''History huh? I bet we could make some.''

You know what I love about books? They allow you to get away. Run. Get lost in a world that's not your own. Forget. Disappear for a while. Live a life that's better than yours, or at least easier than yours. Maybe that's why I love fantasy and romance, but hate crime. I've been...not lazy with reading lately, just preoccupied with other things. When it's about art or reading, art always wins. I think as much as running off to different worlds can be soothing, so is watching a pencil glide on a fresh new sheet of paper. My dopamine, fresh sharpened pencils, and a new block of white paper, endless possibilities to create. Tell you what though, I don't miss the frustrations or tearing my hair out when something goes wrong though. Like my favourite white pen being sold out everywhere, what is this? Insanity? Have you all lost your mind?! Maybe that's why I'm constantly stuck on the next thing, the next drawing, because it allows me to get away. Lost in the careful lines I'm making, or the precise shading I focus on, one tiny square centimeter at a time. 

Anyways I made it a point to read at least one LGBTQ related book during Pride month and since June is running out that's exactly what I did. Picked up a gay romance novel that's been sitting on my desk since...July 20th 2022. Yes I can give you an accurate date, no I am not psycho (a little but not in this situation) but I know because I bought it in Vienna before a Guns n' Roses concert. Lets not assume new releases make it here or that we're open minded enough to read gay books. The horror you guys! Two boys in love! It's the end of the world I tell you. A friend of mine does the same, reads LGBTQ books during Pride month, his choice of the month was ''Call me by your name'' which I read a while back and you can read about here ( click ), and I chose ''Red white and Royal blue'' by Casey McQuiston.

This is another ''I saw the movie before I read the book situation''. I know you guys, you don't have to say it, I'm a sinner that keeps sinning. Abomination after abomination. If there's a literary god he or she will come down just to smite me into atoms for this. 

I was intrigued from the get go because can you imagine the scandal! The first son, the son of the president of America AND a crown Prince of England? In an affair! That would be such a juicy scandal, I'm over here cursing because it's not real. Also it made me think while reading the book, what would happen if a Prince or a Princess felt this way? The crown would never allow it to be public, so they'd be forced to what, hide all their life? Marry somone they decide is a good catch, and live a fake life to please the masses? How fucked up is that? Are we still at a point where we feel people aren't supposed to be happy with who they love, because their love is different? Are we still in a place where we condemn a person, because of love. Love, you guys. Love that should be celebrated, love is the closest thing we have to magic, and the thing that is running low these days. It's so easy to hate, it's so easy to ''fall in hatred'' but it is so hard to commit, to allow yourself to be vulnerable, to fall in love...we should do more of that. No matter who with. We should take every opportunity to be happy and to feel love.

The two main characters of this book are Alex, son of the President of USA, who btw is a woman! Divorced, from Texas, Hispanic ex husband. You can tell it's fiction just from this aye? Lol. Someday maybe. Alex is a student, big into politics, big into making changes, making peoples lives better, he's cocky, he's confident, he's sure of himself, to a point where he comes off as arrogant at times, to everyone around him, except those who actually know him. I think we all know the type right? And then you have Henry. The Prince. Second child of the heir to the throne, I believe that's what the Britts call the ''spare''. Ever considered how ugly that is? You have a second child as a ''spare'' so the bloodline lives in case something happens to the oldest child? Again. Fucked up. Alex and Henry are the perfect opposites because while Alex is cocky and aloof, Henry is reserved, and maybe not shy, maybe rather coy? Calm. Quiet. He's a Prince in every sense of the word, when he has to he knows how to turn on the charm and be the perfect picture of the crown Prince, that people expect. I believe he himself said it best, ''Prince Henry belongs to the people'' and that's what he is, a perfect image for the people. This image of perfection doesn't rub well on Alex though, who has a problem with Henry since the second they met. 

On the surface they both despise eachother, but as you dug deeper in the story, you see this is the furthest from the truth as it could be. The feud started with, was it the Olympics? I think so, which were one of Alex's first events as the first son, Henry being used to the sodding circus and heartbroken over the loss of his father, came off as rude, and perhaps condescending to a very nervous Alex who got it in his head that the Prince hates him. Wouldn't it be nice if people just learned to communicate? Just talk. Speak. Open your mouth. Voice your opinion, not everyone will agree, but at least you were heard. 

