Not even a cloud

No clouds in the horizon. This is the way summers go here.

This is good. The absence of thoughts in my head. I can act completely spontaneous. I can sit and read in the balcony surrounded by vines, I can go and walk around the old town, look at people, world moving chaotically in the streets. I can read or write poetry in the cafes, when I’m inspired by the city. Shame that more and more of franchised cafes are appearing in Vilnius. Time still disappears here. It transforms into a sea of sounds, forms, emotions and movements.

Like in a dream this reality seems made up.

How I love such Sundays

I haven’t felt so good for a long time. Everything around me seems magical. Memories are flooding my head, I can see blue sky through my window and I am free to do anything I like.

I have about one Sunday like that in every couple of months. Why can’t everyday be like that? So peaceful, so beautiful. What makes a good day so damn good? The answer is that such days have one thing incommon – loads of sunshine.

I should probably move to live to a sunnier place because UK is not famous for great weather.

I feel so inspired. I haven’t felt like this for a whole year. I’d love to do something creative. But artistic stuff and me… well they just don’t go together. Every time I paint something I must throw it away because I hate it. Even if other people really like it.

I will need to buy some paint and maybe try again. I had some ideas in my head. All the inspiration piled up during the year and I want to let it out. Usually I let out my creativity through writing. I have so many diaries everywhere.

Now I feel an urge to tidy up. My floor is covered in clothes, papers, cds and books. I want to give everything to charity and live in an empty room. All the stuff around me makes me confused. I want a white room, with white furniture and minimal decorations. I want this peacefulness to continue. I also want to hear sea roaring. It is so pretty outside right now.

 

I remember being able to fly

I remember. Summers. How I was careless. How I was myself.

I remember standing and looking at the sea. Wind taking away all my troubles and leaving me naked. Sand under my feet, rough stones on the beach and how I was running along the coast until I couldn’t run anymore.

I remember fields of wild flowers. How I was riding my bike down a long hill. Wind in my hair. Giving me wings. I would go and pick herbs. And in the evening drink fresh milk.

I remember ice cream. Me and my brother going for a walk and feeding swans. Sun kissing my skin. My hair long and curly. My bright orange swimsuit.

I remember how I went for a walk in the city on my own for the first time. How I had popcorn with my good friend. How I went to the cinema and laughed.

I feel I lost myself. I care about none important things to much. Like how my hair is wrong, or my make up smudgy. I want to be me. To not think again. To live now. Time imprisoned me. I want to escape.

It’s the end, it’s a start

Past months have been hard. Really hard. Pressure, exams, and realisations that come when you feel the worst. World is topping up on my shoulders, and I want to start again. Get a new canvas. But no… Life is not discardable.

Summers make me uplifted. Seeing my friends happy, seeing sunshine playing in the windows.  But it’s different here: clouds, depressing wind.

I’ve been thinking about people. I need friends. That’s my conclusion. I would not be who I am without people I spend most of my time with. And yet it tires me. Last year of being on my own was much more painful, so I won’t complain. I love my friends.

Another thing. Now that I have as much free time as I like, all the self consciousness comes back. All the year I have been too busy to really think about myself and my feelings. Now it’s here again. Today I stood in front of my mirror for hours. I feel disgusted by myself and it is the worst feeling.