A dream

Two days ago I had a dream which made me cry. That's quite usual for me.
But that night I dreamt about a person I loved very much. When he lived.
I met him in the inglorious period of my life when I spent almost half a day on chat. (I still feel a little ashamed about that:o) ). My first impression was that he was pretty quick (at writing - that's what you see as the first thing on chat). It was a difficult thing even for me (I have some 250 - 300 strokes per minute) to keep up with him. We met again after some time and we remembered each other. And our friendship began. A friendship which wasn't supposed to last for very long because of circumstances nobody could change.
One night he seemed a little depressed and then he told me the horrible truth. He suffered from cystic fibrosis (a genetic disease which affects endocrine glands) and was waiting for his death. For already more than 20 years (I'm now not so sure but I think he was 23 or something). This news struck me like a thunder. I knew his diagnosis too well. My sister died 23 years ago. Because of cystic fibrosis. This coincidence made the connection between us even tighter.
And then we fell in love with each other. Or at least I thought so. He loved me. And I suppose I loved him too. Now I know I should have suppress what I felt to avoid hurting him. Maybe what I felt was rather pity? No, no... It was love. At least at that time. I remember how jealous we were of each other. I just couldn't make this all up.
And then I met him in real life. And the reality was so cruel I failed. I failed to make his life a little bit more... beautiful? There's no word to describe it. The next day I got so drunk I was intoxicated by alcohol... And I couldn't meet him again. I couldn't. I felt so ashamed I'd failed... And I still... Please, forgive me, my dear...
Now he appeared in my dream for the first time ever. It was so strange... He told me he was healthy and I was so happy I cried. He told me he loved me. I don't know whether I felt anything in the dream. Because now I have my boyfriend and... But still I won't ever forget the one who called me "červánek" (the most beautiful nickname someone's ever given me).


James Harries - I dream

How I was touched by ***'s words

Again the same story. At first fluctuation of sexual energy, but after some hours... He "woke up", decided to be a little bit more moral for some time (again - it's never lasted very long so far) and immersed himself into deep meditation. Apparently he believes that he's able to forget the tension between us. I don't. That's the principal difference between us. The question is who's more realistic:o).
He says that once you see that longing for something means being unfree, you have the weapon to fight against your passion. That it's no use to continue with your passion and your longing, when it makes you unfree. He's partly right. But on the other hand, I don't feel I'm unfree. I decided completely voluntarily to accept my passion and my longing. It's a part of me and the most important thing in someone's life should be to accept themselves as they are. (At least unless you're a psychopath and want to do something about it.) I won't say I'm moral when I'm not. I know I should feel ashamed (?) but I've accepted it as a normal part of my life. I hate hypocrisy. I know that the whole thing about meditation is something a little different but still...

But what I wanted to say. After long sentences with many words I could hardly understand he finally told me that he's really glad he has me. That I'm one of the two women in his life he esteems (I couldn't find the right word for translation) the most. I was touched. He means the same to me. But... There's also the other aspect... Fuck.

Hmmm.....

Another rather interesting evening passed. Another interesting evening with ***. I don't believe anymore that our relationship will "improve" one day. That we'll stop provoking each other, teasing each other, thinking about s** with each other. Now I accept it as a normal part of our relationship and it can't surprise me anymore. I don't even feel guilty. No remorse. And that's not good, because when I find out that my boyfriend did something of the kind of things I do, I feel jealous and hysterical and... I'm a selfish person, I know. But who isn't in some way?

But to alleviate it a little bit... Now I have some interesting photos in my pc:o). And that says a lot about what we in fact did last night. But I found out there were some powers that didn't want us to continue apparently. Firstly, my computers started behaving rather disobediently (fortunately or unfortunately) and secondly, my mother woke up at half past one in the morning and forced me to switch everything off and go to bed.
Now I'm thinking of continuing in the stuff started last night now I'm not drunk:o). Not that I was that drunk... But even a little bit of alcohol may make you more... You know. Maybe.
But I think I'm so... hm... perverse, that being sober won't be a large obstacle:o).

The last few days

Somehow I didn't have the strength to write anything during the last few days. Instead of that I spent hours by petting virtual pets on facebook. Yes, I'm mad. But I managed to read a good few pages in several books so I wasn't just losing time.
I'll mention just a few moments as my life is mostly boring and there's no meaning in describing every detail of it.

