To my lover

This entry is aimed at my lovers and loves past. It's a thank you note.

To all the girls that I wanted to love in the past two years: Thank you for saying no and being so inappropriately wrong for me.

I really did not see it. I really wanted to marry you. I would have loved you truly and I would have been lost for the world. And I would not meet the one that is somewhere there still waiting for me. The one that is not afraid of me, the one that is full of fire.

So yet again:
To the girls that didn't want to go out with me, didn't want to sleep with me, didn't kiss me back. Thank you. For you have saved me. Because for a little bit of love I would have lost myself. I would have loved you, truly and forever until the end. I was blind and I would have sold myself for a pretense, for imagination. I would have gone for safe. I would have gone out with any one of you and I would have put a ring on your finger. And you were not right for me and I pretended that I didn't see it. Thank you for not letting me settle for less.

My destiny is beyond you. My destiny is to achieve, to build, to travel, to speak up, to create, to challenge.. And I would have so easily let you, a girl, stand between me and my dreams, my path and the girl that is still waiting somewhere there for me.

More than a gay!

One day I'm going to find you. I don't know where and even less I know how. I really hope that you were born by now! And even if it will take thousands of women to kiss, hundreds of dates to go on, tens of females to sleep with.. I can endure it. I will. In the name of love. In your name.
And before I put a ring on your finger and before you put a ring on my finger.. I ask you to do two things. Two things that are going to tell you the last words of who I am and of what did make me who I am.
First of all come with me to a country that was mine and which I left all those years ago. Go with me to see Roads to Freedom. An exhibition that makes me emotional, that makes me shed a tear or two, that gives me strength to believe in what I believe and hope that I shall be strong in a face of evil. See it - see a history that made a person you've chosen to love. A history I remember and that which happened before my times.
Then go with me to a concert of Kult. And watch the crowd. And gaze at my face when it gets all emotional. And let me be when I sing "this is Poland" standing there, in a land that hosts me but is not mine. And go to the very front, where the crowd is wild. It will take some stamina and it will cover you in sweat yours and others. It's totally worth it - be one of the Poles for a song, for a dance.
And that is all I ask. For you to fully know what you are choosing.

I would never ever...

The year was 2008. My best friend and I went out to town to drink a lot and to look out for our great, one and true loves. We were kids back then. How little did we know of life and love and other diseases!
And in a childish but strong voice I said,
"One night stand? I would never ever..! Sex is the act of love. I would not find any pleasure in anything random."
A year later my first one night stand happened. I didn't know her name, we didn't say a word to each other, she was a girl in a hat. It was classic.

Last week I recalled my youthful statements and I laughed heartily inside (and outside to the amusement of my friends). And I thought of a Hungarian Princess that has recently left bite marks on my thighs for ten days and of the softest Jewish girl in a cubicle for £2. And I see the world differently than all those years ago and imaginary ideas shall not drink my juices again and I can tell true beauty from a beautiful lie! But still... on one point I was right - sex is best with love.
And whenever I am with a girl and I fuck her brains out I truly love the queen in my arms. She is mine and my love is forever, everlasting, for eternity, as long as we are together, until the next morning.

Mary-Anne is a bitch

This is a genuine story.
I met a girl and I liked her. I tried to ask her out and her answer was a constant 'maybe but no but maybe'. I thought
"Come on, it's either fuck yeah or fuck off, why is it so difficult?"
After a week she said
"It's awkward, maybe I'll explain one day. It's a no."
Weird but I let her be.
End of story. Not.

