You will not break me, I will break free.

''Ta zelena dežela me prevzame, ko vozim po cesti do Ljubljane, tukaj imam ljubezen, tukaj sem doma.''

Also leute, hunde, katze whoever the fuck else reads my blog. I was going to post a quick three or four sentences long post today regarding a topic that really pisses me off, but I decided against it. There are far more pressing matters happening for me to whine about yet another thing driving me crazy. Lets put it this way the world drives me crazy and be done with it. 

I've been complaining a lot, I've been letting the world bring me down far too much and I think it's been enough. Basta! Bad days are okay and allowed, we're all only human after all, but all this? This is not okay. This is exactly what people in positions of power want. Mental breakdowns, separation, hostility, a ''civil war'' of sorts. When you're on your own you're far less of a threath than you are as a united nation. I don't dream that we as people will ever come to a point where we'll put our differences aside and realize we're all in the same boat, might as well row the same way. Listen this wet dream came and went, even I can't put my differences aside so I get it, (though for something important I would of done it). It would be nice but I fear impossible. 

My dad always said that people in positions of power only seem tall because you're looking at them on your knees, stand up and you'll see how the view changes. Here's the deal they did what they did in the past year to people that allowed it. They cleaned up the sheep but the wolves remain. This is something my dad also taught me, I've always been a wolf and I always will be a wolf. Both a loner and a fighter. And we'll bite, claw, growl and howl untill we either win or die. It would never not even for a second cross my mind to give in. To roll over and die. There is no power great enough to make me go against my beliefs just as there is no power and no man I'd go on my knees for, except Henry Cavill but that's in a different type scenario (Henry if you're reading, drop me a message ;) ). 

I tend to forget the long line of strong women I come from. I have this jeans vest with my greatgrandmothers medal pinned to it. I never met her, she died way before my time but I wish I knew her. She was an extraordinary woman.  This medal (and one of many she received) was awarded to her for merits gained in the fight against the enemy forces for the liberation of the country and for contribution to the building and development of a self governing socialist society. My greatgrandmother was badass, she did not take shit from nobody. She started her own business, dealt with that all while raising three kids on her own and when the war broke out she had her own spy headquarters in her own house, right under everyone's noses. All the most important names and biggest war heros passed through her doors many times during that time, people whos pictures are in museums today, people who streets in this town are named after. Of course she was ratted out, and of course she was ratted out by her family because family seems to be the worst affliction there is. And of course they all paid for it, one of them war heros that was in the house at the time, shot in the head in my grandfathers bed, and my greatgrandmother and her kids shipped off to Auschwitz. She never made it out alive.

But here's the point, she knew what's on the line, she knew what she's risking, she knew of the punishment that can follow, and she did it anyways. She fought for what she believed in. She was a wolf, she fought teeth and nail, she fought till death. And I can't but think what a god damn disappointment I would be to her if I caved now. If I was a scared little bitch. No, not me. Not today, Satan. I'm not saying it's not tough. It is. So fucking tough, and I wanted to give up many times, but I didn't, I pressed on. Through all the fucking heartache and pain. I'm still standing and I'm still fighting. 

And someday I wont be embarrassed to look into my kids eyes (furry or non furry) because I wasn't a coward, because I wasn't scared, because I didn't break down, because I fought for what I believe is right. And I know I'm not alone. They want to make me feel alone, they want to make all of us feel alone because as I said above, you alone is no threath, but all of us together? Shit you guys, cities could burn down. 

I hate having my hands tied. I hate feeling helpless. I hate being angry at the world for not being able to change anything, to make it better. I hate how talking to people feels like howling at the moon. They hear nothing, they understand nothing. I hate this state of despair and darkness. I hate this heaviness that you can literally feel in the air, it's suffocating. I absolutely hate it. It's depressing, it's thick, it's overbaring…but I need to believe it will lift. I need to believe better times are coming. I need to believe we can be free once again, else I really could lie down and wait for death. 

