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?..