I started drawing as soon as my heart was broken. There's one thing that happens when you feel that your life is stolen from you - an emptyness, like a vacuum, a void, a heavy space inside yourself. With me was in my hands.  I'd look at it and, as I still do, remember my grandfather voice, while my grandmother lied behind a hospital door, after a minor brain stroke at the age of 85, and he grabbed my hand, his hand shaking with fear, and said - you have such a beautiful hands, so beautiful nails, just like your grandmother. And they were empty, loose. The nails were still polished, like my grandmothers - they were never like hers, I have scars from cat bites, and small cuts from kitchen accidents, burn marks and, to be honest, I inherited my father thick working fingers that I disguise under red red nail polish, but they were open, no musle force, laying on my lap. Empty hands as a witness of an empty heart, empty brain. Not nervous, not restless. Just a gigantic black hole with 10 fingers with no hope to create anything - dead extremeties hanging loose. That's when I started drawing, when I became unable to spread the butter on the bread, when the musle loss gave me corps fingers, when I knew they were already useless, I invented them a new function. I never draw before, never knew how to, was never good at it, and then, the fingers, my fingers, as born to a new.life after death, decided to go restless and today, everyday, this is what they do.

Reading a new Murakami will always bring you back here. We'll meet again, I dream. You'll check in at the hostel or just by accident we'll meet each other in a Dublin pub on an afternoon and Misread from Kings of Convinience will be the song playing on the radio.
Or not.
It doesn't really matter. Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong already sang about it ages ago - no-one can take that away from me

Yep, somedays are just like this. You wake up in a couch, snickers on, not your house, no toothbrush, no time to go home and shower. The mirror tells you you´re not bad, you do it later, you can go to work. The couple of tears you shed yesterday didn´t break your face. One liter of coffee will keep up through the day. Your heart can accept that life is strange. Healing will always be a continuous process, no one is ever cured, the pains exist and they are a part of us, like a leg or a nose. You can ignore them or look at them with deep atention. They are not going anywhere. They don´t have to go anywhere. They don´t even have anywhere to go to. That´s where they live. Your heart accepts it, knows that these things don´t happen to you. They just happen, nothing against you, no favour, But at the same time, it also knows that it´s sunny outside, the cigarettes, although expensive, are still affordable, there is yogurt in the fridge and funk music exists.

Young, Gifted and Blacks by Brothers Gonna Work It Out on Mixcloud

- Would you still love me if I couldn't pay for dinner
- Maybe

#60 oh on my own private world

The plan it wasn't much of a plan, still it was the best that I could find. I told you, it's not easy to make good plans on your own. Do you feel the same? I tried to make it as simple as possible, white on cardboard, a letter, a stamp, a work address, no signing, whatever will be will be. Minimalist.It was not easy. Blaize Pascal said "i wrote you this letter so long because I didn't have the time to make it shorter" and I had the time still I'd prefered to have written you a very long letter like I hope we can have very long conversations.

I know you don't exist. I know that people don't exist as I see them. You, my love, are made of pieces of Murakami, Ozu's movies and the shadows of the trees in a July afternoon by the river. You don't exist like this except in my mind, I know. It's not easy to live with my brain, you know? It builds parallel worlds all the time, plants small flowers, adds some smells and some particular light to make this terrible world more bareble. It has the soundtrack of my spotify, the poems I read when I was younger, it has landscaps of huge natural parks with waterfalls even when I'm on the crowded bus, there are dragonflies everywhere. You have the softest hands of the world and they want to hold mine, in my world. I read too many crazy books, saw too many cinema masterpieces, read phillosophers, plunged my harms into theories of beauty and reality it's a distance world that I sometimes see on my weak days and, to be honest, doesn't really attract me.

I know you don't exist. If you existed, you'd write me back, maybe text me - definitely. Or just hey there. But you don't exist and sometimes I wish the letter never finds you but on the other hand just knowing that there is some sweet love travelling around Europe makes me smile. I told you this before, didn't I, we are always selfish, we only do things for ourselves, and sending some love inside an envelope is something that I did for myself - nothing to loose, I can do it, I can kiss whoever I want, even if it's from the distance. If this was a book we'd meet and maybe it would be strange - are we having our ackward moment now, I'd ask you. Shall we order some wine? you'd smile and say no need for wine, it was never the wine.

oh the fucking expectations... maybe I should stop living daily life and spend my days inside my head. all the flowers the artic monckeys singing on the background, me sitting in my living room, eyes closed, cat on the lap, travelling only on the back of my mind, you could join me and if it didin't work out with you I'd just ordered another sweet boy. I could be happy with that.

#59 Japan

I pour myself another glass of whiskey. It's not my drink, wine is my nature, red wine, but nature has been strange to me this past year.
It's a 12 year old Chivas but it should be a Santory - I can see Bill Murray raising the glass in front of me now...
Just one hour ago I arrived home. It's Monday night which is cinema night and tonight was Ozu's night again, Japan night again, yellow tea kettler, pale green doors and I will always remember you - japonese movies from the 50's were really good and I said I never seen it and now I have - shall I tell you?
Tomorrow I'm going to wake up late for the first time in a long long time and I'm going to buy the lottery. Because of you. Because of you and mostly because I don't have have enough money to offer myself a vacation in Japan and this 2014 is telling me everyday go there - you, Ozu, my tattoo and the cherry blossoms and Air and, most of all Murakami - Japan!. Finished just 'South of the border, west of the sun' - the rain one - just now, after the movie. And I feel Japan calls me and I look to the right and I'm the cherry blossom girl and today I found your phone number hanging loose on the internet and I was just looking for an email and I wish, seriously, I had never seen it. It takes a very strong girl like me to resist it.
Tomorrow I'll send you a letter. I hope I can make it simple and clean. Just a sober invitation for a cup of coffee and an ice-cream (maybe).

#58 single woman's dinner

Starter - toasted bread with cheese and zuchini and wallnuts jam
Second - turnips greens soup (grandmother recipe)
Red wine
Desert - a glass of whisky and hazelnuts chocolate

(this is just a reminder, because most of the nights it's just apple with cereals and yogurt)