Separate ways

''Here we stand, worlds apart, hearts broken in two, two, two...Sleepless nights, losing ground, I'm reaching for you, you, you...Feeling that it's gone can't change your mind, if we can't go on, to survive the tide, love divides.

Someday love will find you, break those chains that bind you, one night will remind you how we touched and went our separate ways. If (s)he ever hurts you, true love won't desert you, you know I still love you though we touched and went our separate ways.

Troubled times caught between confusion and pain, pain, pain...Distant eyes, promises we made were in vain, in vain, in vain...If you must go, I wish you luck, you'll never walk alone, take care, my love, miss you, love.

Someday love will find you break those chains that bind you, one night will remind you how we touched and went our separate ways. If (s)he ever hurts you, true love won't desert you, you know I still love you, though we touched and went our separate ways.

I still love you...''

Journey

I'm sorry this post is so dark, I guess bleeding words on ''paper'' is better than bleeding all over.

''He broke your heart, he took your soul. You're hurt inside 'cause there's a hole''.

I found myself struggling lately between wanting to write and get things off my chest, finding some meaning in the madness, in the ridiculous sea of emotion I can't even begin to understand. But, more often than not I feel like I forgot how to do it. I feel like I don't know how to express myself. 

I feel like things are so messed up and it's so hard to find solid ground. Instead of growing together we're growing apart. Instead of moving on we're stuck in one place, running in circles. Pretending to care, pretending to love, pretending, pretending…

I always say how over thinking is dangerous right? Your mind spirals out of control, creating scenarios and ideas that can't be further from the truth. I keep saying my mind is my own worse enemy. Kinda. Family doesn't help. I keep thinking how can women stay in abusive relationships without realising I'm in one too. It doesn't have to be a relationship to be abusive. I kept going back to three basic questions ''am I the problem?'', ''is something wrong with me?'', ''will I ever be enough?''. Yes, yes and no. The issue here is though that everything that's wrong with me is not my fault, it's what the years of subtle abuse created. I guess I never had the chance to be normal. Well ''normal''. I realised a lot of things lately when I saw how everyone gave me distance, when all I really needed was love. 

I've been having trouble sleeping since I was real young, but it got way worse lately and someone told me that sleeping requires peace which is why I aint getting any. Ironically, he was probably right. Peace is the one thing I don't know. Nor relaxed. Nor happy. Nor okay. The closest to it that I do get is hearing ''oh it's going to be okay'', over and over and fucking over again, but the truth is, it's never actually okay. None of it. Nothing. 

I keep getting compared to other people, how I should do this, I should do that, I should be better, different, I should be like other people. I find it ironic because it never was me versus other people, it is me versus me. It's about me doing better than I was last year. I'm not. That's a fact. But someday I might. So the only person I should be compared to is me, myself and I. Wishful thinking. It's like, if you don't follow some fucked up rules of society of how life should be, if you stray from that path, bam something is wrong with you. Aren't we all different? Aren't we all individuals? Why should we lead identical lives? Why does it matter how I live as opposed to my neighbors? Why do they stick their stupid noses into my life all the freaking time when in reality they don't know a single thing about me but what they see at first glance…which I can only imagine what their conclussion gives them from the outer appearance…why do people feel the need to gossip? If you have a problem with me, how about you tell me instead of gossiping with my family and adding up lies to the list too. I don't know do people enjoy, causing drama to others? Maybe they enjoy listening to us argue and scream at each other after they cause a problem. 

Looking back at my life…I can honestly say I've been hurt more than I've been loved. I never felt like I grew up in a loving home. Honestly. I never felt loved by my friends, rather the ''last option'', I never felt like I was loved as I loved in relationships. I've been punched a lot as a child and even later, because you know that's just something you do to discipline kids, it's normal, everyone does it. And I never up untill recently understood that that's actually physical abuse, even if nothing shows on you…it's not okay. Parents actually tell you to ''stop crying or I'll give you something to cry about'' and think that's good parenting. But from the early start it taught me to solve my problems with violence which resulted in more violence. Or ignorance. We don't talk. We ignore each other and give each other ugly glances. We put each other down with words that hurt far more than hits, and you're never allowed to complain about it, because ''you're a big girl, you can handle it'' it's always brushed off as no big deal, wasn't meant that way, it's just something it's done….but like, it's been piling up for so long and…I mean is it weird I'm so fucked up that I don't understand relationships, friendships, normal human interaction? Is it weird that I constantly doubt myself? That I feel like nothing I do is good enough? That I feel like I will never be good at anything. Never achieve anything. Is it weird I don't seek out people, friendships, relationships, when I know (or at least expect) it'll only end up in hurt. For me. 