So years later these two met again at a wedding, that is Henrys older brothers wedding, we all know what a big deal Britts make of Royal weddings right? I think the entire bloody country stops for a week just to celebrate it. How...I lack the proper word to convey how pointless I find Royals in the year 2024. Idiotic. And this whole feud between Henry and Alex could go under the radar if not for a huge cake covered scandal. I laughed out loud at that, because it is hilarious that accidentally smashing a 75, 000 dollar cake (seriously tho??) can cause an all out international dispute. So with the pressure of getting re-elected the President of USA sends her son back to England to ''smooth'' things over with Henry. Fix their international affairs. Let me tell you thoug it was more than affairs he was fixing. Lol. Seriously though with two ''mortal enemies'' and an international stage like this, what could possibly go wrong? 

It's funny because in the begining it was nothing but duty to their country, to their family that kept them obeying orders and tolerating each other. Smiling through the pain if you will. But that rather quickly changed to an unlikely friendship after being forced in a supply closet, during a possible shooting threat. Ah this reminds me of seven minutes of heaven, no wonder truth came spilling out. Honest conversation you guys that was all it took, to smooth things out. Talking, texting, addmittedly in the begining a lot of it was insults but texting insults went into full on love letters. Electronic that is. (Big mistake). A lot of the story is told through their text and email exchange. I'm still deciding overall if I like this or not. I mean in a way it seems like fillers but on the other hand it gives you a better insight into the character itself. 

I am going insane over the fact that it's a New Years party, where drinks are flowing, emotions are running high, the Prince who kisses Alex and sends him reeling. A literal kiss from the Prince you guys! I mean you know I'm a gothic Barbie at best, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate the irony of a Princes or true loves kiss on midnight. It came out that Henry liked Alex from the first moment and Alex was just daft. Which man isn't? Tell me ladies, how many times do we find ourselves explaining something to our men, that they are just completely oblivious to seeing? Too many times, that's how many. I gotta tell you, I absolutely loved the slow build up of their relationship, the exploration, mostly Alex, Henry know who he is from the get go, and that's apparently ''as gay as a maypole'', lol. Any Britts round here? The hell is a maypole, and why is it gay? (*Update, I got the response that it's a ''tall wooden erected pole, around which people dance during midsummer. Suddenly everything makes sense. To my SI readers, this is apparently what we call a ''mlaj''.) Alex learning about himself, and his feelings and what it all means...I loved it. Not because Casey did a really good job of conveying the message but also because it made me think about how many Alex's are out there. Maybe a book like this is exactly what they need to be brave themselves. 

It makes you think though, their relationship, their romance, it's impossible, it's doomed from the get go, like a tragic Romeo and Juliet, Samson and Delilah, Cathy and Heathcliff, Tristan and Isolde. Nothing but tradgedy. But fear not my lovelies this book does not end tragic. You know me, you know I can't stomach books with unhappy endings, and you know my best friend, you know he proof reads endings for me. It's hilarious watching peoples faces when we go buy books together, I'm a visual being, I'll pick up a book if I like the illustration on the cover, I'll hand it to him to read last two pages, and then it's either ''uh huh sister this is not for you'' or ''awww you're going to love this'' that decides if I buy it or not. I guess in a way...that's love too. Understanding that committing to a whole long ass book just to be disappointed by the end really isn't my cup of tea, and doing everything in his power to prevent it. 

It's funny you know because...I don't think this book is targeted at teenagers, and I'm pretty sure some saucy bits could make parents blush, but thinking about it, what it would mean for confused and lost teenagers to read such a book, to maybe understand better, to cope. To allow themselves to love. Hell I know I'd love books when I was younger that would make me understand me. Not sexually speaking though we've all established I may be bisexual, Angela Bassett, that's all your fault, so help me Jesus. On a serious note, parents have the talk with their kids, about the birds and bees and all that crap, I think we all had it at some point, awkward and bizarre...but let me ask you this, parents assume, they give you the safe sex speech, but...what if you're not in fact straight? Or just confused...my point is, I'm glad such books exist now, so that the LGBTQ kids have something uplifting to read and feel less alone. Let me point out again, if any of you out there need a safe space to talk, vent, cry, laugh, celebrate, confess, leave me a message here, I promise you, this space is always a safe space to talk. 

A lot of the story revolves around politics, the race to get another Presidental campaign, the campaign itself. Running for office, the press, the duties of Royalty etc. It's all...overwhelming, not to you as a reader but just thinking, the lack of freedom and the sorta opression they all live under. I'm not going to babble endlessly about the book, you have to read it, I'm not spilling the ending either, but! I will tell you about what I loved the most. 

Firstly, Zahra. She's the Presidents deputy chief of staff, often forced to essentially ''babysit'' the Presidents son, or rather fix up the messes he makes. I found that oddly, familiar, I often find myself in the same situation. But I loved her. Funny. Witty. When she told Henry she will ''Brexit his head from his body'' I laughed out loud. 

