tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-212711752024-03-08T02:12:52.778+02:00.Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-35600240233639774092008-04-04T13:28:00.003+03:002008-04-05T16:32:35.915+03:00The Neighbour's Gun<object height="80" width="300"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/9b_GTJl1l2/aus=false/"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/9b_GTJl1l2/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"></embed></object><br /><br />I remember those lazy summer nights. In my light, light dress, I would open the window and gaze at the moon in the night. I would look and almost feel the air touching every inch of my body. The cool breeze, the nature and my neighbor’s gun.<br />He was a strange man. A Texan. He moved here long ago when his wife died in a car crash. He’d use his gun daily since then. He’d shut through the window into the sky. Tryin’ to kill that fucking bastard that killed my wife all over again, he’d say. The fucking bastard died in the accident as well.<br />We live in a two story building, you see. It’s just our family on the first floor: mum, dad, my sister and me. He had the second floor for his own. We’d rarely talk though, he was an odd man. He wouldn’t talk much. I don’t talk much either; this is where we are alike.<br />Every night, he’d take out his gun and shoot at the sky. It was his religion, it was his ritual of some sort, nobody understood that, it actually bothered everyone at first. But you get used to living with other people’s ghosts. I did. I couldn’t fall asleep until he shot that bullet into the sky. I know mum couldn’t, I would hear her going into the kitchen for a glass of water, waiting for him to shoot. When he did, she’d turn the kitchen lights off and fall asleep.<br />I never could fall asleep after his shots though. I kept thinking about how much he had loved his wife that he decided to continue this ritual until the day he died. Although he came to live with us a long time ago, like ten years perhaps, he was thrown out of every home he tried to live in, because the neighbors couldn’t accept this weird ritual of his.<br />I would sit there looking through the window wondering about him and his life. I heard him breathe when he would go out to the balcony. He couldn’t sleep either, maybe it was the summer’s heat, maybe he had insomnia. No one dared to ask, even me. Even if someone asked, I doubt that he would respond and his silence was disturbing. I had lots of thoughts at night, about my own future even. About my future when I grow older and live with Vic in another house, for example. I was wondering how I will fall asleep without hearing that shot at night. After the dose of thinking I listened to my own breathing or sometimes looked at the picture of my aunt to whom I once said “I wish you nothing but death”. My mum put her picture in my room as a punishment after she died. You see she cut my lips when I was little and the scars will never heal. They are not very noticeable, though which is good. She’d often laugh at me because of that. I never told my mother about her sister, I said that I cut them myself. I decided to have my own ghost and live with it. It was sometimes hard seeing her face, smiling, full of greed and hatred. My sister saw her cutting my lips with the little scissors and auntie said: “You say this to anyone and I will make your smile eternal too.”<br />My sister never spoke of that again. Neither did I.<br />And one night he didn’t shoot. In the morning we didn’t talk while having breakfast. Dad was silent, instead of saying the morning jokes. Mum’s hands were shaking. My sister was looking at me with a gaze that almost asked me to tell her that he did shoot. I was looking at them all, observing how the old Texan became a part of our life. His ritual became ours. My mother’s moves were chaotic; she seemed to be impatient and anticipating.<br />“I’ll go see Vic today,” I said to my family.<br />My dad looked at me like he approved it, so I did. I saw Vic from afar, he was earlier than me, as usual, sitting of the grass near the lake where we always meet. He was sad today.<br />“I didn’t hear it,” he said.<br />I looked at him attentively.<br />“Tell me he did,” he said it calmly, looking at the little waves of the lake.<br />“He didn’t shoot, Vic,” I said. “Now kiss me.”<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN7AqoeY_nhiuz6W9mjbSTDcfUWb_JUvUKRJotVRtXAS7OxFyF6lJvJbL7kV2NaLihuIcizXcZe5ljVGpcleyTBaNtV5JLD_G7mZ2fN2cATcIEP1HkVkpqErn81E07YlRhKWsz/s1600-h/235219tenos9lqoh.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185338316768078018" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN7AqoeY_nhiuz6W9mjbSTDcfUWb_JUvUKRJotVRtXAS7OxFyF6lJvJbL7kV2NaLihuIcizXcZe5ljVGpcleyTBaNtV5JLD_G7mZ2fN2cATcIEP1HkVkpqErn81E07YlRhKWsz/s200/235219tenos9lqoh.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA5CFsJfQ_fXttqJJEnjr4Dp3JSB6X8blNzDxc1-vU2JB0vqny0sUOux6TFWCYVlqjaDyeiRWIVqCiKS0lIXdD8CRkFxBG69mTxlM969ukwJ1gWGoSXSmQAkAh4l_qk2TrTVx5/s1600-h/196417kou6se0iym.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185338574466115794" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA5CFsJfQ_fXttqJJEnjr4Dp3JSB6X8blNzDxc1-vU2JB0vqny0sUOux6TFWCYVlqjaDyeiRWIVqCiKS0lIXdD8CRkFxBG69mTxlM969ukwJ1gWGoSXSmQAkAh4l_qk2TrTVx5/s200/196417kou6se0iym.gif" border="0" /></a><br />He looked at me, smiled and pretended he didn’t want to. So I sat further from him. He looked at me then turned away. Fine, I thought and turned away as well. In one second I felt something on my hand, in two more seconds that thing held my hands and I couldn’t do anything about it. And in three more seconds I felt this soft touch on my lips. How could he not kiss me? He lay down on me, touching me and kissing me on the neck, lips and shoulders. Then he lay beside me.<br />“I like your dress,” he said<br />I didn’t react. I just lay there, feeling the soft wind on my skin.<br />“I like your breasts,” he said loudly.<br />I turned to him and started making faces at him and he just laughed. And I laughed at him. It was a sunny summer’s day and we didn’t have a care in the world.<br />Who am I trying to kid? We did have one care. And it bothered everyone.<br />I came back home to see a pie on the table and my mum sitting in the kitchen looking through the window. Waiting.<br />“I have to ask you this,” she said. “Go to him, make sure he is fine, give him this pie. I won’t be able to sleep. I just can’t.”<br />Her face was almost crying, she thought he died. And it seemed only I felt that he was fine.<br />“All right, mum.”<br />I took the stairs I almost never took before. They were clean, though, he’d clean them time to time. I wasn’t afraid. I am not saying that I wasn’t curious why didn’t he shoot, I was, but there was something in me that was killing the will to know. I knocked on his door. No one opened. I waited. Knocked again and waited… until he opened.<br />“Yep?” He said calmly.<br />“Hi, I’m the neighbor downstairs, my mum made you this pie and wanted me to make sure you are ok,” I said.<br />“Thank you but you eat it all up, miss. I am fine,” he said.<br />I looked at him. He looked at me. His gaze was stronger than mine, so eventually I looked down.<br />“I didn’t hear it.” I said and heard him closing the door. Not slamming it, but closing it quietly.<br />I looked at the door for a moment then went to sit on the stairs. I was thinking about him, he was a very handsome man, yes he was old but years ago he must have been the most handsome guy in town.<br />And I heard him open the door. I could already imagine him pointing his gun at me and shooting me and saying: “Heard it now.” I closed my eyes.<br />When I opened them I just saw him sitting next to me only now wearing a cowboy hat.<br />“You got a nice boy there. He comes up to ya some nights, havin’ fun there miss?” he asked calmly, smiling at me.<br />I smiled at him, I must admit, he got me shy there.<br />“It’s not what you think…” I didn’t finish.<br />“Well why ain’ it?” he smiled again and looked right into my face and his smile was gone. I didn’t turn away, I knew he saw my scars or my eternal smile, like auntie called it.<br />“I hear you breathe on the balcony every time after you shoot. You keep thinking of her.”<br />“At night yes. And sometimes I think of you when you silently listen to me,” he said.<br />“Scissors,” I said and sighted. “She took scissors and cut my lips. A frame with her picture is in my room because no one saw her cutting me but everyone saw me wishing her death.”<br />“Why yer keepin’ it then?” He asked.<br />“Same reason you’re shooting.”<br />He looked away. He understood me. He took his cowboy hat off and closed his eyes.<br />“Don’t pity me, sir,” I said interrupting his thoughts.<br />He opened his eyes and looked at me.<br />“It’s just a photo, miss. It’s destroyable,” he said.<br />“I haven’t figured a good way to destroy it yet.”<br />“When you do, miss, you know where to find me,” he said and stood up. “And miss, I hope when this guy comes next time it will be what I think.”<br />He smiled and made me smile.<br />“Sir, are you sure you don’t want the pie?”<br />But he already closed the door, I didn’t even say goodbye.<br />I came back home that evening with the pie to find my whole family by the kitchen table, sitting and waiting. Their faces turned to me as I approached them.<br />“He’s fine,” I said. “I guess he fell asleep yesterday and forgot to shoot or something.”<br />They all were calm now and as I sat by the kitchen table, they started to eat.<br />I couldn’t sleep that night either. I was looking through the window, thinking about the Texan when I heard steps. I saw a silhouette coming towards me. It was Vic.<br />“Hi Juliet,” he said.<br />“Hi yourself, Romeo, climb in,” I replied with a little laugh.<br />He entered my room looking into my eyes. I looked back at him as he sat on the floor. I sat right next to him.<br />“He’s fine,” I spoke at last.<br />Vic was silent for a moment then he looked at me.<br />“That’s not why I came here. I came here to spend time with you,” he said it and touched my nose.<br />I smiled at him and kissed him softly. He touched my face with his hands and touched my lips by his so slowly then he opened his mouth and bit my lip softly. I embraced him tighter and closed my eyes. He touched me slowly while he was kissing my neck and shoulders. He paused for a moment and I opened my eyes, he knew I loved when he did that. He carried me to the bed while kissing me passionately, every kiss was deeper and deeper. I took his shirt off to feel his warmth. I knew the neighbor heard us. Every time, he wasn’t listening but he heard us. I think he was thinking about himself and his wife when he heard us.<br />“Wait,” I said to Vic.<br />He looked at me confused as I stood up and took the frame with the picture of my aunt. I came closer to the window and heard him breathe silently. He was waiting to shoot but didn’t want to disturb me and Vic. Or he was waiting for my move to help him and myself.<br />“Thank you,” I said loudly and heard him stand up. I closed my eyes and threw the frame as high as I could and heard him shoot.<br />When what’s left of the frame fell down, I noticed that the bullet went right through her face. I looked at it for a while, not smiling, not crying, I was calm.<br />I came back to Vic who apparently was very proud of me. I didn’t tell him about my aunt but I know that my sister couldn’t bear her guilt and told him.<br />That night was what the Texan thought it would be.<br />As I was lying in Vic’s embrace, I heard him shoot again. Did he make up for yesterday’s failure to shoot? That thought was just a manipulation. What I originally thought was if it was my neighbor’s gun that shot to the sky or to his forehead tonight. Turned out later it was the second. And everyone lives with their ghosts.<br /><br /><br /><em><span style="color:#000099;">This is for Wiesia.</span></em>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-18655894109768604702008-03-20T14:29:00.009+02:002008-03-20T15:32:26.697+02:00Skin Deep<object height="80" width="300"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/73T8QHEJnq/aus=false/"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/73T8QHEJnq/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#330033;">S</span>he was gorgeous; with her little silk dress on, a perfect figure, her skin porcelain white. Mozart was her melody. Ballet-dancer.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8LcT6jaDSt7ZA78pfOEbKX5ZN8c_yyiFnWqr1Xdx57GG_FGo79PdOZ3q6dOursTgVgPNxMhwgtYkg5XGai50k7QP9RE_78Vhb7yZXKqM7F9Zq2NHgPH3W4Ta42K54UsJLTw-F/s1600-h/y%2520oil179a.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179805265019463826" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8LcT6jaDSt7ZA78pfOEbKX5ZN8c_yyiFnWqr1Xdx57GG_FGo79PdOZ3q6dOursTgVgPNxMhwgtYkg5XGai50k7QP9RE_78Vhb7yZXKqM7F9Zq2NHgPH3W4Ta42K54UsJLTw-F/s320/y%2520oil179a.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />She was so deeply in love. She'd hear Him read His poems. She'd watch Him play the piano. She was His. And she liked it. Only He could touch her and hold her. He'd whisper to her: “I love you”.<br />"I will become a great musician one day, I promise. I'll compose songs for you. I will do whatever it takes to be happy. And you will always dance to my music", He said to her.<br />"Yes, I'd love that, tell me more", she responded.<br />"I will be rich, we will be rich, my money is yours, take it or leave it", He continued. "Diamonds and pearls, amethysts and opals from the most exotic countries, this is what I am aiming at."<br />"I just want you."<br />He didn't hear her out. He'd just leave sometimes without saying anything, with his eyes looking at the clock like He was late somewhere. She knew His timetable well. But sometimes He would just surprise her. Dancing was her way of forgetting those gaps of time between them. She wondered what He was doing while He was away. Her thoughts and herself was all she had when He was far from her. Picturing Him in her mind, she'd hear Mozart play almost automatically: the pale white skin, the hazel eyes, the brown hair, those long fingers made to play the piano.<br />There were several times when He was sitting there, looking at her with hungry eyes. She was sometimes afraid of that.<br />"You are beautiful. But beauty is only skin deep. Inside, you are empty. You are nothing. You don't have feelings, you don't have emotions. You are a moving emptiness. You are a beautiful emptiness but nothing more. And I love you", He told her.<br />She would feel like crying when He said that to her but that last phrase has always made her forget everything and fall more madly in love.<br />"I love you too", she whispered.<br />Then He touched her body. Slowly, with his fingers, He started touching her face: eyes, nose lips and cheeks. Then He touched her arms and hands, then He went down to touch her breasts and stomach through that beautiful silk dress she loved the most. Then He let her dance for Him. She swirled and turned, just the way He liked it. She watched Him close His eyes at times, feeling the music.<br />He would marry her soon.<br />She waited patiently.<br />He hid the engagement ring in a box that played the Mozart melody. He thought she was so stupid not to notice. She studied the ring very carefully: eternal platinum, with five beautiful stones in it. Diamonds, they call them. She was sure of it. She'd have this ring to herself? Can it be true?</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdqy9Wdw4FKNZe8GxYgev3_VeCoeITSF339Q4vnN4oko3qN63Ax5vHG1K9HOfxTGQinXGbL7Gyb4eYxcRFPpP4sqGC5RQL6AfI_-9YXG142v_lizgrnXOr5IDAKeZXeHKtSGXZ/s1600-h/616_large_side.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179806235682072754" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdqy9Wdw4FKNZe8GxYgev3_VeCoeITSF339Q4vnN4oko3qN63Ax5vHG1K9HOfxTGQinXGbL7Gyb4eYxcRFPpP4sqGC5RQL6AfI_-9YXG142v_lizgrnXOr5IDAKeZXeHKtSGXZ/s200/616_large_side.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />He would go out looking at the clock more often, this always made her worried. She'd peek into the box when He was away to make herself calm down, that He is hers and only hers.<br />***<br />He came back home with The Other She. The Other She was very beautiful but not as beautiful as the ballet-dancer in the silk dress. Not at all. She was sure of it. The Other She wasn't even a dancer. But sometimes The Other She would sing to His songs. He'd touch The Other She's hands. It really hurt her. He didn't know she watched them secretly.<br />"Go out of the room, now", He said strictly to The Other She.<br />The Other She listened to him and left.<br />It was she and Him left in the room. The ballet-dancer and the piano player. A perfect combination.<br />He opened the box, took the ring out of it and kneeled.<br />"I love you. And always loved you. I cherish every moment with you and you are the light when it’s night, the breeze on a hot day and a helping hand when I am in a downfall. I love you. I want to take every step with you and only you. There will never be any other she, only you. I love you. I love you. I love you. Will you... Will you marry me?"<br />"Yes! Yes! Yes! I love you too! I do", she relied with no hesitation.<br />He smiled happily. She was so happy, He let her dance to the beautiful music and He…<br />He just looked away and said: “You can come in now.”<br />The Other She came in and sat down.<br />He kneeled again and said the exact same things to The Other She.<br />The Other She stood up, confused as He put the ring on The Other She’s finger. He was shivering with nervousness.<br />"Yes, I do", said The Other She.<br />He stood up, started to carry The Other She who raised her hands with happiness as ballet-dancer accidentally fell down.<br />"I am so sorry, we can repair her," said The Other She.<br />He looked sad again. "She was the only thing left after my parents."<br />"We can fix her."<br />"No. I won't let a porcelain ballerina on a music box spoil my happiness", he said calmly now.<br />"She was beautiful", The Other She said.<br />"Beauty is only skin deep."<br />She lay there for some hours broken, inside and out. He broke everything in her, even her emptiness.<br />Skin deep.<br />But she was made of porcelain.</div>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-1949114780641993472008-03-15T23:58:00.003+02:002008-03-16T01:20:49.513+02:00Used to<object width="300" height="80"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/0G7kBL4OmH/aus=false/"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/0G7kBL4OmH/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="80" wmode="transparent"></embed></object><br /><div>I'm used to asking you before I decide<br />I'm used to looking ill and wearing your clothes<br />And taking my meds<br />And sometimes overdose<br />I'm used to fighting and feeling annoyed<br />Being the player or being the toy<br /><br />I'm used to hating the same people as you<br />Doing something old and bringing something new<br />I'm used to screaming to turn the TV off<br />I'm used to your logic, headaches and cough<br /><br />I have to get used to the changing times<br />And penalties and loans and debts and fines<br /><br />I have to get used to using the key<br />Instead of ringing the bell<br /><br />Oh and the bags on the way back<br />From the market are as heavy as hell</div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDP8_FX4w-iUbTIhlU7Cu3ViuVu6UoXA3F235ozFaMm0exNb628SXB0HDPhpGTQArgzqgCSzwAgIDDQKHLnBp3z19EDf8Es2V4-GwxcnByPeUICZ6qbKHNwe4q61arub_K9qqR/s1600-h/45694a72sn3k6lz.