I know all this is rich coming from me. I'm gloomy at best on most days. So what happened? I was driving last week, listening to only local musicians, those few I like anyways, the road was rather packed so we were stopping every few miles. Normally it would piss me the fuck off but this time…I enjoyed it. All the green scenery, the mountains, the trees, rivers, animals, sunset…it was beautiful. It made me realize how much I love my home. It's the politics I hate, it's the state of the country I hate, it's the people I hate. It's the hate itself I hate, but I never hated the country itself. It's absolutely gorgeous just the foundations are rotten. But the thing is, if I ever want this place to be all it could be, the wolves have to fight, have to bite, to take back what's ours. To clear out the rotten foundations and plant new ones. Don't ask me how. I have no magical solution. Brick by brick I suppose till all the sickness is irradicated. Change is scary but there must be a change. A change for the better.

Now, because it wont let me sleep, the short post that I was supposed to post today;

''All you're getting today is a short write up because I'm annoyed and angry and about ten fucking thousand of other emotions swirling up inside me that I can't even name in English langauge. I talked to someone who asked me what I'm doing in life as in career wise. I told him I'm an artist. Because essentially that word sums me up best, even if there are more things I can do, but what I am is an artist. And said person asked me ''is that all?''. There are hardly words to explain how that fucking sets me off. Listen to me and listen to me good, it's not ''just'' an artist, it's not ''is that all''. An artist is an artist and that should be enough. It's never going to be okay that I can't ''just'' be what I want to be, and it's never going to be okay that I can't make it as a living and as a career. The fact that I can't do what I love and what I'm good at is enraging to me and the fact that people say ''you're just an artist'' in a degrading tone is just completely insulting. To end the ranting, here's my latest work. It's JUST a drawing from JUST an artist that spent JUST 60 hours of her life perfecting it. JUST.''

With nights like these, who needs the days? I shut my eyes and sleep them away.

It's Monday night and I can officially say I am done with this week. With this world. With this life. These really are the days where I wonder if I'm going crazy or the entire world around me is insane. It's probably this place though, this place that's making me want to jump out of my skin, or scream, or burn the entire fucking town down and dance on it's ashes. Preferably naked.

I can't stop thinking about that graffiti down town, about dreams and life and how meaningless it all is. ''I have no more dreams, you cannot kill me''. I can't but think about it the same way. What dreams do I still have? What do I even want anymore? From the world, from life? And you know what's the scariest part? Nothing at all. I don't have goals, wishes, dreams, desires, motivation. There's absolutely nothing that I want to be doing. There's no passion, no drive, no dream. I need to beg myself to just get up in the morning. I need to plead myself to try and read, to try and draw, to try and edit a picture, try and take a short walk in the sunshine…things I used to enjoy so much. They are just meaningless.

I wonder why all my plants are dead then I remember that at some point I just stopped watering them, stopped caring about them, like I did about myself a long fucking time ago tbh. I'd not be surprised if the sorry state of my hands would be leaving bloody patterns all over my keyboard just now. At some point I start wondering why I feel so horrible and I remember I just stopped taking my medication, because I forgot, because I didn't care, because it doesn't really matter, I just stopped caring about getting better. And like I did about everything I loved. At some point the sorry state of my bedroom with clothes and vinyl tossed about is just pathetic. Truth is I'm just tired. I'm hiding behind a ridiculous ''I'm okay'' but truth is I'm not and I haven't been okay since I was like 13. So tired of this crazy world, so tired of failure, so tired of being hurt and lost and being sad all the time. I'm so tired of lies, people pretending to care, people walking out, people using people, people hurting people. I'm so tired of all the insecurities, I'm so tired of feeling like this all the time. So tired of living tbh.

People call you brave because you got through a storm, brave because you pulled through some serious shit in your life. Brave because you came out stronger. But nobody ever sees the mess this shit storm caused you. Nobody can see just how damaged you are. People say a certain break up saves you. Friends walking out are just people you don't need in your life. Family being as toxic as one can be just makes you stronger…what if after all this you just have no strength left to fight?

