April, 29 - Second time around

I'm ashamed. I'm really ashamed.
But it's been such a mental month, that... oh, well, here I am.

Tell us about a book you can read again and again without getting bored — what is it that speaks to you?

I'm an English Language and Literature Department graduate, and that means that I once had to read at least half of all books that make those popular "Books you should read before you die" lists. That still causes me problems as it is enormously difficult at times for me to find a great book that would keep me glued to its pages from the beginning till the very end.

However, when I come to think of the books that somehow shifted my conscience, made me think in the full sense of the word, there's one that springs to my mind at once.

It is "Fight Club" by Chuck Palaniuk.

I don't really feel like giving a summary here, for one reason, I'm not good at it, for another, it hardly makes sense. What is more, I don't support the philosophy of the so-called "self-destruction", I'm a rather "self-creation" type.

And still...

There are those moments in life when you would like to see everything around you burning, crashing, disappearing, falling into pieces because you feel so much the same inside.

There are those moments you wish you had your own Tyler who would teach you how to live, maybe not the right way, but the only possible one in everything that surrounds you.

There are those moments indeed when you realize the beauty in some things and characters who, under other circumstances, you would call disgusting.

So far that is one of the few books from my reading list that I've truly never regretted reading.

March, 21 - Bedtime stories

What was your favorite book as a child? Did it influence the person you are now?

When I was young, I used to read a lot. And when I say "a lot", I really mean it. Sometimes I could pick up any book lying anywhere and just browse, look it through, smelling the yellow pages, and that was the time I discovered all books smell differently.

Not all of my discoveries were made at the proper time. For some reason, I liked a book about children, I mean, how to take care of and how to bring up a child. When I was about six or seven, I already knew what to do if you have two kids who are jealous of each other, and stuff like that.

But let's rewind a couple of years back.

When I think of a book that used to be the most precious to me, I remember "The Wizard of Oz". Actually, that's not exactly true. What I and other kids read, was more like "The Wizard of the Emerald City". Still, the plot was ridiculously alike. The main character Dorothy was Ellie, and all the other characters were pretty much the same.

I liked the book. I simply adored it. I draw pictures, played games with myself (I was Ellie, of course), and what is more, once my parents bought some kind of a radio version of the story (by the modern standards it could be called an audiobook). I knew all the songs by heart and I was never shy to sing them at any time.

Somehow I wonder if a small part of Ellie still lives in me.

After all, I once used to be a girl who didn't have any friends, let alone having a dog.

Nobody knows when exactly this little girl stepped on her yellow brick road full of dangers as well as adventures, and it is clear there's no one of these things without the other. She found her friends, one after another, and she was much happier than Ellie, because she now had more. Sometimes friends come and go, but she knows that even letting a friend be there where he needs it doesn't mean letting him go forever.

She still fights some evil witches, and sometimes things do not get smoothly, because not all of them are people. The main evil lives inside us, and it is the most difficult thing to overcome.

When I come to think of it, I know my yellow brick road is far from over, and strangely it's something that makes me glad.

And something else - I'm happy to know I have the best company in the world to make it through and the best place in the world I can always come back to. 

March, 1st - Back to the future

A service has been invented through which you can send messages to people in the future. To whom would you send something, and what would you write?

A.S. I've always been interested in the topic of a person meeting a version of his older or younger self.

And no, I wouldn't want to make something great or prevent something from happening on a global level. Everything in its time.

***

I closed the door and started descending down the ladder.
Feeling the heavy bag on my shoulder (somehow I felt I'd be sitting alone at school today, because my mate often fell ill, and now it was spring which only increased her chances), I reached the ground floor and, as usual, slipped my hand through the hole in the letterbox.

My fingers suddenly touched something, obviously, some kind of paper.

Might be some bills, I thought to myself.

Taking out and then staring at the blank envelope, I at once forgot about the fact I was actually almost late for the first class.

There was no address. Neither the sender, nor the receiver. In fact, there were even no lines where people usually write the name of the street or the city.

"Maybe it's a love letter", I couldn't help thinking. I wasn't really one of the popular girls at school, but, on the other hand, had a great deal of fantasy. And the fact that St.Valentine's had already passed didn't disturb me in the slightest.

It was actually an occasional look at the watch that suddenly disturbed me and returned back to reality. Without thinking, I put the mysterious envelope into the bag and hurried to school.

***

This day didn't bring me anything special, and I was still deep in my thoughts on the way home when I suddenly remembered about the strange letter.