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178094642298231330" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDP8_FX4w-iUbTIhlU7Cu3ViuVu6UoXA3F235ozFaMm0exNb628SXB0HDPhpGTQArgzqgCSzwAgIDDQKHLnBp3z19EDf8Es2V4-GwxcnByPeUICZ6qbKHNwe4q61arub_K9qqR/s320/45694a72sn3k6lz.jpg" border="0" /></a></div>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-56850920034589484662007-12-29T11:39:00.000+02:002007-12-30T13:22:18.272+02:00On The 29th. [updated]<em><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;"><strong>Hey people!<br /><span style="color:#990000;">I am born. AGAIN.</span></strong></span></em> (I know, right?)<br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;">On the 29th of December some of this happened:</span></div><div><a title="1940" style="color:#000000;"><em><span style="color:#cc0000;">1940</span></span></em></a><span style="color:#000000;"><em> - </em></span><a title="World War II" style="COLOR: #000000"><em>World War II</span></em></a><span style="color:#000000;"><em>: In </em></span><a title="The Second Great Fire of London" style="COLOR: #000000"><em>The Second Great Fire of London</span></em></a><span style="color:#000000;"><em>, the </em></span><a title="Luftwaffe" style="COLOR: #000000"><em>Luftwaffe</span></em></a><span style="color:#000000;"><em> firebombs </em></span><a title="City of London" style="COLOR: #000000"><em>City of London</span></em></a><span style="color:#000000;"><em>, killing almost 200 civilians.</em></span></div><div><em><span style="color:#cc0000;">1972 </span>- <span style="color:#000000;">Jude Law</span></em><a title="Jude Law"><em><span style="color:#000000;">, British actor was born</span></em></a></div><div><em><span style="color:#cc0000;">2001 </span>- <span style="color:#000000;">A massive fire in the historic district of downtown Lima, Peru kills at least 274 people.</span></em> </div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;">Let's observe all the days that I've had the pleasure to be born.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Lil me was born at <span style="font-size:180%;color:#990000;">3.33 PM</span>. That's right. <span style="color:#333300;"><strong>I am only half of the devil. The other half is obviously Lilith :)</strong></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>When I became <em><span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;">12</span></em>, I:</strong></span> </div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZWX2r4GKIgl7O8tAg1_u5FP02_K7M9i1u6MKBiMtIQQbr2NoN9GMLfZOf8yLs5M1lGPgI5wruDc_FlQGDwnKvXNHLxFnjdStbg8rIOu8HowJgoWkRhB9gK4O9xWpm132vJXNy/s1600-h/2000+Edyta%27s+B-Day+ME.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149334454167519122" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZWX2r4GKIgl7O8tAg1_u5FP02_K7M9i1u6MKBiMtIQQbr2NoN9GMLfZOf8yLs5M1lGPgI5wruDc_FlQGDwnKvXNHLxFnjdStbg8rIOu8HowJgoWkRhB9gK4O9xWpm132vJXNy/s320/2000+Edyta%27s+B-Day+ME.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><em>In 2000 I had a pleasant quiet b-day with my friend Maria & Victoria.</em> </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>When I became<span style="color:#cc0000;"> <em><span style="font-size:180%;">16</span></em></span>, I:</strong></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFrTxrcVsl0lYoGwcM4u2aA1BzM0tpG2hV4q0pEtv_UWOyyxjrkVLwTCdtdSghyphenhyphenQFQhmjeqzjXNOiukXoEG0BIJ_YBHg_XlEkPCZa06c5uRDqNzEDEkHf1Qq_DEkPT9hLVUHQm/s1600-h/2004+Edda%27s+B-Day+UFG+Drunk+As+It+Gets.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149334853599477666" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFrTxrcVsl0lYoGwcM4u2aA1BzM0tpG2hV4q0pEtv_UWOyyxjrkVLwTCdtdSghyphenhyphenQFQhmjeqzjXNOiukXoEG0BIJ_YBHg_XlEkPCZa06c5uRDqNzEDEkHf1Qq_DEkPT9hLVUHQm/s320/2004+Edda%27s+B-Day+UFG+Drunk+As+It+Gets.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><em>Was wearing high heels that were hand-made in Italy & cost about <span style="color:#000099;"><strong>1000 Euro</strong></span>. Initially, my mum got them from my aunt & my aunt got them from her best friend, who received them from her husband, who got it as a present from his relative in Moscow to give for his wife, becoz the rightful owner (a rich lady) bought them for herself but what she didnt notice was that the size of the shoes was 35, not 39 as she had. <span style="color:#663366;"><strong>HAH, in ur face, bigfoot!</strong></span></em></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>When I became <span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;">17</span>, I:</strong></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTthOpk9L5C32jQLWYt-WquQsqj4jKnMeuLOk3d8SHQHs4JxW5vsQkpeBneWo69cWkOPpa3cuahVy0dFCWWlg9mVtWgXOckwM87dRVgdGnsqV8ufD8MBtQI0igN1HFM1smHpf/s1600-h/2005+Dyta%27s+B-Day+Agata+Julia+Dyta+Feat.+Kitty.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149335128477384626" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTthOpk9L5C32jQLWYt-WquQsqj4jKnMeuLOk3d8SHQHs4JxW5vsQkpeBneWo69cWkOPpa3cuahVy0dFCWWlg9mVtWgXOckwM87dRVgdGnsqV8ufD8MBtQI0igN1HFM1smHpf/s320/2005+Dyta%27s+B-Day+Agata+Julia+Dyta+Feat.+Kitty.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh83UQoNDiFJqoQhvDe4g6Q7lfEIUv0C5fuEakbdA71yW8vY3TdHPb1lvXkGf2o_oLmCunItg1CvcEuU9YtHnpDuFnY1Fc5A9WOtuk_LPZHGpcpZUpo4mEEp38ub8l4bdp-BsQh/s1600-h/2005+Dyta%27s+B-Day+Piesniary.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149335777017446338" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh83UQoNDiFJqoQhvDe4g6Q7lfEIUv0C5fuEakbdA71yW8vY3TdHPb1lvXkGf2o_oLmCunItg1CvcEuU9YtHnpDuFnY1Fc5A9WOtuk_LPZHGpcpZUpo4mEEp38ub8l4bdp-BsQh/s320/2005+Dyta%27s+B-Day+Piesniary.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><em>Got to wear stockings for the first time & got a Hello Kitty Black Metal Version (or so I call it), sang in the bathtube, pretending the shower was a microphone. Got a beautiful ring from grandma! <strong><span style="color:#ff6666;">(awwww)</span></strong></em></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>When I became <span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"><em>18</em></span>, I:</strong></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK4a5WAf7RweVRfDHhWJrSiuiOHiZnMG5_lUbIlqiAAzvfvjvfbLUY0pb7sXrj5hzjLiyo2blJCxAnQxP65Cy6JoCKhB7dLxLH9otdKjMH5KlYxoJINYxXDI42YPkkWnNtBbwE/s1600-h/2006+Edyta%27s+B-Day+Killin+Julia.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149335974585941970" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK4a5WAf7RweVRfDHhWJrSiuiOHiZnMG5_lUbIlqiAAzvfvjvfbLUY0pb7sXrj5hzjLiyo2blJCxAnQxP65Cy6JoCKhB7dLxLH9otdKjMH5KlYxoJINYxXDI42YPkkWnNtBbwE/s320/2006+Edyta%27s+B-Day+Killin+Julia.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLgoW0UMJoWnm9zW1A2elu66EMbeMy6wWwp_E-T69kLM7A6zLk2jFC8ie9j8CGf6kqmAT-lo_VnZFLe02NDtey8dZIN7U821YaBCKYh6sQZDlmWjMVFmF-Q3IgbxWaWIhCpIJL/s1600-h/2006+Edyta%27s+B-Day+The+Hot+Guys.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149336429852475362" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLgoW0UMJoWnm9zW1A2elu66EMbeMy6wWwp_E-T69kLM7A6zLk2jFC8ie9j8CGf6kqmAT-lo_VnZFLe02NDtey8dZIN7U821YaBCKYh6sQZDlmWjMVFmF-Q3IgbxWaWIhCpIJL/s320/2006+Edyta%27s+B-Day+The+Hot+Guys.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><em>Had my own <span style="font-family:georgia;color:#330033;"><strong>harem</strong></span>. Watched <span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:180%;color:#000099;">porn</span>. Got another beautiful ring from grandma. <span style="font-size:180%;"><strong><span style="color:#990000;">My room was called the temple of a goddess</span></strong>.</span> Got a kamasutra. Got the most precious gift from my boyfriend. Got a Swarovski necklace from dad. Danced to arabic songs. Had a huge blast. Seriously man.</em></span><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000000;"><strong>When I became <span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;">19</span>, I:</strong></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYxEJwJ9NObp0E8sagSY1H611UmzzchhqGq-hHyhRVcOgMrvWl5llDmWq6ChSYMhfq4J1GjFOaq1Zo5WruMeEHae8piD-8VxjIJqDsJp_HEr5mlOItBT06RAIHph_Yez43Dt-t/s1600-h/2007+Homecoming+3+B-Day+(11).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149721523754061090" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYxEJwJ9NObp0E8sagSY1H611UmzzchhqGq-hHyhRVcOgMrvWl5llDmWq6ChSYMhfq4J1GjFOaq1Zo5WruMeEHae8piD-8VxjIJqDsJp_HEr5mlOItBT06RAIHph_Yez43Dt-t/s320/2007+Homecoming+3+B-Day+(11).JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjuIFR0K6DZV974wTGE3z4nkTZ5P_DwIF6pFjqAjHmPCjzd5A7qxoCRmaG7N04g7sbANvWuQJmZpETY4lpaT3zkb0a_bDkYY9TIyWevB7EZwq9LXCMHU_9bqMPl8eBtWDKzl4F/s1600-h/2007+Homecoming+3+B-Day+(19).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149721931775954226" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjuIFR0K6DZV974wTGE3z4nkTZ5P_DwIF6pFjqAjHmPCjzd5A7qxoCRmaG7N04g7sbANvWuQJmZpETY4lpaT3zkb0a_bDkYY9TIyWevB7EZwq9LXCMHU_9bqMPl8eBtWDKzl4F/s320/2007+Homecoming+3+B-Day+(19).JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaoi4t57twWy0cZG3P769Z23zSkiDTBkuGgq5LGJvPDGI14RFcjxsBxomNs4Pp_DcYPdxwgNHzDwM2-vzOVlo-0cdkQM2mx8KlvlGkEMxPXGAKxSZKl_51MDeCCtnhPmDzRvwS/s1600-h/P1000215.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149722159409220930" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaoi4t57twWy0cZG3P769Z23zSkiDTBkuGgq5LGJvPDGI14RFcjxsBxomNs4Pp_DcYPdxwgNHzDwM2-vzOVlo-0cdkQM2mx8KlvlGkEMxPXGAKxSZKl_51MDeCCtnhPmDzRvwS/s320/P1000215.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh84Jsk3h_DIL57VQmhL1dSoNf6a5p6GIHh8is8ieW7hf3FSS-ga2AhuZMD7iyOC2HEnUGR9b5yIiMRsFnGWXhhMKBHOwPHxP_bC-jL-XBO1ldLsO2QHDjRO5-65kGNw6dEgljm/s1600-h/P1000222.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149722399927389522" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh84Jsk3h_DIL57VQmhL1dSoNf6a5p6GIHh8is8ieW7hf3FSS-ga2AhuZMD7iyOC2HEnUGR9b5yIiMRsFnGWXhhMKBHOwPHxP_bC-jL-XBO1ldLsO2QHDjRO5-65kGNw6dEgljm/s320/P1000222.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;">I celebrated in 2 countries: Lithuania & The United Kingdom. Any excuse to dress up will do. Got a huge postcard. A huge retro picture from friends. Flowers.<span style="color:#ff6666;"><strong> <span style="color:#cc33cc;">Hello Kitty Necklace</span></strong></span>. Fluffy handcuffs :D <span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>other Retro stuff</strong></span>. <em>I was told i was 18 eternally</em> :)<br /></span></div></div><div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><em>Sometimes I wonder, how will people tell other people about me:"<strong>You know, I had a friend called Edyta & she was...</strong>" I just wonder what was I.</em></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#993399;"><strong>Pink Floyd - Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Pt 1 & 2)</strong></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com44tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-6417039581308080062007-08-19T23:38:00.000+03:002007-08-20T00:02:38.922+03:00{missing you}<object width="300" height="80"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/hf1RlCiuCU/aus=false/"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/hf1RlCiuCU/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="80" wmode="transparent"></embed></object><br />There's too much air<br />And the bed is too wide<br />It's even comfortable<br />There's a lot of food<br />And extra time for church<br />And a prayer or two<br />I don't blow dry my hair<br />And I sleep too much<br />There's no sudden soft touch<br />To wake me up<br />And no embrace to escape from<br /><br />I answer my phone calls<br />I even call some back<br />I don't close the bathroom door<br />Nobody's going to watch<br />And my bras are on the floor<br />I've never picked them up<br />You did.<br />Some material things are left:<br />Losses, notes, laundry, theft.<br />If rain is just a weather<br />Not even a mood<br />That's when I know<br />I'm missing you<br />But you said it was ok<br />That we could choose another date<br />To meet.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6zUstWbKJu2-ypTpXU-Ef8dnELFKTCWygt8-bAHzeaGf9E2SmxE0qsADpPot3WLHKdDiMhjSrAFT_WMG3ytwyxQQlWIvqDiCI6nUONCznBfM7Knr9ny95-q92ifu7qE5ozAtA/s1600-h/182144ybk95u6k6x.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100518756660385650" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6zUstWbKJu2-ypTpXU-Ef8dnELFKTCWygt8-bAHzeaGf9E2SmxE0qsADpPot3WLHKdDiMhjSrAFT_WMG3ytwyxQQlWIvqDiCI6nUONCznBfM7Knr9ny95-q92ifu7qE5ozAtA/s320/182144ybk95u6k6x.jpg" border="0" /></a></p>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com92tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-62779260349412488312007-08-09T21:46:00.000+03:002007-08-09T22:35:25.536+03:00...And about PhotographyHave u noticed?<br /><div><div><div><div><div><em><strong>THEN</strong></em></div><div>Almost everyne is sooo cool, has a digital camera. Except for mw.</div><div>Earlier ppl would make 3 or 4 pics to remember a b-day party or a vacation by a simple camera. & they would be happy. & they were all so excited & they loved themselves on pics. even if they looked like shit.</div><div><em><strong>NOW</strong></em></div><div>I look like shit on this pic. Delete it.</div><div>Plz, can u make a pic for us. Thank you. Wait. Dont go away. We will see if it suits us.</div><div>Oh, can u RAR it or ZIP it. It takes waaay too long for me to wait to see 'em.</div><div>We can see all of my spots on the pix!</div><div>Nah. I don't like myself here. Let's use photoshop.</div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Stop!</strong></span></div><div>I want to cure myself cuz i have been affected by all of this mass picture perfect ideal.</div><div>But i have noticed that u can make really cool artsy pics without actually making a nose smaller, eyes bigger, boobs bigger - whatever! </div><div>I am so thankful to Yorkie, who doesnt really care abt looks on pics. (unlike u, BITCH - yes i heard that) He is just happy cuz there is a possibility to make a pic in general. & that's so sweet. U always can make a funky edge to a pic, by making it black & white or serpia, or dark, or faded. But never change who u really are. These were my trials. Let's have a look.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0D6suXlfGV19pBVicYelR3KCY910AoDRNOTaDFRJY_PhiBWJ-L_dTe4AKMYxJ6x6qB76vXHV_nPvhgKKNkYouwyYFMjoWb3jBn8a3Me-5jENmJtLlJ5gJKhefBdMpfJhEgdJk/s1600-h/2007+Tarantino"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096780455624830626" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0D6suXlfGV19pBVicYelR3KCY910AoDRNOTaDFRJY_PhiBWJ-L_dTe4AKMYxJ6x6qB76vXHV_nPvhgKKNkYouwyYFMjoWb3jBn8a3Me-5jENmJtLlJ5gJKhefBdMpfJhEgdJk/s320/2007+Tarantino%27s+Death+Proof+Afterviewing+(6).JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju5YruwQk_OAeZ5BnUOnvw1QIxwmGQ3Pbr7tqUX9cCixZCqFUF2hzZO5IFZHGibuiVQKmdxorR4gbHpHHjXMUAoNEJ4DYVCjPGz1dViQr1B-QpRoGi6gToA-hAidKJzM3aPEkD/s1600-h/2007+Tarantino"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096780910891364018" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju5YruwQk_OAeZ5BnUOnvw1QIxwmGQ3Pbr7tqUX9cCixZCqFUF2hzZO5IFZHGibuiVQKmdxorR4gbHpHHjXMUAoNEJ4DYVCjPGz1dViQr1B-QpRoGi6gToA-hAidKJzM3aPEkD/s320/2007+Tarantino%27s+Death+Proof+Afterviewing+(8).JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_M0yjuWo2KEqiOFW1yusXoik2MY_iorq7_O-bFRKXeU-yJwGpbOZW2sLIHzuOvvpt0cn-gVqoKbpVjO_yuAA0YBcU0GJTcL2rODM3HqiK9pIezMpWlN40AbLlhhK-Juukjq5V/s1600-h/2007+Tarantino"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096781834309332674" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_M0yjuWo2KEqiOFW1yusXoik2MY_iorq7_O-bFRKXeU-yJwGpbOZW2sLIHzuOvvpt0cn-gVqoKbpVjO_yuAA0YBcU0GJTcL2rODM3HqiK9pIezMpWlN40AbLlhhK-Juukjq5V/s320/2007+Tarantino%27s+Death+Proof+Afterviewing+(9).JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYdNOi414S9fva7YR4LN2oKpooRokTuspE31M2gGBeJWLN_oIVff0JMGhv2SHMFC69w5XNU1Bnkx1Ler8FYmSj-A1vZPZvT3nGKf3UyMFXMV8Pq0hHZkOxW4X7fpRFNfyhXwdt/s1600-h/DSC03397.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096783440627101394" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYdNOi414S9fva7YR4LN2oKpooRokTuspE31M2gGBeJWLN_oIVff0JMGhv2SHMFC69w5XNU1Bnkx1Ler8FYmSj-A1vZPZvT3nGKf3UyMFXMV8Pq0hHZkOxW4X7fpRFNfyhXwdt/s320/DSC03397.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKmaDeWEtegC8vzjjjuDGCsXDO0SuaNospJOboVPXAQWBENh99YnaNuQZ7y2emyLz0SLbX6rI6JwT2ZnkUBCHD23NcXQE4IlGbRIrvRY69GQoiO7lbrc7s9LjtaL_KKauiXPwU/s1600-h/DSC03405.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096783797109386978" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKmaDeWEtegC8vzjjjuDGCsXDO0SuaNospJOboVPXAQWBENh99YnaNuQZ7y2emyLz0SLbX6rI6JwT2ZnkUBCHD23NcXQE4IlGbRIrvRY69GQoiO7lbrc7s9LjtaL_KKauiXPwU/s320/DSC03405.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_8Yrmj0jn4s3TALU1UAg4WYuakkkkyWQL_OhYZbo21ENBzVdj64ksAQ5W3HvuvQJLdVTx1qtetsKc08eUbcWTFOdcLJOfLsAJJZayftxBZDQ9P8GIPynbAkdMvSXrGMhBB-Ce/s1600-h/DSC03402a.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096784149296705266" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_8Yrmj0jn4s3TALU1UAg4WYuakkkkyWQL_OhYZbo21ENBzVdj64ksAQ5W3HvuvQJLdVTx1qtetsKc08eUbcWTFOdcLJOfLsAJJZayftxBZDQ9P8GIPynbAkdMvSXrGMhBB-Ce/s320/DSC03402a.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div></div><div>PS. Tak, Hart, to update na odczepnego.</div><div>PPS.Welcome Eric313! HUGS!</div><div></div><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;">NOW LET'S ALL GO HUG YORKIE!</span></em></strong></div></div></div></div></div>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com44tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-42603429110746316052007-08-05T14:14:00.000+03:002007-08-05T22:25:00.556+03:00We ARE We. & We're different. We <3 it.<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Guess what?<br /></strong></span><div></div><div>I've been awarded yet again. </div><div>*~By <a href="http://crashedsite.blogspot.com/">Crashie</a> (oooh such a sweetheart)</div><div>"Cuz she is such a lil’ sunshine & so incredibly talented that she blows my mind. Just thinking about her makes me grin. And who could not just adore her avatar!"<br />*~ By <a href="http://curryegg.blogspot.com/">Curryegg</a> (she's adowable)</div><div>"She's such a cute and lovely blogger. Everyone loves her. So, this is why you deserve this award."</div><div>Thanx so much, girls. You both are awesome.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2IkIxCd7ybgtgjOLpLmSm18_831ZZ6zG_pdC48B7fxHFEAojnWK7ivGecBczw9OVh7fGvcjux4sbZu6z5j4qZ2toNHuLtrg3IcFU9GmwfWNHFzc-V9Xk3pUvhvXPPsmYze70c/s1600-h/1099023.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095175211597950578" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2IkIxCd7ybgtgjOLpLmSm18_831ZZ6zG_pdC48B7fxHFEAojnWK7ivGecBczw9OVh7fGvcjux4sbZu6z5j4qZ2toNHuLtrg3IcFU9GmwfWNHFzc-V9Xk3pUvhvXPPsmYze70c/s320/1099023.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>But you know what?</div><div>I am Vain. You heard me. VAIN. That's why i decided to make my own award to thank all of you, who read my boringass notes & left comments & was there for me. The rules of my award are sooo simple. </div><div><strong><span style="color:#990000;">*~</span></strong>Grab this award, upload it & enjoy it.</div><div><span style="color:#990000;"><strong>*~</strong></span>When u feel the time has come; make up ur own award & give it to the ppl u adore :) it can be in a year, it can be tomorrow. It can never be. U decide. Here it is:</div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBN01_vn9_5MMfjxM21fYminu-iriA4bsmiX74PGSqSbAMzts6IDsdzLZ5BsjKReWNrsRqf8Kym3y54CuTRQ_NMoYOGKNlvMeRZMv49SSybFMSaG0igVC6bwQtdJXHeMNmi_wo/s1600-h/I"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095175443526184578" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBN01_vn9_5MMfjxM21fYminu-iriA4bsmiX74PGSqSbAMzts6IDsdzLZ5BsjKReWNrsRqf8Kym3y54CuTRQ_NMoYOGKNlvMeRZMv49SSybFMSaG0igVC6bwQtdJXHeMNmi_wo/s320/I'm+Original+Award.