What if that someday in the quote ''you will get better, not today, but someday'' never actually comes? What if all your life you're not only miserable but constantly spinning around three things; ''am I the problem?'', ''is something wrong with me?'', ''will I ever be enough?''.  A couple more questions people just don't understand. No wonder. And unrelated but still, people are silent because they're too comfortable in their own pathetic mediocre lives and too scared to have anything taken from them. Maybe that's also part of my misery, that I can't settle for something uninspiring in life. Maybe it's that I need life and adventure and romance. And happiness. Not the fake ''I'm okay'' one. But actual happiness. Whatever that feels like.

And maybe it's my sadistic nature, and my sadistic brain that makes me go over and over and over things that hurt me. Memories that hurt. Pictures that hurt. Sometimes I wonder what's the matter with me, why can't I let it go. Why do I enjoy hurting myself? Maybe because I feel like I deserve it. Maybe because I can't break free, because pain is all I know, all I known my entire life. Maybe I don't even know how to be happy, or wouldn't understand it if I was. I'd be the dumb idiot thinking she's having some type of cardiac arrest if I ever felt an ounce of happiness.

Few years back a friend asked me if I can explain to him what is it that I'm scared of. If I can actually list some fears. He was trying to make me see that most are irrational. Yes thank you I know anxiety is dumb, I know things I'm afraid of are things I really shouldn't be afraid of but here we are. At this point depression is just stupid, it's like ''oh we feel like dying today? You sound stupid, get it together bitch''. A snipped of me having a conversation with myself. I know it's stupid. I know it's ridiculous. I know fear is pointless and yet here we are. But that aside, the funny part is that all the rational fears, the ones based on things you can feel and touch, well they all came true. And I keep thinking where did I take that wrong turn to get my life to a point THIS fucking fucked up.

My brain literally hurts from inability to explain what's going on upstairs, to make things better, to move to a different point in life. To move at all. It's so hard, it's like, wanting company but at the same time wanting to be alone forever. It's like wanting to talk to someone, explain, be heard and understood and at the same time not wanting to be a burden and not knowing what to say in the first place. It's like desperately trying to understand all the emotions, and pain, and heaving chest, and at the same time it's too all consuming, choking, drowning…it's like understanding you need help and wanting to reach out and get it and understanding it's for your own good but at the same time keeping it all inside because you're afraid your own pain might cause pain to others and all it really comes out is ''I'm sorry'' or ''I'm okay''. Everything hurts when you wake up tired all the time, no ammount of sleep would help with this kinda tired so you just don't sleep at all but rather pace around and let your mind come up with scenarios so crazy they could never be true, but you know, your mind is the most dangerous weapon.

Here's one thing my daddy taught me ''don't ask people how they're doing, if you're not going to be there when they tell you they're not okay''. It's been a constant reminder these days. Empty gestures, people saying they're there when you need them, but they really aren't. Just because your world has stopped and crashed theirs wont. And that's alright. It shouldn't but pretending you'll be around, pretending that someone's pain in any way, shape or form affects you when it really doesn't, when you go on with your life like nothing happened…that's not alright. I couldn't care less but this ties up to the part about people walking out of your life. When I'm just lying in the middle of the room, wanting to all but slit open my wrists and talking to someone, and that someone tells me ''that's horrible, I feel so bad, but I have to go (enter something stupid here like ''shave my ass'') '' that is an eye opener. People don't care. And in moments like that I'm glad to be distancing myself from most people anyways.

Another smart thing daddy taught me. He told me that if I don't love myself I will never know how to love someone else. Well, I'm calling you bluff on that dad because I have never loved myself but a few other people? My god. I loved them so much I forgot what hating myself feels like. Maybe that was the point though? You never said but maybe…maybe like one of your songs says love can in fact cure hatred. I don't know though, and I don't know if I'll ever know, I think there's no space in my mind or heart left for love. Only heartbreak and pain and missing, missing so much it makes you sick.

Maybe at this point I'm no longer trying because I don't really want to be cured. I don't want to be saved. Maybe I don't want the darkness to go away because at the end of the day, after all these years, darkness is all I know.

You tell me I'm a wreck I say that I'm a mess, how can you expect anything less?

Day 627 on the alien planet. Zero updates at this point. Life is hell. 

I dreamt I was lost in the streets of Helsinki with you again. It was night time, the sky gray and gloomy, clouds leaking cold rain, your hand in mine…there is no place I'd rather be. 

