Her works


Remember the good they can do.

Have done.

Will do.


The hands they held.

Many hands, through the years.

People you loved,

others you “merely” cared about,

or cared for.

A man who loved you held your hand a few times,

never for very long.

His hands were warm,

and large,

and soft,

and gentle.


You held all kinds of hands.





Your little sister’s hand.

Soft as a sausage, you used to say.


If you wanted, you could recall his hands, of the one who hurt you so,

who almost drove you mad.


The hands of Rain, soft, white as milk,

double-jointed, so very skilled.

Sometimes you think you can almost remember what their touch felt like.

You held the hands of the dying, of the scared, the hurting.

Your friends, occasionally.

Sand, water, stone, fur, piano keys, fish skin, flowers, books, God, life and beauty…



(C) My dear friend



I miss…

I miss texting him about my horrible day

I miss texting him about my awesome day

I miss informing him how my students surprised my

I miss talking to him

I miss holding his hand

I miss leaning on his shoulder

I miss burying my head into his chest

I miss him for giving me the sense of security

I miss doing the little things I’ve hated but he loved

I miss him….

….maybe I miss him only out of habit….

…maybe I miss him altogether…

…just maybe…




Even though my relationship experiences are not many, the ones I have can serve me quite enough. I’ve been dating this man with many wonderful features and characteristics. I even said to him, he’s quite a catch because he’s what many women look for. Let’s list what he has and how great it is.

He’s caring. He cares about you physical and psychological comfort. He buys you a pillow because it’s more comfortable to sleep on separate pillows than to share one. It doesn’t matter that your cervical vertebrae are in great discomfort and you fear a headache after every night spend there, it’s the thought that counts. He asks you whether you are happy with him. And don’t know how to answer….

He’s thoughtful. He brings you flowers to prove his love for you. He brings you the ones he is persuaded you like. Does it matter that he openly asked which flowers are of your taste? His directness might be surprising, but direct questions with direct answers are what he longs for.

He’s the tactile type. He touches your hair, your lips, kisses all of your body, hugs you, always has to touch you and from time to time you have a feeling that your guy just might be a reincarnated kitty. By these different touches he, again, proves how much he loves you.

He loves your body. He says you are perfect even if both of you know he is a terrible liar. And, sincerely, he just cannot lie. Nevertheless, he’s persuaded your body is almost what he wants, what he need, he caresses you, holds you in his arms to feel the warmth of you, to smell your body odour, to connect your body, your smell, your personality with the love he has for you.

He is ambitious. He has a real potential to change the world because his outlooks on the course of society are not very plausible. He is driven to change the society, to help people who are in similar conditions as his parents – hard-working people who don’t have money to spend on unnecessary material things. He wants to treat his country from poverty. He has the mind to do this – to write an extraordinary thesis where causes and consequences are brought together, they correlate and wants to the men in politics so they can work more efficiently. Some day he will be a great man.

He’s romantic. And I mean really romantic. He is the flower guy, the guy who speaks all the words the hopeless romantics want to hear: how beautiful you are, how amazing you are, how you are the best thing which might have happened to him, how all his past relationships had to fail so he could madly fall in love with you, just you, not anyone else. He makes you feel you are meant for each other regardless all the differences. How nothing could endanger and destroy what he feels for you.

He’s everything a woman can dream of.

But all coins have 2 sides. There are always pros and cons. Day and night. Agreements and quarrels.

He loves you more than you love him. He doesn’t cope well with being confronted about his behaviour. He’d physically and emotionally dependent on you. He needs to spend with you all his weekends. He wants you to speak more than you are capable of. He wants you to call him all the sweet names and you are perfectly OK with calling him darling and saying I love you. And you mean it. You never said, felt, or heard what he is saying, making you feel, what you hear. Never in your life. You were terrified you are losing yourself for him. You overcame this fear. You did so with the help of your mother. She said: ‘If you love someone, losing part of yourself is a great sacrifice, because you’ll get so much more. Don’t be afraid. I love you.’ She was right. But then, the worlds of your lover and you collided in a much more destroying way. He thinks your life dreams are unrealistic and wrong because a life spent travelling is not a life spent well. And you though he knew how much of a wanderer you are because you created a couple shortly after you 3 weeks of (almost solo) travels. He wants you to be realistic, even though you are pragmatic AF. You were the ration in the relationship. He was the emotion. He wants to change your very self to fit him more. To lose your sarcastic remarks, spending time alone, travelling alone, not feeling chatty or touchy some days. To love him more than you can. To show him love in ways which are uncomfortable to you. To make him the most important person in your life. To devote your life to him and think about future. But you live in the moment.

You are happy with him. You love him very much. You hurt him a lot. You are so confused.

Stay true to yourself and break it off or sacrifice yourself for his happiness?




I believe that many people around the world have at least once in their lives experienced how it is to be unsure about the relationship you have with the opposite sex.

I’m not talking about crushes. I’m talking about when two adult people meet and have an adult conversation about the development of their relationship and try to “solve” the problem they got into. We all know how uncomfortable uncertainty is. One way to build the bridge over this river of despair is to have a conversation like I did. With a very good friend of mine.

Somehow we got past the point of seeing each other as simply friends. You know what I mean: occasional look, occasional innocent sleepovers with neverending conversations about yourself, your dreams, your fears, and your desires. There was no kissing involved and there still is none present. But having a feeling of immense security with other human beings (that’s what I said to him) is just too big to be omitted from the great picture. And him saying “I’d never thought I’d care about you this much” or “I really did miss you” when I was gone for 3 days is, once again, something more than what friends tell each other.