1. Saxo (to explain the last post). My boyfriend was on his way home two days before the intended sale of that *** car. There was a car accident on the crossroads so he had to drive very very carefully. There was a huge truck on his left, intending to turn left (which seems almost incredible concerning what happened next). Suddenly the truck made an incomprehensible manoeuvre and started to move in my boyfriend's direction and then crashed into my boyfriends car just in the view of two policemen investigating the accident in front of them. It was a great night really. I went to bed (not mine) at two (or more) o'clock in the morning.
* a little note about the situation of victims in our country: when you have a car older than 5 years and someone destoys your car, the insurance company will pay only a part of the destroyed parts of the car and you'll have to pay for the rest yourself (you as the victim!!!) - no comment

2. So my boyfriend bought a new car. I've already made up a name for it. It's called Florian, shortly Flo. It's an old bmw with a huge consumption. A useful thing when the flow of crude oil to our country was a little "slowed down" (I hope the situation will soon get better, otherwise I'll have to eat the car:o) ). I'm a little afraid to drive the car (it weighs almost two tons) and I haven't tried it yet. But I suppose that the passion I have for driving will soon win over my fear and I'll make an attempt to kill myself:o).

3. We've already experienced a funny story with the car. My boyfriend called me a few days ago, sounding very sad. The first thing that came to my mind was: "Oh fuck, he's crushed a car again.". The second thing was: "Someone has stolen the car." (that's my secret nightmare - it's almost imposible to insure the car) And than my boyfriend told me: "I've locked the keys in the car." I laughed out loudly. But then he told me he's in Moravsky Beroun (about 40 km from my hometown). Sometimes I have a feeling than the world (or at least some people's world) would go to pieces without me. I had to wait for more than one hour for the train. Then I spent five minutes in Moravsky Beroun and immediately set off on the way home (this time by car - the car I've just "saved"). That day I named the car Flo.

4. My grandmother (77 years old) asked me yesterday whether I still enjoyed sex with my boyfriend. How would you answer that? I didn't know so I didn't say anything. She replied to her own question instead of me: "Maybe not so much, do you? And he's always tired in the evening so it's not a big deal, is it?" I just stared with my mouth open. HMMM.

Saxo

That fucking little car must be cursed or something. Howgh.

Depression (not mine)

The change my father has undergone is so apparent even my grandma (almost blind) saw it. For three days I was almost persuaded it was a miracle. Now I see the real reason of all this and I can't help feeling sorry for him (for the first time in my life?). His mania has finished and a new period of depression decided to visit his head for the first time in two years. He's so helpless he even agreed to visit his former psychiatrist who greeted him by saying "the return of a lost sinner" (or something similar).
He's just taken the first pill. And didn't even protest much. I hope it'll help him. He needs it and I completely understand because I know such feelings too well.
But on the other hand there's still some bitterness in me and I don't think it'll ever vanish completely. One could imagine a better childhood than this one. But when I think about it... it could also be far worse.
Be grateful to every day given to you... Nice sentence but it won't help anyone in their depression because that's a state that can't be fixed so easily. I always hate people talking about how "depressed" they are when they don't have any idea really about what a real depression is. I don't say I'm somehow special because there are too many people experiencing this all the time in this mad world. But these people usually don't use the term "depressed". I do because I like to give everything its right name.
Hmmm... Again a post about nothing.

Anniversary

Today it would be my sister's 30th birthday. If she lived. If a disease like cystic fibrosis didn't exist. Standing in front of her grave on the cemetery didn't bring any feelings to me this time. I was just empty (not that it's some special state in my case) and I didn't know what to tell her. So I just stood silent and... Maybe she understood. My little angel. My grandma has always been telling me that if you die as a child you become an angel in heaven. I somehow feel it must be true. I used to talk to my sister when I was sitting on the balcony in the evening, looking at the stars. Maybe I should start with this habit again. It might help me to arrange my thoughts.

I don't know if it's partly due to this anniversary but my parents have been spending whole nights talking about their relationship (and the last ten or twelve years of their life) in the last few days. Today I've seen them holding each other's hand for the first time in the last x years. My father has changed and everybody sees that. But he has no other choice as my mother told him that either he would restart the treatment of his mental disease or she would divorce him and would prefer not to see him ever again. This was the wisest thing she could do and I wonder why she didn't do that earlier. The life could be far easier.
But maybe it's not yet the end. But at least now there's some hope. And when there's hope...

Drunk

I've just drunk about half a beer (3 dl, not more) and I feel so dizzy I can't even use English (in fact I can't use Czech either). I suppose something wrong is going on with (and in) me.
And the whole world is even weirder when I'm in this state.
Or maybe this is the reality.
What is the reality?
It's how you see the world... Or not.
I hope I'll soon get sober because this is no good.