I have a love hate relationship with the rain. There's nothing quite like sweet kisses in the rain, the sounds and feeling of rain drops on your face, gentle kisses, soft sighs, hearts beating faster and faster, fingers running through your wet hair, the smell of wind, rain, earth all around you, the overwhelming calm in such a moment. Or the pouring rain in the morning where you lay in your lovers arms, knowing you have nowhere to be and you just snuggle closer, feeling the warmth and happiness in someone's arms. Or maybe when it's three in the morning like it is now, when you're watching a thunderstorm outside in the distance, drinking your hot coffee, enjoying the silence. I'd entertain this idea of thunderstorms and a gothic castle, candles lit all over, pretty ball gowns, a tragic love letter with ink smeared with tears…sigh. But right now rain seems to be adding to my misery. I feel like it's not just the clouds that are pouring rain but also my soul. I feel like as soon as August turns to September and days get colder, and darker, and gloomier, so do I. Nothing is alright no more.

Ughhhhh. I keep saying it's been a bad week but Jesus Christ I think this one took first prize for the worst week ever. I don't know why I keep saying things can not get any worse because all that brings is things getting in fact much worse. I don't know what parallel world or twilight zone I found myself stuck in but everything happening lately just reached another level of fucking madness.

You know a friend of mine that I miss daily ( to a point where I give myself a panic attack, brilliant aint it? ) once told me that I need to beware of chasing a fake idea of happiness. He told me that the idea that happiness is in another place, another country, town, or in another job, or with a new partner even is utter bullshit. He told me that until I give up the idea that happiness is in another place or in another person I will never be nor happy nor where I want to be in life. Maybe I didn't quite understand it then but I do now when I feel like I'm chasing an illusion, always thinking or better hoping that the next thing will make me happy and it never does. Little did I know that one of the few things that did make me happy was him. All the dumb little things we used to do that seemed so meaningless at the time but now mean the world. There are no words for how I'd kill to be bored lying on some backstage sofa with him again and his ''shut up I'm trying to sleep''. Sigh. You really never know what you got until it's taken from you. 

It's been a tough fucking year that's all I'm saying. I never managed to really put myself back together after a tough couple of years and then 2020 and 2021 happened. And don't think I processed them yet beause honestly, mentally I'm still stuck in 2019. 

How can something missing in your life hurt this much is beyond me. How can emotional pain feel like you're having a heart attack? It's crazy. And the dumbest thing is that I'm not even dreaming of money, or luxury, or fame, or whatever else basic white girl drinking rose's wet dream is. Nah. Here I am lost in a daydream of a completely isolated day, just me and him, waking up to warm morning light on our faces and not remembering anything, no pain, no hurt, not one of them saddest nights. I am lost in a daydream where I kiss his sunkissed forehead and smile because there's nothing more beautiful than his face somewhere between sleepiness and blissfulness. I daydream of those little moments where he stands behind me and hugs me while I make him his coffee just the way he likes it and he's humming along to Aerosmith playing on my iPod. 

''Lying close to you, feeling your heart beating and I'm wondering what you're dreaming, wondering if it's me you're seeing. Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together and I just want to stay with you in this moment forever. Forever and ever.''

So much of daydreams. Nothing kinky, nothing wild, nothing crazy. Just the only comfort and only home I know. Maybe this is another problem. Everything I know about life, love, everything really, I know from books. And books lie. They make things prettier than they really are. They make love feel like magic, they make happy endings real. People don't usually die, they're not gone, they don't break your heart and in the end everything falls into place. At least that's how it is in books I read. Might be another mistake on my part. Only reading books with happy endings. There aren't any in real life are there?

Don't ask me where I'm going with this. Just rambling I suppose. As usual. Not making any sense, maybe just letting things out. Or trying to put my crazy mind in order. Imagine a computer with 30 tabs open, one playing music, one talking, and all of them freezing and shutting down. That's how my mind feels most days. Maybe that's why these posts are all over the place. I can probably switch from one topic and emotion to another in 0.32 seconds. Just like I can go from being nice to being a bitch in about the same ammount of time. 