Some time later I found out unexpectedly and very randomly that she used to go out with my X. I confirmed the information at source.
"How bizarre," I thought, "it shouldn't be hard to say so if that was the case".
Then came a realisation - I was cock-blocked by my X! Peculiar for we are all lesbians but true. Maybe a bit funny, maybe a bit bitter. Universe, what do you do to me?!
Then another realisation came - I was probably the last idiot in the village to find out what that was all about. And I wondered how come no-one told me anything. It would make sense to talk to me!
So I asked my friend if she knew. And from the first reply I saw that something very bad would happen. And it did. I couldn't stop it. After all, I'm just a Pole and I do everything with my full heart. When I love - I love, when I fight - I fight. I asked for an information and all hell broke loose. Bang! I don't know why and I don't know how and looking back at what led to this I can only repeat one statement - not guilty of anything.
I am, however, sad and angry and broken. So, dear reader, please take a minute and think well of me. Maybe even have a little drink to my health. And listen with me to Regina, cause Regina makes everything better :)

LISTEN TO REGINA HERE

Those Things We Do For Love

Last Sunday saw me coming back from L Fest - a place full of lesbians, adventures, laughter and trouble (that was more of a personal thing than a general theme). I was happy but tired and maybe I couldn't control the train of my thoughts. Anyhow, three things popped into my head at the same time:

* I'm not really seeing many women recently since I got myself into a deep shit trouble last winter (see, here it is again!)... Maybe I should start dating more, after all I love meeting people and it always makes for a good story.

* Oh dear, I'm so glad that I live in times current. If I lived in old ages my sister would be dead! (She has a medical condition that needed XX century to be semi-tamed). Oh dear, maybe my whole family would be dead.

* Ha ha, I shouldn't probably say out loud how I came to a conclusion that if I was black (and had one of those full of meaning names like some Africans do) my name would be Charity.

And BANG. This was born in the depths of my beautiful mind - I shall go on a date with any girl that is going to support my chosen charity which supports people like my sister and tries to find a cure for their condition.
It's a three-way win-win-win situation. It's perfect!

Truth be told I have no idea how successful this endeavour might be and I can't predict whether anyone will be even remotely interested in participating in an adventure like that. But the thought was there and therefore I must give it a go. Nothing to loose, everything to win. Let's be amazing!

You can read my sister's story HERE (this is my lovely sister and I on a photo above)
And you can see my dating profile HERE (my photos are not XXX rated, you have to believe me)

Living The Dream - Intro

For a while now I was braving myself to start writing about one thing that appears to be a reoccurring motive in my life, thing that I believe to be the ultimate goal of human existence, thing that humanity searches for with a varying rate of success, a thing that many want and a few have. Please let me introduce you to Happiness.

Working definition: happiness is a positive state of inner peace and fulfillment.
I'm going to tell you that happiness is, like Lego, built of various components and hence it can be achieved and modeled by working on it's smaller parts. With a little bit of training, time and dedication anyone can find their way to happiness. It is not a chance and not luck and not outer causes that make happiness in us. It is due to our doing in the world and our interactions with it.

Most of the issues that I am going to mention have a rational and scientific background (do your own research if you wish). Some of them are universals, some are more culture dependent (I write all of this from a white, European perspective). Some might be completely wrong. All I have is my 33 year old wisdom, a sense of observation, a handbag of life experience and some psychology background. But I know that there is a pattern, that there is an easier way than blind walk, that many people strive for fulfillment and that some people are unhappy. I can only hope that someone will find this useful or even vaguely interesting. See what works for you, give it a go. And if nothing more, this is my challenge that I take upon myself to make my life more worthwhile, richer and happier than it was ever before.

As my ex-friend said once: Everyone has right to be happy.

Adventures at the North of the Pole(and)

As the plane lowered its flight braking through the layer of clouds we were enveloped by a sudden darkness.
'It's going to be like this throughout our stay. It's a polar night over here.' I whispered to one of our guests. His gaze was very uncertain.

We kissed a ground that we had landed on, as is a tradition in my homeland, and we started our journey through evergreen, stretched for miles woodlands. The next morning, when we arrived to a shore, we were welcomed by dunes, cliffs, singing sands and a blue, twenty degrees water. It was beautiful. But it was a first thunderstorm of the season that made the biggest impression on us all. It caught us in the evening, when we were back in the woods. More precisely, when we were reaching the highest peak of the area - the Bald Mountain (a well renowned witches meeting place). Thunders, lightning and a sudden downpour took us by surprise. There was no point in running and no point in hiding. The Universe showcased its power! Rapid, impromptu streams showed us a way down and led us to safety.
As I recall this events we have just returned from Hel. My feet are still on fire but it was totally worth the experience. That is however another story.

