31 декември, 2014

all of 2014

January:
Tonight I'm finally happy and inspired and wanting the world again. Yep, it has a definition. I want to be better, to write more, read more and to believe in myself the way others do.
But well, when things are hard, we learn to get over them and hopefully learn to survive.
Writing will be the death of me and I cannot for the life of me imagine a death more sweet than that.
And it turned out that problems follow you no matter where you are. All you have to do is stay and deal with them and them laugh it all out with a friend.
I'm scared to actually say "is that all you've got"", because I've done so before and it turns out that I ain't seen nothing yet.
Whatever doesn't kill me, makes me who I am.
As Meredith says : What's that saying... Why do I keep hitting myself with a hammer? Because it feels so good when I stop.
This is how I remind me of what I really am. Not you. Not anyone.
My life is too short and I should not have to be surrounded by idiots if I can help it. It's as simple as that.

February:
What if I'm a princess on another planet? And no one on this planet know it?
Broken characters are my favourite. And Jem is my only exception.
That is what I always do - look for things that are broken, so they can break me as well and I can feel again.
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 so living in the world of fiction once this exam session is over. And I am never getting out.
Why does it feel like we are always on the edge of something but never quite there?
And I never said I can change the world with my words. But since they are all I have, I might as well try, right?!
You write so beautifully, you must be so broken up inside.
And just today I've realised I am because all the things that once broke me in pieces now are my reason to smile and keep breathing.
People need to find their own people and leave my person alone!
But I was born to do this, I guess... Working hard, being great, doing my best.
And the more I see, the less I like...
What do you do, when the person you count on the most turns out to be the one constantly stabbing you in the back?
I have no more scars for you.
What is it that makes everyone that comes my way to break my heart and make me unable to function properly?
It's just the way my life has always been. Always this close to something and never truly close enough.
Faith and "meant to be" only got us so far.
But I keep giving chances to the people who deserve it the least.

March:
Only writers can appreciate all the shit that are happening in their life and remember every damn thing, trying to fully experience it, in order to write it down and heal themselves in the process.

April:
You are either grateful and happy for all the things you have or you can never be happy and will always be looking for something even when you have everything you need.
But my point is, my presence was never an issue back then. Rather my constant absence was. All the irony.
The writer in me loves being broken time and again.
“I wanna make love to your soul, that’s how deep I wanna go.”
"If I held a pistol to your head, James, and pulled the trigger, would it really matter if I did not know that there were no bullets in the chambers?" - Will Herondale

May:
But still, missing someone for who he is is way harder than missing someone for who you want and picture him to be.
I will forever be haunted by my own doings because I somehow managed to create my own personal hell right here on earth. And I deserve it all.

June:
Щастието било да пишеш и малка топка косми да те топли дори в топлите дни.
Искам да се разлея по белите листи, докато не остане и частица емоция в мен.
I want the world! Yes, I do. And that world is not you.
I never realised that if I have the world, the way I do now, I would find his presence to be a burden, not a reward.

July:
we will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible,
and when we leave you will finally understand
why storms are named after people.
Sometimes I wonder myself if I am crazy because I write, or if I write because I'm crazy and I need to express my craziness and share it.
It's this thing where bad things keep happening and I need to make something bad to deserve them.
Because in the dark no one would know how broken we are.
Oh well, who would know that after finally having what I wanted then, I would want what I used to have before.
But I am a writer, I live to bleed.
I am not sure if I need you or just the presence of someone anymore.
Love is having a cat, when that cat is in a cuddly mood.
Every single thing we do feels like a goodbye and I am trying to remember when was the last time I felt happy and in love and knowing that we belong together.
You are saying you're here and I am telling you that I am too, but sometimes I don't want to be.
You can't realise how finished I am, how broken.
Yes, leaving will break my heart, but isn't it broken already?!
Because I never run away but maybe I should learn to.
I want to be watching the fireworks with a wild smile on my face and for someone else to be enjoying my craziness for fireworks. I want to be dancing in the rain and smiling like I have nothing in the world to care about but this exact moment of happiness.
If the storm is passing and everything is going back to normal, why do I feel like looking for a storm and standing in the rain?
Sadly we only see the signs we want to when we are ready to see them...
but the bigger you are, the messier everything is.
 It comes in waves... All the flashbacks of what it used to be like. And then the sad reality of what it is.
All the tape and the glue won't be able to make me forget the things I've heard and seen, the things I've had to live through only thanks to being so stupid as to let myself love so much. I shouldn't have. Even the writer in me is begging me to run away, start over and never look back.
I am the ocean. I am the waves and the fire and I will burn bridges and drown meadows the way I was burned and drowned so many nights in my sleep.
You can't love someone for the both of you. Even if you can, you shouldn't.
I can be as bitter and as awesome as I want and no one can say a thing about it, because I am nobody's and no one is mine.