The way home lay through a park, not exactly straight, but in a very convenient manner. Paying no attention to quite a chilly wind and the fact I wasn't wearing my hat, not even a cape, I sat on the edge of the bench and put out the thing.

The letter, or whatever there was, clearly wasn't long - the envelope was quite thin. But there was something that I didn't notice in the morning - it was opened. Not in the way that someone had already torn the rim, but it looked like the person who wrote the letter simply forgot to water a slightly sweet edge and close the envelope. Or maybe he or she just wasn't sure until the end that the paper was complete.

In the end, who said it was for me?

Somehow I knew it for sure. I took a deep breath, exhaled a string of steam and took out a carefully folded piece of paper.

Hi there, 

I'm still really not sure if I should do it, but the task demands, and I really want to complete it. 

You don't know me. Well, this might not be true, in fact, we know each other maybe even better than anyone else does. Let's put it this way, we'll surely meet in ten years or so. And when we meet, you won't even remember it was me who sent this letter. Cool, right? 

And if you haven't given up reading this, and somehow I'm sure you haven't, I have some things to tell you. 

I know you're at school now, and you're actually not bad, even rather good. I wish you didn't give a shit about Biology, it won't change anything. But rather pay more attention to Maths, it will do you a great job very soon, believe me. 

I also know you're much into writing. Great job, man! It's something that really gives you pleasure, right? Listen now very carefully - don't give it up. Under no curcumstances. Anyway, even if you do, don't think it will let you go so easily. It is something you can really do, and there are very few things any person can do well. 

A funny fact - they say, when a person writes something, there's usually someone in his work who he secretly wants to be like. It's the same with you, admit it. You want to be like the girl you're writing about - strong, self-confident and smart. With a good sense of humour, of course. And you know, you will someday. Maybe not tomorrow or next year, but you will be even better. Everything will be allright. They will hear you and see how cool you were all the way. I believe in you and I know you will show what you're made of one day. 

And, of course, a piece of advice - take care of your hair. It's a nice thing you gave up on ponytails, but set it straight, for God's sake. And don't use that eyeliner if you don't want to look like a creepy panda. But I bet you'll ignore it. Who would listen to a letter from a stranger? 

I have a lot more to tell you, but I'm not sure you'd love to know that NOW. Let's leave some things secret, shall we? You'll know what to do anyway. 

Take care, 
Me 

February, 16 - The clock

Write about anything you’d like. Somewhere in your post, include the sentence, “I heard the car door slam, and immediately looked at the clock.”


***

I wonder if anyone ever gave much thought to a simple idea of someone very important to you being in the same city with you. I bet for most of you it is a piece of your daily routine. "Why," you say. "we live in the same house and share a bed, why should it be something extraordinary?" Others will say that it is pure delight, and even if this is possible for only a short amount of time, it will never prove that long-distance relationships are doomed. And in this case all of you will be right.

But what if you could feel these two emotions at the same time? What if once you realise how truly weird this is - being in the same city with someone who means such a lot to you?

Although this idea was sounding in my head like leitmotif since the very morning the plane landed in this city, I still couldn't get used to it - and the moment I started realising it from time to time, very occasionally, while drinking coffee in one of the parks near the hotel, or walking in the streets in the evening, I couldn't help feeling dizzy. It seemed like the world suddenly broadened, as if they introduced one more dimension, and all the people, the buildings and streets, all the shining signboards - they all made their contribution to this, without even realising it.

I could endlessly walk around and breathe this unknown air if it wasn't for one thing - I came here with a definite purpose. Or I thought so in the morning, on that very day I decided to make it reality. After all, there wasn't much time left - even if they say a dream doesn't have an expiration date, and there's no ideal moment, sometimes you have to take a moment and make it ideal.

Oh, yes, you do, and you do exactly the same if you're some kind of a superhero who is bound to have a happy ending. Which I surely wasn't, I understood it the very second I got out of the taxi that brought me to a distant part of the city. With wet palms and trembling knees I started the last part of my journey, along a row of two-storeyed houses.

Luckily, there's only one I need.

***

I've never felt so much of a criminal, standing behind the corner of a small but neat mini-market and raising the collar of my coat, as if it could hide me in case of something unexpected. It's 8 PM, and I feel that I'm getting cold and that at the same time I could stand here forever. The absence of any action at this part of the street, and, which is more interesting to me, near that very house, seems strangely soothing. Somewhere deep in my heart I start feeling that it would probably be even better if nothing happened this evening, and...