When I look at this polar land with eyes of a tourist it is a one amazing place.

On life of bears

[In a voice of David Attenborough]

When after a long winter sun warms up the surface of the Earth, all forms of life welcome the arrival of spring. For bears it's time to re-establish boundaries of their domains and to find new mates. But this natural task may sometimes become a more complex matter.

Let's look at this bear. Happily rumbling in the vicinity of its cave it suddenly realises that not one, not two, not even three, but four of its previous mating partners are inhabiting the very same valley.
Encountering an old mating partner is potentially very dangerous for any bear. To mention just a few risks it can cause a spread of infectious diseases which make an animal incapable of bonding with a new and potential partner, it can cause a temporary mental retardedness resulting in longing for and following old mates, it can also lead to a bloodshed and dramatically ruthless fights over the territory.

Having been following this particular bear for a while we know that so far it won all the confrontations due to its strength, stamina and vigour. We also know how peculiarly strong bonds it established with the animals that formed alliance with it. Whether a little tree frog, a fox or a wild boar these animals instinctively know that the bear is not only the ruler but also the protector.

In the afternoon sun the bear is spending its time playfully. Suddenly it stands on its hint legs and roars loudly. Its fur is shimmering in the light.

What you gonna do when they come for you?

And so for a month I have been a model citizen. High work ethic, some moral standards in a private life, doing one's bit for community... And thus I had nothing to relay that was cheap and dirty. Did it worry me? Hmm.. a little bit. I love cheap and dirty. Then on the other hand girls are stupid and they can't make gun noises.
I rather indulge myself in hanging out with my longboard, playing some piano and making Excel spreadsheets for pleasure. Once a week I may venture into town; if I'm particularly lonely one of my engaged friends does for my date.
My engaged friends are really cool - they don't trust me but they trust each other. Depending on which one is free I'm allowed to take her for drinks, dancing or to do something cultured. It's all about culture to be civilised. It's forbidden to kiss but we may hold hands, hold them where was never specified. Sometimes one of the girls stays at mine overnight. It is then my duty not only to feed her in the morning but also to make sure that she has a good night. At times we all hang out together but that is not so often for people get jealous.

I spent a considerate amount of time today thinking of a new topic for this blog. Since love and lust are clearly out of the picture the only remaining 'L' is life. And what can be made out of life? I earnestly think that I should make some amendments in my life attitude - be more friendly, see more good around me, commit all those random acts of kindness, find faith in humanity. Make life more worthwhile.
And as a first step on a journey to making my life richer and more awesome I have decided to start with accepting unexpected invites and being among people more. First opportunity arose immediately (as if the Universe was spying on me) and I got invited to visit a tall ship! Really, how cool is that?! Apparently I may even be invited to commit a journey on it. And that would be something for it is on my list and I longed for stepping aboard for
a while..

Best things in the world Argh! boats, girls and shanties

I sailed in a force 9 and I sailed in no wind. That's called skills. Rightly so as, as they say, smooth seas do not make skilful sailors. In force 9, as long as you stay in a marina, make sure that you have at least a bottle of wine per person and crack them open. In no wind and rain pissing down just pretend that you're sailing, do a little dance, sing a little song, crack a joke and life will be what life should be about - a hell lot of fun.

These guys on the picture made my last weekend an amazing experience. We do not know each other from cradle but we were in the same boat an no matter how cold and wet I was I knew that they can make me laugh. And they did make me feel good.
That's what the sea does to me - I stop worrying about all the unnecessary stuff that preoccupies me on land and I know who is a good companion and who will back me up when I need it.
I get no crap for sleeping with wrong people, nor for sleeping with right people, nor for anything I do and I do love these breaks. On land things evolve into unnecessary dramas for no matter how treacherous is the sea, a woman will always be more so.