I've been missing so many ''little things'' lately. Being bored with my best friend, lazy mornings and making coffee to my ''the one''.  Things my dad and I used to do together all the time, building tiny ranches and houses with chopped hedges and little plastic animals. I've been thinking of that one really happy memory, when we got our first dog and we camped outside in a tent so the dog wouldn't sleep alone outside for the first night. I miss ''our dinners''. Of course everyone can follow the recipe and do the same thing but it's never quite the same is it. I miss them long nights and starry skies above. I miss our old house. I just miss my old life I think, my biggest problem was finding something clean to wear, well that still is a problem but far from the only or biggest one.

It's funny how we're all in a hurry to grow up to move on from the place we're at, not knowing how badly we'll want those days back and how those were the happiest memories we got later in life. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll put on some soft music and try to get my clothes in order, which is more than I can say about my life. Putting all my shorts away and endless ammounts of jackets and sweaters in their place always makes me miserable and since it already is a miserable night…why not.

I guess I'm just looking for any kind of distraction. Distraction from the pain and the suffering and the situation at hand. I'm trying to block all the ''light'' all the hurt out. It's not as easy is it? Light will find a way just like life will. I know we'll never go truly back to ''normal'' and I despise the words ''new normal''. Nothing really is normal no more, but maybe…just maybe you're reading this in the far future, and ''this'' the situation is over. And maybe you're living your ''normal'' and maybe I'm living it with you. How I wish that were the case…

In the mean time, enjoy the weekend you guys, dance naked in the rain if you feel like it, there's not much more to look forward to in life. 

You and I are going to change the world.

I used to rant on and on and fucking on about ''post concert depression'' but I never imagined I'd come to ''no concert depression''. Oh my god you guys I am dying bit by fucking bit. It's like someone is slowly shutting the car door on my soul. It's hell. Pure and simple torture. There's absolutely nothing worse you can do to me. I was just watching a concert video. I don't know why I do that, I guess this should be called utterly sadistic or excersizing some form of animal torture. I watched till I made myself sick with missing, yearning, longing, dying…there are no words to describe how much I miss tiny, dark, sweaty venues. How I miss people rubbing and grinding over each other and sweating all over each other. How I miss the whole ''spit and sweat'' in the front row. How much I miss strangers passing water to each other that the band threw off stage, people, strangers literally sharing a water bottle. How much I miss the freedom. The love you feel in such a place. 

Sigh…

The concert video…the song ''This is where I belong''. I made myself sick with longing of the belonging (maybe this sadness makes me a poet yet). I never felt like I belong. Anywhere. School. Work. Family. Friends. I don't fit in anywhere but a venue on a Friday night. The smoke. The lights. The music. The people. My people. I'm dying without this feeling. Freedom. Music. Love. At least an animal that suffers is put down. What the fuck should I do?

You truly never know what you have until it's gone. I never took it for granted you know. My music. My concerts. My only real love in my life. But I also never thought there will be a day where I won't have it. I never imagined that listening to music will make me sick instead of happy. I didn't imagine watching a concert video will feel like being repeatedly stabbed in the heart. I never imagined it can hurt this much because I never knew how at the end of the day I'm so lonely and lost and drifting and the only sense, comfort, reason, true love in my life is music. And it's gone now. And I'm lost. More than I ever was in my life. Nothing makes sense no more. At all. I posted a story last year, hoping that 2021 will be better (optimistic bitch) and a poster of a Steel Panther concert announcement, saying if someone or something fucks it up for me I will murder half the town. I wonder why the town is still breathing at this point…

I guess some optimism remains in me yet because I didn't return the Steel Panther tickets, keeping them for the new announced date, and I bought tickets for Guns N' Roses and Aerosmith. GN'R are my babies as is and Aerosmith are a wish I haven't got to check off just yet. The worst part though might be the fact that I feel no excitment and no happiness, I'm actually thinking about what to do with the money when the tickets will be returned and what to do with the heart break and disappointment. I am absolutely broken tbh. Holding concert tickets for my favourite bands used to make me cry with happiness, now it's just…I don't know. I don't know how to describe the feeling but it sure as hell isn't happy.