August:
And the tears come and I feel like screaming but nothing comes, because I am short of breath and it hurts all over as if I will simply stop being any second.
Yep, there is nothing like art to fix a broken heart.
I am no good for you and no good for anyone right now, which is why I should not be standing all that close to you and you should be running.
Because hearts once broken can never be replaced or properly fixed and will always have sharp edges here and there and what they are good for is to break others.
I don't need peace and quiet and understanding but for someone to tell me to shut the hell up, stop thinking and start doing. Scream, kick, throw things, break things ... That's fixing.
If I am going to be broken, I will make sure I deserve it.
Of everything I've lost, I miss myself the most...
Damn you! Damn you and your music and your magic. Damn your lips and damn your touch.
I can play games and lie till the lie becomes me. I don't want to. I don't need to. Because I need you to be scared.
Because what doesn't kill you sure as hell fucks you up for good.
I am the ocean, I am nothing. Nothing can ever be enough for me. I want flames, I want waves, I want the storm and I want the calm after it.
When the truth is, you only ever have yourself. And that should be enough. Will be enough!
I need to be myself, to be free, and to be on my own, before I can belong again.
Пръстите ми чертаят думи по кожата ти. Имат нужда да държат някого силно, за да може този някого да държи мен, за да не се разпадна из основи.
"Нещо толкова просто като "Може би трябва да си останем приятели" се превръща в парче стъкло, което си проправя път към сърцето ти.. и боли."

September:
It feels good to have someone look at you as if you were never broken before. And then, to actually see how broken and damaged you truly are and to still want to stay around for all your craziness.
Good things don't come when you're ready for them. They come at the worst possible moment, sweep you off your feet, tell you to shut the fuck up and remind you how awesome your life can be.
Eventually feels a lot different than actually.
How did I become the bad guy in the story of how he broke my heart and called me a bitch?!
We pick our own medicine and it may kill us but at some point it was what we needed.
I am happy for the first time in a long time and the world might as well get used to it.
И обещаваше да си тук за всичко. Твоите обещания съм ти ги спазвала аз.
Винаги получаваме онова, което искаме, когато вече сме прекалено изчерпани, за да му отдадем нужното внимание.
Защото света за мен е любими хора, прекрасни приятели, хубави книги, горещо кафе, искрени усмивки, силна музика, вдъхновение за писане и дълги разговори под звездите. Какво повече мога да пожелая, след като имам всичко това?
"I'll survive. Somehow I always do."
But when it's raining outside the way it used to rain over me for two years and when I am all alone with just myself and my thoughts, I have to be the one to push all the ghosts to rest and not craw in my bed every time a damn shadow of a memory crosses my mind.
Which I am, but the way he looks at me... It's okay, you know. Everything I've done, all the dark places I've been to... It's all okay.

October:
I'm not sad, I'm not happy... I am existing. In a very basic way.
He never really said hello. He kept looking back, waiting for the past to come and take him, waiting for it to happen all over again.

November:
Why I tried so hard? Why I fought and hoped against hope? Why I let you drag me trough all the possible circles of hell and even create some new ones for me? Because I believed it was my fairytale. Because I am a dreamer and I am the kind of person who'd be here for all your crappy moods and periods and who'd forgive you all your craziness. Because I don't give up on people all that easily and I give them all the chances I have in the world, even if it breaks me.
And Callie is right: "But no matter how hard we try we have to realise that some things just can't be fixed."
And there is no beauty in goodbye. There are only all your hopes and dreams burning. The goodbye itself is never beautiful. It goes with lots of tears and screaming, begging.
The beauty is in surviving. And I, for one, will do my best to make it.
I am broken, yes. He is giving me the world and I can't for the life of me bring myself to care.
"You'd lose your mind trying to understand mine."
Plus, I'm happy. Can we keep it that way for a few days at least?
The things that never were shaped me and my choices.
I am the girl that fights even when the odds are not in her favour. I am the girl that lives in the storm and hates the quiet, unless it's after midnight and I have a story that is begging me to write it.
I'll be both the best and the worst thing that ever happened to him. Well, let's face it now - I am.
"Your thoughts kill you, don't they?"
I want to have the bad times, so I can also have the good ones.
Well, that's life, I guess. Some people passing through your life only to leave a mess behind.
But there were times when things were so great, I wanted them to last not for a lifetime, but for many more. And then there were times when I thought my chest would finally break or I'd go completely insane from all the dark thoughts and things happening
And how exactly do I handle the fact that we are strangers who have so much memories it kills me to want them gone? How do I let go of all that I believed would be my future?
Just because I know what my problem is, doesn't mean I can solve it.
"Той е онова усещане, което ти праща здравия разум по дяволите, сърцето в стомаха и задръжките разхвърляни по пода."
And for the life of me, I can't help but feel both broken and alive again. Yep, there goes my theory that what is killing us is also making us feel more alive in its own sick and twisted way.
You, on the other hand make me want to hit you and kiss you in the same time. You make me want to torture you and whisper things in a low voice, while being oh, so close to you.
As if I wasn't insane enough before, now my insanity has your name.
I may not love you any more, but I don't love you any less either.
"Everything happens for a reason. Sometimes the reason is that you are stupud and make bad decisions."
"You drink about it, smoke about it, don't talk about it."
Do you miss me while you are out there looking for yourself?
We are all dominos falling for each other.
It's like you know the morning after that you are going to regret something. But you also know that if you don't give it a try, you will be wondering for the rest of your life.
The waking up isn't the hardest part, when your heart is broken. It's everything else.
So I fake normal and have yet another day of pretending to be okay and dying on the inside.
You know, it's one thing to know you're completely and permanently fucked up and another to actually feel it. I felt it a week ago. And I've been feeling it ever since. The moment he held me and I whispered through tears: "You're still you?", knowing the answer myself. He was. He was his old self, the old self I fell for.
It sucks when the one thing that can truly fix you is the thing breaking what is left of you.
I want to scream and burn things and call you at 4 in the morning and tell you every curse word I know and then to pathetically beg for you to come.
He is my north.