I heard the car door slam, and immediately looked at the clock. A strange thing to do. People do strange things when their nerves let them down.

8.30 PM.

And there he was, checking his car for the locked windows or something else.
There he was, walking to the front door of his house.
As alive as anything else.


To be continued. 

P.S. I still suck at writing every single day, and the only thing that I keep justifying myself with is that quality should prevail over quantity no matter what. 
And one more - I really hope that someday all these pieces will turn into a kind of a proper literary work. 

February, 14 - Cupid's arrow

It’s Valentine’s Day, so write an ode to someone or something you love. Bonus points for poetry!

She tore off one more leaf of the calender and could hardly hold a sigh of disappointment.

This day couldn't help coming. St.Valentine's Day.

It meant several things at once.

Firstly, the newspread would be filled with posts of two kinds - Valentine cards and fresh jokes about the Mental Patient Day in Germany; secondly, the streets and shops would be full of people, men and boys mainly, breaking their heads, whether it should be flowers or chocolates, or flowers AND chocolates; the last but not the least, she should have come across the fact - she had no one to spend this day with.

I should really buy a cat, she thought.

There was one more variant, though.

***

- I've been waiting for you, - she said hoping her voice wasn't trembling too much.

- You look like you haven't.

Stern but seemingly not offended.

- I wonder if you ever looked at yourself into the mirror... not the way you do when you get up in the morning or stuff... but you don't realise what other people think when they see an appearance like yours.

- And what do they think? What do you think?

- I think ... I'd call it "out-of-this-world" type.

- Judging by the tone of your voice, I'm not really sure if it's good or bad, - he smirks.

- I don't know. At least, your future wife will have to put up with the fact she's not the cute one in your pair.

His self-satisfied smile suddenly blazed in the darkness brighter than several candles standing on the table, not to give some real light, but to maintain the atmosphere.

-  OK, enough about me. Let's talk about you. Why am I here?

- Frankly, I wanted to ask you the same question. Or ask myself.

This dialogue obviously wasn't heading anywhere. At this very moment she was closer to understanding why she was alone this day, closer than anytime before. But, as usual, she preferred to ignore it.

- I may blame alcohol for that, - she finally said, pounding every word more carefully than ever, - but I really wanted to say something to you.

- I...

- Don't. Just let me say. I'm not sure if I can say this any other time, so just don't interrupt.

He was surely more used to the idea of him being the one to talk. Obviously, being the one to listen wasn't that easy.

- This day is meant to say things to the one you love, right? But I guess I'm just not that case. And now you coming here, into my life... if I said I could easily ignore you, I would be lying. To myself, in the first place. The point is... you give me something. And I guess the most exact word is...

Inspiration.

- Right. If it wasn't for you, I would live my life like everyone else. Like a machine, you know... Getting up, getting things done, being happy. But it's not this simple. As long as I imagine you doing the same, basic things, on the other end of the world, but in your own way, so graceful, so elegant, so ... you, I ... somehow my own way of things seems sweeter to me.

Silence was the answer. All this time he was looking into some blank spot on the wall, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

- Why am I telling all this? I don't know. And I still doubt whether I should do so. But there's this one thing... there's probably only one person to fall in true love with. But there's hardly more than five people in this world who inspire you. Who add this strange sophistication to your routine. I'm glad you're here, in my life. And that without knowing that, you make me so happy at times. I'm done. Thank you.

***

She woke up from a strange dream. In fact, it was rather like an illusion. All the words still tasted strangely in her mouth. And even so, she would hardly change any single one if she had a chance.

February, 15th has just stepped into his rights. 

Somewhere in this world he has probably finished his business for today and was ready to welcome the end of the previous day. Oh, those weird time differences.

And right here, at this very moment, it meant everything in the world.

February, 11 - Whoa!

What’s the most surreal experience you’ve ever had?

(feat. Led Zeppelin - Stairway to heaven.mp3) 

A heavy wooden door closed with a silent bump.

The stranger raised his head and looked around before making a step into the mud. Obviously it had rained the night before, and that was the sole reason he had to stay night at this godforsaken place; but now the road lay in front of him again, and there was no time to waste.

Everything breathed with fog. It seemed like in all directions were only curtains of thick white clouds, and it made the whole picture look like a strange sort of heaven. The only thing to be seen was the peaks of grayish-brown oaks and maples, and their remaining leaves awaiting for the last breath of the autumn wind.

She - for it was a girl, despite the numerous layers of clothes leaving little chance of revealing her gender, - straightened up, set the bag with quite a few belongings right and started her way.