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div><strong><span style="color:#990000;">IMPORTANT</span></strong>: U R A receiver of my award, if ur name is:</div><div>*~ <a href="http://unfaithful-to-rats.blogspot.com/">Agata</a> - she is my <em><span style="color:#339999;">ultimate</span></em> best friend. & she is awesome. & when i hear her say: "Edyta, you are an evil/cruel woman" I tend to think it was a compliment.</div><div>*~ <a href="http://thealchemistsgold.blogspot.com/">Berna</a> - she is sooo creative & <span style="color:#330099;"><em>philosophical</em></span>. A deep thinker. I love her for that.</div><div>*~ <a href="http://bridesmaid-to-be.blogspot.com/">Caz</a> - even when she's grumpy, i am 100 % sure she's <span style="color:#663366;"><em>funny</em></span>. She always makes me laugh.</div><div>*~ <a href="http://crashedsite.blogspot.com/">Crashie</a> - she is a <span style="color:#cc33cc;"><em>sweeeeeeeetie</em></span>. Definitely. I bet she can make salt taste sweet.</div><div>*~ <a href="http://curryegg.blogspot.com/">Curryegg</a> - i LOVE her pics. She always has a <span style="color:#993300;"><em>surprise </em></span>for us installed. We all love to see pics of places we havent been before & decide on visiting them ;)</div><div>*~ <a href="http://dabalogh.blogspot.com/">Dan</a> - I think "Dan" is the other word for "<span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>caring</em></span> & energetic".</div><div>*~ <a href="http://drama-diva.blogspot.com/">Drama Div@</a> - I love her mood button :) & she is full of<em> <span style="color:#ff6666;">positive</span></em> energy that makes her readers smile. I should KNOW!</div><div>*~ <a href="http://gledwood2.blogspot.com/">Gled</a> - for the honesty. This guys is <em><span style="color:#33ff33;">frank</span></em> & candid. Doesn't hide anything. Always has an opinion to share :)</div><div>*~ <a href="http://lifeonthefarside.blogspot.com/">Hart </a>- she is so sexily <span style="color:#990000;"><em>feminime</em></span>. A talented writer & her drawings are amazing :) the perfect chatpal for those cold evenings when ur hand freezes while clicking the mouse.</div><div>*~ <a href="http://cynicalbstd.blogspot.com/">Jay</a> - I am sooo sure if i made a "SAVE TEQUILA" campaign, he'd be the first to join it. Haha. This guy always makes everyone smile. I said <span style="color:#993300;"><em>ALWAYS</em></span>.</div><div>*~ <a href="http://graylenses.blogspot.com/">Joshua</a> - i admire his writings & his sense of humor. & POEMS! One of the most <span style="color:#000000;"><em>creative</em></span> ppl on the blogosphere.</div><div>*~ <a href="http://feel-alive.blogspot.com/">Julia</a> - mah soulmate. Mah<em> <span style="color:#ff6600;">gangsta</span></em>. Mah P.I.M.P. Mah homie. Good girl gone bad :D</div><div>*~ <a href="http://kaotheimmortal.blogspot.com/">Kao</a> - let's go & face it: his writing is <span style="color:#660000;"><em>sexy</em></span>. He very very creative & friendly :) what a sweet combination of both words.</div><div>*~ <a href="http://www.a-journey-within.blogspot.com/">Ravi</a> - I'm his fan. Incredibly <em><span style="color:#00cccc;">talented</span></em>, honest & kind-hearted. These people are rare nowadays. I'm lucky to have a chatmate like that.</div><div>*~ <a href="http://creativealchemy.blogspot.com/">String</a> - the person to whom I am for some reason <em><span style="color:#ff0000;">connected</span></em>! Maybe because i adore her way of thinking & her pics? Most probably.</div><div>*~ <a href="http://invernokl.blogspot.com/">Xian</a> - the <span style="color:#999900;"><em>best</em></span> bro in the whole world! I think i wouldn't bear living with him cuz i'd choke up with laughter! He's da sunshine after da rain! (& no, u r not getting those adies)<br /><br />I hope you all like the award <em>becoz u all r original</em>. <strong>ThanX GAWD</strong> i decided to write a blog back in the day :)</div><div><em>PS. OMG! I already got my own award back @ me. Haha. The Blogosphere is a crazy thing :D</em></div>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com41tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-3844731073520337972007-07-28T13:07:00.000+03:002007-07-28T15:16:58.733+03:00Hints Of Erotica [2007]<object width="300" height="80"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/8AqGVdT-sv/aus=false/"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/8AqGVdT-sv/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="80" wmode="transparent"></embed></object><br /><div><strong>Well,<br />There are sometimes sheets<br />When it's colder, of course<br />Then there is a silhouette<br />That is seen with closed eyes<br />And a taste of sweat<br />Hints of erotica<br /><br />Then there is a voice<br />So helpless<br />And vivid visions<br />Of passion, lust and indulgence<br />One is a disease<br />Another - the antidote<br />Total interference<br />Predictable roads<br />And a hint of erotica<br /><br />The journey is to lessen the distance<br />Between the two<br />By smiles, gestures<br />And secrets<br />Between me and you<br />With a hint of erotica<br /><br />You see,<br />Sometimes we merge<br />pornographically<br />It's faster and safer:<br />No time to embarrass<br />one's a giver, the other's a taker<br />no time for erotica.<br /><br />You see,<br />It takes courage<br />to allow the breaking<br />of boundaries between us<br />It also takes talent<br />of persuasion<br />with slight hints of erotica<br /><br />See,<br />the journey isn't over<br />if there is no distance<br />because the two roads converge.<br />Aims, visions, goals<br />inevitable thoughts<br />In a word:<br />pleasure is for those who<br />will forever be caught<br />In chains of sensual erotica.<br /></strong></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiaWQv3dwEp81Ysv7rtZKrcPGeMiOu0WfIQTxccc3jnV5FgnROVU8M69j-jU6alRs0Esbgr7p3ZF8GRD_AIHlUaebnV1K3Ah4X7Igzw-QXzxdUnaUGvyAocAvtNZGoYZqM_kSb/s1600-h/wom_anatomies_geometry.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092191596601667170" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiaWQv3dwEp81Ysv7rtZKrcPGeMiOu0WfIQTxccc3jnV5FgnROVU8M69j-jU6alRs0Esbgr7p3ZF8GRD_AIHlUaebnV1K3Ah4X7Igzw-QXzxdUnaUGvyAocAvtNZGoYZqM_kSb/s320/wom_anatomies_geometry.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><span style="color:#990000;">Art by Luis Royo</span></div>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com58tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-29802476735477112062007-07-19T13:17:00.000+03:002007-07-19T14:05:11.172+03:00Foohmal-Impooohtant-Paaahties :D~<span style="font-size:180%;"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;">Hey!</span></strong><br /></span><div><div>Yes, I am aware that I suck. Haha. Well, I havent been around cuz of that PROM, the preparations, all those documents for further plans, blah blah. It's been exciting, it's been boring. As usual. Well, this is what I wanna do today. Share some pics.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9P_OetM9yB6z0c__WIooaDDgdztzH7XE96F3x5-o7eMdrpoLgonZtycpg73vEOLpexe0pDHNeB9G1ZQ1-kQkjWYiGactHEEpsBxcsbBJYi0WODic-q4i6XfThv7diqQ7dn01U/s1600-h/2007-02-03+Studniowka+Banda.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088851013513187986" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9P_OetM9yB6z0c__WIooaDDgdztzH7XE96F3x5-o7eMdrpoLgonZtycpg73vEOLpexe0pDHNeB9G1ZQ1-kQkjWYiGactHEEpsBxcsbBJYi0WODic-q4i6XfThv7diqQ7dn01U/s320/2007-02-03+Studniowka+Banda.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><div><div><div><div><div>Wait, wait. This is not the prom. This is pre-prom. We call it the 100 days party. It was held in winter & it meant that we had 100 days till we finish our schooling. Find me, find me? I'm the middle one. Yup, the red lip one. YES. I AM old-fashioned. :D</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvh6N7Rf0k-LXlWvwlAQb84OsTwq2Z8X6uEfQ6yROidVwmJjfWj5fJUAK6vncU8f0U7AWSY42JSePtpNfQArFPzpjmKj05ksEzSNwXT1_S2xkhPryj6LpyQw5bn06MEpdauHSJ/s1600-h/2007-02-03+Studniowka+Dyta+&+Zbynia.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088851863916712610" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvh6N7Rf0k-LXlWvwlAQb84OsTwq2Z8X6uEfQ6yROidVwmJjfWj5fJUAK6vncU8f0U7AWSY42JSePtpNfQArFPzpjmKj05ksEzSNwXT1_S2xkhPryj6LpyQw5bn06MEpdauHSJ/s320/2007-02-03+Studniowka+Dyta+%26+Zbynia.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This is myself & a good friend of mine - Zbynia! Ya know, when we were little, we were all weird-o kids. Zbynia, when not understood, was saying: 'You don't understand me just cuz I am intelectually higher than all of you.' We couldnt NOT agree :) We ALL r Zbynia's fans. He dances DIVINE. We r always waiting till Zbynia start to moonwalk.</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzyWZg9DOTHG179hsZ0dilaldiir_EKk6T-GeOC36H06iof4UNA0lbGqhln30ubGEY9tHkrVah0A_kSFfY45w5Nix2AhwkhLP-zt6P413pgbjZctyjUSodl7ByYNtKMXs44eBl/s1600-h/IMG_7809a.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088853388630102706" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzyWZg9DOTHG179hsZ0dilaldiir_EKk6T-GeOC36H06iof4UNA0lbGqhln30ubGEY9tHkrVah0A_kSFfY45w5Nix2AhwkhLP-zt6P413pgbjZctyjUSodl7ByYNtKMXs44eBl/s320/IMG_7809a.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Welcome to our prom. This is myself & my fave talented photographer - Eric. I just got to know him may haps 2 years ago. DARN! He's awesome! Most of the time our opinions merge or r the same in general :D & I can't frget the meaningfyl badge that he got us in Poland:<em> "I put this badge on when I have everyone IN MY ASS"</em> Woohooo!</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkpioUzRD9eEoiuMVKLVj5YYUhtb2uQFtmrMNw1e3eVAb-5vUm1R4-nBpj3OIijeQfbtz7H_7qyDLG2zpz-FnT6Th5j0exSk9T6kNVdJv788Ik2l_aic-QyL_Yhr5DNTFOwmKD/s1600-h/DSC02771.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088854827444146882" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkpioUzRD9eEoiuMVKLVj5YYUhtb2uQFtmrMNw1e3eVAb-5vUm1R4-nBpj3OIijeQfbtz7H_7qyDLG2zpz-FnT6Th5j0exSk9T6kNVdJv788Ik2l_aic-QyL_Yhr5DNTFOwmKD/s320/DSC02771.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This is us with our history teacher. He's surname is the same as mine. & not Agata, I am NOT his daughter (finger) :D but he was an awesome person. Yes, at his lessons mostly i would fall asleep. Just awaken now & then by Agata. Haha. I drew loadsa things during his lessons. Anywho, during history i mostly did everything except for history itself :D ewww! Naughty :D</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNapXdHBUR2kWvYnuKBtXt8Hoi3drE1qo0UKFbjL9X5PgO4SLKW0ixghXTdlXwLKHszUrvl7jQ1gPg1kHAQHADAdwumwfFLqTMGseK8T2PkuQ7Ul4iasrd9l0kO4rlTzxZuYBE/s1600-h/DSC02774.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088856038624924370" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNapXdHBUR2kWvYnuKBtXt8Hoi3drE1qo0UKFbjL9X5PgO4SLKW0ixghXTdlXwLKHszUrvl7jQ1gPg1kHAQHADAdwumwfFLqTMGseK8T2PkuQ7Ul4iasrd9l0kO4rlTzxZuYBE/s320/DSC02774.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div>This Maria, Zbynia & myself. This is inside the RESTAURANT, Hah. Some ppl were poisoned becoz of the RESTAURANT'S most delish meals. Myself & Agata were fine. Becoz our digestive system can beat everything. Take that, BITCH! :D</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirjbTEGlHNDC1Ty9Q2xoWQpF2_JLmi0KfsAifZ92emIhexOAHrbb9Dd5UPoUPxTKiYXlGUIUBn99oWYISKfhbemzOly6CwqVmgAx15n2HAcu49z_562_-Qeg-xlBauKKjfljci/s1600-h/IMG_7815a.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088857606287987426" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirjbTEGlHNDC1Ty9Q2xoWQpF2_JLmi0KfsAifZ92emIhexOAHrbb9Dd5UPoUPxTKiYXlGUIUBn99oWYISKfhbemzOly6CwqVmgAx15n2HAcu49z_562_-Qeg-xlBauKKjfljci/s320/IMG_7815a.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Yes, this is how i looked in general. Observe. HAHA. Ewww, <em>pervs</em>. :D</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO9ngAPmvoUg0jAzJWOXUI3_2PoNOjDQo1RSX9dWAn-TSj8DAexroebnPT0u9Uoc1s9bTwhZT1uy53bc4-AHWTTHHFxRZksV8SpeOJZ8Sd9Z2039tzNiK-woTJOqTC_CAsMzwU/s1600-h/DSC02783.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088858302072689394" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO9ngAPmvoUg0jAzJWOXUI3_2PoNOjDQo1RSX9dWAn-TSj8DAexroebnPT0u9Uoc1s9bTwhZT1uy53bc4-AHWTTHHFxRZksV8SpeOJZ8Sd9Z2039tzNiK-woTJOqTC_CAsMzwU/s320/DSC02783.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div>This is me & my class teacher. This was a person who always told me I looked great. Haha. Even if i looked like shit. She never even taught me. Maybe that's why I kinda liked her. Becoz i knew her as a person, not a teacher :D</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZxS9T70qB1jmbpNf4K8nY11XgSRNv-vqlbt93ecdxjQxHIW-hZeZa3aqnyWQvRd994PLs05PpPXl90WY-u68z_asw1ptM8q84gHo0v_lPiveuafhO1Mv_NpI45B523Jdd6C23/s1600-h/DSC02778.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088859251260461826" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZxS9T70qB1jmbpNf4K8nY11XgSRNv-vqlbt93ecdxjQxHIW-hZeZa3aqnyWQvRd994PLs05PpPXl90WY-u68z_asw1ptM8q84gHo0v_lPiveuafhO1Mv_NpI45B523Jdd6C23/s320/DSC02778.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div>& the standart: photo with Zbynia :D Zbynia rox :D</div><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><em>So these were the fohhrmal-impooohtant-paahhhties :D This is what I've been up to whilst i was away :D Hope you forgive me for rudely vanishing. I'll be back soon with a fresh new poem or story :)</em></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-83960615751689041822007-06-18T19:18:00.000+03:002007-06-19T20:17:51.859+03:00}~~The Circus~~{<embed id="radioblog_player_0" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" width="180" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#FFFF00" flashvars="id=0&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen?u=vMHZuV3bz9yZvxmYu8WakFmcvInZuUWZyZmLykjcllGZs92c/Djails%2520circus%2520thme.rbs&cover=1&crossfader=1&replay=1&colors=body:#FFFF00;border:#FF0033;button:#FF00CC;player_text:#FF00FF;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeOQVV-2B9oJ2aFaUJNvhoqUqXExilNPGu7MaNen-z7ZQPuYI7GTWHFGjj6uBGVQeT87wFRkSGyMm1P74vTU5pOntCArlrgNUd5vKEFPFetULxNcvNBAkLGEG7Xd6Q7LAFtJ4r/s1600-h/Circus.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077449224215018706" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeOQVV-2B9oJ2aFaUJNvhoqUqXExilNPGu7MaNen-z7ZQPuYI7GTWHFGjj6uBGVQeT87wFRkSGyMm1P74vTU5pOntCArlrgNUd5vKEFPFetULxNcvNBAkLGEG7Xd6Q7LAFtJ4r/s320/Circus.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />'Ladies and gentlemen! Everyone! Step right up and see the show! You shall never regret! The most beautiful exotic dancers! The funniest elephant of all time! The dancing wolves! The most hilarious clowns you will ever see!' <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgktW8bsI6TrsCkehj8KKtfrGC0y8A18uinsZcqRqW5oR2N7z-jsQcNTHSydIwbMNjV7ICAammSprh_BNaCgLhR_b-B2L_06MhxrFYlZDAA9vbLa8F_YyNK5YssUyo_azooptqG/s1600-h/circus01.jpg"></a><br />'And don't forget the mimes! They are here all the time!' a clown interrupted.<br />'That's right! This is our youngest clown, Tickles! And this is our French mime Lucy! Are you in a box, Lucy?' the Host continued.<br />The girl wearing black and white raised her hands showing people there were walls around her. She made a desperate face as if she wanted to escape but she couldn't. And the musicians started to play louder. The music was bizarre and almost painful. Children, women, men were entering the circus.<br />'See Mickey the scariest lion! Leonidia, the woman who can perform the most dangerous trapeze act of all time! Step right up, my friends! The experience we offer isn't something that you shall forget!'<br />Leonidia. From her little dressing room in that circus truck she heard him curse her. She heard him wishing she'd die. Now he says that she can do the most dangerous trapeze act of all time. Mister Host, sir. She knew it was her last act. The circus has gone bankrupt since a new movie theatre opened nearby. No one wants to see the same old acts over and over again. Her eyes were so teary. One by one they were falling down her cheeks.<br /><em><strong>Smile, damn it. This is what I chose.</strong><br /></em>So she put another layer of make-up to cover that spoiled one. Spoiled by tears. Leonidia kept smiling to her self. She did it while performing, before the performance. But not after. After the performance she'd wash her mask off and become Patricia. It was her real name. She was Patricia only once a day and only to herself. All the rest knew her as Leonidia. The trapeze artist.<br /><em><strong>What's next? The circus was my home.</strong></em><br />She put on her diamond-like necklace that always glittered in the lights as she was performing. She looked at her reflection in the mirror.<br /><strong><em>Should I become a maid or something. Leonidia the maid.</em><br /></strong>She smiled to herself ironically and looked left. It was almost time.<br /><em><strong>I've always been alone. Maybe I should find a man that I could marry. Then again, would I ever find such a man? I'd most likely end up in the streets. And I don't like family life. I am just traveler. Maybe I should join the Gypsies? They live nearby anyway. Hah. I;d end up with 10 children and HIV. Telling some naive girls the future: Aiii seeee eevill things awaiting you in yourrr futurrree, dearrry. BEWARRE of ze Gypsiee currrse! I crack myself up!</strong></em><br />She laughed out.<br />'Leonidia! 3 minutes!' said Tickles the clown<br />'Yes, I am ready Tickles.'<br /><em>That clown sure doesn't sound like a clown anymore.</em><br />'We're throwing an after party. We've got all the rum you can drink.'<br />'Thanks, Tickles. See you after the show.'<br />'I love you, Leonidia.'<br /><em><strong>Naive twit.</strong></em><br />'We're circus people. We are family. But we don't love.' She said, putting a white, 15 meter scarf around herself. It's a part of her act.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJpP7tzgsxRTXml4RqbgnT9uDlkRuREahyphenhyphenzBFxzUE8aeVp93P7o5CYmhulNUHva3i_0Y11I0CCVMT-OBIR0lQxq5C8pAph7HA7TJjN9B7LXmTx-BkZhBzcLKXYvPqokFtR-UQb/s1600-h/01_med.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077449962949393634" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJpP7tzgsxRTXml4RqbgnT9uDlkRuREahyphenhyphenzBFxzUE8aeVp93P7o5CYmhulNUHva3i_0Y11I0CCVMT-OBIR0lQxq5C8pAph7HA7TJjN9B7LXmTx-BkZhBzcLKXYvPqokFtR-UQb/s320/01_med.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><strong>I</strong><em><strong> always hate my life while I put this around me.<br /></strong></em>'Shall I help you, Patricia?'<br />'You shall go, John.'<br />He left. She told him off once again. This talk paradoxically gave her energy to go through her act. See the Host and even smile at him.<br />'How I hate him' she said through her teeth, smiling. Always smiling. A clown is always laughed at not realizing why. That's why he is funny. The artists are always smiling, realizing that everyone is looking at them. That's why they are exotic and admirable but not in any way funny. Girls watching dancers and acrobats are inspired by them. No girl has ever wanted to become a clown. Has anyone ever seen female clowns? Rarely.<br /><em><strong>The last second before the act: always smile to yourself in the mirror .Even if you are betrayed. Hated. And your life is miserable. Always smile. Leonidia shall leave the stage smiling as she always has been.