I had spent my entire life being made to feel stupid for liking things I like, the art I like, the music, the movies, made to feel stupid for caring too much about things that others don't care about. Being accused of being crazy or obsessed when in reality it was my only escape from the reality I lived in. I spent so many nights crying alone because crying is stupid, and you're an idiot for doing it, and it's just not something you do, you suck it up, you're not a fucking pussy. I spent so many days contemplating just how to disappear so I'd not be a burden to anyone no more. My mental state right now is at a point where a stranger could ask me if I'm okay or give me a hug and I might completely break down. The number of days when I survived on my own without telling anyone about it is just…I better not say.

I keep hurting myself by loving people I shouldn't. By finding excuses for them when they don't deserve them. By not being able to let someone / something go, when I should. I look back at a certain thing, certain point in my life and it's not the fact that it didn't work out that hurts so much. It's that we both walked away, knowing that neither of us wanted to walk away. I guess I always thought love is that magical thing that can fix everything. If you got love, you don't need anything else right? It'll all work out right? Love is enough to make you fight for it right? Wrong. Life is never as black and white. I think coming to realisation of just that, the fact that love will never be enough, the fact that things don't work out no matter how much you might love someone, I think that is what killed me bit by fucking bit, murdered the hopless romantic in me. Made believing in love or anything remotely conected to it impossible. To be fair all I ever wanted was the family I never had but realising now, I also never will. As I said above somewhere, straying from the path, people live different lives, maybe happiness truly just isn't meant for all of us. 

What am I actually in love with? A person? Who I was with them? The idea of love? The life that doesn't exist? At least for me? The happy family life I see in movies and social media? Though I'm aware so much of it is fake…maybe that's what I'd like, to just pretend for a little while. Fake happiness is better than no happiness right?

People say they hate the words ''what if''. You know which one I hate? ''Almost''. It's everywhere. It won't let me sleep at night. It wont leave me alone. Almost feels like home. Almost changed for the better. Almost did something. Almost got something. Almost made it. Almost happy. Almost. Almost. Almost. Almost but not quite. Not now. Not yet. Not ever…?

It's ridiculous how movies make heartbreak romantically poetically beautiful, like you're sitting on the couch drinking wine, eating chocolate with your friends, a random movie is playing and by morning you're good. Ready to face the world. What the fuck? It's nothing like that. It's more like staring at red digital numbers of your clock at four in the morning because the anxiety won't let go of you, because your mind can't shut up, because the thoughts of not being good enough are swarming in your head, because the thought of that other person is so strong that as soon as you close your eyes, their face is all you see. Sometimes it's trying to swallow down tears each time you're walking around in public and gasping because there's this huge fucking gaping hole in your chest making normal breathing impossible. Sometimes it's staring at old pictures and conversations trying to understand where and what went wrong. It's nothing like the movies. There aint nothing romantic and beautiful in heartbreak no matter what those beautiful old rock songs say. 

I guess the conclussion is that I am just different. Different than my family, different than the people I chose to surround myself with. And I think nobody ever took the time to understand, to talk, to care. People love to judge, hate, put down. If they can't force you to be like them they will rather hate you instead. And I guess I never met my family's expectations of me, so making me feel horrible and worthless for it is the logical solution. And I guess I never met expectations in relationships so not fighting for it was easier. And I guess I never met expectations of people who see friendships different than I do. I guess I never met any expectation and I guess I never will because truth to be told, I don't know how. 

Problem is how to move on? You can't chose family and I can't even begin to understand how to love someone when every night all I do is dream of someone I can't have.  People think I'm pretending, like nobody pretends to have depression, people pretend to be okay. I learned that everytime I speak up about what hurts me I get hurt even more so I just learned to shut up about it. Point here is I don't really know what's going on but it's a lot. Too much. And I don't know how to fix it. I don't know how to fix me. 

