Bus

She was standing in the rain, with her purple hair stuck around her plummy cheeks. She didn't twitch when rain was dripping down her nose to her lips. Most people would; raindrops do tickle after all. Red bus would stop right by her feet, yet she did not move, her blue eyes staring towards the sky. In her hand, heavy black suitcase, it already formed bleeding marks inside of her hand. Yet she didn't put it down. Her grip was firm, as if she was scared that any passer by may steal it. Her shoes were not new, yet kept in good condition. White, with little stripe on the tip, decorating them in fancy way. With every hour, rain only grew in it's power, and even though her sweater was soaked, she didn't shiver.
Buses would come and go, stop, sometimes not even. People with children, without, old, young, same age as her. Passing by, pouring in and out in rush. Some yelled, others simply had change ready mumbling a quick "hello" to the bus driver.
At some point a young woman in red coat was rushing to the bus, almost felt, you could tell she was crying. You could tell she did her makeup in rush, her hair were not even done.
She jumped in and started to look for spare change.
Bus driver, and old man in hand-made vest looked towards her "you look like her". The girl smiled, clearly not sure of what he was talking about.
He just shook his head, counting the change "Like her, the girl who jumped under the bus last year. She had a suit case, was going somewhere. You have her face." he spoke slowly then tossed change into the box.
The bus roared and puffed large cloud of steam before driving away, as always, into same direction.

conversation

"If you had one wish, what would that wish be?" the voice was filling my ears slowly, I looked up, I couldn't see him. His body was barely visible now. I had no idea how long he was standing there but I didn't dare to ask, I was scared. I could feel my skin crawl, my nails were cutting the fabric of the bed sheets. There was a flick of a thought in my head, and even though I couldn't speak, I forced myself to. I could think, for just a moment. The thought was weak, almost to weak to even exist, yet it did glow in my brain, flickering, begging for me to let it out.
My dry lips were bleeding, and when I finally spoke it sounded like somebody was scratching board with nails "For you to brake my heart.".

the girl with the cigarette

She was short, with green eyes. No, with blue eyes. Wait, maybe with brown eyes. Yes, she was a girl with green eyes; and they smiled at you with that sort of a smile that was making you want to just go and fuck her brains out. She was not cute, maybe a little, maybe a lot, perhaps even beautiful. But you wouldn't dare to think that, all you could think of was reaching to your pocket for set of matches and setting her on fire.
Because after all, she did brake your heart.

the crime

"Black cat eh?" I thought. Crawling back to bed was so difficult, I took pills but they only bended my toes. Pulling hair didn't help, it was pointless, and skin on my back was already bleeding through the bed sheets with pink-flowery pattern.

I decided to put cat into the box, he was being to loud, to small, and unaware of what was going on. I wish he could talk and make me stop from what was going though my head, but instead, he sat in middle of the box rolled up into a ball with his pink eyes staring into the ceiling.

I took another pill, this time the pill was grey with yellow dots in middle. I had no idea what they meant but they made my skin itch. There was really no point of delaying the event so I took another stab then another. Cat in box didn't even move. He was not aware.

I crawled back to bed and let the sheets hug my naked body.
There was no shiver or a teardrop.

Just a black cat in the box watching me die slowly.

Men men men

You probably been ask this many times, who wasn't?
What is your type?
What kind of men make you blush, feel nervous even for a split second, or fill your fantasies?

No matter if you are married, single, dating, just like our partners, we also will let our eye "hang" for a moment on a man of our "dreams".

Perhaps he will be standing in the subway, reading news paper, in his grey sweater with black framed, thick glasses, worn out jeans and hair that say "I did style them into messy hairdo".
And you may eye his lips, full, colour of raspberries, or maybe skinny and curved into a small smirk. Perhaps peppered with light beard or 12 o'clock shadow or maybe clean shaved with perfect olive skin and wrapped in fresh scent of the cologne.

What would be my type?
Is it easy to just pick 4 limbs, head, attached eyes to it, hair, no hair, belly, no belly, with long legs, short legs, hairy legs, bald, with long hair, ponytail, curly hair, straight, red, blonde, black.
I am unsure.

Over the years I came to the conclusion that it's not really about a list of features that I look in a man but rather a set of qualities. Things that I can swap around, accept, exchange, find interest in even when I thought that I don't want to.

The way he walks, smiles, gazes at you, is he direct or a bit shy, cocky, to loud or maybe to shy. Maybe he will smell beautiful when brushing his lips against the side of your neck or perhaps his beautiful hands will push a lock of hair away from your face so he can stare into your eyes and tell you how beautiful you are. And you will know that he means it, because his smile will be real, and you know his knees feel weak when you around.

Or maybe he will be a macho man, tough, direct, smelling of fresh soap because that's all he will use, with shave head, perhaps a tattoo on his arm highlighting his larger bicep. Wearing plain t-shirt and pain of jeans he owned since 1998 and same plain pair of Nike's.

Will he wake you up with cup of coffee and kiss on the shoulder. Or slap in the butt and way to energetic rubbing because he can't keep his hands off you, even after a long, active night.
Or maybe he cuddle, take your scent with him to work, spending only 10-minutes in washroom.
Will he switch your favorite song playing on iTunes, or try to wrap his arms around you and spin you around in random dance, just to watch you chuckle then slap him on the shoulder because after all you are late to work and there is no time for goofing around, well maybe for a moment, for one more second, for one more kiss, for one more brief minute with his arms around you so you can feel like a princess at least once a day.

