streda, januára 21

Tormented but happy nonethles

Depression is such a bad word. Like a murderer or a vacuum cleaner, it wants to suck out every ounce of happiness. I found myself more depressed, neglecting my usual duties as well as the external one. I am writing a cook-book if it can be called in such a posh manner, I tried releasing posts and writing reviews but I never get past my laziness and didn't even opened the damned browser.



Maybe I am just writing sick.

I was skipping any writing and maybe my post box is now too full.

Or, judging by this post, I miss english. As strange as it may see and hear to a stranger's ears and eyes, I do, in spite of reading daily in english, miss english. My classes (I have normal english, conversations and grammar class) are totally useless for my - I have no match here, no worthy opponent I can speak to without restrictions. I am so desperate I downright flourish under attentive even if sometimes nonunderstunding gaze of my fellow reader friends - I have few opportunities to bloom into full maturity in the pronunciation and speaking field and I crave to grow so much.

Maybe I am just sick.

Feverish mind, purely scattered thoughts, snappy mood and short attention span. Not mentioning random coughing, unstoppable need for tissues, dizziness and weird sweating with feeling of cold. But I am a virgin by birth and thus take every matter regarding health too gravely.

Furthermore, I feel the strangest sense of growing up.

I thought I had quite a mild teenagerhood, actually turning shy and quiet in stead of bickering with any adult I see or attending wild parties. Now, I start to think my teenagerosity was only postponed. I am still closed up and anti-social but symptoms like petty arguments, defiance, unusual boredom in school and loose of respect for supposed decent role models ...

Depresion is for about a week now the most pressing issue.

Un or just fortunately I love depression. Mayhap I am just not too deep in the proverbial hole but that tiredness, uselessness, purposelessness ... it feel reall and I cling to it. I spoon with my depresion in bed, I walk with her, holding hands, I let her haunt me when I just sit or eat.

Reading ...

Reading is the best sort of mindlessness.

Really.

I don't think when I read and it must be definitely one of the reasons I read at all. I was often now realizing how abrupt was my change of mind about books. I never given them a great deal of thoughts, I do not remember reading and my enrapture for the first time but filling myself with words was a kind of oblivion I welcome with grin on my face and joy in heart. Better then alcohol, I think thought.

But Maybe - some people were not meant to be let read freely at all.

For as I cling to the dark, weightfull feelings, I also like to be heartbroken and angry, going berserk, shattering windows in my mind and relishing in it. And still, as I kiss that shadowed side of me, I also am so so full of light.

I can't be angry for long.

I shy, even in mind, from swearing.

I look on the bright side, whether it is a person or a thing.

I can be patient when most people go mad or show aside my feeling for a purpose.

and

I consider buying eggs that are not free range the worst of my sins.


And maybe I should also mention that happiness.

Many people sought what is within their reach. Me? I am satisfied with my life. Truly and thoroughly. I like the bumps and highs, I enjoy solitude and philosophy, making a statement or defending classmate. I like getting my shoes dirty with mud and almost forgetting my friends birthday and wandering in the streets.

And of course, the happiness.

Many may think being happy is a great goal one ought to find by hard work or they just thought it a virtue or a wonder or just a thing. Me? I just feel happy. Not anywhere. Not everywhere. Not anytime. Not with anyone. But they struck me, as a lighining tend to do with a strom, at the most unexpected place and it is a feeling as tangible and fleeting, as solid as unreal, as a most vivid dream.

The end and I bid my farewells.

If you reached this point, I congratulate and thank you for not everyone do.

May peace be with you.

Vitajte

v hlave jednej začínajúcej ale nie úplne (dúfam) amatérskej spisovateľky. Toto bol môj blog o varení a čítaní - teraz sa tu chcem venovať svojej ďalšej vášni a tou je písanie.

Príspevky sú taký môj neformálny denník, kde sa môžem vyventilovať, podeliť o to čo robím (a malo by ma to aj dokopať každý deň k písaniu sa aspoň vyjadriť alebo ešte lepšie písať).

Zavediem vás do svojho myšlienkového procesu ohľadne stavania knihy, scén, postáv... pochválim sa čo som za deň stihla, prípadne pridám aj nejaký tip, ktorý niekomu bude pripadať očividný a niekomu možno aj nie.

Asi nemusím písať, že toto sú moje názory a skúsenosti a nemám na nič patent a bla, bla, bla.

Dúfam, že si tu každý spisovateľ nájde aspoň kúsok niečoho - či už je to spoločné trápenie, zaujímavá myšlienka, otázka alebo možno dokonca moje skromné rady.

Ďakujem za návštevu.