“All is fair in love and war, bollito.”

I'm a little late to the party…explaining what that crazy thing I was up to was. Well change of plan, I know y'all will be disappointed but I decided some things best remain hidden and not talked about when there's no need. All I can say on the subject is that sometimes I can be so fucking stupid and I have more luck than brain. That's all. And sometimes I'd damn well need someone to tell me I'm being stupid and to stop. Would I listen? Probably not…but still…I might at least reconsider my life choices. 

Second thing! The art thing I didn't wanna talk about earlier. I can now! Seriously calm your tits it's not THAT exciting but I'm still pretty damn proud. Alright so, one of my literally favourite pieces which came from last years Inktober, was featured in a magazine. It's a magazine that is created by the homless, they contribute pictures, poems, articles and sell it to make a living. Sometimes outsiders like me get to contribute and I got to do it, next to one of my favourite authors and a friend. So yeah in the bigger picture not such a big deal but I am overly excited and it's a big deal for me. Plus how freakin badass does it look printed? Uh I can just see what wonderful postcards it would make…if only someone (just one) would understand my print vision. 

With that out of the way I'm going to tell you about this book I read and fell in love with. It's not over the top. It's not the amazing Martin type fantasy world. It's not Lord of the rings or Hemingway. It's shallow and silly b ut my god so cute and sappy. And my hopless romantic Italian blood sometimes needs just that to get through not just the day but life. 

This book has the biggest ''oh my god I wish that was me'' energy. Really. Seriously. Totally. Because (and lets be honest ladies) who doesn't wish they had a Clark Kent look alike co worker that was secretly in love with them. And willing to go to your sisters wedding all the way in Spain as a fake boyfriend because your ex is engaged and you don't want your family's pity? Someone who buys you five tacos when you only ask for four and loves Disney movies? Someone who is stupidly romantic and says sappy shit like ''you feel complete in my arms, you feel like home''. Nobody touch me, nobody breath my way, I'm very emotional right now. Sigh. 

Before we move on, I included my favourite memories from Spain here. Since the book is in fact happening in Spain. Well part of it anyways. I was there in 2013? I think…For me Barcelona was love on first sight. Of course my heart will always belong to Italy (obviously) but Spain is something else. Sangria alone is worth it. Lol. Why do I hear Blake Shelton playin in my head? No but really, the ocean, the vibe, the city life, the passion and emotion, everything. Spain is something else. If you get the chance…go. It's amazing. So on the pic below, besides the book that is…Absinthe which is the reason for a lot of bad choices in Spain lol, a paperweight I got in aquarium Barcelona which is…oh my god…and stuff from beaches. I did mention I love the ocean right? I miss it so much these days…sigh. Enjoy some beachy pics as well while I salivate and curse the cruel fate that keeps me away from lying on a beach. Or you know, naked, somewere in Europe, on a Yacht with a Mai-tai. But here I am instead *facepalm*. 

Second thing before we get to the actual review. I will tear all y'all heartless motherfuckers hearts out with the whole ''stupid, boring, overhyped'' crap. Who invented this whole ''overhyped'' bullshit? Seriously? Can't people be hyped up about something they like anymore? And also who gave you the right to tell others when they can and can't be hyped up? And also unrelated but my god you must be a bitter lonely jackass if a little romance makes you this ill. 

Now…SPOILERS ABOVE, IF YOU HAVEN'T READ AND PLAN ON MOVE ALONG.

Seriously I'm crying. Like. This book. I don't always want to over think, sometimes I want to shut up my mind and get lost in something cute, something different, something that gives me some peace of mind and some hope that there still are nice things left on this planet. That hope is dying bit by bit though that much is clear but stories like this one…they make it a little more alive. You know how people have ''comfort food''? I don't. But I have comfort read and this is it. This book cured my mental illness and added about 20 years to my lifespan. 

Elena, bestie, thank you so much for this cutsey masterpiece, I loved it from the first page to the last, also thank you to the one who gifted this book to me, guessing correctly that I will absolutely adore it. I go all soft as is for a enemies to lovers type romance. It's everything I crave.