I won't even add all other pain on top of this. I listened to a new song by a band I really love and the lyrics in said song ''All I want is to feel your love break through, every piece of my heart belongs to you'' killed me. Literally killed me. Literally sobbing in your dark room for an hour because you're feeling too much at nothing at once kinda killed me. Sigh. Sometimes everything is just too much. Absolutely too much and no art, no music, no nothing you used to love helps. Everything is just pain pain pain. I just want to stop feeling like this. I want to stop crying over washing an old pair of jeans and finding guitar picks in the washer when taking them out. Picks that belonged either to my ex or my dad. It's ridiculous how memories just rush in and there's nothing you can do but feel the air knocked out from you and the hurt and the anger and the sadness. Ugh. I fucking hate it. 

I realised just how low I've fallen lately when I don't even keep up with things I was so looking forward to. Like Marvel shows. Loki. Haven't seen a single episode and I used to shriek when it was announced. Sigh. Maybe the fact that I just don't care is the worst. But well I managed something else that I thought just last week was impossible. I picked up one of my million brand new books and actually read it. Yes. Shocking. I'm aware. 

I actually think that book buying and book reading should be two completely separated hobbies. Literally. I seem to enjoy buying books more than I do reading them lately. Might be another aspect of my misery but still. I just love new crisp perfect books and I buy way too many of them. I often wish I had a whole wall of shelves and books stacked by color on them. Lack of space obviously doesn't allow it so now they lay in literally LITERALLY every corner of my room. 

I've had this book for a while. I actually didn't know the author but was really drawn in because of the beautiful design. It's impossible to take a good picture of just how awesome that shiny lettering on the cover is or how beautiful the entire book is. 

I'm shallow, I picked up this book because in the TV show based on the book Ben Barnes who I think is absolutely gorgeous plays lead. No, I haven't seen the series yet but like I said I'm shallow. It was enough to get me interested. I actually very rarely read non fantasy books so clearly this one being a fantasy book I knew I'll like it. As per usual, reviews on the book were not that great, clearly something is wrong with me because I only tend to like books that get like one or two star reviews and I usually hate the top rated ones. I don't know. My brain is hardwired wrong. I'm not saying it's a drop dead amazing Tolkien or Martin type fantasy world (nobody can compete with them anyways), but honestly? Does it have to be? No. I enjoyed it that's all that mattered.

Here's a quick summary from the back cover (of a non collectors edition that is / there's at least 6 copies of this book that I know of); 

''SOLDIER. SUMMONER. SAINT.

Orphaned and expendable, Alina Starkov is a soldier who knows she may not survive her first trek across the Shadow Fold – a swath of unnatural darkness crawling with monsters. But when her regiment is attacked, Alina unleashes dormant magic not even she knew she possessed.

Now Alina will enter a lavish world of royalty and intrigue, as she trains with the Grisha – her country's magical military elite – and falls under the spell of their notorious leader, the Darkling. He believes Alina can summon a force capable of destroying the Shadow Fold and reuniting their war-ravaged country, but only if she can master her untamed gift.

As the threat to the kingdom mounts and Alina unlocks the secrets of her past, she will make a dangerous discovery that could threaten all she loves and the very future of a nation.''

Now first of, who the hell wouldn't fall under the spell of the Darkling, I mean there's nothing quite as attractive as danger. Sexy, misterious, danger. This is the first book in the series of three, there's also ''Siege and storm'' and ''Ruin and rising''. I have both but haven't read them yet. Of course. Even though I'm dying to find out what happens to the Darkling. Another reason my head is screwed on the wrong way, always falling for the bad boy. Like I said danger is ridiculously attractive. After these two there's also a spin of duology ''Six of crows'' and ''Crooked kingdom'' some fans actually say that if you're just getting into this world you should start with Six of crows. I can't say how much sense that makes but then again you also don't watch Star wars in order. There's also two brand new books ''King of scars'' and ''Rule of wolves'', different characters but same story world. Yeah my reading list is ridiculously long. I don't even know when I'll get to them all. Shall I start praying for a new lockdown then? Wouldn't really make a difference since I don't go anywhere anyways. 