But one can't stay at sea forever and so I have returned to my port of call. And so the rapid thoughts of girls alike came rushing through my head and I wondered where to go next. Shall I stay low or am I out of the dog house now? But this is my life and my happiness I'm talking about. If I'm in a dog house may I at least be an Alfa dog?
A real sailor needs three things - a good tattoo, excellent sailing skills and a girl awaiting in a port. I have four pretty decent tattoos and I'm learning how to sail so there seems to be only one thing left to do. Visit ports to have a chance to meet the girl.
I might have been meeting wrong girls aplenty. Married girls, girls straight to their bones, girls with ex-girlfriends, girls with girlfriends.. I had them all. But it's okay, that was my force 9 or maybe that was my no wind. It's time now to trim that sail for there are fish in the sea better than have ever been caught. And one of them has my name on it.

So I could stay low and take no risk and no gamble. That would be life without stress. But life without stress is not a full life. A ship in the harbour is safe but that's not what ships are built for. A girl at home is safe but that's not what girls are made for.

This closet is really comfortable - can I stay here forever?

This is the truest story I've ever told you. And potentially one of the funniest ones. It happened to.. my friend. My friend D. D is a life-long lesbian and it only took her some twenty (sic!) years to figure that out.

D was always as gay as fairy dust. Just look at her. She's so camp she's pissing herself!

Yearbook looks something like that:

1. 
   
2. 
   
3. 
   
4. 
   
5. 
   
6. kisses the first girl (in a girls toilet in a kindergarten)
7. loves LEGO and Matchboxes
8. kisses a boy behind the bushes but really wants to slide down that hill with a girl from English class
9. first time gets naked with a girl (they were re-acting the movie; she says)
10. finds out where the babies come from
11. has a crash on a female character from Willow
12. wants to be a Red Indian, or a cowboy, or a commando
13. writes a story about a teenage character who has many adventures and some personal drama with a woman (it was called Emma and the only copy got lost)
14. starts playing with dolls, is always Ken and flirts with Barbie (and Jenny, and Cindy, and Jennifer, and..)
15. very loudly questions why marriage is defined as a relationship between a man and a woman
16. has a crash on and stalks female teachers aplenty
17. first time kisses a girl for real (and likes it a lot!)
18. adores Plato's theory of romantic love (check it out, it's so gay!)
19. is banned from Church for never wearing a skirt (euphemism?)
20. .. All those years nothing Clicked! Nothing at all. You would think that there were clues surrounding her on every step of her life. Clues knocking and banging on her head. But no, the information couldn't reach the brain. She now says that she was lacking the schema. She knew that gays exist and supported them a lot, just somehow the existence of lesbians escaped her totally.
    So the year had come when the Universe said 'Enough! Come out of that closet!'
    She goes on holidays with her (girl)friends and kisses them and makes out with them. (no Click)
    Upon return she visits one of the girls for a week and kisses her and makes out with her. (no Click)
    The girl's parents are afraid and make gay jokes to ease their fear. (no Click)
    Until one evening.. Friend is away. D is watching a gay movie. Friend's father enters the room, looks at D, looks at a screen, looks at D, says 'Of course!' and leaves.
    And CLICK! Finally!! Thanks heavens for that!
    D is stunned. D leaves the room. D stands in front of a mirror and looks at herself. And then, very slowly, she says 'I am gay!' (now, that's what I call an illumination!)

What happened in Wales stayed in Wales

Sometimes I wonder what had really happened in Wales. My memories play tricks on me, especially at nights, when I'm wide awake, unable to sleep.. But as a week has passed and I'm still alive I feel a little bit more optimistic about my survival. Maybe with time I'll get rid off that terrible fear that lives with me, maybe even I'll leave the house again one day.

These are true stories from one lesbian weekend away

The greatest mystery

On the first night Helen stayed in the cottage on her own for half an hour. She never told anyone what had happened while we were gone. In fact, she never said a word since.

What we found on our pillows on Saturday morning

A note saying 'You will die soon'.

Birthday present no-one admits to have given

Dead rooster and a voodoo doll.