Let me be frank: from time to time I considered being something more. But I was so afraid it’d ruin the friendship we have that I was so happy he brought the subject up. I was out of the country for 3 weeks and we were in daily contact. It wasn’t always nice, but some things from the past (especially my behaviour) had to be talked through. So we talked. Every single day. For 3 whole weeks. We never did it while being in the same city.

But back to the mature conversation we had. I’m not a great talker. But I was thinking deeply about what I could tell him. I forgot half the stuff, but feeling secure and safe with him was the most palpable and important for me. He, too, expressed his views on our relationship, he gave me pros and cons of my personality. And then…

…then we decided that we’ll leave it like it is. We’ll see how the things will or won’t develop and behave accordingly. If I wanted to hug him, I’d do it. If I was uncomfortable with him flirting around trying to find someone to date, I’d tell him. This works both ways.

In the end, as I have written in my earlier entrance, tags and labels do not matter to me. I do not like the expression best friend. I do not need to know whether or not we are a boyfriend and girlfriend. If we feel comfortable around each other and just enjoy the time we spend together, why make it official by putting a label on it? Some secrets need to stay secret, so only the two of you know what’s going on and how to make the most of it.




My journey

I spent one summer month travelling around the old continent so rich in cultures and history that the only thing I was able of was to stand in awe. I’ve realised many things. And trust me, it wasn’t easy all the time. There were some tears shed not because my plan was falling apart, but because someone very dear to my heart started to question my past deeds no matter of their character.

He made me realise so many things he knows for a long time period. Yeah, I’m so inexperienced in many, many things and there are vast quantities of qualities I’ve got to learn. But all the struggle and all the effort is worth when you see that the person for whom you are trying to change for better appreciates it and makes you feel your effort is not wasted.

On the other hand, some people can make you feel like only your physical presence in their lives bonds you. That even tough they are very creative with words, the have absolutely no need to contact you. And that hurts. A lot. Mainly because you thought you were sort of best friends, even if you hate the term. But the longer you know her, the more mysterious or even mystical she seems to be. Yet you’d give her your whole heart.

If there was only one thing I’ve come to realise throughout the last mont it would be this:

People are the best and the worst thing that could happen to you. You have no power over how much they can hurt you. You cannot influence their power over you. Yet you can decide how you’ll cope and either fight for them or lose them forever.




Dear (best) friend!

You know I hate the labels, thus the parentheses.

Do you know what sucks? When the people you love, you cherish, and appreciate for what they are, for what they are capable of, for what they long for and want to achieve underestimate their own powers. I know it’s stupid to brag about things you can do. But why always bring out only the negative aspects of your personality? It’s okay to mention them from time to time, I suppose. But when I am constantly bombarded by the fact that you lack healthy self-consciousness and lack the proper self-awareness, it really bothers me. In times like these, I feel like I need to help you that I want to help you for your own sake and also for the sake of our friendship.

I hate it when I have to face situations I cannot change whatsoever. I am here for you, to hear you out, to propose the solutions I in my own limited brain feel could work. But when you refuse to participate? When you refuse to do anything about the issue which bothers you the most, the issue we’ve already discussed millions of times, and you still haven’t found the strength, the inner power, the will to change it.

Why do I always feel that I have to apologise for my behaviour during our most serious conversations? Why do I have to make amends in order to be content, to not feel like you are slipping away, that the gap between us is becoming gorge and the vast space is filled with the unspoken? Why, just why, do we have to end almost all our serious conversations with you sending: ‘You know I just love dealing with this via FB!’? Just why cannot we discuss a thing in person? The reason is very simple: you hate to deal with this shit, you hate to share this shit with me. And yet, you share it with the guys. I am not jealous you’ve opened up to more people. I am more than happy! I am grateful that there are more people you are willing to share your life with.

I just want a simple text in sense of I’m alive, I’ll tell you more in person, and stuff like that. We’ve talked about this several times and you know how important the small stuff is for me. I won’t push anything. I’m not that kind of person. I am not even mad. I am not disappointed. It just saddens me. That’s all.

You wanted to give me the chance to miss you. So there you are! You got what you wanted and I do not want to sound sulky or bitter. I am giving you the freedom you long for. For I know that if I won’t make the first step to contact you, you won’t do it.

Hope you’ll look for me when you need me. You know how to reach me.





Have you ever wondered how much energy and time do you allocate to the very maintenance of a relationship? Or how many people are you forced to divide it among?

I am that kind of person who, how to put it correctly and understandably, has no need to divide her attention between many. I keep a close group of friends consisting of a few members. I like it that way. Sometimes I put energy into the restoration of older friendships which were in their essence strong, but somehow, over the years, the communication has failed to fulfil the purpose.

I am addicted to the closest members of my friend circle. I literally want to spend most of my free time talking/writing/drinking/eating/thinking of them, with them, around them. I need to be around them either physically, virtually, emotionally, or at least in my mind. However, I’d rather cut them out from my dream world, because there’s some creepy stuff going on in them.

Nevertheless, I put myself into the relationship with my closest friends. I’d text with them every single day. Once I got used to them, there’s no way I’m letting them go, unless the do some stupid, stupidly stupendous mistake which would make me resent them. So far, very few did that to me, even though I did some crazy ish. Stuff which could have put the basis for the insurmountable obstacles preventing any further development of a relationship.

Once you got to know me, and you are able to cope with my modes of self-induced mental disability aka when I go full retard, once they realise I know some stuff and that my shallowness is purely superficial, they might get to the point when they say to themselves “I like her because she’s like no one I’ve ever met.”

I, too, want to become a drug for my friends. I want them to need me as much as I need them. I want them to long for my company every once in a while. I want them to want to tell me the news from their lives. I want them to need to share their lives with me. I want them to want me.

I allocate my resources very carefully. But if I choose you, you may prepare for a rollercoaster of emotions, experiences, and memories, you’d want to share with generations.