<br /></strong></em>She left her dressing room, struggling to walk in that scarf. She saw the exotic dancer after her act. She was a girl from India. A former prostitute. She was holding her mouthpiece and crying. The Host got her good.<br />'He hit you again?' Leonidia asked and the girl nodded.<br />Patricia breathed in for a second and took the girl’s mouthpiece. She smoked only in situations when she wanted to look cool but was scared to death.<br /><strong><em>This means he will beat up good after the show.</em><br /></strong>'I am happy it's his last chance to steal our money. This is our last show. Tickles is offering rum to everyone tonight. Be a pirate!' Leonidia told the girl.<br />The girl smiled and went towards the clown's dressing room.<br />'Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the most beautiful trapeze artist of all time, Leonidia!'<br />The crowd cheered, clapped, whistled, screamed. She started to feel the vibe. The entered gracefully, smiling as she always did.<br /><em><strong>I hope you die!</strong></em><br />'What is your today's act, Leonidia? Isn't she gorgeous, gentlemen?'<br /><em><strong>Ain't you a bastard.</strong></em><br />The crowd applauded.<br />'Thank you, thank you', Leonidia started when the crowd calmed down, 'I'd like to shock you with this new trick of mine!'<br />He looked at her with his evil grin. He didn't expect to hear that from her.<br />'Show us! Show us! Show us!' the Host screamed and the crowd repeated after him.<br />Leonidia smiled and started her act.<br />The lights, the music – everything now made her high. She was swaying, jumping, turning on those huge swings. Oh yes, it was dangerous.<br />'Now let me twine!' she screamed.<br />Her legs were in the air, she was holding herself on her own shoulders.<br /><em><strong>It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.</strong><br /></em>The crowd stood up, almost jumped with joy when they saw her doing that. Then she stood up on her feet again, unleashing her scarf, throwing it to another acrobat who tied it to a column. Her life was in his hands. But she just smiled at him. It was all she could do.<br /><em><strong>Please not death. Please not death. Please not death.</strong><br /></em>She jumped off the swings and started whirling around the scarf. The lights made her look like a human tornado. She made different postured while she was turning around and around, and around...</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjWvA2WYSxAM1WTGHViCZqRiXqs_4DDWoqsBi3o-rdtZsBECfFhXlmP41RA1QSWdjgQTn87FK8ephaDXIlxL6om4u9wbn9fwK_rIw3f5c144XrxTwGgng4ftlPS5ci8CI_2UtN/s1600-h/NoFit%20State%20Circus.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077450379561221362" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjWvA2WYSxAM1WTGHViCZqRiXqs_4DDWoqsBi3o-rdtZsBECfFhXlmP41RA1QSWdjgQTn87FK8ephaDXIlxL6om4u9wbn9fwK_rIw3f5c144XrxTwGgng4ftlPS5ci8CI_2UtN/s320/NoFit%2520State%2520Circus.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><strong><em>Maybe I should just let go.</em><br /></strong>The music became louder. Now the chorus joined in.<br /><strong><em>An acrobat died while doing a stunt no one has seen before.</em><br /></strong>She started whirling faster.<br /><em><strong>The crowd cried and they all went to her funeral. Why not.</strong></em><br />She was upside-down now and began whirling in another direction.<br /><strong><em>The host of that tragic show got drunk and died because of overdose of absinth. Sounds great. I don't have anything left in life, so why not end it on stage just like it has begun?</em><br /></strong>The Host stood there motionlessly because he didn't expect her to do that.<br /><strong><em>Time to let go</em>.</strong><br />She let go of her scarf and flew down.<br /><em><strong>Everything has come to an end.<br />I don't want anything.<br />I hope we both meet in hell host.<br />You will vomit and scrub what's left of my corpse out from the ground.</strong><br /><strong>...Freedom!</strong></em><br />She had millions of thoughts while she was going down. But this blink before her eyes, the thought of being free, pushed death away from her.<br />She landed on her feet. Stood up. Raised her hands. And did what she had always done. She smiled. Looked right and laughed! Looked right and grinned! It was her show.<br />The crowd went wild. They were all affected by her perfection. They were under her spell. She blew a kiss toward the Host. He was angry. Oh, indeed he was. He was ready to pulverize her. Today Leonidia liked it. She liked it a lot. Leonidia was still on stage but Patricia left. The phantom of Leonidia shall never leave the stage and never cease hearing the cheering of the audience. Her audience.<br />Patricia started walking. She was smiling at clowns, dancers, acrobats who were inviting her for rum. She walked pass them. And kept going. People in the streets looked at her strangely as she was still in her stage costume. She looked at the theatre that ran the circus out of business. And kept walking again.<br /><em><strong>Gypsies. We are all gypsies. Always heading somewhere, searching for something, we don't even know what. We join something and we are thrown away like old broken marionettes. Even if we leave, it's because we are old and broken, and of course not necessary. And I like being alone. It's just sometimes so cold.</strong><br /></em>She walked towards the gypsy mahala, as they call it, a place where Romanies live. The wind was blowing. It was a cold night.<br />She saw a beautiful Gypsy woman and smiled at her. It was the only thing she could do: smile. And leave her thoughts to herself.<br />'It's so cold and you are smiling!' the woman said.<br />'Is it?' she grinned. She was shaking.<br />Only a phantom of Leonidia was still on stage. And everyone kept seeing that phantom. The Host, the dancers, the acrobats. And she? She has never learnt to take her smiling mask off.<br />An old, broken, thrown away marionette also smiles.</div><div>And smiles...</div><div>And smiles...</div>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com88tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-73934033931199896552007-06-15T11:10:00.000+03:002007-06-15T11:58:54.159+03:00.I'm a deep thinker. (no puns intended)Hey there!<br />It's a joyous day indeed! As i have been nominated for an award today! Woah! I am soooo excited! Whatever for, you may ask. Well:<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">"Edyta. Blogging from Lithuania. I didn't even realize English was not her mother tongue. (I thought she was somewhere like Chicago.) She posts modern poetry and gleaming prose."</span><br /><br />That's what <a href="http://gledwood2.blogspot.com/">Gledwood</a> has nominated me for. I CAN NOW PROUDLY SAY: DOUBLE DEE IS A THINKING BLOGGER! (not)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoxeughnZPuvj37Qrgmui36UwLhCWoXvT78zGnIlsC0WmsTDNYcC1LMJECd1I0nhp_b19qxS6dN3g5g2ZbM7SWKRq0L8ZdBKs635rR3l6IW_3kc96VHHAfEXHErRNxfBwiZtuo/s1600-h/thinkingbloggerpf8.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoxeughnZPuvj37Qrgmui36UwLhCWoXvT78zGnIlsC0WmsTDNYcC1LMJECd1I0nhp_b19qxS6dN3g5g2ZbM7SWKRq0L8ZdBKs635rR3l6IW_3kc96VHHAfEXHErRNxfBwiZtuo/s320/thinkingbloggerpf8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076202837590621346" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Well! Judging by the rules I have to award 5 creative, not giving up on thinking people.*<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(Please note, I am not awarding my FAVE blogs (becoz ALL R MY FAVES) but i decided to award my oldest buddies who haven't changed & stay original & unique as they really are.)</span><br /><br />And the THINKERS ARE! (in no particular order)<br />1) He has "gray lenses for dark days". He has the V-files. He has pics of HOT guys. He has it all. Please welcome, <a href="http://graylenses.blogspot.com/">Joshua.</a><br />2) He lives in a magical country. He has his own style of writing. He sees beauty in filths, sinners and love. His thoughts are unique. Ladies & gentlemen, <a href="http://www.a-journey-within.blogspot.com/">Ravi</a>.<br />3) He is considered as my brother (mentally I guess) He is energetic. Always knows how to cheer me up. Please welcome the eternally smiling, <a href="http://invernokl.blogspot.com/">Xian</a>.<br />4) She is a multi talented person. She is very unique. She is unfaithful to rats. She is a best friend any one can have. Ladies & gentlemen, <a href="http://unfaithful-to-rats.blogspot.com/">Agata</a>.<br />5) She is philosophical inside and out. She is able to do the most difficult task of them all: describe feelings meticulously. Please welcome, <a href="http://thealchemistsgold.blogspot.com/">Berna</a>.<br />Today is your day!<br />The rules of this tag are quite simple, just do as i did: nominate 5 people, link them in the post & share your love & respect to each other! However, there is no pressure, surely :)<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">A retrospection of yesterday:</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmvj6AtnptJNHPKjgN-VY0xPHWCi2iicSOGjYI_ZlJqBC3aIjc6JeNO4B8bXcysz-5WtFnJ09WQH1fnfq_8V9wHq2s81BCxZ3z1XMLBLh5WkqKE5jbPAK6hq_wir0p4wcZjJHX/s1600-h/IMG_7384a.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmvj6AtnptJNHPKjgN-VY0xPHWCi2iicSOGjYI_ZlJqBC3aIjc6JeNO4B8bXcysz-5WtFnJ09WQH1fnfq_8V9wHq2s81BCxZ3z1XMLBLh5WkqKE5jbPAK6hq_wir0p4wcZjJHX/s320/IMG_7384a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076208579961896114" border="0" /></a>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com46tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-22314383462606984152007-06-04T22:50:00.000+03:002007-06-04T23:04:11.988+03:00//...ICQ...(2007)<embed id="radioblog_player_0" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" width="180" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#666600" flashvars="id=0&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen?u=vMHZuV3bz9yZvxmYu8WakFmcvInZuUWZyZmLzNXZyR3cp1Gazl2d/Anathema%20-%20%20One%20Last%20Goodbye.rbs&crossfader=1&replay=1&colors=body:#666600;border:#330000;button:#330000;player_text:#330000;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKKIZhfrDx0KciXpRFCFyxNaAFOo8PbocPPq4DTh6QoE2vDp95G9a8Ce0BxUOTTCSi8FPkhucZKPA2Sl5gd_8G-ZXDgCNcxqGjqpSPOx14V4cyo9LgQBc2NB1hyphenhyphenzSlQScRCWH1/s1600-h/287211ipgq7zwzx3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072300789130500898" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKKIZhfrDx0KciXpRFCFyxNaAFOo8PbocPPq4DTh6QoE2vDp95G9a8Ce0BxUOTTCSi8FPkhucZKPA2Sl5gd_8G-ZXDgCNcxqGjqpSPOx14V4cyo9LgQBc2NB1hyphenhyphenzSlQScRCWH1/s320/287211ipgq7zwzx3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><strong>Get out.<br />I don't want to know people<br />They just slip away<br />& then I suffer & I cry<br />But they don't know that, do they?<br />I hate to be connected<br />To people<br />They just disconnect<br />like a broken modem<br />& a chat friend<br />goes offline.<br /><br />People hate to know you.<br />'Cuz they start to love you<br />You get. Sick. Diseased.<br />Deceased.<br />Someone asked u to?<br />You go offline<br />Just like a contact<br />In i seek you<br /><br />I don't want to seek you<br />But you somehow find me<br />On the streets<br />In the bus<br />In the supermarket<br />You buy cigarettes<br />I buy morphine<br />Killing ourselves calmly<br />Is how we start to<br />fall in love.<br />Then we go offline<br />I haven't sought u<br />on time<br /><br />In my youth I'd tell you<br />I don't smoke<br />You don't drink<br />Why not hang out together<br />for a glass of wine<br />& a ciggie<br />some cancer<br />& asthma<br />To be on time<br />Connection error<br />User went offline<br /><br />...online funeral, anyone?</strong>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-74003260831517002622007-05-26T11:44:00.000+03:002007-06-02T00:08:45.135+03:00SCHOOL's OUT FOREVA! [.jpg]<embed width="430" height="389" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://vid36.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid36.photobucket.com/albums/e16/_ufg_/2007EdytaByMahmoud-1.flv"></embed><br /><span style="color:#990000;"><strong><em>MINI UPDATE:</em></strong></span><br /></span>I decided to merge this video with this post, cuz some pix are repeated. Anyway, a friend of mine, <span style="color:#990000;"><em><strong>Mahmoud</strong></em></span>, made me feel like a celebrity & made this here movie with my pics. <span style="color:#990000;"><strong>Thank you kindly</strong></span>. Woohoo! I am NOT the queen. But i laughed my ass off thinking what if i was :D It was such a surpirse for me, <em>I have never expect that to happen</em>! DON'T YA JUST LOVE THE FISH?? Hope everyone is well.<br />The music is <em><strong>David Usher - <span style="color:#000000;">Black Black</span> Heart</strong></em>, in case your wonderin' ;)<br /><br /><embed id="radioblog_player_0" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" width="180" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#666600" flashvars="id=0&filepath=http%3A%2F%2Fxwarluzel.free.fr%2Fmulti%2Fradio.blog1%2Fradio.blog%2Fsounds%2F1972%20-%20Alice%20Cooper%20-%20school%27s%20out%20for%20summer.rbs&colors=body:#666600;border:#330000;button:#330000;player_text:#330000;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><align="center"><strong><span style="color:#990000;">SCHOOL'S OUT, BABY!</span></strong> </div><div>Now, there will be no:</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipa4tmYxapecH1bnmzxjbhxtt4ECSmc8oLQqZoloApcTH-03xemYMRwk2pj9NHLoJyYgGKnlbINtw5H3WoX2U2cSUqd1gOTyQDSFnZjaOyxJteGwqveVeVYWbg8rl6np63yvb0/s1600-h/2007+Last+Sql+Day+Sql+Eryk+&+DD.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068788674113477186" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipa4tmYxapecH1bnmzxjbhxtt4ECSmc8oLQqZoloApcTH-03xemYMRwk2pj9NHLoJyYgGKnlbINtw5H3WoX2U2cSUqd1gOTyQDSFnZjaOyxJteGwqveVeVYWbg8rl6np63yvb0/s320/2007+Last+Sql+Day+Sql+Eryk+%26+DD.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div>* flowers for teachers</div><div>* presents for teachers<br />* boringass lessons</div><div>* no fake smiles & wishes</div><div><span style="color:#990000;">~~BUT!!</span> </div><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-D9JD3SmJHz4rx-IcFMiEUr8D9HLW08EPuu1E_Ls6-qyPtxX9U_CEPV_DHcV_7wdi2FlkHH84EQpci1AXB2uutBSq176J6PhjqcWXrqmWi26LLyr4ORoz8Wn3uxtIE1FVJ8C9/s1600-h/2006+MAJE.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068790027028175442" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-D9JD3SmJHz4rx-IcFMiEUr8D9HLW08EPuu1E_Ls6-qyPtxX9U_CEPV_DHcV_7wdi2FlkHH84EQpci1AXB2uutBSq176J6PhjqcWXrqmWi26LLyr4ORoz8Wn3uxtIE1FVJ8C9/s200/2006+MAJE.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuij1CGyb4y68YAu3h7Hxy5_ahNhCgzDfWUlZViPw0UkHpgyi0kgNMFCacyW4fEMF7Q5rgilZmydXpRfhN883hDwQOHzqaAo6m8ZxAfcZD79Jn7WOBZ6PeynSXh_Q75kmQ_MIR/s1600-h/2006+Trojprzymierze.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068790331970853474" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuij1CGyb4y68YAu3h7Hxy5_ahNhCgzDfWUlZViPw0UkHpgyi0kgNMFCacyW4fEMF7Q5rgilZmydXpRfhN883hDwQOHzqaAo6m8ZxAfcZD79Jn7WOBZ6PeynSXh_Q75kmQ_MIR/s200/2006+Trojprzymierze.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">* no wacky photosessions</span> </div><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie8VQwFeKojAz1d2W-G7X_3NSN9KVueblrNkFRDmm6Y-Age3Bt5OHIwfK3SAsV468ZR7F7DIn3t-qfTc359O59bTlLB4xuaB1rzoGcSv0kLtEDy-JINZT2hFtC33R5h5sXR-g5/s1600-h/1995-6+Sql+1st+Grade.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068791414302612082" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie8VQwFeKojAz1d2W-G7X_3NSN9KVueblrNkFRDmm6Y-Age3Bt5OHIwfK3SAsV468ZR7F7DIn3t-qfTc359O59bTlLB4xuaB1rzoGcSv0kLtEDy-JINZT2hFtC33R5h5sXR-g5/s320/1995-6+Sql+1st+Grade.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div align="left">I SAID <em><span style="color:#00cccc;"><strong>WACKY</strong></span></em>!</div><div align="left">* no pizzas on the floor in the cafeteria</div><div align="left">* no English teacher saying that there is no word as "cafeteria"</div><div align="left">* no lessons to skip :D</div><div align="left">* no tests to cheat on.</div><div align="left">* no ping pong? damn it, kill me!</div><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXkcubWryKpHzCRRCsnSFPSunrYEb_XJ-6I37dHXEUD7hWRVmHRLN3_qQqpYfyOFH81sCrRBgz7AFKjxTXZiNocPXeJVmu5hjqbMeiF2NkSkJGChE8NlTJl_W7uei3X4xktP63/s1600-h/2004+Ping+Pong+Game+All+Players.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068793050685151874" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXkcubWryKpHzCRRCsnSFPSunrYEb_XJ-6I37dHXEUD7hWRVmHRLN3_qQqpYfyOFH81sCrRBgz7AFKjxTXZiNocPXeJVmu5hjqbMeiF2NkSkJGChE8NlTJl_W7uei3X4xktP63/s320/2004+Ping+Pong+Game+All+Players.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div align="left">NO DWELLING! We prefer partying.</div><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-AZtcafvhRgM-Fhhl3OgpSfZ9oHmUKYkMFvfpV9LBhmLum_fp2QmVsW83ifciUn3NAgiT1zjQLFSorZQhBkOVIhsYnCANoWgFVridbNLhZj6jUJI82FDa8fwFpI29hGUZ6F66/s1600-h/2007+Last+Sql+Day+Gay+Club.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068794794441874066" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-AZtcafvhRgM-Fhhl3OgpSfZ9oHmUKYkMFvfpV9LBhmLum_fp2QmVsW83ifciUn3NAgiT1zjQLFSorZQhBkOVIhsYnCANoWgFVridbNLhZj6jUJI82FDa8fwFpI29hGUZ6F66/s320/2007+Last+Sql+Day+Gay+Club.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div align="left">Oops, <span style="color:#990000;"><strong>WRONG PIC.</strong></span> (hehe)</div><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBjfrEIl3DUnZZXyHt7qjWTCWF-qy1B729HKvocvnvXdGeca-f7RbCgWLH8eMnLOVn-8Wm7EYs0ut0KkmP7t9rSdCB6FYWvnf9iW2v_cv1Gda-At-v5H6BrILfsTO7Qzdxi_k_/s1600-h/2007+Last+Sql+Day+LEBA+Dancin.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068795644845398690" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBjfrEIl3DUnZZXyHt7qjWTCWF-qy1B729HKvocvnvXdGeca-f7RbCgWLH8eMnLOVn-8Wm7EYs0ut0KkmP7t9rSdCB6FYWvnf9iW2v_cv1Gda-At-v5H6BrILfsTO7Qzdxi_k_/s320/2007+Last+Sql+Day+LEBA+Dancin.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div align="left">Dance with Your REAL friends :)</div><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdE27R7IpFfbblJJAa1tplJxlQOiB_RLbwwA-4en76XUDe_s1b8-ZY-QLPCzYXUpBH-JnCTihxNw9YKpY0Trsbhs6zyFdz4P4p5puCf59DZQf0OwyPZkD0hJXw_tHDqcxOqcOp/s1600-h/untitledmf.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068796684227484338" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdE27R7IpFfbblJJAa1tplJxlQOiB_RLbwwA-4en76XUDe_s1b8-ZY-QLPCzYXUpBH-JnCTihxNw9YKpY0Trsbhs6zyFdz4P4p5puCf59DZQf0OwyPZkD0hJXw_tHDqcxOqcOp/s320/untitledmf.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div align="left">PEE on your enemies. JUST like THAT. & receive pleasure from doing so. Even if kids are watching you. Just PEE & be proud :D</div><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7FaNxQhQaXWlIU_080l7WJjMadXabNn82yiOGSAgcl73_l2pvR8CmtSNnnj6gQ4gtPsPhn9Y09q7ZPxG6sajTasCQ8SoHDGlv9xtewwr5NhE3tu3k1yhl3E7lrOA5PgUP9r9J/s1600-h/IMG_7004.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068797538925976258" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7FaNxQhQaXWlIU_080l7WJjMadXabNn82yiOGSAgcl73_l2pvR8CmtSNnnj6gQ4gtPsPhn9Y09q7ZPxG6sajTasCQ8SoHDGlv9xtewwr5NhE3tu3k1yhl3E7lrOA5PgUP9r9J/s320/IMG_7004.