The biggest dare

Clare had to run to the lake and back at night. We believe that she successfully fulfilled the task and only just for a joke never came back to the house.

The best recalled story

Vera had to leave Sicily and find a new home overseas to avoid her father's desperate plan that he laid after finding out that she was a lesbian. He was to cut her hair, dress her up in male clothes and announce on Sunday mass that a mistake was made when Vera was born and although pronounced a girl she was in reality a boy.

The moment everyone screamed

We were all dining on the second evening. Suddenly there was a loud noise and three shadowy faces appeared behind the window.

What freaked everyone out

On Sunday morning we discovered bodies of dead mice arranged in an arrow pointing towards the cottage.

On the way back home, during a break on M5 services, a pact was made. Confused by recent events but, at least physically, unharmed we decided to spread the word of a fantastic birthday bash that we had just attended. We learnt to speak of happy times, of games, jokes, food and harmony..

However, the real truth is darker than fiction. Not everything's gold that glitters..

Destiny

No matter what we say out loud about this, we all have and follow our destiny. Look deep into yourself and you shall see that your dreams and passions are pushing you along a way to... somewhere.

And destiny awaits on us on every corner. In the past half a year I've met four girls that I was destined to be with. 'Where are they now?', I hear you ask. Exactly!

So I ask the Universe: 'Why won't you let me find a girl, settle down. That's what I want more than anything else.'

And the Universe replies: 'For you're destined for more and you need to walk your path.'

I figured it out. In the nearest future I must sail the world. Maybe a girl would get in a way. Happy and with a girl I would probably quite comfortable sit at home watching TV all evenings long, I wouldn't care about discovering mechanisms of human brains' working, I wouldn't run a marathon to prove that I can achieve anything that I set my mind to, I wouldn't learn many things about people and the world.

In other words, if our destiny would always be fulfilled immediately and with hardly any effort we would be maybe happy but terribly stupid and foolish. For it's only when one picks oneself up from the ground and when one rubs off stubborn tears of one's cheek and when one fights and looses and starts all over again - only then one acquires that magical power of wisdom. And being wiser may be the whole point.

However while keeping those keen eyes open in search for paths to destiny don't get fooled by signs! Ah, how I love signs and how they usually do me wrong.. Among recent girls there was one that brought with her more signs than all other ones together. She had my mum's name and hight and she turned out to be just as wrong as my dad - I could not find anyone more suitable than that. Even every keyboard was shouting that we were perfect together! Signs were all around me so I figured out that she must be my destiny and I wanted her. And so I fell for her and she very quickly broke my heart and our paths parted. That was pretty much it. I was badly upset but with time I grew bigger and stronger, faster and leaner, I have new dreams and new dramas, new friends and new enemies and foolish as I am, I am also a little bit wiser than I was in November. And I like the feel of it.

What could possibly go wrong?

I spent last week at sea. Sailing is not all that bright in winter. At times I asked myself: why the hell am I doing that? Because there's something challenging and enchanting about simple presence of water and air, something that reminds us of infinity. And infinity is daring.

I boarded a yacht with an expression 'a girl in every port' on my face (and on my hoodie). Very soon those words were gone, they didn't matter. I didn't have a single sex talk in a week! Suddenly chasing girls seemed rather insignificant or rather really not worth that much of a thought in every single second. What mattered was a basic comfort - to be warm (or relatively warm), to have a full belly and a sound sleep. Once that was achieved my brain was popping up open and suddenly I could see that there is so much more to life. I kind of always know it but then I really knew it. Life is about dreams and dares and experiences. Girls can't give all of that in a full spectrum.

After return to my land rat life the first thing I heard from my friends was that they had a rather poor faith in me continuing to be on my best behaviour and were already betting when I was going to slut myself up or create yet another kabum!. Hey - even I know how to keep my head down. Sometimes one has to..

