03 февруари, 2014

too close for comfort

The best ending of the week is waking up on Sunday and starting to write because you can no longer stand the urge to do so. Being crazy works for me. I won't have time to watch my TV show today all that much because I have to learn a bit Russian but hopefully it will be worth it on the exam tomorrow.
Even if the day didn't turn out to be as good as the late morning relaxing, I guess I realised lots of things while watching "The Carrie Diaries". It sure is awesome watching a show about a young writer. I wish this was on when I was her age. It could have saved me from a lot of painful memories and ghosts. But won't that turn out to change the way I am now? Things happen for a reason. And I suppose I knew I should have looked for the broken things and that it would make me a great writer. That is what I always do - look for things that are broken, so they can break me as well and I can feel again. 
I guess that is why my minds loves my ghosts... My scary places... The cracks all over my heart and traces of touch all over my skin. Being broken is what makes me better. And being a writer explains perfectly the over-thinking of every single thing.
And I just realised why I would hate being a translator. It would mean translating stuff that other people wrote, instead of writing things myself. It would kill me. 
I may not have mastered Russian, but I have found even more inspiration. As soon as this exam session is over all I am going to do is drink cappuccino, read books, write my own and finish writing the script with a friend of mine. And looking on the bright side, after tomorrow there will be one less exam to worry about. 
I remember a time when I hated February. I had a good reason for it, of course. But the thing is ... Now I realise a trick when I see it. I know it all a bit too well to get fooled by it. I wish I knew it back then, but surely I wouldn't have been myself if I did. It would have been someone else. I don't really like February again, but it has nothing to do with my old reasons. It's simply just two cold and a lot of important things are happening right now. But I remember a night in February when I was wearing my american flag shirt and I was smoking a cigarette in 5 in the morning after a conversation and lots of drinking with my boyfriend who at the time was nothing more than a good friend to a girl, who was freaking out about all the things she couldn't say. And I was the same to him. We were two broken strangers in the night. And that was two years ago. And looking back, all my reasons for freaking out are stupid but if it wasn't for them he wouldn't have opened up to me the same way I did to him and none if it would have happened. So I change an old statement of mine to one of my many ghosts. Thank you for breaking me, so I can be perfect for the one who made me whole again. Well, as whole as I can possibly. I am a writer after all. I wear my scars with pride and I often touch them, wondering if it would hurt. Sometimes I even want them to, just so I can get the words to spill out of me. 
So, on second thought, I guess February is not so bad. The cold makes you seek warmth and who knows where you might find it. And here I find out that to my words about the cold and the spring warming me up came truth and my boyfriend was the one who gave me his warmth when I had lost mine. Where have you been my whole life, love? 

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