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div align="left">Open Your eyes to a whole new world. There are those people to whom i can gladly say i LOVE you :)</div><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQELDhJSVAn5MsOuPmH_bGhuT52KZHISej8H_aq7ru_dGrJR38RwKWLU0MEsq6Ipiu5-eLe2BsF5-oXnewE-cokQCvlNqE286I_GK5xt0dvddOaQOWVrKOedb5x-Uafga_gWzJ/s1600-h/2007+Maria"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068798092976757458" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQELDhJSVAn5MsOuPmH_bGhuT52KZHISej8H_aq7ru_dGrJR38RwKWLU0MEsq6Ipiu5-eLe2BsF5-oXnewE-cokQCvlNqE286I_GK5xt0dvddOaQOWVrKOedb5x-Uafga_gWzJ/s200/2007+Maria%27s+B-day+Jula+Romantic.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHBnzNOOVhR0haz4xdmlSjScAdRbxoDJxG9ArMc4MAAyH5svSHZDvNcR0Dl3XdkfysXjNrnxIEqxqIw01XOGWIITbHvPskCW7zGyimAfSkX54yADestzRRWTt8oJccLm4yD_PJ/s1600-h/2007+Maria+Pretending+2+B+Qte.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068798505293617890" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHBnzNOOVhR0haz4xdmlSjScAdRbxoDJxG9ArMc4MAAyH5svSHZDvNcR0Dl3XdkfysXjNrnxIEqxqIw01XOGWIITbHvPskCW7zGyimAfSkX54yADestzRRWTt8oJccLm4yD_PJ/s200/2007+Maria+Pretending+2+B+Qte.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKFsu-lryOnt2zhBUHAYCK80TyNjQ47TxFwdAN0J1D0RSv4kDNabTiV5vnTYLZLj_1Ri-kfq1Yh2R4-YxuhEOOHTBLc1cuaN-8Izkr0kSx7nJ8MWYBa1MlyszYCKOj7IOwOJTk/s1600-h/2006+Retro+Photo+Session+Agata+Lipstick.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068799252617927410" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKFsu-lryOnt2zhBUHAYCK80TyNjQ47TxFwdAN0J1D0RSv4kDNabTiV5vnTYLZLj_1Ri-kfq1Yh2R4-YxuhEOOHTBLc1cuaN-8Izkr0kSx7nJ8MWYBa1MlyszYCKOj7IOwOJTk/s200/2006+Retro+Photo+Session+Agata+Lipstick.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div align="left">* the romantic ones</div><div align="left">* the cutieee ones</div><div align="left">* the classy ones</div><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji4iVbfK7OammxVLs3DhMs4WFntihjbT5ZLbuKv4FXF8jjV2wO6JNSp4n-fcRJnRp6DUAMkK4yLvYfw6iJa1TwBtrmzL7L96I-fhkd4j-WvxVORUW2c4UFLP5lgNry1Y74Wwq5/s1600-h/2005+Summer+Yorkie+Dreamin"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068800889000467218" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji4iVbfK7OammxVLs3DhMs4WFntihjbT5ZLbuKv4FXF8jjV2wO6JNSp4n-fcRJnRp6DUAMkK4yLvYfw6iJa1TwBtrmzL7L96I-fhkd4j-WvxVORUW2c4UFLP5lgNry1Y74Wwq5/s200/2005+Summer+Yorkie+Dreamin%27+%26+Snorin%27+%3BP.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div align="left">* the insanely <span style="color:#990000;">SQUEEZABLE </span>ONES!</div><div align="left"><em>Taoism</em> is an amazing philosophy-religion. I credit Dan for explaining that everyone of us is a universe, the Tao. These people are my universe, they are my Tao. Without them i wouldn't be edyta-ing at all.</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><em><span style="color:#990000;">'SCHOOL'S OUT FOR SUMMER!</span></em></div><div align="left"><em><span style="color:#990000;">SCHOOL'S OUT FOREVER!</span></em></div><div align="left"><em><span style="color:#990000;">Mah SCHOOL'S BEEN BLOWN TO PIECES!'</span></em></div><div align="left"><strong>Alice Cooper</strong></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com47tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-34372835150206802192007-04-05T12:27:00.000+03:002007-04-05T13:47:42.486+03:00A |Black| & |White| Holiday ;D + photos & video<embed id="radioblog_player_0" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" width="180" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#330000" flashvars="id=0&filepath=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.bittorrent-files.net%2Fmedia%2Fradio.blog%2Fsounds%2FDoves%20-%20Black%20and%20White%20Town.rbs&colors=body:#330000;border:#E9E9E9;button:#D6D6D6;player_text:#C1C1C1;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><em>At last I will make a post simply about myself and my life. I haven't written anything particular but i was doing over things: taking photos, having ideas for a movie. It's been a swell time, honestly. But it was quite contrasting: it was black & white.</em><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw6ikDqz6y9s4cV3eLKomWuE2N90KqwK_85gsHzucqQaOL5cz8W1NvkIdevZ1R9W_BR2jgUsvnVXnCTGxoILLwLpE8rSrOU0mcxdzQHmC_wKOVw64iheVSCSdlok_TZkMdAeTx/s1600-h/2007+Retro+Pic.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049875107885815730" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw6ikDqz6y9s4cV3eLKomWuE2N90KqwK_85gsHzucqQaOL5cz8W1NvkIdevZ1R9W_BR2jgUsvnVXnCTGxoILLwLpE8rSrOU0mcxdzQHmC_wKOVw64iheVSCSdlok_TZkMdAeTx/s320/2007+Retro+Pic.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div>This is me & a heart on my palm.</div><div>My friend Erick is an awesome photographer. I think that a perfect job for him would be working for Vogue or Elle. If he does, hope I will be worth his time. This is a person you feel comfortable working with, no matter who you are. And my grandmum ADORES him. LOL.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY2Rms1qEZgR-CEIZpfliWiv6jMjcihw1Wj4ZzzuMs8ogj21u47n_vQNUjUx3pqJqcNHldyHJt8vZQTHvMUMkjJ-_SRmhOd1QMW3-hkTtJzLELkV-V150oyR6_Z1EnX1ghmv1p/s1600-h/2007+Cleo.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049877822305146818" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY2Rms1qEZgR-CEIZpfliWiv6jMjcihw1Wj4ZzzuMs8ogj21u47n_vQNUjUx3pqJqcNHldyHJt8vZQTHvMUMkjJ-_SRmhOd1QMW3-hkTtJzLELkV-V150oyR6_Z1EnX1ghmv1p/s320/2007+Cleo.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div>I decided to show everyone CLEO. I haven't been drawing for a long time but here she is. I drew her for Ahmed & she's his. Hope he doesn't mind me sharing her with everyone :P Do you, Yorkie? Squeeeeeeezes & smooches for Ya! (from me, of course :D)</div><div> </div><div><embed width="430" height="389" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://s36.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid36.photobucket.com/albums/e16/_ufg_/2007DieForDiamonds.flv"></embed><br />Our silent movie. They have always been my cup of tea. Beware of LADY Agata!!</div><div><a href="http://www2.blogger.com/width=430%20height=389%20type=application/x-shockwave-flash%20wmode="><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049881258278983634" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0NhFCeZ06UoRn3NZ4ER3xoNwSrAxmpzVRLA4yUzAFYx1ElgSiTsZB37ctH0Sj6pbt2RLm_J2-c992Uaflc3_kldKh7aLFjHOElmB4PUrLQFETSfd1vCr0pdnABCpichaKw5ZK/s320/2007+Holiday+Kebab+Serious.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div>It's always good to look aside and to know that I am not alone. I do have friends. Very kind. There for me. Even if everything is black and white. They add colour to my life.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVqwN2srygZiRNq09wT9y93PxqWRBbIhPIVGFw8KGBbh5Y8U-SkO5IVptXZLx97XJXpWJmGPHRSeUgClFFYUCMzt8A09qqCG38RvzpUyYrrtmYFbmZt8_dyUrXJkLg9aeW3YtL/s1600-h/2007+Holiday+After+Kebab+Jumpin+Jumpin.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049883955518445538" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVqwN2srygZiRNq09wT9y93PxqWRBbIhPIVGFw8KGBbh5Y8U-SkO5IVptXZLx97XJXpWJmGPHRSeUgClFFYUCMzt8A09qqCG38RvzpUyYrrtmYFbmZt8_dyUrXJkLg9aeW3YtL/s320/2007+Holiday+After+Kebab+Jumpin+Jumpin.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><strong>See what I mean?</strong></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;">"You don't have to actually <em>walk</em> to walk away. You just need to stand still and emotionlessly watch me go. Although I had left, YOU were the one to walk away from me."</span></div><div>This line is for <strong>Dan</strong>. You wanted something about walking. I somehow thought of this line when i was in the bathtub washing my hair :D Hope Laura & Lulu are doing <strong>great</strong>!</div>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com110tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-13799457625268643472007-02-20T15:42:00.000+02:002007-02-21T20:31:46.370+02:00~***[2005] We've All Seen This<p align="center"><br /><embed id="radioblog_player_0" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" width="180" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#006633" flashvars="id=0&filepath=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.notordinarythings.com%2Fradio.blog%2Fsounds%2FAphex%20Twin%20-%20Jynweythek.rbs&colors=body:#006633;border:#330000;button:#330000;player_text:#330000;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting" src="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e16/_ufg_/156390h2v7vqjmn9.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXfVqwE-u01v7_ezH-xJnbGTtvsbu6ttPiQJTQ-mcib0tfZuc-x0NDvC2JHJmt7BAUtG7q1p9FDyBjbeiGAxhQgpC3w5ri0pxAzn661ybPq70vRBWGg6rj86N8JEw-LJ4rB4_s/s1600-h/156390h2v7vqjmn9.gif"></a><span style="color:#330033;"><strong></strong></span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="color:#330033;"><strong>*~</strong></span><span style="color:#000000;">And because I am forever thankful to You;</span></span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="color:#330033;"><strong>*~</strong></span><span style="color:#000000;">And You laughed with me;</span></span></p><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="color:#330033;"><strong>*~</strong></span><span style="color:#000000;">And cried with me;</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330033;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="color:#330033;"><strong></strong></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="color:#330033;"><strong>*~</strong></span><span style="color:#000000;">And You prevented me from making the biggest mistakes</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#330033;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="color:#330033;"><strong></strong></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="color:#330033;"><strong>*~</strong></span><span style="color:#000000;">And because You help me fight with myself.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">I couldn't have done it without You. I wouldn't be here or anywhere else.</span><br /><em><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#000000;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#990000;"><strong>The only thing worse than evil is apathy.</strong> (Cult Of Luna)</span></em><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;">This is the <strong>poem </strong>that has been hanging on my door for 2 years now.</span><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">***<br /></div><div align="center"><em><strong>Guaranteed to be safe<br />The currency won't be changed<br />Nights are lighted<br />Days are greeted<br />Seems to be a miracle<br />Discoveries a year ago<br />They've never seen this...<br /><br />Artificial colors<br />Yet nothing bothers<br />They are making a movie again<br />A song again<br />Their words keep flying<br />Into a whirlpool of thoughts<br />Voices are lying<br />Again, again, again<br /><br />Fix your smile<br />Walk a mile<br />While guitars are playing<br />You still got time<br />Reveal, what u hide<br />They've never seen this...<br /><br />How you changed, diamond<br />Worthless heaven, and my Lord,<br />How we devote our lives<br />To shreds of our kind<br />We call it love, but you...<br />Then I...<br />They've never seen this<br /><br />Then we stop beginning<br />Start our ending<br />The air is polluted<br />They are making a movie again<br />A song again<br />It’s me again, not you again...<br />We've all seen this...<br /><br />We call it love<br />They've never seen this<br />It's me again, not you again...<br />We've all seen this...</strong></em></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxwMGfymsOmsR8SUEc4GsUvkrodqS82JCLC5FI_MKAqo0qR5iSlQB8TKSspeqc4y-HHWLyLK975ub4whDLgudhCCSaaXliGFWgH_k5TqBxAD3SJoMvkPQiFBe0MMmfedixIOTO/s1600-h/167244lhixs7ja92.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033615010529807650" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxwMGfymsOmsR8SUEc4GsUvkrodqS82JCLC5FI_MKAqo0qR5iSlQB8TKSspeqc4y-HHWLyLK975ub4whDLgudhCCSaaXliGFWgH_k5TqBxAD3SJoMvkPQiFBe0MMmfedixIOTO/s320/167244lhixs7ja92.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;"><strong>Thank You, 'cuz You exist.</strong></span></div>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-69829597543165720392007-01-13T21:48:00.000+02:002007-01-13T23:17:18.733+02:00~*Marilyn @--}--<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7SwCY33WwHyEqJbMhaFCgyIBijX2oXlEN3khtX0c7bPoFoD1SOu-4komfcmMF2Lx6Z_9Y7svSQcV_zH2kZ8RA01uTtn_3VIAyQCxPdXiqK4P3UTnSrBNBv9KwskFuCxP8uQ8V/s1600-h/marilynmonroe2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019605096861809762" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7SwCY33WwHyEqJbMhaFCgyIBijX2oXlEN3khtX0c7bPoFoD1SOu-4komfcmMF2Lx6Z_9Y7svSQcV_zH2kZ8RA01uTtn_3VIAyQCxPdXiqK4P3UTnSrBNBv9KwskFuCxP8uQ8V/s320/marilynmonroe2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div align="left"><em><strong>Now it's my turn to say<br />What's been said too many times.<br />You're flawless, I tell You, flawless.<br />We've made tributes to You<br />For years and years<br />Hiding Your real life and fears<br />Because who cares, right?<br />Not those look-alikes<br />They seem to be exactly You<br />With a slight difference<br />That You are You<br />And You are better.<br />It hurts them so much to admit<br />That You made them ugly<br />You made them cheat.<br />Despite that they were beautiful<br />Before becoming You<br />They should have been worshiped<br />May haps even more than You,<br />Mrs. to the poor, Miss to the rich<br />You are not creative, You're someone's creation<br />Not too pretty - just under beautification<br />You're a victim of apotheosis and sanctity<br />An elusive goddess in eternity.<br />Your life is one fragile ambiguity<br />Illuminated by discrepancies of your tears<br />You're decrepit<br />You're pure poison<br />You're dead<br />Yet You never rot.<br />You can innocently kill everybody<br />Even Yourself.<br />You're flawless, I tell You, flawless!<br />You made people wonder and never know.<br />Simple. Because You're the only Marilyn Monroe.</strong></em></div><div align="left"><em><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019605187056122994" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKGo6ePjRTB31uppWAL35PAlSxj00c5vTcS6iGyxU6JvL_rrrabyt5Gv_9kFYSlyZfSB-6OmMV_B8Kh7_G0T3Qu1PG_PKb_agstojCM9M-OwuPOscR5Yzm-i9L_HgeZXoKEG_-/s320/mymarilyn.jpg" border="0" /></strong></em></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#990000;"><strong>*Note</strong></span>: I'm sorry I have been away. We all have harder times, eh? Well, I'd like everyone to join me and celebrate my blogger anniversary :D It's been a year! Thank You everybody who have read and commented on my poetry and epics. I wouldn't have made it without You! HUGS!</div></div>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-56523863512454453482006-12-03T15:11:00.000+02:002006-12-04T16:24:46.373+02:00~**So Nice Of You To Come...(2005)<span style="font-size:130%;"><strong><span style="color:#000099;">HEY!</span></strong><br /></span><span style="color:#3333ff;"><em>Winter has come and my fave month, December. That's why I decided to change into a blueish template, to feel the snow that we lack in Lithuania at the moment. </em><br /><em>I have something that I have been keeping away from everyone till December :) It's a last year's story that NO ONE has read yet. I think it's a very romantic story and it's about Christmas & the contrast between summer & winter all in one. Hope you like it.</em><br /><em>I've also changed some musical tunes. Feel free to rock whilst u read LOL :D & while I'm here, I'd like to send my warmest wishes to everyone who beared with me in time of my hiatus. I'll be a year older soon, this month, in fact. This scares me :) Lotsa love & warm wishes towards all of you!</em><br /><em><strong>Edyta (Double Dee, Beaver, Dragon, Edda, Dyta, u name it ;D)</strong></em></span><br />***<br />I don't really remember us talking ever since. No, no, no... I didn't mean to harm you, I swear, it just happened. I don't really know why. It was so warm, that day. Me, sitting in my room, reading a book. A book on geography, I believe. And you, watching me from way up there. Man, I remember how I wanted to go to the Honolulu Islands. Maybe because it was Christmas, filled with snow and I wanted sun. Maybe because I so-desperately wanted to lose myself in paradise. Or maybe it was because just the other day I was listening to a CD in a shop, full of candles, relaxing music, bath salt of different fragrances. That kind of vibe.<br />I drifted in my dreams and somehow didn't hear you come in. But I had such a feeling when you came in and I didn't spot your entrance. I had a feeling like some higher power was smiling at me, while I was myself: not praying everyday, not covered in any masks, not going to church and not realizing the whole concept behind Christmas. No, I've never cared about those things. Then I saw your face. You smiled at me. I got shy for a moment, hey, I wasn't expecting anyone. And then you came. And I realized that although I hadn't been expecting anyone, you came in and made it me happy.<br />Shit... Means that I was expecting you after all... But unconsciously... Still, I was.<br />I smiled back at you.<br />'Hey ', I said<br />'Interrupted you?'<br />'Not at all.'<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJWysU04eD9RsN6j2lsMhk54Q0hFQooq9aF5lhSFyjctUgCdb-YHTAgTAkXrT9tUKC2490OQYntfrTuvb8Dvim1_Am95EBKhDhi2-_6iCbpE3OLwAGhZbRHF_dmArB8K9b7LGP/s1600-h/JI0636.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5004297344191308002" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJWysU04eD9RsN6j2lsMhk54Q0hFQooq9aF5lhSFyjctUgCdb-YHTAgTAkXrT9tUKC2490OQYntfrTuvb8Dvim1_Am95EBKhDhi2-_6iCbpE3OLwAGhZbRHF_dmArB8K9b7LGP/s320/JI0636.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />You sat down next to me. I felt that you touched me. But you didn't. You sat down next to me in approximately two centimeters. And you didn't touch me, I know it. Still I felt something on me.<br />'Damn, where did you hurt yourself?', you asked me<br />'Oh... Here... I don't know.'<br />So this is what I felt... your look. You were looking at my hands... Face...<br />And, yes, we say:' I've been touched by an angel.' Yeah right... An angel comes down and touches you... Tell me another... So maybe an angel looks at a person and then that very same person feels it and convinces himself and his surrounders that he, in fact, has been touched by an angel. Well, maybe not.<br />'What are you reading?' Your voice, it somehow changed.<br />'About the Honolulu Islands.'<br />'Cool. When are you planning to go there?'<br />'Anytime.'<br />'Would you take me?'<br />'Only if you're good.'<br />'Ok. Is that a 'no'?'<br />'Nope. That's an 'anytime'.'<br /><em>You know guys, when two people are talking; they sometimes have those so-called blank moments. Have you ever wondered what the other person is thinking about? I have. There can be two things. A person can wonder if he should leave or not. Or he's thinking what the other one is thinking. Well... If he is thinking about leaving, means he might also think about what he's going to do after his disappearance, he can manage his plans for the day or even for a whole lifetime.<br /></em>'Why are you silent? What are you thinking about?' (Means he was thinking about things I had been thinking about)<br />'Nothing.' (And I was thinking what he had been thinking about)<br />He smiled at me.<br /><em>Have you ever looked a person in the eye, while he's smiling? So straightly, stubbornly. I have. At that moment a person's eye is filled with purity. And they are shining so brightly. And, hey, just listen to this; you can see the kind of heart that person has if you look him in the eye.<br />Wait, then, if you look at his nose, you will get information about his lungs or liver? Baloney.