the perfect strangers..

sometimes we meet people who make us laugh..
sometimes we meet people who make us think..
or, just by being the way they are, they learn us how to live..
most of people we just pass by..
with few of them we stick together..
but sometimes..
we meet those very few who make us stop for a deep second..
giving a feeling of love..
unconditionally..
just for entering our lives for this one second..
just very few of them..
they touch our souls and leave..
even if we wish to keep them forever..





















as the matter of fact.. we never really loose them..
as long as this entry is noticed..

‘cogito ergo sum’

.

that’s a really funny one.. found this in my old diary.. the teenage thoughts.. wrote about 10 years ago.. huh.. can laugh so badly about it now..

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so this guy, descartes, a long time ago he said ‘cogito ergo sum’, which is latin for ‘i think, therefore i am’.. well apparently this made a whole lot of people go ‘..oohh, i see, that makes sense.. pretty neat that descartes..’

pfff.. pretty flawed!..

the whole deal with ‘i think, therefore i am’ is that descartes was all ‘damn.. i can’t be sure of anything!.. my senses are flawed!.. all i know for sure is i keep stressin about this stuff!..’ and then his girlfriend was all about ‘if you’re so hung up on this, then you must exist, huh baby?..’ and descartes was all ‘yeaah, that’s true.. i will write this down in latin’ (only, really, he first wrote it in french, but hey, whatever, this is the 17th century, let’s translate it into latin for no good reason!..)

isn’t it a huge logical leap?.. i mean, sure it’s indisputable that thinking is going on, but who says that descartes (or his girlfriend) is the one doing the thinking?..

you can’t have thinking in a vacuum, so something has to exist if there’s thinking going on, but to attribute that thinking to yourself just because you’re aware of it is a pretty big leap for a sceptic to make..

but no, for real.. i’m sleepy and bored!

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a moment of smile..

i guess living without too many mass media means for 10 days has inspired me of using my pen more then ever.. here is another piece from my lithuanian diary written few weeks ago.. this time much more observational and not so emotionally tinted as the last one..

going back to the places where u’ve been raised.. spoilt as a child.. moulded as a teenager.. always gives u special kick.. it’s a natural feeling for everyone and u can hardly avoid comparing and remembering the things the way they used to be and the way u find them now.. however, it’s not really about how they have changed.. but the way u did.. the way u start perceiving them differently.. and the way u observe them with the references of your very own collected baggage..

it’s always good to see familiar things around u.. walk on the streets u used to stroll back and forth.. watch people’s faces and recognize the familiar manners of expression.. accidentally bump into the ones u thought u’ll never meet again.. but not only that.. there are hundreds of changes developed through the time too.. some of them are barely visible.. other ones are shaking surprises for all your senses.. it’s always revealing to see how these places change, move on adapting new forms of development and assimilating with the former traditional assets and norms..

this time i stumbled upon this very simple and very human expression of emotions – a smile, or a laughter.. u could call it a natural expression, just as i called it ‘very human’.. but apparently it’s not.. it’s rather a cultural norm than a natural emotion..

as i can remember way back to time, smile on people’s faces was not a customary matter.. in fact there was no laughter acknowledged in public space.. no matter where u go, u won’t see people laughing or smiling without a particular reason.. if u go to the shop, a cashier won’t say a friendly ‘hello’ or ‘can i help u?’.. at school your teacher won’t give u a single smile even if your performance was excellent.. in the bus people travelling together would whisper to each other not willing to disturb the public order..

but why would u question it if u don’t know it otherwise.. if u don’t know any better?.. it was actually ‘pretty normal’.. or simply ‘the norm’.. i remember my mother always taught me: ‘be serious’, ‘don’t play too loud’, ‘be quiet in public’, ‘watch your manners’.. and it’s not that i had a strict mom.. not at all actually.. these were rather public codes, not personal matters..

weird to think about it back when right now i love smiling and even more i love hearty laughing without any particular reason.. doesn’t have to be funny.. it can be a colourful ribbon fluttering in the wind.. little girl with huge pink ice cream.. or just a heavy rain cloud chasing me into a coffee bar..

i still miss lots of smiles on people’s faces.. spontaneous behaviour and emotional sharing on the streets.. in the pubs.. at schools.. and all other public places.. following this norm i even catch myself putting an emotionless mask every time i pass people on the streets.. without much concern.. just as everyone around..

yesterday i sat in the bus in front of two schoolgirls.. very alive and full of joy.. the laud laughter filled the whole bus sometimes even turning into hysterical notes.. those two had really a ball of time.. the bus was sounding like a cacophonous orchestra with high frequency scale..

i liked sitting right in front of them.. even if most of the times i used to get an uncomfortable feeling in front of really blastingly laughing people.. but not this time.. the comic part was watching the people around who were making almost painful grimaces with condemnatory glances piercing these two enjoying youngsters.. very clearly the privacy was interrupted.. the passengers were taken out of their isolated minds and forced to pay attention to this sounding happening in the bus..

