't worry" - I won't. It's got to a point when my friends stop me in the middle of "see you..." because they know I suck at keeping the most stupid promises and the simplest everyday situations are ruined due to Morphy's law or whatever you call it.
Now, taught by bitter experience, the only thing I can promise without fear of shit happening is that shit WILL happen. Not pessimistic, I've just learnt to take it for the fact and live my life accordingly.
But why am I telling you all this? Oh, because I'll be running this series of posts where I share my habits, whether good or bad, and dwell on them in a matter of a page.

red planner notebook on the table
pages of an open notebook

HOME APPRECIATION

When I say home, I don't just mean the flat where I live, sleep, cook and get lost/found on the internets. My home town is my Home. I've spent 22 years here and boy did it drive me mad sometimes! Our relationship hasn't been perfect, there are certain bumps on the road... seriously, it's dangerous to wear heels here. But at the same time, it's so small and peaceful that it wouldn't care if I went for a walk in my pj's (it's still on my bucket list). Can I say I love it? With age - c'mon, 22 is a real number - I've come to realize my home town has given me all I need to become who I want to be... Still going there, but you get the point.
So here you have an opportunity to see my home town the way I see it when I bother to notice the beauty around me - which I highly recommend doing more often than we're used to. Next time you go out take a moment to actually see where you are. It is your home, so you better appreciate it.

small town buildings
window plants
small town buildings sky
lake and nature