And secondly. The date. THE FREAKING DATE! I would sell my soul to Satan to have someone take me out like this. Or murder. Jury still out on that. I'm kidding. Maybe. Seriously guys, Henry took Alex in a freaking museum, in the middle of the night, when it was empty, to dance in front of an altar, joking to see if it will catch on fire. Lol. Not to mention he had everything memorised and could explain all artefacts, where they come from and what they mean. Sure a Prince should know his country's history, even if it's all stolen. But for real, I am frothing at the mouth, I am chewing glass, I am crying glitter. The perfection. Me and who? When? A date like this is everything in my book. I mean I'm not saying I didn't have a...simmilar...type of date, but the romance of this is killing me. Perfection defined on those couple of pages. 

And a couple of words on the movie, it's good sure, cast was chosen fantastic, Alex's sister apparently killed off, but of course it's nothing like the book. I think it's a staple we can surely always use. The book is always ALWAYS better than the movie. BUT! And this is exciting, the movie is getting a sequel! I went all iiiiiiiip when I heard about that. I mean it probably won't be based on a book like this is, since there is no book, but can you imagine they get married in the sequel? Oh. My. God. Now that is a royal wedding I could watch. 

Any books you recently read and loved? Re read maybe? Let me know in the comments, always open to new suggestions, that I then never get to read. I am a hopeless case like I said many times before. 

Sanctuary.

When the darkness don't let you sleep, I'ma hold you close,
And when space is all you need, I can let you go,
And if the spark in your eye goes out, I can be your glow,
Bringing you home, yeah, Bringing you home.

I see your hurt, I feel your pain,
All of our dirt is washed in the rain,
I've walked that road, I've felt that shame,
No place is home but times, they are changin'.

This is our sanctuary, we can find shelter and peace,
This is our sanctuary you are, you are safe with me.

When the race starts to take its toll, you can slow me down,
'Cause we both know that the world's turned cold,
And I just need you now,
Keep holding on, hold onto me, hold on.

You see my hurt, you feel my pain, 

All of our dirt is washed in the rain,
You've walked that road, you've felt that shame,
No place is home but times, they are changin'.

This is our sanctuary, we can find shelter and peace,
This is our sanctuary, you are, you are safe with me.

We share this hurt, we share the pain,
All of our dirt is washed in the rain,
We've walked that road, we've felt that shame,
Mmh, times, they are changin.

Our sanctuary, 
You are safe with me.

I'm fighting the changes that are tearing my heart out.

This is gonna sound like such teen angst type of post. Or, I don't know, maybe it's just teen angst in my head. It's hard to think through this pounding headache that never goes away, and the haze of emotion that's hard to decode and pin point, but none of them positive that much I know. I was just talking about that wheel of fortune thing a while back didn't I? How if things have been good and happy for a while they're bound to fall back to misery at some point. I believe I also mentioned I'm afraid of going back to those dark spaces again because they're going to feel like the deepest part of Inferno I've ever been in? Yeah. Seems about right...

I am so tired you guys. So tired of being different. So tired of being yelled at and degraded for things I can not change. So tired of having my feelings invalidated. ''Why are you so sensitive?'' ''What did I say that was so bad?'' ''Why are you making such a big deal out of nothing?'' ''What's wrong with you?''. You see, what is wrong with me? Everything and nothing. And your ''nothing'' is a big deal to me. Do people ever stop, and think before they speak? Do they ever think, that not just their actions have consequences but also that their words carry more weight than they think? To you it's nothing. To me...evil, vile, rude, mean. And I am tired of listening to it daily. Honestly? I am sorry, that I can't be normal, I am sorry I don't fit in the ''kinder, kuche, kirche'' model. People have no idea how badly I wish I was like them, stupid, content, without personal opinion, just another sheep in the flock, following the leaders and not have a single fucking care in the world. Happy in my own bubble. Or happy as a cog in a well oiled machine. NORMAL. I'm sorry that your version of adapting, where it's always ME adapting to everyone else just isn't cutting it. I'm sorry I can't fucking do that. Or better that I don't know how to do it, that I can't find boring mundane conversations ''stress relieving''. I'm sorry I have to stick out like a bruise on pale skin. I'm sorry I don't want what is supposed to be normal. I'm sorry I am apparently not in fact, normal. I'm sorry I don't have my shit together. I'm sorry the world is not a good place for people like I am. I am sorry I am ''crazy''. 