You can easily tell that this fantasy world is Russian inspired. It's quite obvious in their names, clothes they wear and also the names of their magical orders; ''fabrikators'' ''corporalki healers'' ''materialki'' etc. I actually enjoyed that fact because I understood everything without a problem. Russian language is not that far removed from mine so that's a bonus for me. Of course I saw people complain about this too because you know the words are not exactly Russian but should they be? I mean book is inspired by Russia it's not supposed to BE Russian. Everyone's a critic these days I swear. 

So the story actually begins with the ''before'' part. When the Grisha show up to test the orphans and inseparable friends Alina and Malyen – Mal for powers that neither seemed to possess. Mal is the other ''eye candy''? I suppose the guy that ''normal'' girls would swoon over. You know the type, cocky, funny, kind and a head turner. All heads turn except mine wouldn't. I'd still be in a corner, salivating over the Darkling and his ''storm cloud'' color eyes. 

Alina is a perfect character because her powers aside she's so easy to relate to, she's the ''nothing special'' kinda girl, skinny, nervous, a type of girl you don't look twice at, pretty invisible type. And more of a loner except for Mal. The way the story is set, in her narrative and clean writing, it's so easy to get sucked into the story from the first moment as Alina and her regiment march into the Shadow Fold ''a swath of nearly impenetrable darkness that grew with every passing year and crawled with horrors''. The Fold is a consequence of magic going really bad and it ends up splittling the land of Ravka in two. But honestly Ravka is not haunted just by the Folds darkness, it's also haunted by the darkness of the Darkling. He'd haunt my dreams in another way if you know what I mean. Lol. Maybe it's not just danger that's attractive, maybe it's also power because he is the most powerful Grisha there is. Or maybe it's just all them pictures of Ben Barnes in black. Oh sweet baby Jesus take the wheel because I am done.

I'm trying to focus on the story here but seriously this ''figure in black'' is making things hard for me. Right, the regiment is crossing the Fold when they're attacked, by creatures called the Volcra, something winged, creepy, monstrous. It's later revealed that they're actually the farmers and their families that lived in the area when the Fold was created. You know like the Orcs, they were Elves first. The regiment is attacked and Alina, the simple map maker, unnoticable little girl, literally explodes with power and what is it? Sun summoner. She can summon light. Isn't that amazing. I mean the ability to summon light aside, but the little girl nobody thinks to look at twice, turns out to be this amazing being that could potentially save the world. Isn't that how it works in the real world too? People only know how to judge and often end up surprised when people you'd least expect turn out to be absolutelly extraordinary. 

After her gift is exposed Alina is taken to Darklings palace to learn the art of the ''Etherealki'' that can control wind, fire, water but she's the only one that can control the light, and Mal is left behind. It's safe to say she's not doing so well with her training, first because it's all new to her and second, the abscence of Mal. But that's just what makes the book great for me, character development and following Alina along her journey to learn more about her powers and the complexity of being a Grisha is really great. It's not just character development that I found great though, it's also the world building. I think it was set really perfectly and easy to get lost in while reading. 

Now I'd love to tell you all about the stag, and the magical amplifiers and that really sexy kiss but then I'd be giving everything away and where's the fun in that? Nah, you guys go read the book and see for yourself what happens. 

Honestly, I thought that the story line and the writing itself are rather incredible. Everything that is described is done so with vivid details while not over the top. It's quite an adventure to follow from start to finish, I actually finished the book in one afternoon, couldn't put it down. To be fair it might be a bit cliche the whole ''dark vs light'' fight but it's anything but, I'm really dying to find out where the story goes in the second and third part. Maybe this is what I really needed, something to really peak my interest and throw me right back into reading and a fantasy world I'll love and get lost in. Anything is better than my harsh reality. Maybe this is what or better yet where I'l let myself get lost this weekend. Lord knows after this week I'd deserve a break I'm not getting, so maybe a date with part two is just what I need. Enjoy the weekend you guys, god knows what nightmare next week brings.

P.S. No stag was harmed in the making of these photos.