it truly made me smile.. not those two girls having their girlish fun, but the awareness of people.. awareness of joy of others.. which most of us still didn’t learn to take as a peaceful break in our busy minds..

how nice would it be if we could make other’s joy at least for a moment our own?.. how liberating would this be for our crowded overloaded thoughts?.. how colourful a day would be?..

so i guess even the laughter is a norm to learn.. even i am still learning to feel the joy of others and to make it my own.. even if that’s for a moment.. a moment of smile..

lost among the memories..

few months already.. maybe even years.. i have this tickle inside to write a blog.. i’m not a writer.. not a poet.. just someone who feels.. and sometimes wants to share it with a piece of paper.. or in this case.. with u.. my distant reader.. so here it comes, my first post.. inspired by a teardrop of past.. a little sad one.. however, it was not my intention to start this blog with a sad note.. but it turned out to be that way this time, so let it be..

this piece was written on my last trip to my home country.. with a very double-barrelled feeling.. separating celebration from pain and going back to my roots.. i didn’t know that memories will be so strong this time.. didn’t expect them flowing all over the edge.. like a leaking tap, i couldn’t turn them off, every time confronted with another black and white photo… another letter.. another smile..

i’m not someone who lives by the past.. many years ago i learned it off following one good friend’s advice: ‘don’t look back.. never look back..’ and since that time i never did.. was easily leaving places, people, read books, the ‘first times’, everything.. with no hard feelings.. just moving on.. following my future visions very clearly.. not wasting time for depressed moments remembering or comparing.. hell no.. i was progressively with the speed of light reaching my pre-established goals.. no hesitation, no insecurity.. there was no past, there was no present.. there was just ‘my future’ and by putting emphasis on ‘my’ it excluded other people, my family, my friends.. forget the lovers..

right now standing at this turning point i found myself dropped on the crossroad where all ends (or call them beginnings) meet.. and just one more time i realized this very simple thing.. this girl hitchhiking through her life was made by the holey road behind and the visionary dreams somewhere in the horizon of this road.. and just one more time i caught myself being a hopeless dreamer.. a lost nomad.. this time lost among the memories..

so here i am.. at my old desk covered with my mothers made table cloth, with little sparkling table light reminding rather a candle.. looking outside the window to the secluded and overgrown garden.. just like many years ago.. trying to do my homework pushing away ‘being in love’ joys and sorrows.. messing in the teenagers head, questioning the true and the false feelings, analysing situations..

here i am.. in my old room.. however, much too empty to recognize the spirit of the young girl who i was at that time.. no rock posters on the walls, no dry flowers and wooden straw curtains hanging on the windows, no funky colourful dresses laying all over my bed.. no incense smell.. no jamiroquai on my crashy tape recorder.. hardly recognizable.. just my bed with two flowery handmade pillows and my desk with this window reminding rather an old painting..

for the last time.. picking up my memories and saying good bye to my childhood and teenage days.. to my lithuanian proud.. to this chapter closed already so many years ago.. and still so alive right now.. sitting at this desk..


it used to be such a crowded and noisy place.. this house, big and so embraceful.. still can hear my mother’s voice singing in the kitchen, smell of home made food tickling my nose, runny feet upstairs in my brother’s room.. still remember myself sneaking out throughout this window just in front of me.. on my naked feet running on the cool gentle grass.. hiding in the trees and swinging on the roofs.. just to avoid the dinner time and piss off my folks.. childishly smoking my first cigarettes, getting drawn in the starry skies and longing to be grabbed by the magic powers or taken away by the bird.. too many thoughts.. overwhelming feelings.. butterflies in my stomach.. dreamy visions.. these last ones, however, have never changed..

right now these past shadows are much too colourful.. in contrast to this empty and sighing house where only wind makes some noise in the dusty chimney and cracking walls seem to complain about their loneliness.. outside i still hear whispering the trees and rattling the chain of our old old dog.. don’t even know who’s feeling more lonely.. me or this old trusty house.. he saw so much through all those years.. happiness and joy.. love and peace.. sadness.. lots of fights.. missings.. and more pain.. fights to survive.. and death.. madness.. and even more pain.. lots of leaves.. too many tears.. rivers of them.. flowing and flowing.. but never so much emptiness as right now.. when no one is left.. no family any longer.. just a memory of it.. and wind moaning in the empty rooms..

the days are count.. and just like love and family broke down.. the house will be destroyed..

so here i am.. to say good bye.. my home.. sweet home..

am i the one to feel unhappy who left her home too many years ago turning back to everyone who loved her?.. am i the one to feel this pain inside who saw her mother dieing on her arms at the very last moment?.. am i the one to judge my father who miserably drowned himself throughout his life taking all of us together?.. am i the one to feel misunderstood who knew her brother going mad and disappearing for life?.. am i the one to say good bye who never cared or looked back?..

do i even have a right to feel this pain inside?..