And I'm sorry, that at the end of the day an ''artist'' or as people like to say it ''failed artist'' is all I am. I don't know why that is not enough, but I'm sorry if that's all I really know how to do, express, create, scribble. I wish I was better, I wish I was more, I wish I was everything YOU wanted not me, because if not happy, maybe at least I'd live in peace. I don't know. I just wish things were different I suppose. I wish, I could break free from these barriers, I wish I could rewire my brain, I wish I could see the world, technicolor apparently like you people do. I wish I could just be whatever is supposed to be ''normal''. I wish I could want things that people find normal, white picket fence, 2,5 kids, husband, career, soccer mom car, pastel clothing, Karen hairstyle. I guess I wish I could grow up?

This is the part where I was supposed to be uplifting, where I'm supposed to tell you that it gets better. That the problem is not me, but people around me, degrading me non stop, the world which is really not made to fit people that are a bit different, a bit ''weird''. But I can't. I don't have it in me to be even a smidge positive, I'm sorry guys. The sun may be out and shining but all I'm seeing is darkness. That heavy cloud that lifted a while back? It hit full force and it feels like the world will never be happy again. All I'm seeing is sadness. All I'm seeing is...negativity. I already gave up on being understood or loved, that's out the window, but how about tolerated? Can we do that? I guess that is out of the picture too. So what gives? What remains? How do you change things that can not be changed? Do you just pretend all your life? If so...how do you make it not lead into insanity? Oh right...I used to be normal, I should just go back to that...pretending. Always pretending. Always masking, always keeping the perfect fucking facade on. Because that's what's expected of me, because nobody likes who I really am. Nobody. Nobody. Unlikable. Unlovable. 

I don't know where I'm going with this, reaching out, hoping someone out there feels the same. Making them feel less alone. Or maybe documenting my insanity for someone to read someday, when the last tiny bit of self control goes to hell, and go ''well it all makes perfect sense doesn't it''. I guess it will someday. Just not THIS day. 

I was honestly hoping an answer to all my questions lies in learning about myself. Getting an answer to why I am the way I am. And I got that. And I am grateful. But what changed? A lot. But not for the better. Worse. I expected a moment of clarity. Understanding. Sun shining through those fucking cracks we all have, and that can at the end of the day be beautiful. Golden. Love and light. New start. But what did I get instead? Darkness. Ignorance. Hatred. ''You used to be normal''. Lets face it, I never was ''normal'', I was just damn good at hiding it. And I guess I got lazy, comfortable, let people see the real me, and it was really telling to see who stayed and who bolted. Maybe the most telling is the fact that I lack support in my own family. I get it, you don't understand me, I don't understand you, but if I borrow this from my dear Keith Haring ''you don't have to know anything about art to appreciate it or to look at it. There aren't any hidden secrets or things that  you're supposed to understand.''.  Just like art, maybe some things are not supposed to be understood just accepted, appreciated as they are, dare I say loved? 

I'm not going to preach to you that it gets better, it really doesn't. I never gets any fucking better. What it does, it gets easier. You learn to live with the pain, you learn to ignore it, you learn to grow around it. Should you be forced to do it? Absofuckinglutely not. But here we are regardless, fighting the good fight. 

Salud you guys, I'm grabbing a glass of wine and praying to whatever higher power there is up there that life gets a tiny bit fucking easier. Be safe, love each other and don't forget now and always ''Free Palestine''. 

''Sold my soul to the devil for a pack of lights and a night spent in jail I can keep as a memento.''

What do you believe in? Love? Friendship? Faith? God? Magic? Vampires? Ghosts? Lately I don't believe in much. Except maybe that life is a fortune wheel, when it spins and gives you some good luck, it's bound to spin back and hit you twice as hard. What is that line in that MCR song Destroya? ''You don't believe in God, I don't believe in luck, they don't believe in us, but I believe we're the enemy''. That. We are our own biggest enemies. Was just thinking about that while constantly sabotaging myself and bringing myself down, with scenarios that never happened, and will never happen, but still play in my head like a cheap Hollywood production. And with stressing over people that are not worth a second of my time, let alone being upset about. And dwelling over the bad times instead of the good times. I don't know you guys, sometimes I just want to sit in the middle of the street and scream, maybe that would make me feel better. Get the frustrations out. Or just get me locked up. I guess that wouldn't be so bad either, if I can't get along with the so called ''normal people'' then maybe the crazies (I say this with love, no degradation to people with problems) are my crowd. We're all a little crazy after all. 

