22 in 2 days

Monday, 27 July 2015

I am almost 22, and at night I still dream about saving the world. I hate the thought that my character can already be fully shaped and there is nothing left for me to do, as I will stay this way forever. I don't have plans, I only have dreams. And I have to tell you, those are still the dreams of a child. I don't think about supporting myself, I don't think about starting a happy family. I dream of moving from place to place and never having to worry about anything. Real life gets me down. That's why I spend my days in bed unless I have to get up to do my summer practice. The days that I have to get up and clean people's teeth are probably the best days, because once I am on my feet, my thoughts are somehow brighter. The other days I just think about how miserable I make myself. I am losing all the positive feelings, turning into a mindless zombie, curled up in my bed, drinking coffee just for the taste of it. I want to have dreams, just never speak loudly about them. I have a feeling that each time I say something out loud, the moving spirit vanishes, I am no longer capable of making it happen. And I watch so many chances go by. Too many. On daily basis. I see myself lighting up, then burning down until nothing positive stays. I know that this blog means nothing to you, and I hate to see that it's starting to mean less and less to me as well. It might be a writer's block or honesty block. I'll try to write something new in a few days, since I have a bunch of photographs for you to see. So sorry it's taking so long, I am not in a very good place right now. Maybe once I am 22, the hazy days will stop.

nameless cat

Friday, 10 July 2015

Nameless cats are perhaps my favourite. Sometimes I wish I was more like them. Responding to nothing and no one. Just so free and careless, not worrying about anything. There is always a nameless cat in Murakami's books, there was a nameless cat in Breakfast at Tiffany's. Looks like they are somehow iconic characters. 

“Holding this soft, small living creature in my lap this way, though, and seeing how it slept with complete trust in me, I felt a warm rush in my chest. I put my hand on the cat's chest and felt his heart beating. The pulse was faint and fast, but his heart, like mine, was ticking off the time allotted to his small body with all the restless earnestness of my own.” ― Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle 

I had always failed at capturing animals. I was never fast enough. My yorkie loves to move way too much. The cat just gazed at me when I kneeled down beside him and focused my lens. He gazed with those beautiful light eyes. Maybe it was the heat of that day that made him so lazy, he just did not want to move away from me. I could see that he wanted to play, but I felt like so did his claws. And those sharp little knife-like teeth.

There will be a new post in two or three days when I put together some description of the flea market that we visited when I was leaving Bialystok for summer vacation. I shot with Kodak Ultramax 400, so there will be some gorgeous tones here and there. Stay tuned! And since I've gone back to regular blogging now, I would love to have you apply for the free banner swaps that I offer! Let's grow our blogs together! You can click here if you are interested! :)

my favourite faded fantasy

Tuesday, 7 July 2015

My vacation has finally begun. But like always in life, I just cannot spend my days in bed and forget about the whole world. In the past, I successfully vanished each time the vacation started. This year, unlike any other, it is just too hard to fully let go of everything and everyone. Maybe I no longer know how to turn invisible. I cannot go unseen. Life in another city has made me stronger, but when I saw a familiar face in the crowd the other day, all the feelings came back to me. During my school years, I was worth nothing. Nobody ever cared about me. I was never popular, neither in the positive nor the negative way. I just existed. Often people laughed at me, because of the stupidest reasons, like the house I lived in or that my mum was so protective of me, that I couldn't go on  a bus by myself until I was 11 or 12. I heard bitter words because I was skinny and my breasts did not exist until late middle school. During the first years in school, I was surrounded by people that spoiled and clueless about real life, that I feel so relieved that I no longer see them day to day. I somehow survived the worst years, living my dream life in my head, living all the scenarios. Maybe I took after my dad in more than just height. I feel like we both demand perfection from ourselves. I wish it was not the case, because I am honestly tired of feeling like I am not enough. I swear, it would have been easier if I just forgot that anyone is actually reading those ramblings that I gather here.

I would have lied if I said that all my life I had been dreaming about you. I had been dreaming about douches and fuck-ups that never took a second glance at me. That perhaps treated my interests as flaws, while you think of me as a smart and well-rounded girl. I do not feel complete, but with you I have learnt to love what I am. And now I feel more sure that I can take a chance at whatever I want, and even if my wishes are not granted, I feel that I deserve the best. Thank you.

© Dipped in Rococo ~ lifestyle in analog Maira Gall.