<br />I smiled back. This was a warm moment, just because you accidentally touched me with your leg.</em><br />'Sorry.'<br />No. I still don't know why I have been laughing for about ten minutes. I would look like a mad person if you haven't been there to join my loud laughter.<br />'So why did you say 'sorry'?'<br />‘I somehow touched you.’<br />'I didn't feel anything.'<br />'Really? Next time I will try harder.'<br />Again the laughter. And hey... There was nothing to laugh at. Oh... I remember that it was hard to breathe afterwards.<br />'Merry Christmas, honey', you said<br />'Thank you. Merry Christmas you too.'<br />'Here is something for you.'<br />'My Gosh, you shouldn't have.'<br />'Open it.'<br />'Ok'<br /><em>And when you open a present, you wonder what the hell can it be, because you seem to have everything you've ever wanted and yet another present is given to you.<br />One more thing, which is interesting, is the expression on a person's (who gives you the present) face. He is smiling; looking at you, at the present and once again at you. So then you think, if he's smiling and wants you to see the present... Means, the present has to be unexpected and incredibly special.<br /></em>'Thank you. Thanks. This is beautiful. But this was your ring?'<br />'Don't like it?'<br />'I love it.'<br />'It's a piece of me. I want you to know that I love you thiiiiiiiiiiiiis much.'<br />'Huh? And I love you thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis much.'<br />Now why did I show my tongue...? Again, the laughter... I began to feel tired. So I lay down, closed my eyes for a second. I opened my eyes and you were gone without a trace. How? In one eye blink? It's less than a second.<br />In twenty minutes I went to another room. I thought maybe you joined my family for a Christmas meal. Instead I discovered... You'd never been here.<br />My mum told me to sit down. I did that. Then told me to stay calm. And only then she told me about the thing she heard on the news.<br /><em>'On the way to the countryside, a young man dies in a terrible car accident.'</em><br />I couldn't breathe at all. I sat there for thirty minutes speechless. Then I screamed.<br />'He wanted to visit me, mum. He wanted to be with me in this house, on this Christmas Eve. He wanted to give me a present. He... He was here with me!'<br />Hysterically, I was running through out the whole house, searching for him. He was not dead. Furthermore, he was talking to me and gave me his ring. He had told me about it. It was a present from his grandfather... But the ring once belonged to his unknown ancestor.<br />I didn't find any sign of him being here today. No wonder, I didn't feel his touch. Maybe I was dreaming? So why the fuck am I wearing this ring? I stopped searching. I fell down on that solid ground. I saw his silhouette, looking straight at me, once again, smiling. I closed my eyes and screamed so hard that I lost my voice. My parents found me laying there, on the ground, where I fell down, and crying without a sound.<br />And no, I didn't commit suicide, because of my unhappy love. I understood that my love is waiting for me. Maybe it plans to start in another life.<br />I left this fucking house and went to the Honolulu Islands; I took him with me, as I promised. It was a lot of fun, until...<br />'Girl drowns in the ocean. Rescuers could not save her due to unknown circumstances.'<br />I don't remember us talking ever since that day. Until now... As we everyday smile... Fall, winter - at that old house. Spring, summer - on the Honolulu Islands. We smile everywhere, everyday. We don't talk anymore. I've never taken that ring off. It protects me... (From what?)... From thinking about the future and realizing there is none... For us.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnnbNpKbKxeQZfWBdhB_aaCijtQkxSM7xfl5F4U29Xqx0Xfp9EOaXc7mdaLA_U5xqW4KneV97Wf4NSiEOj5bX0IhfP0FYw_JpsgCbIawkW-wAgO7Ka7HU7VualRuEqMBfyRplZ/s1600-h/!COUPLE_BEACH_PINK1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5004297099378172114" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnnbNpKbKxeQZfWBdhB_aaCijtQkxSM7xfl5F4U29Xqx0Xfp9EOaXc7mdaLA_U5xqW4KneV97Wf4NSiEOj5bX0IhfP0FYw_JpsgCbIawkW-wAgO7Ka7HU7VualRuEqMBfyRplZ/s320/!COUPLE_BEACH_PINK1.jpg" border="0" /></a></div>2005<br /><div><em>CocoR</em>o<em>sie feat. Antony - Beautiful Boyz (tisk, tisk, tisk, <span style="color:#000099;"><strong>Josh</strong></span>, You got me addicted to that song!)</em></div><div><span style="color:#990000;"><strong>**UPDATE! </strong></span><span style="color:#000000;">One of the most talented people I know has proposed his soulmate and she has accepted it. This is a beautiful thing to hear! I am truly happy. I feel so enlightened and I wish to give <span style="color:#990000;">Ravi & Akankshi</span> all of my positive energy and best wishes. </span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;"><strong>EVERYBODY DANCE NOW!</strong></span></div>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-43070890036577673342006-10-29T16:46:00.000+02:002006-10-31T23:54:29.189+02:00::..The Evolution Of My Halloween..::'I am bored to<span style="color:#cc0000;"> <em><strong>death'</strong></em></span>, she said and looked at her friends whilst they were coming back home from school.<br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>'<span style="color:#660000;"><strong>Why</strong></span> so?', a friend asked.</div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>'I need something new, something scary. I want to celebrate <span style="color:#666600;"><strong><em>Halloween</em></strong></span> and <em><span style="color:#33cc00;">YOU ARE INVITED</span></em>.</div><div><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;">*</span><span style="color:#339999;">*</span><span style="font-size:180%;color:#999900;">*</span>The</strong> <em>Evolution</em> <strong>Of </strong><em>My</em> <strong><span style="color:#993399;">Halloween.<span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff33;">*</span>*</span><span style="font-size:78%;color:#33cc00;">*</span></strong></div><div><em><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"><strong>2000's BASH!</strong></span></em></div><div><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/2000%20Halloween%20Classical%20Example%20Of%20A%20Halloween%20Pic.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/2000%20Halloween%20Classical%20Example%20Of%20A%20Halloween%20Pic.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><strong><em><span style="color:#993399;">UP ^</span></em></strong></div><div>We were such swell kids, <strong><span style="color:#333399;">a</span></strong>m<strong><span style="color:#000099;">aaaaa</span></strong>zing :) Found <em>meeeeeee i</em>n this pic? Well, I'm the one with a <span style="color:#ffcc33;">blonde</span> shred of hair on my head :D The<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6666;"> headless</span> things are Julia & Maria, the <span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;">photogenic</span> masked witch is Natalia and the Russian "Baba Jozhka"<span style="font-family:courier new;color:#99ff99;"> :D</span> is Kasia.<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/2000%20Halloween%20Bengal%20Fires.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/2000%20Halloween%20Bengal%20Fires.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><strong><em><span style="color:#cc0000;">UP^</span></em></strong></div><div>Me(in <strong>black</strong>), Kasia, Natalia (<strong>unmasked</strong> already :D), Julia & Irena :) It was when we decided that the costumes can go off (<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;">partly</span>), we can make some <span style="color:#3333ff;">pics </span>& then <span style="color:#ff9900;">dance around</span> the house :)</div><div><span style="color:#993300;">Summary:</span></div><div>It was definitely a <span style="color:#00cccc;"><strong>marvelous</strong></span> party; now remains a perfect memory: no fights, only smiles, laughs and happy faces. It was when we decided this had to become a <strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;">tradition.</span></em></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"><em>2001's BASH!</em></span></strong></div><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/big3.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/big3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;">!!~Pitty</span> everyone forgot to take their cameras with them: don't forget, 2001 is still the <strong><span style="color:#999900;">ErA</span></strong> of normal cameras, not the <span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;color:#cc33cc;"><strong>digital</strong></span> ones. I mean, I knew abt the digital camera but I thought it was something that I could <span style="color:#33ccff;"><em><strong>never</strong></em> </span>have had. Guess I was wrong, cuz now every dog has it even in his cell phone. Guess I am one of those<strong><span style="font-size:130%;"> dogs</span><span style="color:#663300;"> :D</span></strong> Anyway, the bash was great. We all had different costumes this time and I remember me having a <span style="color:#666666;"><strong>chain</strong></span> on my leg, so I think I was a prisoner's ghost or something. I guess this <strong>Halloween</strong> remains a <span style="color:#663366;"><strong><em>mystery</em></strong></span>. Well, all traditions have their <strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#6600cc;">secrets</span> </span></em></strong>and Halloween 2001 is a secret to you and me :) All I know, everyone loved it & waited for the next year to come <span style="color:#ff6600;"><strong>faster</strong></span>.</span></div><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;">2002's BASH!</span></em></strong> </div><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/2002%20Maje%20Halloween%20Photo%20Session.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/2002%20Maje%20Halloween%20Photo%20Session.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></em></strong></div><div><span style="font-size:100%;color:#993399;"><strong><em>UP ^</em></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;"><span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"><strong><em>Woooooooohooooo!</em></strong></span> Another year, another bash :) This time it's <span style="color:#339999;">2002's Halloween Bash!</span> I guess we changed. I mean, just look at the last pix and compare them to these. <span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6600;">I</span> think <span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6600;">I</span> changed. But we still had <span style="color:#33cc00;">LOAD</span><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;">SSSS</span> of fun :D The 2 photogenic ghosts or the <span style="color:#333333;"><em>Scream Movie Characters</em></span> are Julia and Natalia(Natalia's <span style="color:#003300;"><strong>pale</strong></span> & Julia's <strong><span style="color:#ffcc66;">yellow</span></strong> :D) The leopard <span style="color:#cc9933;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#000000;">*</span>g<span style="color:#000000;">R</span>r<span style="color:#000000;">R</span>*</span></strong></span> is Maria, The Witch or <strong>'Baba Jozhka'</strong> (I just <span style="color:#cc0000;"><em>luv </em></span>that word) is My dear <span style="color:#ffff00;"><strong>blondie</strong></span>, Agata. I am hugging my friend, Eve, aka <span style="color:#333333;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;color:#663333;">M</span>ortish</strong></span> and who am I? I am a vampire (btw, I remember me searching for my <span style="color:#336666;"><em>thangs</em></span> and screaming: 'I am not starting the party without my <span style="color:#336666;"><em><strong>thangzzzz</strong></em></span>, <span style="color:#cc0000;">damn</span> it!')</span> </div><div><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/2002%20Maje%20Halloween%20Photo%20Session1.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/2002%20Maje%20Halloween%20Photo%20Session1.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><strong><em><span style="color:#ff6600;">UP ^</span></em></strong></div><div>Oh <span style="color:#009900;">YEAH</span>, a different pose, all you <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>POSERS</strong> </span>:D There's a funny <em><span style="color:#3366ff;"><strong>~illusion~</strong></span></em> in this pic, if ya'll look closely at the hand embracing my friend Eve (<em><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#663300;">M</span></strong></em><span style="color:#333333;">ortish</span>) you shall see that it's not Agata's (Witch's) hand, but <em><span style="color:#339999;">Yo</span><span style="color:#339999;">urs Truly's</span></em> :D <strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;">OMG</span></strong>. This is a crazy pic. Come to think of it, they all r <strong><span style="color:#999900;"><em>craz</em></span><span style="color:#66cccc;">-ey</span>.</strong></div><div><span style="color:#996633;">Summary:</span></div><div>The 3rd Halloween was great. Games, fun, scary stories. It was also A Day Of Halloween <span style="color:#666600;">Sql</span>. Me & Eve made some posters that were used as <em><span style="font-size:85%;">whiteboards</span></em> and we were teaching such <span style="color:#33cc00;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#009900;">su</span>bje</span></strong></span><span style="color:#33ff33;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">cts</span></strong> </span>as: </div><div><span style="color:#ff6666;">**~ </span>Halloween <span style="font-size:130%;color:#996633;"><strong>Religion</strong></span> - Teacher <span style="color:#33cc00;">Natalia</span>; (& her teachings of the 10 Halloween Orders)</div><div><span style="color:#ff6666;">**~</span> Halloween <span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc6600;"><strong>History</strong></span> - Teacher <span style="color:#3366ff;">Maria</span> (aka Lachowicz or our former history teacher who was spitting on us all whilst explaining the topic :D ewwwww.) </div><div><span style="color:#ff6666;">**~</span> Halloween <strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;">Art</span></strong> - Teacher <span style="color:#006600;">Julia</span> who made a spesh document and wrote words in such a shrift, that even she, herself, can't read what's written there :D A perfect addition to Halloween Mysteries ;)</div><div><span style="color:#ff6666;">**~ </span>Halloween <strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#990000;">Biology</span> </strong>- Teacher <span style="color:#cc6600;">Eve</span> who explained what a vampire's nail consisted of (she found metal there :D)</div><div><span style="color:#ff6666;">**~</span>Halloween <strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;">Music</span></strong> - Teacher <span style="color:#993399;">Edyta</span> (me) :D we sang Halloween Songs, the first Halloween Canon & some zombie ghostie songs that i have come up with :D</div><div><span style="color:#ff6666;">**~ </span>Halloween <strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;">P.E.</span></strong> - Teacher <span style="color:#ff6666;">Agata</span> :D and her drastic physical education measures :D</div><div><em><span style="color:#666666;">... It's a wonderful memory...</span></em><br /></div><div><em><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"><strong>2003's BASH!</strong></span></em> </div><div><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/2003%20Halloween%20Curtains.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/2003%20Halloween%20Curtains.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><span style="color:#996633;"><em><strong>UP ^</strong></em></span></div><div><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;">Whaaaaa :D</span> This is <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#339999;"><strong>Halloween 2003</strong></span> and our costumes get <span style="color:#cc0000;"><em>scarier</em></span> (or we get<em><span style="color:#cc0000;"> scarier</span></em>? LOL) :D Myself (with a <strong><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#ff6666;">fl</span><span style="color:#33cc00;">ower</span></span></strong> in my hair) & Eve are <strong><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#3333ff;">G</span><span style="color:#999900;">i</span><span style="color:#ff9900;">p</span><span style="color:#33ff33;">s</span><span style="color:#cc0000;">i</span><span style="color:#996633;">e</span><span style="color:#993399;">s</span></span></strong> and we can tell everything ya'll wanna know (& trust me, u <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">don't</span></strong> :P) Maria (in <strong>black</strong>) & Julia (all wrapped up in spide<strong><em><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">rrrrrr</span></em></strong>webs) are Mortishes ;) and Agata is a <span style="color:#3333ff;">WITCH</span>. What a scary combination of <em><span style="color:#009900;">ghouls</span></em>.</div><div><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/2003%20Halloween%20Maria%20Verka%20Take%202.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/2003%20Halloween%20Maria%20Verka%20Take%202.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><strong><em><span style="color:#3366ff;">UP ^</span></em></strong></div><div>In the middle there is the <span style="font-family:webdings;font-size:180%;color:#ffff00;">m</span>star<span style="font-family:webdings;font-size:180%;color:#ffff00;">l</span> of the show Maria aka <span style="color:#009900;">Mortish</span> dressed as <em><strong><span style="color:#3333ff;">Verka Serduchka,</span></strong></em> a russian comedian-singer<span style="color:#9999ff;"> :D</span> And the <span style="font-family:lucida grande;">two</span> <span style="color:#999900;"><em>Gipsies</em></span> are me & Eve. It was quite a <span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"><strong>show <span style="color:#339999;">:D</span></strong></span></div><div><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/2003%20Halloween%20The%20Legs%20Game.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/2003%20Halloween%20The%20Legs%20Game.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><strong><em><span style="color:#009900;">UP ^</span></em></strong><br /><div>The <strong><span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;">SYMBOL</span></strong> Of our Halloweens: <span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;">The legs game</span>. People lay down and form a <span style="color:#ff6600;"><em>labirynth</em></span> which a victime (this time <span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc33cc;">me</span>) has to go through. <strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">Scary</span></strong>, huh? Well my Halloween bruises scared me too <span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc9933;">:D</span> But that didn't prevent us from playing :) I remember my friend Natalia screaming that because of this game they will throw her out of the <span style="font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"><strong>modelling agency</strong></span> :D</div><div><span style="color:#cc9933;">Summary:</span></div><div>Good <span style="color:#339999;">clean</span> fun. And loads of <strong><span style="font-size:180%;">di<span style="color:#ff0000;">r</span>ty </span></strong>dancing. Unless I am mistaken it was during this party that we played <span style="color:#993399;">truth or dare</span> and I dared to eat an <span style="color:#ff6600;"><em>oranges leftouts</em></span> :D I told everyone it was tasty & everyone started to eat 'em :D Phah. But it's nothing compared to <span style="color:#33ff33;"><strong>Julia's task</strong></span>, during the 1st Halloween :D She had to <span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"><strong>pee</strong></span> in front of us all. She did it perfectly. <span style="color:#cc6600;"><em><strong>*Thumbs up*</strong></em></span> Halloween has become a <span style="color:#ff9900;"><strong><em>stable celebration.