I'm still moping about the cancelled Bruce Springsteen concert yes. And I know, I KNOW, it's not the end of the world, worse things happen on this planet every day. I get that. And I know I have nothing to complain about when looking at the bigger picture, but it's heartbreaking when I spent the entire year looking forward to it, and prioritising because who the hell can afford so many expensive tickets these days? Then to have him say, oh sorry, no luck this year, maybe next year. Next year when we're all dead. I'm being pessimistic I know, but who can tell for sure? Nobody that's who. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy he cancelled and is using the time to get better, I'm just salty over cancelling THAT date, not the four in Spain starting today. I'm sorry if I have any fan readers from there, I hope you guys have fun tonight, but I'm sure if roles were reversed you'd feel the same. Another year and half a month wait time is A LOT. And it cost me Yungblud today. Which sucks even more. Y'all know I LOVE that kid. Love will tear you apart and fuck you up right? It sure feels like it right now, my love for music is tearing me apart. I guess it also doesn't help that the concert was supposed to be in Italy, Italy my beloved, I could be wasted on my third Aperol before noon, loving life at the Piazza Del Duomo but no no, no fucking Piazza or Italy, but home, doom and gloom and rain and cold. Wtf is this? It's the middle of June and I'm typing this in a hoodie. 

And it doesn't help that I got my first commission (paid in full) in a year which is a goddamn miracle believe me, I could cry glitter and candy. A commission? And paid? Impossible. Well possible. I should know better though, shouldn't I? Because when did things in my life ever go according to plan? Never thats when. What is that saying? A donkey only walks on ice once? Who does it multiple times? An idiot that's who. And who's the idiot in the story? Me. I'm the idiot. Of course the commission ends up being something I do not want to draw at all, and of course it's for a person I do not like at all. How is this even possible? Like statistically? How do the stars align like this? Also how bout aligning into something positive? Like I'd have nothing against a dinner with Tom Cruise, so next time he stares into my eyes it's not because he almost tripped over my filthy biker boots but because we're talking some deep profound shit, like is there life in space. Shut up and let a fangirl dream okay? Maybe dreams will make me feel a little bit less of a sellout, ''case closed, soul sold''. 

And it doesn't help that my fave snake ring broke, that it never stops fucking raining, that my mail got lost probably in the depths of hell when it's really two hours away and hasn't been delievered in a month, it doesn't help that though I felt overly inspired, I missed out on MerMay, it doesn't help that all I do lately is cry over dogs and sappy romantic novels, wishing my life was like a book. Wait. Romantic book. My life IS a book, only it's a horror story. Alright enough whining, I'm going to throw everything off my desk, tie my god damn hair up, get my sixth cup of coffee this morning / afternoon and see what I can do to fix at least a couple of disasters shadowing me right now. Remember kids don't drink  cappuccino after noon and Free Palestine.  

Jaz sem, ti si, Veronika.

''Svijet se čini tako beskrajan, a ja svog mogu zagrliti dvije ruke...''

Forbidden love. What is that essentially? The explanation would be something along the lines of ''forbidden love is a romance between two people that is opposed by family, friends or society, as their relationship may defy cultural, religious or societal norms''. That about sums it up, but what is it really? It's a slow painful death. It's drowning on dry land. It's the sun never shining again. It's playing with fire and getting burned. It's the craving, the pining and the what ifs. What would you do if nothing was holding you back? It's the heartbreak, the pain, the torment. It leaves you broken inside and questioning if it was even worth it...

We all know the story of Romeo and Juliet right? ''For never was a story of more woe, than this of Juliet and her Romeo''...well I'm here to tell you a sadder story. Story of a couple that lived in my own hometown. I wrote about the ''Counts of Celje'' several times, but to summarize, they were the most influential late medieval noble dynasty in the area of present day Slovenia. They were the counts from 1341 and rose to ''Princes of the Holy Roman empire'' in 1436, but unfortunally died out in 1456 with the death of Ulrik II. 

But this story is not about Ulrik, this story is about his father, Friderik II. and his Veronika. So if we go right at the start of this story, supposedly Friderik met Veronika one day while out hunting, and getting injured by a deer. Like an Angel sent from heaven with long beautiful blonde hair Veronika came running to his aid. She was a knowledgeable healer and familiar with different plants and herbs. We know what title that gave you in medieval times right? A witch. She was actually the first woman in this area accused of witchcraft but we'll get to that. Now it seems that as soon as these two laid their eyes on each other they fell in love, so romantic isn't it? One look it's all it takes. Unfortunally though, when Friderik met her he was married to his first wife Elizabeta, who died mysteriously after Friderik and Veronika met. We can all put two and two together and assume this is murder right? You know that in most cases the motive for murder is either money or love? 

