Fancy all those changes. And a taste of sincerity.

On Saturday, the English Camp ended, and on Sunday, we went to Prague with all Americans and a few Czechs (Sam, who we agreed with to go to one international church in Prague when school years starts - cool to know some Christians in that big city. Kamil, who decided to spend his life with Jesus in it, when he was at camp - encouraging, isn't it, to see such a handsome and smart guy to do that!)
In the evening, we went to a totally touristic boat trip on Vltava river with Americans, it was so cool though. We sat up the boat while the sun was going down, singing praises... and then praying for each other. It ended up in everybody crying and hugging each other, so it seemed somebody was drawn in the water during the cruise, haha.
Afterwards, me and K. hurried up to meet our old friend, who kinda insisted to see us that night. We went to a pub, but of course, we were in such mood that we ordered just a coffee, so it shocked him, 'cause he expected a few shots of vodka and going to his flat, as it happened last time at his home. Poor boy. He fed us with his stories about his work for Czech ministry of foreign affairs, official trips to Brussels, meetings with Congolese ambassadors, etc. He called me an idiot (literally) when he got to know why I'm not gonna study in London at his school next year: 'Oh, can you imagine we would be there together, what fun it would be?' he said. It almost seemed he's sorry for that, oh my! But one cannot deny he has got much more handsome (okay, I admit it's those ten kgs he's apparently put on) since we last saw him a year ago. Shame that K. was in hurry to be at time in the hotel, I'd have stayed there a little longer. Now I'm seriously considering the possibility of meeting him in Prague next week, but who knows, maybe it's not something I SHOULD do - 'cause everybody knows of my weakness for him:)
A day after, I was fired and didn't pass my driving tests. Well, to tell the truth, it didn't please me at all - my mum was right when she said I'm just not used to fail in something despite doing my best about it. In fact, I don't remember much of the way back home and following few hours, just recall waking up not crying but with bloody scratches on my hands, which kinda shocked me, 'cause I usually don't think about myself as a desperate EMO teen with suicide tendencies, hahaha.
And yesterday, we spent a night at my friends house, tasting coctails which she'd learnt to prepare at one course, listening to latest news about her new boyfriend, and discussing boys in general (hummm, maybe just some specific things about them, lol). Easily falling asleep. One check on my cell phone in the morning was sufficient for today: 'Oh shit. Look.' and I passed it to girls laying next to me.
Sometimes, I'd like to have enough courage to do was she recommended: to either delete the number or to answer that I'm already in a wonderful relationship with whoever. Of course I'm not, even though I could.
Everything I do, I put my every effort in. When I love somebody, it means every single thing in the world for me - I start to forget other friends, family, school.. I'd go to the world's end for those people. Oh, fuck. And when the great love is away, I basically feel that I gotta go away too, somewhere far far away from it. Fortunately, it will be true in a few days, sitting in plane which is taking off, eyed closed, leaving all problems behind - to find them on the same place while going back.
Is it just more difficult for me to be happy than for others or what?

Sincerity.

Certain things should have never been done, but when there's nobody to regret, there's nobody to judge.
What I need is to be sure I'm as happy as it's possible.
But am I now.
No courage to write a question mark there.
What about being six again.
What about neverending vacation.
What about jumping off.
And suppose I would have done it that if you hadn't held me.
Fortunately, no serious suicide attempts recently.
But do I hope for anything else?
Hope for somebody who'd care about my life at least as much as I do about yours.
Just let me watch.

re: picture parade

why doesn't it go on...

it's been at least ages...

someobody would surely understand...

oh my gosh, don't do this to me after three damned glasses of wine.

Vanity.

Based on a fiction story, of course.

Her cell phone started to ring in the middle of the night - it could be some time after 0200. She didn't know he'd been up to call her, so at the first moment, she was a lil' bit confused. She was staring at the number, desperately trying to realize who's that. Eventually she gave up and answered the call.
'Yup?' the attempt not to sound sleepy wasn't successful.
But it was the voice she'd dreamt of. Comfortably low, slowly articulating, well-spoken.
Two hours later, headphones were still in her ears, she was lying by the side, eyes closed, just concentrating on the person she was speaking to. Awakened like at noon.
Two days later, eyes closed, focusing her attention on the noise of cars driving outside, she was lying by him. But not the one who called her. And she wondered if she wasn't simply dreaming and it would be an elegant explanation why everything seemed so perfect that night.
She could get up and he didn't notice, 'cause he's been sleeping for a few hours already. Maybe he didn't feel any need to ask her why she's so sad. Maybe 'cause boys usually don't care.
Go and look out of the window, now. The cold wind blowing, no stars in the sky. But it's still not raining.

And suddenly there's no reason to stay there, to see him yet in the morning.

Drunk me II.

'I've Never Had It Done So Gently Before'
For M
The sweet juices of your mouth
are like castles bathed in honey.
I've never had it done so gently before.
You have put a circle of castles
around my penis and you swirl them
like sunlight on the wings of birds.
-rb-

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One more tequila please.