December:
I'm in chains, I realised. I've chained myself with choices, mistakes, thoughts, ideas, future that may not really belong to me.
But I am calm as I let him kiss the scars on my skin. Scars that he made himself and yet they seem to disappear under his gentle touch.
But you can't really ruin a person, can you? I realise now that we are all broken one way or the other.
The thing is, there are people who wake up those demons and others who lay them to sleep. You did both.
Which is why I am willing to go through heaven and hell with you, if that's what you want me to.
Не искам да познавам никой и не искам никой да познава мен. Не искам и себе си да познавам, доста често.
I love how people can screw up my life from distance. As always!
We are both still in that storm, aren't we? Our storm.
I am the one who brings comfort with my words, you do it for me with your presence.
It's just that we can be extraordinary together, rather than ordinary apart.
If you're going to love me, love me deeply. If you're going to break my heart, then break it all.
Of all the thing I love, him sleeping while I'm holding him and his hands are wrapped around me is the best possible feeling in the world.
It's such a scary feeling to realise that one person still holds your whole world in his hands and can either make it or break it with one single movement. It's horrible, isn't it? When you realise that you can go through both heaven and hell and still want more of both. Well, he is my heaven and he is my hell, for better or for worse.
You are both the best and the worst thing that has happened to me so far. And in all honesty I loved every second of it.
What we can be together, we can't possibly with anyone else because we bring parts of one another that no one else would be able to handle.
"Whatever our souls are made, his and mine are the same."
Sometimes people screw up and they hurt each other. But there are people who no matter how much they hurt you in the past, they still make you feel alive like no one else.
I told you today, that I have a special place. It actually means that you do and that I'll always be there for you when you need me.
You have all of me, is all.
Нещата, които ни убиват, ни правят и истински живи. Fucked up, isn't it?!
Трябва да изгубим всичко, за да разберем кое наистина има смисъл.
It's not the epic moments that we miss, it's the little ones that we never really pay attention to.
And then there are people that are just right in every possible way. And they can love you, they can hate you, they can adore or hurt you, but no one can make you feel as alive as they do.
Хората трябва да се появяват в живота ни със срок на годност и указания за употреба.
Не се връщай, за да разбереш какво искаш. Върни се, когато знаеш, че искаш мен.
Трябваше да имам повече смелост и разум, за да не си мисля, че има вечности в множествено число и притежателни местоимения в живота ми. Защото нашата вечност ти я искаш с нея.
Няма нищо по-лошо от това да мислиш, че имаш шанс, когато всъщност нямаш и никога не си имал.
but our hands will always feel empty somehow where someone else's hand used to be.
Не е нужно да си поет, за да се раждаш и умираш по белите листи. Аз го правя всеки ден.
Не ми стига една вечност, искам хиляди.
Никога не искам да те няма. Ти си ми хаоса и спокойствието. Ти си ми проблема и решението.
I forgive you for not knowing. Even I don't know. All I'm saying is... Let's figure it out together.
Когато умът ти прекара последната вече година в маратон от мисли, тревоги, безсъния, кошмари наяве и насън... В един момент му прелива чашата и ти казва, че така повече няма да я караш. Сега ще те тормози той, задето си го тормозил ти толкова време.
Понякога трябва просто да следваш сърце, разум, инстинкт или каквото там те дърпа и да не се чудиш толкова много.
It's like I'm everything you want in a girl, but you don't feel it. It's like I've failed and I don't even know how.
And it feels like the only thing worse than being together is not being together because we are soulmates in many ways - we get each other on a higher level.
Нищо никога няма да бъде същото, защото ми се случи много и причиних много.

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