***

As time passed, the morning fog started to lift, and still everything around remained still and unclear. Although she was quite certain of her intention which was known to a rather narrow circle of people, every sound seemed to startle her. After looking at a number of acorns having fallen beside her, she smirked to herself and suddenly stopped again.

This sound had definitely nothing in common with leaves shaking in the wind or twigs broken by her own steps. Horses walking - and, judging by the rhythm, there were several of them. No matter what the exact number it was, or if the animals had people or any other living creatures on their backs or beside them, it could hardly bring any good, and she hurried to hide herself beside a mighty oak. The colour of her rags and the autumn leaves around would cover her perfectly, if the unknown visitors had no intention to search through the forest.

What she saw after that, would be none of her guesses, if she had any at all.

A number of people riding horses of all colours entered the path which she had only a couple of hours ago stepped on. It was hard to say what made them extraordinary in the first place - their thin clothes which seemed inappropriate at this season, or the fact that none of them shivered even for a second, or the serenity on their faces as they were ascending the uneven road. The first four horsemen looked as if they had already been to this place, but their looks were constantly moving from one tree to another. They were obviously ready to react in case something unexpected came in their solemn way. Despite this fact, they didn't make an impression of someone who was in a great hurry.

They were followed by a single horse carrying a lady on its back. Anyone who could see them would surely understand that the whole procession, no matter what their destination was, was for her own sake only. Her white gaze apparel barely touched the ground, and although her dress would make any girl die of envy, it wasn't the thing that attracted the most attention. It was rather the crown on her hair - quite a thin but clearly visible hoop of silver or some other unknown metal shining dimly, although hardly any rays broke through heavy autumn clouds. Her eyes were lowered to her own hands grasping the rein, and it seemed her thoughts were far away and higher than any of the trees in this forest.

Two more horsemen closed the file, their eyes locked on the lady and once in a while searching through the surroundings.

The whole sight, no matter how beautiful and mysterious it looked, beared a great air of solemness and, together with that, sorrow. At moments they seemed to be floating above the ground getting closer to the thoughts that probably troubled the lady in the middle so much. Now the stranger wasn't that much afraid; for even if she stepped out right in front of the procession, there was little chance they would notice her or anyone at all.

However mournful it appeared, it could hardly be an omen of bad luck after all.

After the last horsemen disappeared in the horizon, she stood up, threw off some leaves from her shoulders and continued the way.

There was yet much to walk and little time to waste.

***

She readjusted the headphones and walked out of the shop.

The evening sky was gradually being filled with stars - a clear sign of upcoming frosts.

It was already dark, and the silhouettes of high-rise buildings looked like some mysterious shapes against the dark blue background. The lantern hanging from the side of a shop signboard gave little light which threw weird shadows on the snowy path.

About five minutes to get home.

And even less to get back to reality.

January, 20 - Breaking the law

Think about the last time you broke a rule (a big one, not just ripping the tags off your pillows). Were you burned, or did things turn out for the best?

Everything was silent.
It was bound to go smoothly. No chance of being caught, not a single witness.
It made things even trickier. Spicier. It was surely worth it, and the confidence grew in her with every minute.

However, it was no good in tempting fate. No time to waste. It's now or never.
And still, it would be a mistake to say she didn't have a slightest doubt. For a moment she thought it was too much. In the end, did he really deserve it? What was so terrible in what he'd done before?

Nothing.
It was his very essence which disturbed her more that anything in the world. His seemingly innocent eyes that let everything off his hands. The fact that he was always somewhere near. Maybe if he didn't exist at all...

But no, she hadn't thought that. Not so harsh. Instead, she only grasped her weapon of revenge even tighter and headed for her goal.

It was now or never.

***

Looking at the kindergarten teacher who was desperately trying to wipe off the first letters of a word written on one of the cupboards, the little girl could hardly hold her tears.

No doubt, the word was a curse one, and the marker she accidentally found in the yard was really hard to remove.

Moreover, she had even less doubt that her parents would give her a hard time at home, having listened a detailed report about their angel-like daughter and her little unexpected revenge.

Now she didn't really know though what she was going to revenge for. The spite that reigned in her small heart just a couple of hours ago was already giving way to the guilty conscience.

And only after some years when the girl grew up she knew what another teacher told her parents as they were leading their rebellious kid out of the kindergarten yard:

- Oh, that boy... Nevermind. I would beat the crap out of him if I were her.