Lilly's Cookies

For the last couple of months, I felt like an entire world was crashing down on me. All the lights went off at once and I’m left feeling utterly lost for direction.

I felt like every single person turned their back on me, let me down, gave up on me, at the moment when I needed them the most.

I’ve been existing- yes, but I didn’t live. I felt scared most of the time. All the time actually. 

Everything was falling apart. I was falling apart.

But as Albert Camus once said - “Créer, c'est vivre deux fois” - To create is to live twice.

Don't forget the songs that made you cry and the ones that saved your life. 

Just another day with my friend aka twisted sister Olivia!

Featuring the cutest pup in all the land- Luna the dog.

Children are the best people!

They never pose, never fake smile, never lie

Transcience of Life Series

Beginning and the end, life, and death, new and old.

Excerpt from the story I’m working on

1.

Waves are splashing underneath

The water sweeps over my feet

Soft summer breeze touches skin

2.

In the winter dawn

I look at the  running clouds

Welcoming the sun

3.

The moon is shining

Dancing with the midnight sky

When sunny days are few,

when it's a bit too cold,

my thoughts return to you,

who used to be my world.

A world that was so kind

and made me feel so warm.

A world I left behind --

so now I face the storm.

Lost in a faceless crowd,

I'm learning to be strong.

I'm learning to be proud.

I just can't right the wrong.

I know I let you down.

When sunny days are few,

the city wears a frown,

I kept on saying no one loved me like you did, no one loved me like you did and no one ever will. Ever. Those were the thoughts that were running through my head as I was looking down at the grave. A grave where my grandmother was buried. It looked so small and lonely I couldn’t even imagine leaving Tata there on her own, in this tiny little coffin, among all those dead people, at this creepy cemetery. This place is no fun. She is not supposed to be here…

         Her death wasn’t sudden but it was definitely unexpected. Well duh, you never expect someone to die. Especially when this is someone you love. You never prepared, it always takes you off guard, no matter how old and sick they were.

I was looking at that tiny metal sign with the date of her death carved in it and began to wonder why she decided to move to another country, why left me when I needed her the most. How many wonderful  years we could have spent together, how much more I could have learned from her, what a different person I might have been right now

              She has been working on the railroad for the most part of her life, which I think explains her constant urge to always travel, ride, fly or move somewhere. The further the destination was, the better. She left our house when I was 6, so I have only the vaguest memory of our life together. The only thing I’m able to recollect as when she would set up a scene from my favorite cartoon, would fix me a lunch box,( as I was always sailing off to a long trip) and then would accompany me on the road, playing anyone from Captain Hook to Prince Charming.

I was growing up without a father, I had no siblings and my mom had to work late nights as a reporter on national television. Which is why Tata substituted me a father, siblings that I never had and the working mum. In fact, from age 1-6 she was my entire universe and I’ve never felt more loved, cherished and protected than I have with her.

No matter what happened I always knew that I had my Tata who would always be there for me, who’d destroy my enemies and chop off their heads for betrayal. In our little world, I was the king and she was my hand. Not to mention the fact that I was the only grandchild who actually had the honor to be raised by her. Every single person in our family was aware that out of all the offsprings from her three kids I was her favorite. Everybody was jealous (obviously). I was proud. Tata chose me.

But then she left. I don’t quite remember how I took it. They probably told me that she will be coming back. And she did eventually but not in a way I expected it to be.

Ever since she left, my only B-day wish was for her to come back. I missed our time together, I missed our trips to the edge of the earth, our set up home plays’, I had no hand now and there was no one to protect me anymore.

As years have gone by the memory of her was starting to fade away but I never forgot about her. I was still waiting for her patiently, just more occupied with my teenage girl problems.

For the course of 10 years, she never forgot to call me on my birthday. Most kids were excited about the new gifts and huge parties but me… I was expecting an important call from Tata.

       Little, yellow butterfly appeared out of nowhere and started flying around me and mom as we were standing next to Tata’s grave. Mom and I looked at each other without saying anything.

We knew for sure it was her.

I was 15 when she came back. I remember how we got a call from a distant relative saying that she will be coming next week, we wondered why wouldn't she call herself and would ask us to meet her at the train station.

I think it’s needless to say how thrilled and nervous I was on the day of her arrival.

We saw her walking from the distance, with the same determined look she always had. I would have never confused that confident walk with anyone else’s, she always marched as if she was leading an army.

Despite her 5’3 height, Tata was a tough cookie. I never ceased to amaze how so much strength, determination, and perseverance could fit into such tiny little creature.

I was ready to jump into her arms at any minute and to feel safe again and to catch up with her on all that what we’ve missed.  However, as soon as she approached us, we’ve noticed some confusion on her face, she seemed lost and disoriented as if she did not recognize any of us as if we were not here family.  She probably just needs more time - I figured

After a little while, we found out that she had an Alzheimer.

At first, I  was frustrated that Tata acts weird but I couldn’t really understand what was actually going on, never in my life, I had to deal with a person who had Alzheimer and at that point, I felt like it was just going to go away one day, like the flu.

And then the nightmare has started. Tata, mama and I had to share a 1 bedroom apartment for 3 years. She was agitated, aggressive, irritable and paranoid all the time. She used to wake up at 5 am, knock on my door and would start demanding to give her clothes back, which she was sure we’d stolen from her. She was yelling and fighting and was absolutely positive that everybody was plotting a murder against her. And I used to fight and yell back. I started hating the person that used to love the most and I’ll never forgive myself for that. Why did I hate her for being sick, why couldn't I understand?  I felt like that wasn’t my Tata, I felt like it was some grumpy, annoying old lady, who for some reason had to stay with us.

I said a lot of terrible things to her, and only today I realize what a selfish little brat I was.

It was at the end of November.

The woodland seems ominously quiet, even the birds ceased to sing. The beginning of winter was quite clear from the bare trees and a screaming silence of the woods. It felt like there was no creature alive within thousands of miles and only nature would be the one to witness all the harshness of upcoming cold.

The trees were so giant that the sunlight hardly ever penetrated the leaves which is why it seemed like the entire woods was melting in the darkness.

Yet here, amongst these giant trees and the wilderness,  so far away from civilization was a little house.

The two-story wooden house, with a red, clay tile roof seemed quite tiny from a distance, almost invisible, sort of lost in the wilderness. However, as you get closer, you can see a warm yellowish light in the window and even hear crackling sounds of the bonfire in the backyard as well as the smell of the burning sage. It was so incredibly comforting looking at this island of hope and warmth, sort of the light at the end of the  tunnel.

If you get even closer you can hear women talking in a high-pitched voice and a bunch of kids laughing.

My heart was pounding as I was approaching the house. I didn’t know if the inhabitants of this house were my saviors or my murderers, was it my last day on earth or the first day of my new life.

So many thoughts were going through my head and I could only think about the smell of the burning sage and how my grandfather used to burn it in our backyard in Maine, to keep bad spirits away from our house.

The Weeknd’s “Starboy” - went mainstream or innovative?

My blog wouldn’t be my blog without a review on my favorite album of all time

Truly an amazing read by an extraordinary young writer, producers, director and actress Lena Dunham.

I think we all love Lena because she is quite hm...relatable

In “Difficult Girl article”, she describes how does it feel growing up in therapy, putting up with all sorts of phobias,  at the age of 8 and just being a difficult kid for parents to deal with.