Lately, I've spent a lot of time thinking about memories, remembering things and events, people, faces, colors, smells, impressions, all of what was once so important to me. after his death there are so many things - 8 (9?) years is a long time - so many memories that I just don't know where to start, what to start, how and why. I have the letters, and I have pictures, I have so much yet so little. things, memories, impressions, they will never substitute a living, breathing friend.

it's hard not to cry when you realize all that love that is around you. I have his photo on my desk, I sometimes get asked if he is my boyfriend, and the photo, it still brings me to tears.

so much love.

and now, now I'm mending my life back together, one piece at a time.

all shall pass, we ought to know that by now, but till then.. well, it's a mess till then. I'm a mess. and unfortunately, healing is not an active process, it's a process where you are simply waiting, filling your days with something else, constantly distracting yourself and not letting yourself to get even more hurt, even more cut to pieces. mend, not break. heal, not hurt. let time work wonders, and just relax. they say it all shall pass.

the world is such a lonely place, after all.

- what language do you think in?

- (after a long pause) I honestly don't know.

Lines written during the period of half-asleep

I salute you, our sleepless nights. I salute you, big moon, you orange face in the formless sky, you muse of insomniacs and dreamers. I salute you, dreams and frustrations and unfulfilled hopes and sad life stories. I salute you, empty fridge and empty bed. I salute you, meaningless talks and time-wasting entertainments. I salute you, cancelled plans, used plane tickets, missed trams and buses, cold winter coats and angry dogs. I salute you, fresh skin, light cotton, summer sunglasses and cocktail straws. I salute you, moving boxes and dirt and broken suitcases. I salute you, missed phone calls, unsent text messages and wrong addresses. I salute you, broken hearts and missed chances. I salute you, my youth.

Cinema in its very core is already a collective experience. Collective dream, as it is often called. Even though in the age of individual film watching, we still regard going to the movies as something special. As an event than needs special treatment. Cinema, it its very, very core is an event. A happening. Once in a lifetime experience.

every once in a while my world collapses on me. falls into me, my chest and all I can do is to carry it around with me hoping that somehow sometime it will get itself together again. my days consist of breaking apart and getting together again, and I can only sit and wonder while trying to keep hold of life outside myself, of this so-called objectivity outside me, of calendars and time and the way days go by. they keep repeating that one should live one day at the same time. I say hell with that, most often you can't keep track of even one minute of being here and now. honestly, I don't have the slightest hint about how to live right. I'm not really sure that there is anything right or wrong, but I do know that you can't mess with your consciousness because it's really not worth it. in the end you've fucked only yourself, not your parents, your God, your friends or whoever you wanted to impress. I guess there are many ways how you can learn. I have a feeling that my way of learning is deduction - I have no idea what's right but I have some beliefs about what is wrong. I just wish I could find out the truth through some easier way but on the other hand that would destroy the only joy I can still really feel - the joy of making my own mistakes and destroying my own little world.

I just wish I could ever fall in love again. but no, all I'm feeling is this big empty blanket of something. sort of sadness, emptiness, nostalgia and sentiment together, and there's no place in my heart for something new. so I'm sad, lonely and really tired of this all, although.. I'm really too young.

i hate farewells. not because i cry, no, i usually don't do that. but i hate the way i and people i'm telling farewell to, how we keep pretending that nothing bad or challenging is going to happen. going away is always a challenge. whether you're challenging your relationships or your own mental toughness, it's hard stuff to do. so i hate how we usually pretend, that nothing like farewell is going to take place. instead we're still talking about our daily plans and unimportant things that are going to take place, like going to a new cafe or watching that movie the critics praised in the last week's newspaper. i hate farewells, because in the end i never get to the most important, the crucial point - that i'm going to think about this person, i'm going to replay our conversations in my mind over and over just to make myself feeling ridiculous and to keep wondering what better phrases i could have used. what different, more meaningful words i should have used. because i never get to the point how much this person means to me. sometimes it's a whole life, sometimes it's just an example. but still, every person i've ever met has made an impression on me. and so i keep hating farewells, because who in the big old world wants to say goodbye to someone who has made a change in your life.