</em></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"><em><strong>2004's BASH!</strong></em></span> </div><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/2004%20Halloween%20All%20Peeps.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/2004%20Halloween%20All%20Peeps.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></em></strong></div><div><span style="font-size:100%;color:#663333;"><strong><em>UP ^</em></strong></span></div><div>Kids got to know what a <span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;">digital</span> camera is: Maria's got one of those and has kindly brought it to make some memorable pics. <em><strong><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;">Oh yeah</span></strong></em>, they <span style="color:#009900;">were</span> memorable. Some of them were even <span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc0000;"><strong><em>censored </em></strong></span>thats why I aint gonna show ya them :P<strong><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#00cccc;"> thyhy</span></strong>. <span style="color:#cc0000;"><em>Ignore that.</em></span></div><div>This time Kasia is a Gipsy (the <span style="color:#cc0000;">red</span> cutie) Maria is Cleopatra, Agata(The Blondie) is a Queen Of Halloween, Julia is 'Chiuvak In <strong>black</strong>' :D (translation: <em><strong>dude</strong></em> in black, just a russian word made it sound funnier <strong><span style="color:#999900;">;D</span><span style="color:#333399;">~</span></strong>) & I'm a <em><span style="color:#996633;">retro chic</span></em> or whatever :D ( I am between the arms of <span style="color:#6633ff;">Eve</span> in a red sweater, in case you haven't recognised me)</div><div><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/2004%20Halloween%20UFG%20Sittin"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/2004%20Halloween%20UFG%20Sittin%27.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><strong><em><span style="color:#333333;">UP ^</span></em></strong><br /></div><div>Did this gloomy pic scare the living <strong><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;">shit</span></strong> outta <span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc33;"><strong><em>you</em></strong></span>? Well, yeah, that's<span style="color:#990000;"> me</span>. Stangely, I liked this pic just cuz it's dark and different from who I <span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:180%;color:#00cccc;">really am</span>. A classical example (no, not of present perfect) of a <span style="color:#009900;">Halloween pic</span> <strong><span style="font-size:180%;color:#996633;">:D</span></strong> </div><div><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/2004%20Halloween%20Soooo%20Dark.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/2004%20Halloween%20Soooo%20Dark.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><strong><em><span style="color:#ff9966;">UP ^</span></em></strong></div><div>There are people who have a talent to look <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#00cccc;"><strong>okay</strong></span> when they are<span style="color:#993399;"><em> drunk</em></span>. We have a talent to look <span style="color:#993399;"><em>drunk</em></span> when we're <span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#66cccc;">okay </span>:D</div><div><span style="color:#996633;">Summary</span>:</div><div>This Halloween <span style="color:#cc0000;">kicked ass</span>! I loved it maybe cuz of my costume, I love the <em>RETRO</em> era. It remains my fave era in history. (<em><span style="font-size:85%;">Isn't that obvious?)</span></em> and wearing things out from that era makes me feel right <span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>at home</strong>.</span> I just think we all had loads of <strong><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#cc9933;">f</span><span style="color:#009900;">u</span><span style="color:#000099;">n</span></span> </strong>:)</div><div><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"><strong><em>2005's BASH!</em></strong></span> </div><div><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/2005%20Halloween%20MAJE.0.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/2005%20Halloween%20MAJE.0.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><strong><em><span style="color:#ff6600;">UP ^</span></em></strong></div><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;">Say</span></em></strong> it! You wanna <span style="color:#663366;"><em>call</em></span> the mental hospital, you can say it <span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ffcc33;"><strong>loudly & proudly</strong></span>. Ain't we cuteeeeee? <strong><em><span style="color:#000099;">Don't</span></em></strong> answer that. Anyway, it's me and my 3 <em>best friends</em> (mentally equal as you can see) Maria is the <strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;">Spade Queen</span></em></strong> (hiding), Agata is a <strong><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#009900;">G</span><span style="color:#ffcc33;">i</span><span style="color:#cc0000;">p</span><span style="color:#339999;">s</span><span style="color:#ff6666;">y</span></span></strong>, Julia is <strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#990000;">Mr Warner</span></strong> and I am a <span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"><strong><em>goth</em></strong></span>. It's ok, you can come out now, it's just a pic :D</div><div><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/2005%20Halloween%20Mr%20Warner.0.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/2005%20Halloween%20Mr%20Warner.0.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><em><strong><span style="color:#33ccff;">UP ^</span></strong></em></div><div>This just <strong><span style="font-size:180%;color:#999900;">had to</span></strong> be posted! Julia, you made <span style="color:#cc0000;"><strong>Marilyn Manson</strong></span> PROUD. I love the <span style="color:#ff6600;"><em>pumpkins</em></span> behind her. This is just extra <span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;">Halloweenish</span>!</div><div><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/2005%20Halloween%20UFG%20Kissing%20Her%20New%20BF.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/2005%20Halloween%20UFG%20Kissing%20Her%20New%20BF.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><span style="color:#999900;"><strong><em>UP ^</em></strong></span></div><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;color:#00cccc;">Myself</span></em></strong> and the <span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;">perfect man</span> <span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ff9900;">:D</span></div><div><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#666600;">Summary:</span></div><div>It was an <strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;">awesome</span></strong> party. I made up a <span style="color:#3366ff;"><em>Tarrot Game</em></span> which made some people say: "<span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><em><span style="color:#006600;">OH</span> <span style="color:#999900;">ME</span> <span style="color:#33ff33;">GAWD</span></em></strong></span>, what's goin' on there?' <span style="color:#003333;"><strong>Hehe.</strong></span> We had loads of fun and told <span style="color:#cc9933;">scary stories</span>. <strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">Booya.</span></strong></div><div><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"><strong><em>2006's (final) BASH!</em></strong></span></div><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/DSC00203.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/DSC00203.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></em></strong></div><div><strong><em><span style="color:#006600;">UP ^</span></em></strong></div><div>The <span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#999900;">Asian</span> girls. Me being <em><strong><span style="color:#336666;">Indian</span></strong></em> & Julia being a <strong><em><span style="color:#003333;">Geisha.</span></em></strong> How exotic :D The main phrazes up to this hour, ME: <em>'Quit staring at my breasts'</em> :D~ & <em>'I can't walk normally in these curtains' </em>:D <span style="font-size:180%;color:#66cccc;"><strong>LOL</strong></span></div><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/DSC00255.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/DSC00255.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></em></strong></div><div><strong><em><span style="color:#006600;">UP ^</span></em></strong></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">Me being Indian <span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong>:P</strong></span> It's just that those movies r sooo <span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#6633ff;"><strong>prettyyyyyyy</strong></span> *drooling* & the girls are so beautiful (<em>some guys are too :P</em>) so i just couldn't resist it :)</span></div><div><span style="color:#990000;">Halloween</span> is a beautiful celebration when you can be someone you are not.</div><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"><strong>Hava Nagila.mp3</strong></span> (Jewish Wedding Dance (<strong>yes we danced to that</strong>))</div><div><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;">Bade Miyan Chote Miyan.mp3</span></strong> (<em>I</em> was torturing my sweeties with Belly Dancing)</div><div><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#666600;">Tarkan - Buge Gee.mp3</span></strong> (Remix) :D</div><div><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#993399;"><strong>Tarkan - Sidikim.mp3</strong></span> (<em>Maria</em> was torturing us very kindly, in fact, unlike me :D)</div><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff9900;"><strong>Ingrid - In Tango.mp3</strong></span> (Frrrrrrench powered by <em>Kasia</em> ;))</div><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330099;"><strong>Chinese Music - Pearlriver Sunset.mp3</strong></span> (a Geisha pose dance by sweet <em>Julia</em>)</div><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/PA310036.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/PA310036.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></em></strong></div><div><strong><em><span style="color:#663333;">UP^</span></em></strong></div><div>Agata had to be <span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"><em><strong>Jewish :D</strong></em></span> Who will recognize my <span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong>blondie </strong></span>now?</div><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/PA310083.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/PA310083.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></em></strong></div><div><strong><em><span style="color:#33cc00;">UP ^</span></em></strong></div><div>Cute Kasia. The wickedly <span style="font-size:180%;color:#990000;"><em><strong>HOT</strong></em></span> Maria. Btw, I felt the need to name her <em><span style="color:#ff9900;"><strong>Clementine</strong></span></em>. Don't ask. Period.</div><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/1600/DSC00329.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/4743/2596/320/DSC00329.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></em></strong></div><div><strong><em><span style="color:#cc9933;">UP ^</span></em></strong></div><div>Myself & my new <em><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">hairdoo.</span></strong></em> Wonder if mum sees it & what will she say :D Anywho, Agata was right: everyone tried <strong><em><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;">her wig</span></em></strong> on :D</div><div><span style="color:#339999;">Summary:</span></div><div><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;color:#cc33cc;">IT WAS LOADS OF FUN!</span> I <span style="color:#cc0000;">loved</span> it! I am sooo much thankful to my fave girls for making this party a <span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"><strong>tradition</strong></span>. I love it & it means sooo much to me :) <span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"><em>LUV YA GIRLS!</em></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"></div><div><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;color:#000000;">Have a spooky</span> <span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#339999;">H</span><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc0000;">a</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#666600;">l</span><span style="color:#999900;">l</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#996633;">o</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">w</span><span style="font-family:arial;color:#666600;">e</span><span style="color:#ff6600;">e</span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#006600;">n</span></span>!</span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com41tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-1159194833869109132006-09-25T17:07:00.000+03:002006-09-25T17:39:16.243+03:00Call Me A Whore Now<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/1600/The%20Game%20Of%20Masks.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/320/The%20Game%20Of%20Masks.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I just got lost<br />Thought I didn't need anything but you<br />Threw everything away to hell, to burn<br />Well, I was wrong<br />Never felt pain this way<br />When I found a place for me<br />Where lost souls work<br />Because they are forever disappointed in life, in truth<br />Because of them<br />Because of men<br />There, I feel free to do my pleasures<br />Why<br />I'm not bad, that's my job<br />I earn to live, isn't that what's life about?<br />Manly pleasures are ok<br />When females sit at home and pray<br />It just stopped<br />Because of them<br />Because of men<br />Maybe I can be killed any moment now<br />Maybe I will be laughed at<br />Hell knows<br />It's none of your business<br />You left me alone,<br />Made me through myself away<br />And you are now<br />... Gone...<br />Away.<br />Be that way<br />Because of you<br />Because it's true<br />Go ahead, call me a whore now.<br /><br /><em>2004<br />I was 14 when i wrote this. I was wondering how it was for them. For members of the Risk Group. For people who we don't dare to look at. They are so lost. Some know about it some don't. I felt fear. Yup, I was a kid when I wrote this. Still am.</em>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com47tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-1158425920868226082006-09-16T18:23:00.000+03:002006-09-25T17:38:13.870+03:00Dialogues (4 Different Ones)Today is my NAME DAY! i wish health & loads of love to all <span style="color:#cc0000;">Edyta</span>s around the world!<br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/1600/Dialogues.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/320/Dialogues.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />In a room full of people you may feel emptiness. And you can hear them speak. And when you are alone, you listen. You listen to dialogues and you wish you were deaf. When you are not alone, you speak to you listener and look at people who wish they were deaf. No one wants to be loaded.<br /><br />1<br />***<br />'Then he somehow left.'<br />'Did you try to bring him back?'<br />'No, not really. I don't think I need him anymore.'<br />'Did you cry?'<br />'Yes I have. A few days. It didn't mean much though.'<br />'You barely had a connection between you two.'<br />'Yeah... I think you're right. Now I realize that.'<br />'Do you ever think of him?'<br />'You mean nowadays?'<br />'Yeah.'<br />'Hardly ever.'<br />'It was a banal situation.'<br />'Yes it was. I kept praying but nothing happened. I hoped... He never cared.'<br />'You chose a different path?'<br />'I didn't choose anything. I wanted to stay.'<br />'Why won't you come back?'<br />'Principles.'<br />'I have never known you had an inexorable personality.'<br />'Neither have I. I am not going to change for him. Not anymore. He didn't love me. So neither did I. I regret it all.'<br />'Regret?'<br />'Yeah. All that remorse causes me pain. But I am used to it. I need to make a change again.'<br />'For yourself?'<br />'Yeah. For me.'<br />'Why did you trust him?'<br />'I didn't have anyone.'<br />'Do you have someone now?'<br />'No. Guess not.'<br />'Does it make you feel lonely?'<br />'No. More like abandoned.'<br />'So you will come back to him?'<br />'He hates me now after all I did.'<br />'What did you do?'<br />'I was thinking.'<br />'You can't destroy your sub consciousness.'<br />'Rules say I have to.'<br />'Then... Who do you have to turn to?'<br />'No one.'<br />'So you'll die soon?'<br />'I am already dead if he doesn't believe in me.'<br />'Do you feel pain?'<br />'Yeah.'<br />'Dead don't feel.'<br />'I guess you're right. He never existed.'<br />'No. He does. You're just alive.'<br />***<br />A nun was talking to a close friend about God.<br /><br />2<br />***<br />'You're so beautiful...'<br />'So are you...'<br />'No, I've never been. I am talking to angels. I see you're white dresses. So innocent. So pure. God sent me angels. Thank you.'<br />'You'll feel as you're slightly flying away.'<br />'Do I have wings?'<br />'Just relax and drift away. Dream...'<br />'Am I an angel too? I have read somewhere that if angels are talking to you, mean that you are an angel too because no one understands angels except their selves.'<br />'People write a lot of things. That doesn't make them true.'<br />'So I am not an angel?'<br />'Not yet.'<br />'Oh? I made mistakes, yeah, I know. I am sure. But I was only human. Imperfect. Can you ask God to forgive me?'<br />'We surely will.'<br />'Will I be able to join you?'<br />'I am afraid not.'<br />'Why? I won't be an angel? I sinned that much?'<br />'You can not join us.'<br />'I know. I understand. I've never been good enough. Will I got to hell?'<br />'I am sure you shan't.'<br />'You promise?'<br />'I promise.'<br />'So who will I become?'<br />'It depends on you.'<br />'So I have a chance to become an angel?'<br />'The chances are all yours.'<br />'You just made me the happiest living person. Ever.'<br />'Living... Person? Not for long.'<br />'Really? I will be an angel soon? Why aren't you smiling? It's a joyful occasion.'<br />'I am smiling.'<br />'Good! Because I will smile with angels soon.'<br />'Yeah. I guess you will.'<br />'Will you smile with me?'<br />'Yeah, in some time we all will.'<br />'I'll wait for you. You're so white... The angel of purity... Don't... hide... your... wings...'<br />***<br />'Doctor? She died.'<br />'She thought I was an angel.'<br />'To your friends you are.'<br />'As you, nurse.'<br /><br />3<br />***<br />'Damn it to hell. He was strange.'<br />'Yeah. Almost like you.'<br />'Go ahead, laugh at me and him.'