The cause of Elizabeta's death was never revealed, but it's a known fact that she died the same day Friderik came to see her. I'm going to give you a theory on what happened. Poison. My wild guess. Veronika DID know a lot about healing plants, I have no doubts she knew a thing or two about poisonous ones too. Of course rumors were flying around that Friderik did it, because of course she was in the way of his one true love and a divorce is out of the question for a noble family. But there was never any evidence that would corroborate this and actually accuse him of murder. Ironically though, it seems that true love is not only worth suffering for but also killing for. Three years after his wifes death Friderik married Veronika in secret because she was not noble, their love was impossible, she was not ''good enough for him''. How many times have we heard this? How many times have we wondered if we're good enough for something, for someone? It's like...hundreds and hundreds of years later, nothing is changed, our doubts, our fears, our love...everything is mirroring, everything is basically the same. 

There's an urban legend going around about a castle, nothing but ruins remain of it today (btw Friderik had a castle build for his wife Veronika, with the money he stole from his father. Now that is extra don't you think?), piles of boulders in the middle of a forest, nature took claim of it. In the middle of the ruins, there is a very odd looking stone, a stone that looks as if it's melted. What would it take for a rock to melt? Temparatures between 600 to 1300 celsius. The story goes that Friderik and Veronika sat on the rock and kissed, and it was their burning passionate love that melted it. We know today that's bullshit but it's a nice idea aint it? Love so strong, so passionate. You know I go crazy. You know us Italians, we're all about love and passion. 

Here come the complications and the heartbreak, Frideriks father Herman II. did not like the idea of this love, first of as I mentioned Veronika was unworthy, their union was against Hermans political plans, and god forbid the inheritance! Now him being so paranoid and influential meant that he has his spies everywhere, so the news of his sons marriage came to him too. He found out his son is not only married but madly madly in love, and whats worse? The had a son together! The horror! The family went into hiding because of his fathers persecution, and this is the one time where Catholic church did something right and help them hide. A prior hid them in a convent. Out of spite and anger Herman burned down the castle Friderik build for Veronika (it was rebuid by Friderik after Hermans death but still fell to ruins later) and whats interesting is that each year on that spot, pink roses grow and bloom amongst the ruins. 

Running out of ideas Herman accused Veronika of witchcraft, beacuse it's impossible for his son to be in love right? It's impossible for him to be this crazy about someone, to be so passionate, to be so devoted...only logical explanation? She's a witch and he must be under a powerful spell. If such a thing existed can someone point me towards the witch that can cast it? I sure as hell wouldn't be against someone completely obsessed with me *coughTomCruisecough* in a healthy way that is. So Herman wanted Veronika to burn for her crimes but what makes this story unique is not only was she the first woman accused of witchcraft but she was also acquitted. She apparently had a fantastic defence and a witness statement by the very prior that hid them, which helped the charges against her to be dropped. It didn't help much though, Herman was on a war path, determined to end this love story, so he had her locked up in one of their many castles, determined to starve her to death. 

Friderik on the other hand was locked in a tower. A tower build specifically to be a jail cell for Friderik, his father apparently hoped he'll come to his senses or break the spell or whatever else he was thinking. My heart literally hurts for him, locked in that tower, no windows, no doors, and ripped away from the love of his life not knowing what fate she suffered. Can you imagine the heartbreak? Can you imagine the pain after he finally learned? I can't. It's a story so tragic it's making me want to cry. 

So Hermans plan of starving Veronika didn't pan out, locals were bringing her food, so Herman did the next logical thing. Logical in his head that is, he had his servants storm the castle and kill her. Supposedly they drowned her in a bathtub. Ironic because drowning was the second most popular way to kill a witch. Herman had their son Ivan traced and killed as well. Talk about a real ruthless animal that goes over bodies to get what he wants, even bodies of his own family. Vile. Disgusting. And one would think we evolved and grew and learned but reality is that we became even more animalistic. I keep thinking about Friderik in that tower getting the news from one of his loyal servants that dug a hole under the wall and was brining him food. I just...I think about what I would do, what I would feel and it's killing me, it's breaking my heart. 

Herman learned that at some point Friderik will have to be released, because he's his first son and heir to the ''throne''. So at literally the brink of death Herman let him go. I wonder what led to it, starvation by force or just heartbreak. I think it was the second. I think he literally felt like he had nothing to live for no more. First thing he did upon his release was to move Veronikas body to the convent they were hiding in, and out of grief never again remarried, I suppose that contributed to the dynasty dying out. Friderik gave away all his possesions to convents after that and his only death wish? To be burried next to his love. Of course it wasn't granted. Of course he had to be buried in the same church the entire family is buried in. 