Now the exciting stuff. I'm going away for my friend's birthday this weekend. There are attractions aplenty planned, there's a road trip involved and many games and activities coming up. It's going to be legendary. However friends that are staying behind are foreseeing some kind of a drama. Why? That clearly must be jealousy speaking. Just think about it:

Nine lesbians go for a weekend to a secluded cottage in a remote valley.. What could possibly go wrong? :)

Meaningless - vs - meaningful

My anti-valentine celebration of the previous night was cheerful and grand as expected it did however end with my good self loosing a day from my life. I felt awful to the power of awful. Maybe rightly so!

Somewhere there during the night's extravaganza I got suddenly hit by a deep thought on a meaning of my actions and existence. That is not an easy discourse when one's sober so just imagine my poor drunk brain struggling. So I ran to my friends - all the way on the other side of a table- and I cried 'Please help. Don't let me do anything stupid.'
'Who do you want to sleep with now?
'***.'
'Do you really want to?'
'No, but I will because I can.'
'Is it worth it?'
'No. It's a meaningless thing. But lacking meaningful someone what else is there left to do?'
And so it went on and on for a while. I believe that I tried to kiss every single one of my girl-friends present in a pub trying to prove the point of the above conversation (how?, don't ask me, that's beyond my comprehension). Eventually I kissed no-one, I went home on my own and twisted with pain as the day was passing by I had my little catharsis and I decided to act like a more meaningful person.

Don't get me wrong, I am a very meaningful person. I have a heart of gold and a wise mind. I perceive life realistically though at the same time I demand virtues and honourable behaviour of myself and yourselves. Every now and again, however, I do stupid things, meaningless things. I have my explanation and justification - I can do it, it keeps me in a loop, sometimes I need to do a meaningless nothing to get over a broken meaningful something etc. But what if by acting carelessly I miss on something special? As my friend said, what if a girl that could mean more is going to walk by seeing me doing sweet nothing with people I don't care about? Now, that's something to consider.

And therefore here I make a solemn promise of quitting booze and girls for a fortnight.
For I shall strive for more of a meaningful and less of a meaningless in this beautiful year of 2013.

The birth of the Idol (GUEST ENTRY)

There was a snowfall and my sister turned into a snowman (which, in Polish would be translated as an IDOL). So she became an idol of the old world and her skin is all covered with silver and gold and now I am only worried that she will weigh too much and they won't allow me to take her on board without paying extra fees... Could I maybe post her home and count that Royal Mail is not a bunch of little thieving dwarfs?... But that's tomorrow. I will worry tomorrow.
Tonight on the other hand I was woken up by a crowd of little creatures with twisted arms, with humps on their backs, with deformed faces and third and fourth eyes placed randomly on their bodies. They all wanted to greet a new idol that appeared on Earth. I had to get up and I attempted on organising them into a queue so each of them could rub their scary and pale cheeks on her hand without awakening the old power that had inhabited her body so suddenly. When the sun had started to slowly emerge from behind the forest line I started to quietly and with a whisper "shuu!" and "go away" them as even I was ever so slightly afraid of the little one (now, mind you, not so little and all covered in precious metals) to wake up: no-one knew if the idol she became is an old but benevolent power or maybe she has rather transformed into a cruel old creature that can (and will) - even just for her own entertainment - change whoever she encounters into a pulsating yet conscious mass...
So, I have managed to get rid off all the freaks of nature and sat very quietly at her side and waited for her silver eyelids with golden eye-lashes to part and allow rays of sun to enter her eyes (which used to be blue not so long ago and now I didn't even know what colour I should expect  - has her inside also become a precious metal or is she, somewhere deep inside, still this fragile human being that I used to know all her life?...). She moved for the first time ten minutes after nine. She rolled onto her side and opened her mouth from which in one (and quite elegant - it's hard not to be graceful and elegant when you are made out of silver and gold with shiny little onyxes that are attached to your scalp so they imitate the once present hair) motion she has disposed all of the organic, and it seems no longer needed, guts. She opened her eyes (blue it was no more) and froze again.
Once it was obvious that there is no imminent danger from her side, the deformed creatures started to fill the room once again. And as before, I took upon myself a role of the highest priest and made sure that only one at a time (and only for a few seconds  - as long as it takes me to count one - two - three) approaches her hand and whispers greetings and asks for a blessing. So: one - two - three; one - two - three; one - two - three...