Now what's the story actually about. A girl Catalina. How beautiful is that name? Who I can relate to a lot. Clumsy. Yup. Has no filter and blurts out stupid things at the wrong times? Yup. Loves Game of thrones and Twilight? Fuck yes. And a boy. Aaron. Sigh. Oh Aaron. All broody, dark, Edward Cullenish tpye of man. Which is enough to make me swoon tbh. So Catalina and Aaron are co workers in NYC and they obviously do not like each other. Well so it seems, at first glance. The oldest trick in the book aint it? Those who hate each other actually love each other? Or something like that anyway. 

So Catalina does something stupid (yeah I hear ya Lina I hear ya) and tells her family that she will bring a date to her sisters wedding. A boyfriend. In order to get them off her back about being single. Problem here is that Lina does not have a boyfriend. And a neven bigger problem is that the one who offers to help her with pretending to be one is the one she can't stand. 

Seriously the whole enemies to lovers may seem over used and flat but it really isn't. It's far more complex, and interesting and it's a ''I can't put the book down and it's suddenly four in the morning'' type thing. But I am so getting ahead of myself lets go back to the begining. Lina is in NYC building a career, she's super proud of (and rightfully so), and she's there because she fled Spain after a personal disaster. What was the disaster? I aint giving everything away. Read the damn book. Lol. 

And Aaron…sometimes you'd wanna strangle him, other times you'd dream about wishing there was an Aaron in your life. I don't know why but reading about him, the looks mainly, all I saw in my head was Henry Cavill. I don't know if something is wrong with my head and all I see everywhere is Henry, or those gorgeous blue eyes, dark locks, body build to die for…is in fact very Henry like. Seriously have you seen that man's jaw? It could cut apples no joke. So Aaron, each time when he's anywhere near Catalina he's sarcastic or arrogant or downright rude, then he surprises you with little details he knows, and you see he's actually paying attention. Either to her, or just what she's saying, even if to someone else. And if that doesn't make your heart beat faster…a man that actually listens? Sigh. 

Aaron is an enigma, tense, on edge, nervous, cranky, he is the one who offers Lina to go with her to the wedding and quite honestly you have to wonder why the hell would he do that. His words and behaviour are literally all over the place (worse than PMS) but it all comes together in the end in a delicious kinda way that makes your insides warm and gooey. 

The whole writing style btw, it's light, it's witty and in the end? A little bit steamy not going to lie! Come on, lets not fool ourselves that we don't enjoy those down and dirty (onthekitchencounter) scenes. 

I'm going to cry again if I go into the whole story of a crazy Spanish family and a man willing to put up with it with a smile because she is worth it. Ahhh the cutness! The story will keep the readers on the edge of their seats with Lina's adorable craziness and the mess she has gotten herself into and it will make you not want to put the book down, needing to know just what the hell is Aarons deal. You can tell how un used to happy endings I am, I literally expected a plot twist in which we learn he's an asshole. Spoiler alert? He isn't. The entire lets pretend we're dating? He did it because he wasn't pretending! Because from the get go. Day one. He was in love with Lina and clearly a bit stupid in letting her know that. 

I am so in love with the way the story progresses all the cute little moments when they, due to their lie, are forced to be friends in the first place. Slowly exploring and getting to know each other. All the cute little moments in which you can just tell how much Aaron really cares just never lets it slip pass his rock hard exterior and Lina slowly shifting her mind and realising how wrong she was from the begining. 

And then you guys. The moment. The ultimate romantic moment I keep babbling about. Running on airports begging your other half not to leave? The one that would have me reduced to a puddle on the spot…yes that one. It happens here. Only a bit different. There has to be a little bit of drama aye? What's life without it. And in a plot twist they end…not broken up just…divided. He tells her that instead of running away she should of run to him. Sigh. Please rip out my heart it will hurt less and also…weren't we all here before? So in order to fix things…Lina does what everyone does, runs to him instead of away. It takes a shit ton of bravery and trust to give yourself to someone so completely. I'm not talking about sex mind you. I'm talking about real intimacy, your heart, body and soul type thing. And the moment she finds him again…sigh. Please turn on the waterworks because…as I said my old sappy Italian soul…and who wouldn't want such romance in their lives? All consuming. Happy. One that completes you. One that makes life worth living and shows you that the world isn't black and white but shines with all colors of the rainbow. 