Here's another dark and twisted turn in this tale. While Frideriks wish was not granted and he was not buried with the love of his life, parts of him might have been. It was not unusual in those times to bury the body, the head and the heart separate and I think we all know which part of him would of end up with her. But that's not the twist in the story, the twist is while the local museum has his skull in it's depo (supposedly that is, there's some speculation that the skulls in the museum possesion are not the counts after all, after a 1800s fire that burned down the church where they were buried, the tombs were treated unprofessionally and bodies removed in a way that left them too damaged, with no way to actually extract and compare DNA), and the last resting place of Veronika IS known, nobody knows where she is today. Story goes that she is in the ground where a torn down part of the convent (a chapel, the very same one Friderik chose as his own resting place, coincident? I think not) is but nobody knows for sure. I read once that a GPR analysis showed anomaly in the soil, and that they were able to map out an entire chapel that is supposedly in good condition, but it was never dug up and explored. 

There are several archived documents that lead to thinking she's there. In 1434 Friderik asked the Vatican for a pardon for this chapel, the chapel itself was dedicated to Mary and an institution that belonged to the Count family. And in 1428 the highest member of the Carthusian order issued ''some'' permit in connection with ''some'' chapel, upon ''some'' request by the monks in the convent. The request was to let a woman be buried in an all male convent. Now the only woman in connection to this convent is Veronika who was hiding there, so this makes sense that she'd also be buried in a place that was SO important to the both of them. The Vatican archives claim that this request was granted by the way. 

You know me. You know I'm going crazy. You know I HAVE to know how this story ended, and I hope one day we get to learn where she is, maybe even if somehow by some miracle they still ended up together. The romantic in me wants to believe that's the case anyways. Until then...here's some pictures....

''If I told you about all the darkness inside of me...would you still look at me like I am the sun?''

I talked about the purpose and concept of this blog a little while back, and how that purpose got lost along the way. ''Lost along the way'' like that one All time low song. It got me thinking if perhaps we aren't all a little lost. One way or another. And I was thinking if that's really such a bad thing? You know how it is in Italy right? You're supposed to get a little lost to discover the best and the unknown places. Maybe life is kinda like that too? Maybe you have to be a little lost to discover things you never would if you stick to the charted path. I'm one to speak right? My life was never charted, never mapped out. I don't know what I'm doing half of the time, my motto is ''fake it till you make it''. I feel like whoever claimed I'm an adult is high on crack cocaine...but...what if this mess is how my life is supposed to be? So I don't have shit figured out, fine, who does, maybe that's how it's supposed to be? Chaotic and a perfect mess like I am? Maybe I just Worship Chaos huh? I don't know...just thinking out loud. Been doing that a lot lately. Looking at things from a different angle, from a different perspective. Learning new things about myself. About life. About art. About what inspires me, about what makes me happy and content and  creative. It's been quite the journey not going to lie. Chaotic, messy, eye opening journey. 

Why do we spend so much time comparing ourselves and our accomplishments with others? Some people have it all figured out and a house and 2,5 kids and a career all before they're 25 and some don't. Why does that determine their worth? Some artists are published with tons of likes on each of their posts and some aren't, again that shouldn't determine their worth or talent? Why do people play that ''kinder kuche kirche'' boring mundane talks with you really? They don't care about your life one bit, they wanna measure you, they wanna adapt the level of respect and tone of conversation to that. That's what they're doing. Because believe me, their attitude towards you will be drastically different if you're a cleaning lady or a judge. We got lost along the way, determining our worth on things that don't matter, things that shouldn't matter. What should matter is our humanity, who we are as people, our empathy, our compassion, our amore, that should be the determining factor of what you're worth. 

And it sure as hell shouldn't be about ''finding yourself''. It should always be about creating yourself. It should be about inspiring others to create too, it should be...building the best version of you you can be, for yourself, not for others. I don't know why we allow others to influence us so much, why we allow them to dim our lights, why we adapt and change for them. Why we change to fit in? That's pure bullshit. I sure as hell strongly believe if you don't like me for me, even on my worst days, even with all my flaws, then you sure as hell don't deserve me on my good days, and you sure as hell don't deserve the good parts. Same with friendships, it's not real if I have to play pretend, walk on eggshells or change just to be accepted. I'm rather lonely, because in reality nothing, no loneliness, no nothing is worse than being in a room full of people and feeling alone. 

Ironically just a few days ago someone told me it's pure chaos in my soul, and pure madness in my head, and pure electricity in my veins, and too much love in my heart, and how that is what he loves most about me, all the things other people hate, those are his favourite. I was taken aback, because all the things everyone in my life pointed out as flaws...they're not really flaws at all. I was being made insecure because...what is a confident woman really? Capable of burning the whole world down aint she? Capable of brining every man down to his knees aint she? People say they can handle storms so you'd let them in but then it turns out they can handle a drizzle and you're a hurricane. You know what I mean? I don't know where I'm going with this, like I said pure chaos but sometimes you just gotta put it out there and hope your words resonate with someone else too. The point is I was always made believe that I was too much. Too much of this too much of that, but the irony is I was just enough for someone, only never lucky enough to be surrounded by my someones. 

