There used to be three good friends, one was the best friend of the other best friend. They envied each other and tried to catch most of their other friend for themselves but in the same time they didn-t take it too seriously and liked each other and enjoyed each other-s company every time because they had common dreams and things they believed in.
One, the middle one, wanted to live a life of romance and elevated discussions, an easy, happy life full of flowers and love, adventure, books and good wine.
One, the youngest, longed for the bohemian part of life, mixed with some travels and I believe, and amazing man to go with it.
The other one, the oldest, me, had three big wishes from life and in spite of how many dreams changed, these three were always in the back of her head: to be strong, to draw and to travel, see everything about the world, best as I can.
I used to read a lot of travel books and historical books about people who made history, I dreamed about Rome and the Colosseum, the beaches in Thailand, the snow in Moscow, of drinking a genuine cappuccino and understand what Pavarotti was singing, and many other things in between, everything the books about Egypt could offer me, all the stories I-ve seen where Marlene Dietrich was charmed by the arabian nights in Garden of Allah. Everything that involved traveling and places rich in history fascinated me.

I realized, in time, how hard it is to actually just travel around but the more people told me they-re silly dreams, the more I wanted them to happen.
One day, I was talking with one of those two friends I mentioned above and she told me about our other common friend that she was to soon follow her mother-s footsteps and work for the same company and overall what were the plans she had for her near future.
I asked: wait...wow...that-s sudden....didn-t she say she wanted to travel to Africa or around Europe for a while ?
My friend replied: Well, it seems some people forget their 5th grade dreams.
I was a bit shocked because our friend always had a mind of her own and wanted to live her life in a certain way and see places, experience things. I was taken aback and changed the subject but that short discussion came into my head every now and then in the past few days.

As a kid, I wanted to see the Colosseum and Fontana DiTrevi. I was obsessed with the Colosseum, its history and architecture. One of the travel books my father got me for my birthday had a lot written about it and I used to read those pages over and over again until they ultimately ripped off and I had to tape them back.
A few years after and many other happenings later, working in Italy, I skipped work on a friday, with the paycheck for that month and decided instantly to jump in the first train to Rome. That day I saw the Colosseum (and Fontana DiTrevi and Castel Sant Angelo and the Vatican).

I-ll do what I-ve set out to do, no regrets, no distractions. I-ll see my castles, my whales, turtles and sharks and I-ll swim through places and speak languages, walk through woods and touch stones they speak about in history books and make movies about.
I learned from my heroes, the Spartans, to be strong and keep your territorry, regardless if no one helps you or doesn-t like you, believing in what you believe, they won-t dare to attack you because they know you have faith and people are afraid of those who believe in themselves and have faith.

I remember that short conversation I had with my friend about our other friend often. Back then I felt like something was taken away from us, from her, as if when someone-s dreams or ambitions have been closed beyond a door and due to commodity, or fear, that door was to be closed down for a very long time, if ever opened.
Sure, you can take a break every now and then to breathe and regain your strength but don-t surrender. Raise your hands up and surrender and it-s over! No matter what they tell you, the moment you raise the white flag it-s over and you-re done with. Don-t surrender.
People like you and me don-t live that way, life imprisoned between the four walls of conceptions and ideals of other people and what we are expected to do with no mind of our own...well....we just zombie our way through it, it-s no life.
We have stars tattooed on our knees, our kind doesn-t kneel down to crush them in surrender.




B.

I consider myself pretty luck to have a mother like mine. Sure...she tends to get crazy and make me feel miserable at times and at times I don-t like her one bit and I believe she doesn-t like me much either but I don-t know how I would have turned out to live if I wouldn-t of had her.
I don-t love her one bit, but when asked the question, I said I respect her more than I love her. She could of done better, way better, but on the flip side I think I understand her because I have her blood and I am just as untamed as she is and she allowed me freedom to do as I please even if she maybe shouldn-t have done it because now she has more than she can handle on her hands. But truth be told, because of her looseness, intentional or not, caring or uncaring, when bringing me up, it allowed me to define a personality of my own, a way of my own.
Hair dye? Got it. Tattoos at 14? Got them. Odd hairstyles? Fine. Epically short skirts and deep cleveage? Whatever. Actually she was the one who made me do it XD. Boxing? Street fighting? She handed me the money and paid for the classes. Should I take the flaming red frames for my glasses? Absolutely. Supporter of gay rights? She doesn-t mind it. And so on.

She shouldn-t have done a lot, a lot of things, to me, to us all, but as I grew older I learned to forgive her and in the end look at the silver lining of it all, and that is that it made me stronger, just like watching my father who showed me how not to be, how to be on some matters (because he did give good advice at times) and how much importance I have to give to money and material possessions and where exactly I should stop with giving it said importance.
Both these people messed me up pretty bad as I grew up and I don-t know who or what exactly triggered the right thing in me, so to speak, that made me turn 180 and work myself out of the mess, both mentally and physically but rather than looking back in anger, I choose to look back trying to learn from it.
Don-t get me wrong, it-s not one of those moments when birds are chirping, the sun is shining and I hear Hallelujah singing from the heavens, I learn as I go and as I grow older and according to some it might not be the right things but I haven-t been brought up in the right way either. Some call me wity-tongued, some sly, others see me as someone who takes advantage of situations. Others just think I-m trouble. I don-t deny any.

I wanted, as a kid, to be like this or like that, but as I grew up I realized my life does not and will not work that way and if I want to live and not be miserable about it, I-d better learn to adapt and blend, not attach myself to things, be just like quicksilver.
Good and bad, some horrible, others downright disturbing, experiences I had, my own and handed down from these two people called mother and father, I had them and I can-t change them or deny them but I will remember them and use them to my own advantage when time comes.