Let me just point out something real quick. Men written by women do NOT exist. Obviously. And secondly they are the reason girls are single. Men like Aaron Blackford (even if fictional) just put the bar ridiculously high. A man like him should be a blueprint. Of how they should be so the world would be a better, nicer, kinder place and respectfully, he had my legs divorcing each time he did or said basically anything. Hashtag no shame. 

''But you are. You are worth all that trouble. You are worth walking through a fuckin fire. Don't you see that?''

Sigh. You know that episode of Friends with Ross crying into a martini glass ''I'm fine, I'm fine''. Yeah that's me. Right now. Pretending I'm fine while cursing the universe and it's cruel fate of never having an Aaron in my life. To end this ridiculous rant (and wish all y'all that celebrate cosmic zombies resurrection a happy Easter) I'll share the one line, favourite one, that really had my heart exploding. Perfection in written words. Seriously, thank you Elena for this, for breaking my heart and putting it back together, I loved every moment of reading this book. (Obviously since I read it in one afternoon, not wanting to put it down, those were some awkward bathroom visits just sayin. Lol. ) 

My bad habits lead to wide eyes stare into space and I know I'll lose control of the things that I say.

While I sit here and prepare myself to do something incredibly stupid next week….ahhhh stupid ideas, don't you just love those? No really. No good story ever started with ''a Friday night in'' or ''we sat around drinking apple juice…my ideas are always either pure genius or pure madness. Interesting how often those two go hand in hand is it not? Though usually, these days at least, I stay away from ideas that involve restraining orders and getting arrested. Though I am exaggerating. Surely that will not happen. Surely (she said without being sure at all, lol). Listen to me kids, when life or universe or God or the God  damn kozmos or whatever bullshit you believe in gives you lemons…you aint gonna sit around and make apple pie will you? 

I'd love to be more specific and tell you what this is about…but only later. After. In case of trouble. Being vague especially if this is ever screened for evidence. Lol. No but really calm your tits, I aint doing anything illegal, or dangerous to be fair, just stupid and I could possibly for a change act like the adult, people so intensely claim I am (wtf?). When the hell was I ever even remotely an adult? Some things just wont ever change, which is why I always tell my mother to ''stop dreaming'' when she asks me if I'll ever be normal. Listen, maybe she should take on some of the guilt for how I turned out. Both my parents. I did hit my head pretty hard at least three times as a child…god bless sometimes I wonder how am I even semi normal. On those few rare days when I am…semi normal. 

I am both excited and freaking out and actually really nervous to a point I forgot what I wanted to complain about today. Hell. My nerves are the only thing making me think that this is a really bad idea because well, I don't preform well under stress at all. Who the hell does anyways? But honestly… I aint a coward, fear is hollow with nothing around it, fear doesn't make you a coward but smart to know when to back down, don't let fear of losing keep you from playing the game blah blah blah…you know how it goes. I fucking got this. Excuse me while I give myself a pep talk because I know nobody else will. Girl you are strong, capable, sometimes severely stupid and yet resourceful and you got this. You can do this. I know y'all are probably super confused by now it'll make more sense next weekend when I explain everything. I promise.  So lets move on from the topic for now, I need a distraction and you need to stop all the wild ideas, that are no doubt planted in your heads by now after reading everything above this line. 

*20 deep breaths later* my palms never sweat because my hands are permanently ice cold and right now they're a mess. I'm a mess. Does anyone have any good calming techniques I could use? Not refering to the topic above (only a little) but for real my anxiety lately has been over the top insane. I don't know exactly what's fueling it but…hell. I keep telling myself ''get a grip girl'' and well…shit. No use. I'm really kinda getting sick and tired of how this hell is permanently controlling me, actually making it hard to act like an adult if you're constantly on the verge of throwing up or passing out. 