So what is my type?

All about numbers.

I was just taking a shower and thinking. You probably guess it already, yes, this is the reason why I decided to blog my thoughts.

Shower seems to always steam out all the thoughts out of my head. For some odd reason every time I step my foot into my little "oasis", I begin to think.

People sometimes ask me about my past relationship and subject of me being married comes up. And then they ask how long I been married. And the answer is always "ten years", though sometimes I lie a little and say nine. Nine always seem to sound so much less then ten, odd isn't?

And as I "admit" to the true length of my marriage, people "ah" and "oh" and blink at me with an odd stare fallowed by "But you are so young".

Yes, I am thirty years old and I been married since 1997, I separated with my ex in 2007.

If you did your math correctly, I was 18 years old when I got married (I'm a December baby and our wedding was in November).

At this point the "oh" and "ah" change into simple open-jaw-expression.

Then, the next question usually is "do you have any kids?". And my answer is short - "no".

This made me think about how people attach everything to numbers.

How long I was married would suggest I have kids. Being married at 18 could mean god-knows what. Number, number, number.

Because ten years sound like so much time, why do people automatically think that with number there is "more" to the story?

Numbers always hunt us. My mother asks me sometimes if I will have kids... because after all I am thirty. Oh my god, thirty. It doesn't matter that I am single, nor am I in love, nor I even have anyone in my life to call "my man". But what is important is the number - 30 -. Why?

We go though our life and we work everything around numbers. Our job around $$$-numbers, our social life around number of friends, our daily steps around number of water-glasses consumed.

A girl I know got married not to long ago, it's been just couple of years, but she already is being asked about number of kids. And the fact that she is not ready doesn't matter to society, because after all two years of marriage are perfect for making a nest.

What means a month of knowing somebody very well and twenty years of not knowing your own lover? Why do we admire the number of commitment instead of the true being ourselves, and doing what feels right, WHEN feels right?

Life is a strange place, but life doesn't give us second chances. If you live it and assign numbers to it, you will cage yourself in what seems to be an ideal plan, but at the end of the day you may die at 90, maybe 75. Will you ask yourself then if this is the right number to die? Did you live all those years without fear of loosing a day or a month or perhaps a year for doing something for yourself? No matter how silly or big it is? Will you ask yourself if years spend at what you been working for were worth it? Did you worked for it long enough? Did you smile the right amount of times? Did you cry enough, did you made love and wished for time to stop?

Or will you worry that when you were 12-years old you should have taken dance classes, or the bike ride with that one boy, maybe walk away from the woman who cheated on you but you didn't wanted for everyone to see that sometimes things simply don't work out?

Don't say you want time for yourself, just say that you are not ready. Why do you have to be?

Don't cry about lost years, if they are in your pass; Why not be happy with who you are because of those years?

Don't put all those numbers into jars of "anniversaries" and "celebrations of years of commitment". Put them into your pocket and smile, because you made your life your way, slow or fast, sloppy with mistakes, or flawless and full of laughters or tears - you took each step not because you had to meat the "deadline" but because it made your heart skip the beat and worth living.

How to Make Small Green Choices at Home

The effort to "go green" is more important now than it has ever been. The world has a fixed amount of natural resources and the population is expanding at an outrageous rate. Some natural resources are already depleted. So, as population growth continues to use up our limited resources, there are fewer resources available. If we want to leave our future generations with the same standard of living we have enjoyed, we all need to make an effort to contribute. Though they may not seem significant, there are little things each of us can do each day in our own home to help make a big difference. Here are some ways to get started.

Instructions

Step 1
Change your light bulbs. Compact fluorescent light bulbs use 66 percent less energy than standard incandescent bulbs and last up to 10 times longer. Replacing your old light bulbs with compact fluorescent ones can save $30 in energy costs over the life of the bulb.

Step 2
Buy "tree free" 100 percent post-consumer recycled paper. You can buy it for everything from greeting cards to toilet paper. Most tree-free paper is bleached without the use of toxic chlorine-derived bleach, so it reduces chlorine pollution in addition to saving trees.

Step 3
When you decide to put in new flooring, opt for bamboo floors. Bamboo is attractive as a building material because it is very hard, strong and dimensionally stable. Using bamboo flooring allows you to freshen up the look of your home and help the environment at the same time.

Step 4
Buy hemp rugs. They are both stylish in design and affordable. Hemp rugs are all-natural area rugs that are good for the soil. Hemp fiber is stronger than cotton and has a naturally course texture that will somewhat soften with time. The rugs actually become stronger as they wear. Hemp is also naturally resistant to rot and mildew.

Step 5
Use healthier paint. A variety of healthier paint options are now available. You can add character to the rooms of your home by painting your walls with natural paints, zero volatile organic compounds (VOC) paints and low VOC paints, all of which are considerably healthier choices.

Step 6
Make use of organic cleaning products. Natural cleaning products offer environmentally safe, cost-efficient alternatives to the toxic and potentially lethal household cleaning products used in many homes today.

Step 7
"Go green" in your garden. Incorporate used or recycled furniture in your designs. In addition, avoid all chemicals and use natural remedies. It is also a good idea to include native plants in your design. They are generally disease free, use little water and help attract beneficial wildlife. These ideas not only help the environment, but also help make your garden look beautiful.

For more info on how to improve your life, check out book by Method "Squeaky Green":