Etīdes

* * *

rakstīja

Sound system in the rental car wasn’t as good as she was used to, but she cranked up volume a bit anyway. It felt as if angsty music was engulfing her like warm summer sea, the perfect mix of melody, anger and pain, grounding her and reminding her that we’ve already been here, we’ve already felt that and we have survived. It will hurt, maybe even for a long while, but eventually it will stop mattering.

She had something to confess to
But you don’t have the time so
Look the other way
You will wait until it’s over
To reveal what you’d never shown her
Too little much too late
Too long trying to resist it
You’ve just gone and missed it
It’s escaped your world

/Muse/

Summer ’39

rakstīja

Summer ’39 was crazy by all metrics imaginable. Global warming hit hard. Global tensions rose. She fell in love. She dreamed an hoped so hard. She failed. She cried herself to sleep more than once. She burned out. She slept.

In a crisp October afternoon she sat in a cafe with a warm coffee in hand and a dear friend across the table. Meeting with another friend was planned day after tomorrow.

Wow, this summer was a wild ride, she thought, I actually survived all of this… And somehow after such a long time I have friendships that just works again. With that… yes, I can thrive again.

* * *

rakstīja

It was a nice sunny day and I had my favorite summer dress with a wide shoulder-exposing neckline. I had to wait her only couple minutes.

– Gosh, you look so good I can’t think straight! – I greeted her.

– Then don’t, – she kissed me on the collarbone.

* * *

rakstīja

The reason why I’m not friends with most of my exes is not because I hate my exes. It is because most of my exes are men, and sadly most men don’t know how to be friends.

* * *

rakstīja

Just for a moment things made sense, all the feelings. She decided to write that down. Nobody knows when the next time will be.

* * *

rakstīja

She is so tiny compared to me. He is so big. I think so highly of them both. And yet, here I am – worried that two of my old shirts don’t fit me anymore.

* * *

rakstīja

Reizēm prātoju un nevaru izprātot, kāda būtu mana dzīve, ja es kā citi ļaudis iemīlētos cilvēkos par skaistumu, nevis par to, ka sirsnīgs cilvēks, kam rūp īstās lietas.

Jā, nē, nu kāpēc gan lai es tā darītu.

* * *

rakstīja

Man pagātnē ir vairāki tādi brīži, kur man gribas tai viņai, kas ir pagātnes es, pienākt klāt, no aizmugures apskaut, noskūpstīt pakausi un teikt “es zinu, es zinu, es zinu, šis ir briesmīgi, es par tevi parūpēšos”, aizvest prom un ļaut, lai viņa izraud visu savu sāpi saules pielietā zemeņu pļaviņā.

In the end we will grow mighty, we will?

rakstīja

Gribējās uzrakstīt kaut ko āķīgu un poētisku, bet realitāte ir tāda, ka nu vienkārši īgnums. Iemīlēties cilvēkā, par kuru pirms mēneša pateikts, ka nemaz jau tik ļoti nepatīk, ir kaitinoši. Un maza pretintereses varbūtība arī jūtas kā noiets etaps.

* * *

rakstīja

CGP Grey reiz ieteica taisīt nevis jaunā gada apņemšanās, bet tēmas. Bet, ja var gadam, kāpēc ne citiem lielākiem periodiem. Izskatās, ka pašlaik veidojas labo beigu periods. Lieta beidzas… un paliek vieglāk. Lieta beidzas – un vēl vieglāk!

2022. gada septembŗī.