Never mind the hyperventilating and I aint talking a fan girl at a God damn Bon Jovi concert hyperventilating, I mean like honest to god gasping like being underwater for a whole fucking hour kinda hyperventilating. Maybe it's time for some proper medication you guys. I don't know. I despise them, they're horrible but going on like this aint going to be possible for much longer either. Sigh. 

This comes from constantly self diagnosing myself instead of actually talking to a professional you know. Don't do what I do guys. It's stupid. Maybe half of the issues I have could be avoided if I didn't do that. Or I'd have more, those I don't even know I have. Lol. 

Maybe this post could be a great starting point to share all the crazy shit and stupid ideas. Those really are the best stories and maybe I'm doing a huge mistake never sharing them. Well some at least, others might actually get me in trouble or lose those last few of you that still bother reading this crap. For real though? Thank you for doing so, I love you all. All these stories yet to share…I mean I'd love to brush them off and say ''yeah that was a weird time in my life'' but come on, lets not pretend that my entire life isn't a god damn circus. As I always say my daddy never raised a clown, he raised the whole god damn circus.

Here's a completely random word of advice for you. Before you let your parents, siblings, dogs or cats use your camera make sure you remove your cheeky naked selfies off of it first. Yes yes I hear ya who the fuck still does nudes with cameras. I know. It's always the phones but like, iPhone, the cloud? Ya it's no fun. That cloud goes from a summer breeze to winter storm in 0,01 seconds flat. So here I am, my family asking to borrow my tiny old Panasonic camera which in my vague recollection I thought I haven't used since I was in Rome three fucking years ago…and then suddenly it occurs to me…something about this beautiful red lipstick, leather jackets and nothing else underneath…did y'all do the math by now? And while I was praying to all gods that they just don't check the pictures they took and swipe just one picture too far…well…are you willing to guess what happened? Ay Papa Dios!

There was a long sermon on what the hell is the matter with me and who the hell am I sending those to. The whole ''I just felt good about my body on that particular day and wanted to document it'' didn't cut it. My family does not support body positivity let me tell you that. Pictures MUST mean they were sent to someone. Which to be fair is not wrong, half of Finland probably saw at least three of them by now, but primary focus was in fact on feeling good about myself. New lipstick, new jacket…if you got it flaunt it girl. You know how that song goes right ''When you got it, flaunt it. Step right up and strut your stuff, people tell you modesty is a virtue, but in the theatre modesty can hurt you''. Something like that…I often feel that the whole world is a stage and we're all under-rehearsed. Just bullshitting through our lines trying to get by. That's how I feel tbh, bullshitting through life, pretending to be normal. I'm great at that. Lol. Sometimes I even know just how to use my intelligence, charm and charisma (yes I do have that) in order to gain what I want. Wait, isn't that a sign that you're a sociopath? I have a lot of those to be honest, the signs…should I worry? Is this another self diagnosis tho?

A lot of this post is just completely random. I know. Might be because my brain works completely random. It always did but it's just getting worse and worse these days. Which I guess is why people have a hard time keeping up with me. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad, nobody wants someone always three paces in front of them. Or maybe…you're never bored, always trying to catch up, always an adventure, every day. It would be great for me since routine is killing me, I need excitement in all areas of my life, but I know this is not the flavour of the month for most people. Not to mention that excitement lately has been lacking as much as Sahara lacks the rain. And I am so ready for things to get exciting again but…it seems to me instead of better it's only going to get worse. I am not more cynical than I used to be…just you know. It's either me that keeps getting crazier or the entire world around me is. 

Speaking of random maybe I could keep on topic if I didn't have an open magazine on one side of the laptop and a half finished sketch on the other, all while two different Google windows are playing music simultaneously and I'm scrolling through tumblr. Too many things grab my attention and then we are where we are. In a blender. Lol. Does it happen to you too that you open Google and forget what the fuck you wanted to ask it? Because it happens to me all the fucking time.

Well lets not forget that I wanted to get to bed early. I know. I hear myself. No, I'm not sick, just a lot of plotting and planning to get done. I also hear myself say that yes, like some super villain, out to destroy half of this planet. Would it really be a bad thing though? 

Have a great week you guys, hopefully next time I pull my thoughts together I can elaborate both this mess of a post and the art related thing I'm excited about.