<br />'I am not. He had his weaknesses. Like that tree. He wouldn't let you chop it down.'<br />'You got to admit, though, it's a pretty tree. He loved nature.'<br />'I love that tree too.'<br />'He used to sit under it. Almost smiling to himself.'<br />'I liked him.'<br />'I loved him.'<br />'No one else liked him except us.'<br />'People hate everything they don't know. He was strange to them. People need everything elaborate.'<br />'I like him being different. He was always silent.'<br />'I never heard him either.'<br />'He had a soul. You know? Sometimes people are soulless. They speak much and do nothing. He never said anything but he did a lot of things for us. He was a part of us.'<br />'He still is a part of me.'<br />'Of me too.'<br />'I liked talking to him. He'd always listen. Even if it was bullshit. He'd always have time for me.'<br />'Memories of him haunt me.'<br />'I can't live in memories either. I remember everyday with him.'<br />'Yeah. He seemed to be always with us. He was beautiful.'<br />'Remember that time when he helped our neighbor, Susan? She would have been dead now. Never ever he wanted a reward.'<br />'Did he go to heaven?'<br />'I think he did. He loved and was loved. Could you ask for more?'<br />'He was perfect.'<br />'I miss him.'<br />'I miss him too.'<br />'You want to continue life?'<br />'Sure.'<br />'What will we do now? We lost him.'<br />'Memories hurt.'<br />'Memories don't change but people do.'<br />'Let's start changing.'<br />'How?'<br />'By chopping down that tree.'<br />'I can't.'<br />'Neither can I.'<br />'I'll go call the neighbors for help.'<br />'Yeah, you do that. I will burn his photographs.'<br />***<br />They loved their Saint Bernard although their surrounders were afraid of him. He was a good dog.<br /><br />4<br />***<br />'It's passion that we both need.'<br />'Speak for yourself.'<br />'You don't love me?'<br />'I love you! But it's what I tried to show you for ages! Passion, passion, PASSION! And only now, after all these years, you've understood it.'<br />'Why didn't you tell it to me before?'<br />'I wanted you to realize it for yourself.'<br />'Sometimes you're so demanding.'<br />'Sometimes. We all are.'<br />'Do you love me?'<br />'I've never stopped loving you.'<br />'Will you forgive me?'<br />'Forgive you what?'<br />'This mess that we've created by keeping our love a secret.'<br />'It's my fault too.'<br />'Can I embrace you?'<br />'We both know you don't have to ask me that.'<br />'There are too many things that only we both know, and no one else.'<br />'Am I passionate enough now?'<br />'Yeah, I guess so.'<br />'You too. You've always been.'<br />'Maybe I should have told you. Anyway, here, have a glass of wine. It's good for you soul.'<br />'It's good to set the mood.'<br />'Yeah, that too.'<br />'Would you fight for love?'<br />'No.'<br />'Thought so.'<br />'Why did you think so?'<br />'Because you weren't passionate enough.'<br />'Would you fight for love?'<br />'No.'<br />'Why not?'<br />'I never put too much effort into making you passionate.'<br />'Which means?'<br />'You're worthless.'<br />'You don't love me.'<br />'Glad you guessed.'<br />'So, I was just a game?'<br />'No, I just imagined you. And now I want you to disappear.'<br />'Will you need me again?'<br />'No.'<br />'Can you give me hope?'<br />'Here, have all the hope in the world. Drink it like a pill, drink it aristocratically with wine.'<br />'Thank you.'<br />'Now go.'<br />***<br />An author is talking to a friend about his new book.<br />'Have you read my book?'<br />'About imagination and metaphysics?'<br />'Yeah, that one.'<br />'No, not yet.'<br />'Don't. It's shit anyway.'Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-1156949630526515092006-08-30T17:42:00.000+03:002006-08-30T17:57:04.436+03:00Greyed To Death (Old Hollywood) |<3|<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/1600/009600C800103324.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/320/009600C800103324.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><em>Greyed to death<br />Their black eyes look; though they are greyly blue<br />And grey blondes are symbols<br />The glimmer on photographs<br />Is unseen to the human eye<br />Yet noticed by our mind.<br />They're smiling with<br />Their grey white teeth<br />And show their best friends:<br />The grey diamonds and<br />The grey 24 carat gold.<br />Our blushing cheeks were kissed<br />By their grey bloody red lips<br />Blown from a grey white hand<br />Covered with grey red nail polish<br /><br />We're still platforms.<br />They're still glamour.<br /><br />Greyed to death<br />Only the Bible has its<br />Initial color-<br />Black.<br />Only there murder is greyly black-<br />Like it has to be.<br />We hear their grey sweet voices<br />We dwell on their grey pain<br />We keep them colorfully grey<br />In our greyed to death<br />Frames.<br /><br />On screen, off screen - they are<br />Greyly colorful<br />Just like your mind noticed them.<br />You still admire them until now<br />As they stopped their grey breath<br />After all these years they're still alive<br />Although they're greyed to death.</em><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/1600/marlene_dietrich220_220x300.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/320/marlene_dietrich220_220x300.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Pictures: The Beautiful Marlene DietrichEdytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com56tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-1156504571618475342006-08-25T13:54:00.000+03:002006-08-25T14:45:18.040+03:00Puss is in Da House------!!Thank You so much PJ for tagging me :)<br />Things about my Puss. She's sooooo cuteeeeeee & I love her. Wanna find out why?<br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/1600/2005%20Summer%20PussyCat.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/320/2005%20Summer%20PussyCat.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />1. My mum says Puss is just like me: doesnt eat fish, always complains, doesnt like when someone touches her when she's not in the mood etc. Well. Can't argue with those things.<br />2. Last summer when I arrived in Moscow (& was hell tired) we closed the door & went to sleep. However, it appeared that Pussycat wanted to get out of the room but she couldnt open the door. So she looked at me & my mum & said : 'Mama'. Animals talking?<br />3. Puss is a sweeeeeeeeet alarm clock towards me but a drastic one towards my mum :) Lemme explain: She scratched my mum & she was touching my hand by her palm sooo softly & saying: 'Miau'. I melted on that scene.<br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/1600/2006%20Puss.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/320/2006%20Puss.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />4. She is soooooooooo fucking talkative. When my mum calls me from Moscow i can't get with whom am i talking? With my mum or with Puss? Hear her miaus the whole time :) Also, abt her being talkative: the windiw in summer is always open & loads of flies & insects fly through it & Queen Pussey tries to catch 'em. But she fails, sadly. & she comes to my mum & complains about her deep sadness & apathy of uncought flies. (here's the moment where everyone cries)<br />5. Puss likes to play Matrix. Yup. Once, i was listening to my mp3 player & suddenly saw Pussey running through out the whole room, jumping on the bed & jumping off it in SLOW MOTION. Go get those men in black glasses, Puss.<br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/1600/2005%20Pussy%20hzzzz.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/320/2005%20Pussy%20hzzzz.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Now, I need to tag some victimes*cough*people who werent tagged yet.<br />Samness!<br />Tsar (bro)<br />Agata<br />Julia<br />Yaney (were you tagged?)<br />Of course, there is no pressure. Absolutely. :)<br />I shall share some new poems asap :)Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-1155989041404140992006-08-19T14:31:00.000+03:002006-08-19T15:09:14.256+03:00Abandoned**~<span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong><em>Porzucona</em></strong><br />O Natchnienie! Muzo mlodosci!<br />Pozwol mi dotknac Cie<br />Jako dotknelas kiedys mnie<br />Prosze wroc!<br />Ale nie zyjesz juz dla mnie!<br />Odeszlas...<br />Byc moze tylko slowa sa moim krzykiem,<br />Ciche i glosne w ten sam czas<br />Czy ktokolwiek slyszy, ze wolam? Nie.<br />O! Jak zimno byc nieslyszana dusza.<br />Byc moze sciany uslysza moje slowa?<br />Siedze jedna w tych bialych lzach i krzycze<br />By mnie uslyszeli<br />Nie slysza.<br />Spocona i cicha<br />Martwa i wroga<br />I calkiem jedna<br />Porzucona przez<br />Ludzi<br />Mysli<br />Lzy<br />Uczucia<br />Zmysly<br />Rozum<br />Rozum<br />Rozum<br />Wiare<br />Stalo sie.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/1600/Lost%20Innocence.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/320/Lost%20Innocence.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">***</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong><em>Abandoned<br /></em></strong>Inspiration! The Goddess Of Youth!<br />Let me touch you<br />How you once touched me<br />Please, you have to come back!<br />But you died for me<br />You left.<br />May haps my words are my scream<br />Whispers and shouts at the same time<br />Does anyone hear my cry for help? No.<br />It's so cold to be an unheard soul.<br />Perhaps walls could hear me out?<br />Sitting here, devoured by white tears<br />I shout.<br />For them to hear me out<br />They don't hear me.<br />Sweaty and silent<br />Dead and deadly<br />Alone<br />Abandoned by<br />People<br />Thoughts<br />Tears<br />Feelings<br />Senses<br />Mind<br />Mind<br />Mind<br />Faith<br />It happened.</span><br /><br /><strong><em>2004</em></strong>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-1154971919636595262006-08-07T19:17:00.000+03:002006-08-07T21:10:11.866+03:00|*| My Brother |*|<span style="color:#333333;"><blockquote><p><em>Hey! I decided to change again. I think I am settled now :) I love this one. The girl who made it is a genius :) Abt today's story: I think this is the most childish text I've ever written. But it has always meant so much to me. I even don't know why. I was laughing at the beginning & almost crying when I wrote the last sentence. My friend, Agata, told me her review on this text in winter, this i remember. I'll never forget these words (I quote): 'Soaa... This drunkass guy was a girl?' :D She also said that the ending was drastic cuz she thought that AT LAST Edyta wrote sumthin' funny. Not this time, I guess ;)Anywho, hope ya like it & why do I like this text? It's my own Utopia. It makes me feel cozy. It's a strange text. And yes. I am strange. Cheers!</em></p></blockquote></span><br /><br />***<br />'Hey!'<br />'Hey, what's up...?'<br />'Listen, I just ... I don't know how to tell you this, but... I don't mean to hurt you or something...'<br />'All right...'<br />'Well, it's over... Ok? I've got another girl and... Am... You know... That sort of stuff...'<br />'O... K...'<br />'Not angry?'<br />'No, no... I'm fine. Ok... Then... Bye... huh?'<br />'Hmm... Well, you took it easy... That's cool... No seriously, we can still be friends.'<br /><em>(Fuck You!)<br /></em>'Yeah sure, sure. Bye now.'<br />'Ok... Bye.'<br />I turned around. Walked slowly, I had to make you think that I was ok. I tried to breathe normally. I've almost made it... Yes, yes... That corner... That turn to the left and you won't see me. Made it!<br /><a href="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e16/_ufg_/Cute.jpg"></a><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/1600/Gangsta.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/320/Gangsta.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />And burst into tears... Tears, tears, tears... So fucking meaningless... I was just sitting there crying... Kicked that garbage can and it fell down, causing all of the smelly shit to lie chaotically on the ground. No, I didn't care. And with the sound of:<br />'You fucking goddamn asshole, you shitty slut, you worn-out bitch! You used me... You used me... He used... me... Shit...', I closed my eyes, wishing you would be back in my arms.<br />I wanted to open my eyes and see you there again, smiling, as you always were... I opened my eyes and saw the same street. Everything was the same. Only it was night.<br />'What the...'<br />I took a look around. Yeah, it was very dark. I asked this old lady for the time. And it was kind of late... Eleven PM sharp. I decided that I didn't give a shit anymore, so come on baby, let's go to the store. And so I did. Well, I didn't buy anything useful, that's for sure. Just some drinks, the hard ones. Yeah, the heavy artillery. I went to the bus stop, sat there and drunk my medicine. Hell, yeah, it felt good.<br />'To you, bitch... Cheers!', I drunk all of the liquid out of the bottle.<br />I had one more bottle. I was sitting there like an alcoholic-maniac-drug-addict-kinda-thing and that was when I noticed that all of the people, who were sitting near me, got up and decided to stand three steps further. That's right... Keep a distance, ladies.<br />'Fine... Cowards...' I opened another bottle.<br />Well, by the time I finished this bottle, I was extremely drunk. Then I remembered that I still had to get home. I looked and, hooray, there was the late bus. God bless this bus driver. I somehow got into this bus, sat in the back sit and tried to keep my head straight. Well, that was a difficult job, indeed. I almost fell asleep but then I heard that it was my stop, I struggled, held onto some guy (not less drunk than me, for sure) and got out of the bus.<br />'Thanks, dude...'<br />'Yeah, baby, don't get screwed..'<br />'Right on!'<br />Well, I entered my home, everyone was sleeping. (Wait, I forgot to tell you the story how I put my key into the key hole... Skip this? Right, ok...)<br />I closed the front door and sat there on the floor, covering my face. I sat like that, flying from planet to planet for about twenty minutes. Then I realized that I need to stay cool and not let anyone know about what happened. I crawled in the dark, like an idiot but still, I reached my room. Well, yeah, my dog was afraid of me. Thanks God, dogs can't laugh, I'd be the laughing stunt of the century, that's for sure. I took my clothes off and got into my bed. It was really cold. And my dog has always lain besides me, but not this time. No, sir. Say... Can dogs smell alcohol? (Yes, Einstein) And I fell asleep. Who knows, maybe I was snoring. But I woke up with a disgusting feeling.<br /><br />***<br />'Morning, sis...'<br />'Morning, bro...'<br />'And? What's up?', he looked at me in that suspicious way<br />'You're going to tell on me?'<br />'Well, that's the right thing to do, but... If you tell me what's up, maybe I'll reconsider.'<br />'Bullshit, Martin. Nothing's wrong.'<br />'Sure, sure. And the aliens have landed.'<br />'Seriously! Those green gooey monsters... Oh my God... When I saw them I was like... (Moment of silence) Didn't buy it, did you?'<br />'Nah...'<br />'We split up.'<br />(Moment of silence)<br />'He rang today.'<br />'And you said?'<br />'Hah...'<br />'Come on...'<br />'I said you're with my friend. Jeff.'<br />I looked down. Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! I love my big brother!<br />'And... I think he wants you back...'<br />'I hope you won't let me go.'<br />'No way. You're flying with me like... Like...'<br />'A fly on shit? - Our Beloved phrase'<br />'Coffee?'<br />'Love you...' I smiled and embraced him.<br /><br />***<br />I somehow stood up from my bed. I was holding onto walls as I made my first steps. That's right, like a newly born kid. I heard a cough.<br />I could have sworn that was my brother. I thought that I'll see him in the kitchen! Yes, he has to be there.<br />No... Not even a shadow... My mind playing tricks on me again...<br />Why did you die, bro? I always dream about you. I goddamn miss you.<br />Now let me get on with figuring out a way out of the mess I've created. It's so difficult without you.Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21271175.post-1154359828420956132006-07-31T18:08:00.000+03:002006-07-31T23:53:03.253+03:00I Died Yesterday<div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#990000;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">H</span><span style="color:#33ff33;">e</span><span style="color:#ff6666;">y</span>!</span></em><br /></strong><span style="color:#cc0000;"><strong><em>I decided that it was time to change. I must admit, I really loved my previous layout. But it started to wound my eyes. We all need changes, don't we?</em><br /><em>Anyway, today I'd like to share something that I am very proud of up to this day. By this poem, I feel a sense of acomplishment because someone of my friends (i don't remember who, remind me? Yes. Sclerosis.) said it was a <span style="color:#ffcc33;">CLASSIC.</span> Woah. That's the best compliment I have ever received. I really hope you enjoy it & tell me what do you think about it. :)</em><br /><em>The only sad thing about my new lay is that i had to wave bye-bye to Scoobz. I dunno how to make him smaller to fit in : Anyway, hope you're all fine. & (as Sams would say) Peace & Happiness in a world that lacks it. Today I dedicate this poem to the people that died in Lebanon. It's the fucking least I could do. I wish I could do more.</em></strong></span><br /><strong>***</strong><br /><span style="color:#990000;">I died yesterday</span><br />The sun was shining<br />I never said good bye<br />I died yesterday<br />The world was smiling<br />No one even saw it<br />Wait...wait...Saw what?<br />Nothing, nothing changed<br /><br />Who r u talking to?<br /><br />Someone else died with me<br />I don't remember his name<br />Jumped of a bridge<br />He only said he had himself to blame<br />Someone else died with me<br />Damn... I can't remember his name<br /><br />It's your fault<br /><br /><span style="color:#990000;">I died yesterday</span><br />But it feels like<br />I'm dying everyday<br />You made me this?<br /><span style="color:#990000;">I died yesterday<br /></span><br />You took me with you<br /><br />I didn't even touch you<br /><br />You took me with you<br /><br />Yeah, that guy died with me<br />It was all yesterday<br />Did you spot his suicide?<br /><span style="color:#990000;">I died yesterday<br /></span>Seems he was by my side<br />I remember him staying alive<br />Yeah, what's-his-name died<br /><br />I went there with you<br /><br />I didn't want you to<br /><br />I need you, I always do<br /><br />I didn't want you to<br /><br />I loved you<br /><br /><span style="color:#990000;">We died yesterday<br /></span>Hey, you! Did you see that?<br />Me and that guy, whoever he is<br />We died yesterday<br />That was the end of the world<br />Did you feel our death?<br /><br />You loved me?<br /><br />Eternally<br /><br />We talk much<br /><br />Anyway, how's life now?<br />Didn't change a bit?<br />How's Sally? Catherine?<br />Burnt candles that were never lit<br />A lot of things happened?<br />Oh, you know and by the way<br /><span style="color:#990000;">I died yesterday</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"><strong>(2005)</strong></span></div><div align="center"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/1600/Lost%20Bridge.2.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/518/2150/320/Lost%20Bridge.2.jpg" border="0" /></a></div>Edytahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02464143620834984822noreply@blogger.com36