B.

I got the deadliest glares today, dear lord, they amused me like hell.
Thing is, I have the most obvious hair in this city, one inch nails to state the least, which I decorated myself (Japanese nail art anyone? Yep, that-s me!) and today I was wearing this epic large gray sweater that-s one size too big which I wear like a skirt, with stockings and boots. Yes, you can see the end of my stockings if my sweater goes a bit higher which happens a lot because the sweater barely covers my ass.
Watch me care.
They all think I-m a whore just because I am Romanian anyway (aka an immigrant), so why bother trying to prove them wrong when they-re happier doing the hating? Besides, if I didn-t hand over any gossip material, this city would get bored you see. If they-re happy staring up my ass to see how short said sweater goes, by all means, go for it. I-m wearing stockings anyway and the fact half of the women on the street threw knives at me with their eyes amuses me very much, especially because I had jrock blasting in my headphones and it all looked slightly like a Dir en grey video.
I obviously put on what my mother likes to call the arrogant bitch glare and looked back, smiling.

I remembered Kaoru once saying something about how everyone in this band thinks they-re losers. I think we can use that and change it into something positive.

I tried to learn from that.

I-m happy with myself, if you-re not, that-s your own god damn problem.

On another side, I might finally be able to go ahead with a tattoo I wanted since a few years ago, I am going today to ask a question about the price and hopefully I-ll be able to get it soon, if not, in December definitely.
It will be on my back, saying cut down your discomfort wings.
I wanted to ask you americans out there if it sounds strange in english but I realized that even if it does, it-s a meaning that means meaningful shit for me and I-m not doing it for the world but for myself so even if it might be an assassination of english literacy, do tell me even if I don-t think I-ll change it.

The past week and this one too, I feel it, were made of so much fail...I started smoking again and I did no running. I slept. Drank a lot of coffee, had a lot of walks and barely ate. I don-t know what-s gotten into me. I still must be angry at myself and depressed for missing the Deg concert in Italy, heh...
It has been decided that if nothing happens by January, I-ll go do all the oh so wrong things again, gather up some cash and leave with work in Tokyo, probably sometime next autumn or next winter, not sure.
You know the drill: I got nothing more to lose and everything to gain.

Obviously, this entry had a purpose and a topic but I lost it on the way since I am multitasking then spacing out to stare out the window (I-m at the library since I got no internet again) and I-m all out of coffee. I actually drank it like water while doing said spacing out.

So I-ll be out now. I promised to celebrate my 9th anniversary of being a Dir en grey fan with a small chocolate cake a la french patisserie.




B.



turn me into a memory and go to the new ocean
from my heart I wish you happiness
there is happiness beyond the tears [...] - Dir en grey - Undecided

First thing-s first: You are all such darlings!!! Thank you for the good luck wishes for NaNoWriMo!!! Your support means the world for a bookworm/writing nut like me!


Question: since NaNoWriMo doesn-t put the novels on site, they just do the word count, I was wondering: should I make a journal where I write and where you guys can read the story also? Would anyone have enough patience or be interested in reading?



Now, on with this...November sure will keep me busy!
So far it goes like this:

1. Editing the translations from Kai. He-s a guy from Germany I work with. He translates Japanese hip hop/rap pieces and I edit them since I have epic English skillz. Though even with those, it-s still very confusing at times, since I don-t speak Japanese myself.
Usually he sends me 3-4 lyrics per week and I finish and send them over Sundays, though I try to do it more often than once a week because he works with other editors and thing is I don-t like anyone else to be better than I am at something I like doing.
Harsh, stubborn and superficial probably, I know, but it-s the honest truth.

2. Possibly editing a 2 hour interview he will translate. He said he can divide the interview between all of us if we want to but I wrote him an email back saying I can handle it by myself. Because I wanna be the best editor he-ll ever have.

3. Finishing 50,000 words worth of novel for NaNoWriMo

4. Start working on my laptop. I have a project since the top of the laptop is scratched and all, and besides I want to give it some personality. Hence, I will be decorating it with a pattern made of small beads. Give me beads and glue, I-ll handle the rest XD

5. Do my work as a reliable RP partner, of course.

6. Possible departures for Florence to do the devil-s work what I gotta do as paid by my mother-s boyfriend.

7. No, I think that-s it for the moment, I think.

I love being busy, even if it-s small things.


B.

Attitude.
Undeserving.
Heartless.
Bitch.
Insane.
Stray dog.
Loser.
Antisocial.
Whore.
Arrogant.
Materialistic.





I told myself back then: people will say stuff, am I ready? I was.

People will say stuff. Fuck them Let them. I-m enjoying my life so much more right now.








B.

Author:B.
Name: B.
Nationality: I don't stay for long enough anywhere to belong somewhere.
Interests: coffee, cigarettes, writing, reading, graphic art, living/being alive, traveling, how things work/function, history, music.
I Love: coffee, cigarettes, tea, big cities, the sea, the ocean, seashells, cherry tomatoes, rain, rain clouds, rice, sand, kashmere, a big city's noise at night, city lights by night, learning, listening, being alone, dead leaves, silence, 5 a.m's, music.
I Hate: lies and liars, prejudice.
I believe in: not much.
This journal:is the place I write just like I dance - like no one is watching. This is why everything I write is like a monologue to me. I don't care who is reading, my thoughts flow like this and this is how they will be written down.
These are my thoughts, my opinions, not my friends', not my country's, not your mother's and not your dog's.

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