Yo.

Haven't written in ages it seems.
There ain't nothin' ta write, no seriously, it's been really boring.
I'm going to Rome with class next week, it's gonna be nothing but awesome!!! Can't wait... I'll make lots and lots and lots of photos (which I won't post here, surprise surprise ;P)  and eat lots of gelati and penne and whatnot and it'll be fuuun :)
Whateverr.
E finally understands what it means to like trains. Yay. Everyone shout Hooray, blablabla, lalala, troll.
I'm tired, gotta finish my French essay, it's a pain in the ass.

xx /P

Rain

I like rain.
But I don't like storms.
I hate storms. They make me sick. They make me want to scream.
But I like rain.
I like walking in the rain until I'm soaking wet and then come home and take a nice warm shower and then just go to bed without any worries. The rain just washes all those negative feelings away. It's kinda like meditation.
If I can't go out, I listen to this: http://www.rainymood.com/ I don't know why, but although it's the sound of a storm, I like listening to it. It's soothing.
So yeah.
That's all, I guess.
Try listening to it, it's fun :)
xx /P.

Mixed Feelings

I hate him. He says he hasn't got much time to write to me, but of course he can go play basketball with his homies any time. It takes two minutes to write a line or so, just to tell me he's alive and he cares. Obviously he's either the guy who doesn't realize he's hurting someone or he really just doesn't care. Okay. He told me a dozen times that he's not gonna make a good boyfriend. Still he could at least try! I'm ranting, I know, but it makes me really angry. It's just not fair. But still I really really miss him, which makes me even angrier because he doesn't deserve it. I hatelovenohatenolovenomissokaylove him.

heartbeat

he just called. he was the last person i expected to call, and here he was, calling. turns out he had dialed the wrong number, but still, the moment i heard his voice, my heart started galloping like i don't know what. i'm still all shaky. omg i never expected his voice to do that to me. when i see him again, i'll get a heart attack for sure, since i can't even endure his voice without almost fainting out of joy/love/whatever this weird feeling is.

shock

okay, I confess. I've been secretly checking for new updates on that blog I told you about. I don't even know how I found it, it just popped up as a suggested "page that might interest me too". And... taddadadadaaaa.... I found out that R (I know I shouldn't say this but still omg) is friggin NOT hetero like everybody thinks he is! agh!!!! I feel cheated! coz I know him like since 4 yrs, and I never realized, which is weird because usually I recognize gay people by instinct, but no, omg I am so BLIND! arghhhh...... I can't get over myself to ask him if it's true :(
Oh btw it's not E's R. jesus, never.

I wonder who the other dude is though oO

Oh and E? I think you have a new (and nosy) follower. She (I guess it's a she, I mean no guy would ever write about gossip, right?) knows about EYP and stuff, I read it on her page.

my song

Lecę, bo chcę
Lecę, bo życie jest złe
Czy są pieniądze czy nie
Lecę, bo wolność to zew
Lecę, bo wciąż kocham ciebie
Kocham cię

no translation this time <3
This is my personal song, given to me by him... he thought it suited me best

abstract me

YEP. Another change of design. haha. I'm having the need of changing everything in my life. So there. I like my blog muuuch better now. It's lively. :)
I just had 3 espressos and... actually I don't know what it was, but it was strong. My way of dealing with things.

Sweet Sixteen... the time of change.
No I'm not in my right mind right now.

xx /P.

My Baby Brother

Since I'm sick and can't go to school I've been browsing for new blogs and I just found this terribly sad, terribly beautiful blog. A mother writes letters to her baby son Noah who died 48 hours after his birth. They are seriously so heartbreaking. They remind me of my own baby brother who was still-born, Oliver. I remember that I didn't want him to be named Oliver, I preferred Alexander II, which was, in my opinion at that time, just perfect. After his funeral Mom made us write a letter or draw a picture for him so we could put it on his grave. I drew a girl in a garden with a dog and a house, and in each window there was a member of the family, except for Oliver, who was in the sun. I remember Alex (who was 5) ask Mom if it wasn't too lonely in the sun, because we were all here, on earth. She cried so much that day.
Mom laminated the pictures and and propped them up against Oliver's gravestone, but after a few days they got spoiled in the rain despite the plastic.
I still think of him sometimes, you know, about how he might look like, if I'd quarrel with him often and stuff. Because I promised myself I'd be the perfect sister for him while Mom was still pregnant with him. I used to be terrible for Alex and used to pinch him and stuff because I was awfully jealous (he used to get all the attention as the new baby, obviously). It's hard to adjust to things like that when you've been a single child for 3 years. But as an 8-year-old I could handle it, and I already planned my walks with him to the park, decided what toys of mine he was allowed to touch and which ones were sacred, everything. But I guess I never really understood that he was gone, you know, gone gone, until when I was 14. It just hit me. Maybe it was because I couldn't really miss him since I'd never known him, he was just something that was supposed to come into my life but never did, and that was that. Anyway, that was the first time I went to the graveyard on my own accord and actually "talked" to him. I watered the flowers, I threw away the wilted leaves, all the usual stuff, but it felt so much different when I did it for Oliver, not for the sake of aesthetics.
So yeah. That's the story of my baby brother.

xx /P

The first and last time I saw Oliver was in a box in hospital. He had lots of really dark hair and was wearing a baby blue romper. His skin was all blue and violet, it looked kinda weird, but somehow it wasn't repulsive or anything, it just looked... different.
I wonder what his eyes were like, since he never opened them.

Bothersome

Okay. I get it. I really do. So please, you forces up there, please stop making me see things! I've seriously had enough. Every single time I see a dude with short blonde hair and earphones I immediately think it's him. It's getting bothersome. Every time I get half a heart attack. I might die one of these days, who knows? And all because of some random guy who I thought was someone else. D, MOVE YOUR ASS AND COME HERE RIGHT NOW! .........please?

Issues

I've been thinking.

First, it seems all the byotches from my old class look like their mothers by now, so they have like the faces of 45-year-olds. Is that really what make-up does to you, or is it the alcohol and nicotine?

Second, it seems that I have absolutely no life. Is that what IB does to you, or is it just my chronic sentimental state because of a certain someone far, faaar away beyond my reach?

Third, it seems that I'm not the only one with problems with my self-esteem/state of mind/general psychological (and physical) condition. Is it a crisis every teen goes through, or is it because we just all have a really fucked up life just because?

And last, it seems that I have a very, veeery distrustful attitude towards people close to me. Is it because I've been disappointed so many times in life that I can't believe in what they tell me - like those three crucial words "I Love You" - or is it because I'm afraid of being betrayed because deep inside I know I'm the one that is capable of doing the betraying part?

I wish I knew. I really do.

Argh.

My cousin (11 years old) skipped 2 years of school and is applying for gymnasium next year. I feel... fucking degraded. Omg. And I thought I was clever when I was supposed to skip a year. Argh.
Oh yeah and some asshole has started a blog à la gossip girl; all the tatter from around here. Argh.
And my brain is totally blank... I can't concentrate on school work. Argh.
/P.