#DepressingDecember

My perhaps

Perhaps I did this.

Perhaps it was my fault and mine only.

Perhaps it all could have been different.

Perhaps it all should have been different.

Perhaps the fate was willing it to be this way.

Perhaps we weren't meant to be.

Perhaps we were.

Perhaps we were, yet my mistakes changed what was supposed to be.

Perhaps I wasn't the only one hurt.

Perhaps I hurt him too.

Perhaps I was just too self-orientated and selfish to notice. 

Perhaps I am to blame.

Perhaps I deserve this.

Perhaps. 

Perhaps.

Perhaps.

Perhaps if I acted differently...

Perhaps if I was stronger...

Perhaps if wasn't so scared...

Perhaps.

Perhaps it could have been.

Perhaps it would.

Perhaps.

Perhaps it would have been perfect.

Perhaps we would have been happy.

Perhaps all I think about would have happened the way I imagined it.

Perhaps he would have kissed me every day.

Perhaps we would have talked about nerdy things for hours.

Perhaps he would have told me he loved me.

Perhaps I would have told him the same.

Perhaps he would have mended me.

Perhaps he would have made me believe in happiness and forevers.

Perhaps he would have made me feel less worthless.

Perhaps he would have given me a purpose.

Perhaps he would have given me a reason to live.

Perhaps he would have taught me to see world like a beautiful place.

Perhaps he would have taught me to smile for real.

Perhaps he would have proven to be all I ever believed him to be.

Perhaps he would have proven to be more. 

Perhaps I could have made him smile.

Perhaps I could have been saying things he would have laughed at.

Perhaps I could have been kissing him and touching all I would have wanted.

Perhaps I could have all of that.

Perhaps, just perhaps, it was what he wanted as well.

Perhaps I used to haunt his dreams just like he haunts mine.

Perhaps he used to think about me too.

Perhaps it all could have been.

Perhaps I was just too stupid.

Definitely it's all gone now.

The worst feeling ever is when your parents ask you what university you want to go to and you've known the answer for ages; you know the school, you known the course you'd take... yet you say you have no idea or you tell them what they want to hear, because you know that if you told them the truth you'd be mocked. So you lie and smile and then slowly walk away to cry into your pillow. Call me a coward all you will, I couldn't care less. If you do, you have no idea what it feels like to be doubted all the time or to live with people who don't understand you a little bit... parents who take you for just an average kid and see your future so similar to theirs. Study something that will get you steady job, do that for the rest of your life, get married, have kids. Be no different from the rest of the world. That's what average people do. I am not average, and this is not even close to what I expect of my life. What I'm telling is not to show off, if anything, I deserve your pity for being of intelligence that is considered highly over average, because it is curse. It makes you want more than average life and sometimes that's not to be had. I don't want just to get through this life like many do, unnoticed... I want to be an artist. I want to create. I want to do something to make the world more interesting place, to make people smile and laugh and be happy...
I cannot do what is expected of me, I can't just get some useless Slovak school degree and do useless job that anyone could do. Yet you have no idea what it feels to do all and be prepared to do even more to gain what you desire most, to be able to sacrifice all for it, yet realise is not even close to being enough... and knowing that no matter what, you'll end up between those people you are not one of and you don't understand... and then you'll just wait until they slowly drain the life out of you... and than, hopefully, you'll die. Depressed, cigarette between your lips, the only one whose kiss you truly desired.

Oh, what a bright future awaits me...

Beautiful and dead

#DepressingDecember


-Then fuck it all

-I'd like to

-Do it then

-But I care too much

-We all do

-And soon we end up broken

-But if we didn't feel at all, would we stay humans?
-No, and that would be perfect.

-Wouldn't we become monsters, though?

-We all are anyway. I want to feel as much pain as is needed to kill me or no pain at all.

-Pain's so close to pleasure sometimes… it is still a feeling and any feeling is better than the emptiness when you feel nothing at all

-Yeah well, people kill themselves to feel as empty as possible.

-I believe it's the empty people who kill themselves before the emptiness does it for them

-I believe it will be my words that will kill me one day.

-Being killed by words is the most beautiful death I can imagine

-Die creative and drunk.

-With a cigarette between your lips

-And genius words on the paper below your beautiful arms.

-Those arms with old marks of suffering like paintings

-And the last cigarette you've smoked, the very last and the tastiest poison you've ever had. Stuck between your red painted lips. Your last kisser.

-The only one who never attempted to break your heart, yet slowly kept destroying you from inside

-How smart can this lover be.... Dangerous and well known, yet still so lovable.

-And the way he keeps kissing, you forget he'll kill you in the end

-And he is also so protective. He never lets other people love you because he wants all of you. Every little breath, every passionate kiss.

-And with every kiss a little bit more of him stays with you, the beautiful smoke that your soul slowly sinks in

-And with every cloud of this smoke, your eyes become more and more blind. And as blind you can see so much more.

-Yet one day you may realise that the world your blind eyes see is quite different from the world the rest knows

-We all know that world inside our head is not just great. It's also infinite. And infinite can't be seen with eyes. You need to see every part of never ending with different part of your broken heart.

Čosi z mojej a Adel Vjtušovej hlavy...

Ona je inak v poriadku

O sebe mám pochybnosti

Môj život je kombinácia ospravedlnení a následných činov, ktoré si žiadajú ďalšie ospravedlnenia... mrzí má, že ani sa to tu nerozbehlo a už to sadá prachom, na čomsi sa robí, ale kým to bude publikovateľné, to ešte potrvá

Ink Stains 2

Deux

Ink stains

I might post some pictures later, if I feel like it. I hate the fact that oft times I'm the only one to get them for they are too good not to be got. Anyways, I hate being adult. I mean, I love the fact I can go to shop and buy whatever I feel like (not wanting to sound like an alcoholic, but I like having fun and you need to live through something to be able to write about life). However, people expect shit from me and honestly, how stupid do you have to be to do that? Responsibility is not a concept I quite understand and neither is problem solving - adult style. Trust me, I am totally useless. That has not changed and most probably isn't going to either. Just the view of world has changed and how I hate that!
I think about writing two stories at once actually. After deciding to set the current one aside, I found a way to continue it. It was just a single sentence that crept into my mind after drawing the main character during the most boring i-don't-even-remember-what class ever. I like to write a sentence or two next to a drawing I'd finished. Usually it's better than the drawing itself (which doesn't speak highly of my drawing skills, considering it's just two or three words most times) and it gives the drawing an idea or point. I usually put the word on paper, not knowing where they came from. And after sketching a girl who smokes too much (I liked the details, though the proportions were slightly unbalanced) I found a few words next to her. It looks like I left the notebook in school though and I dare not  try to guess the though. I liked it too much for that.
And then there is the other story. Ink stains, it's going to be called. I've drawn its character as well, but there is no quote so far for I'd have to finish the drawing itself first. I am thinking about writing which ever I feel like writing at given time and posting both simultaneously. And both shall be in Eng. which I am sorry about, I do not feel confident about writing in the language, yet I write to work on my writing which I hope is going to be part of my future and the future one is most definitely not going to be written in Slovak so I do my best to learn to write in English. Some people take extra classes to prepare for their future, I do this, though I should work more. And I promise to try.