I was also told recently that I'm a paradox, confusing, intriguing. Sometimes completely insecure in everything I do, sometimes confident to a point I come off narcissistic. I can be warm, kind, endearing one minute but then cold, indifferent and aloof the next. Faithful but detached, loving everyone yet hating everybody.True. But my behaviour very much depends on who it's directed at, you get what you deserve really. Some days I can spend hours just babbling about my passions, about the universe, about life, about my inspirations and creations and sometimes expecting a simple smile is too much. I was told I was an enigma without any possible way of being solved, and that I really shouldn't be anyways, some things shouldn't be understood, some things should only be accepted and / or loved as they are, don't you agree? Isn't that how art is also supposed to be? Not understood, but loved? You don't buy a painting because of a clear clean soulless bouquet of flowers that's painted do you? You buy it because you love it. You buy it with your heart. 

Which brings us to this mind blowing enlightenment I got. I told you I went all ''eat, pray, love'' right? Well differently. But same concept. Discovering things, understanding things, etc. I had a hard time understanding why people always ended up walking out of my life. It was something that happened always no matter what, and I was just thinking, what the hell is the matter with me? Why is this happening all the time? Well. It's not me. It is. But it also isn't. I honestly think people who claimed to love me never did, they loved an idea of me in their head, an illusion, a version of me I allowed them to see, not pretending per say just, showing them what I wanted them to see and keeping the rest hidden, locked away in a box. People loved the easy versions of me, the easiest things about me to love, and when they saw a glimpse under the surface...that was game over. 

And honestly thinking about it, I'm so many things to so many people. Annoying? Awful? Bitch? Aloof? Stupid? Detached? Kind? The list goes on and on...but who am I to me? How do I define me? I don't honestly even know no more. The one thing, the one thing that's a constant. Artist. Creator. That's who I am. That's who and what I'll always be, no matter what version of me you get to know, that's the one thing all versions have in common, the one thing that can not be changed or altered. 

Most days lately I just do not understand people you know? I understand I can't expect people to see, feel and understand people on the same level I do. That's my tragedy. Understanding people that will never understand me. People make me feel lately like I am drowning but I can't fucking die. All the time. That's why I prefer being alone, alone with people that do understand me, detached, not letting new people in or even close. Maybe that's why I cling to art, to music, to poems, because I desperately want to feel like I'm not alone, like someone out there understands me, and can say it better how I feel than I can.

Maybe that's why spilling my feelings on canvas is just easier. You see the polished perfect portraits but I never share the angry doodles, the paper wet with tears, the shredded pieces when anger and frustration takes over. Paper doesn't judge. Art doesn't judge. Art is a way to escape reality which I find myself needing more often lately. You know that Nietzsche actually said that ''no artist tolerates reality'' I felt that. And I feel it even more now. Reality is becoming more and more difficult to bare. I don't know where I'm going with this really, maybe in the end I am just as lost as Alice and just as mad as the Hatter.

All of these things, all the shit that happened in my life, all the fucked up friendships, relationships, family...that made me wonder if I understand love. I didn't. It made me wonder if I even know what it really is. I didn't. It made me wonder if love is worth fighting for...and all it took for me to look at that one right person and I was ready for war. And that both scares the hell out of me, and excites me. It's one of those things you know...things you don't understand but feel instead. Because you know the reality is nobody understands love, they feel it, they want it. The only issue is because people are in love with the idea of love, but nobody is willing to work for it, to sacrifice, to go to war. And it's me again that's the problem. You ask for a spark and I'll give you a wildfire. I don't know how to love a little. It's either all in or nothing.

I don't know the point I'm trying to get across really, I'm rambling, I'm puttng words out there hoping someone can relate. Letting myself fall hoping to be caught kinda thing. But I know one thing. Creation makes me happy, art defines me. And with all the chaos in me there's also so much love. Love for those who earn it, those that are like me, willing to go to war. Can you imagine what a world it would be, if love was the only thing we fought for? Yeah, me neither. 

Let me end this post with a thank you. Thank you for those that showed me love, thank you for those that inspired me, those that made me create, those that made me smile when I had nothing to smile about, those that were here for me always, even if on the other side of the world in a different time zone. Thank you thank you thank you, for showing me that there is kindness in an unkind world. 

Celebrating this man and his achievements today, thank you for the daily inspiration, I love you.