The real friends

Friends are people who keep on listening to your meaningless and tedious little dramas over and OVER again. Well yes, they are. They are people who are there to pick you up and scrap you from the pavement when you fell or got broken again.

I love my friends and, dear friends, this is my little tribute to you.

I was a sad little kid with no real friends. With mates aplenty but with no real bonds for most of my younger life. Then it all changed. I started to talk and to communicate with people. I started to trust and to believe. By now I am surrounded by an incredible bunch of guys who are there for me. The slightest crisis strikes and I get a panel of specialists advising me on my mind's and heart's problems. I can't even account for all the text-conferences which I summoned in the recent times. Litres of alcohol drunk late at night and words pouring uncontrollably from mouth to mouth. With questions shooting right and left and desperate inquiries for some guidance. That guidance I received. Not without bollocking, smacking me across face, holding my hand and all other relevant stuff.

The stories that lead us to this love are not straight (how could they be?) and often comprised of grand explosions and wars. I let down probably every single one of my dearests and with some I went through a real mayhem. But souls that speak to each other and see beyond the boundaries find solutions at the end.

I have friends to whom I didn't speak for days, weeks, years. I have friends that I feared and those that I laughed at. Paths of life are often unpredictable and unprecedented. I fucked up many times and they fucked up sometimes too. But here we are - brothers in arms, fighting our way through life and chaos.

I make one promise - always to remember, always to strive for a better future, for a better now. Without you guys, I'd be just a big-headed trouble. With you, I'm special.

Leave the third one alone

It's Friday evening, I'm on a red wine swing, I think about my lovers past and future and I've just realised that I probably should classify this blog as containing 'adult content'! I always thought that if I come to this I would write dirty sex stories, erotics like "Emmanuel" or rather descriptive accounts of dark nights when I got laid. Ha, life has chosen a different path for me. Nonetheless, I use the word 'sex' freely and I'm just about to breach a controversial topic so let it be.

This is my small manifesto about the cheater, the cheated and the third one.

Many of us have played all the roles, some of us only two or one and probably not that many none (let's be realistic - this is life). It doesn't matter why things happen and where they lead. Let's look at the morals, the ethics.
For some bizzare reasons our society is ultimately targeting the third one. I always asked and I still ask 'why?' For that is the only person in the equation that is formally unattached and therefore ultimately free to do whatever they please. Why should the third one be blamed for mistakes of the cheater? How come the cheated one instead of facing the reality prefers to blame the innocent one?
I say all of this not because I'm single and therefore most likely to happen to be the third one. I say it because my inquiring mind likes to think things over, to put them on a universal scale of good and bad and then build a picture of perfection in this imperfect world.
Perfect for being just and honest. Imperfect for a conflict shall always be present and a dynamic nature of humans will bring a lot of drama and emotional spectacles.

Going back to the topic.
The cheated one is the one we should feel sorry for. And we do. His/her viewpoint is hazed by the emotions and maybe I can just about understand why it leads to a lot of cursing and swearing on the third one. It's easier like this. Who needs their heart broken more? Who wants to admit that a person they love is a piece of shit and has no regards for them? Let's find a scapegoat.
The cheater messed up a big time. Clearly if they had no guts to deal with a situation in a civilised manner and they opted for a little bit of sex behind their partner's back no-one should expect them to have enough morals and standards to admit their own failings. They too will blame the one they cheated on with.
The third one - the most innocent participants of the affair. Let's not forget that the third one may or may not know what role he/she is playing. And has no obligation to do so! I usually recommend not getting involved with a paired person for falling for an engaged person is a big mistake but do what you wish. If one does become the third one it's okay. It's not that person's responsibility to be responsible for a whole world around them. In fact he/she is really needed in that couple's life at that particular moment. Think about it. There's more in it than just pretty words.
The world however joins in the beating and smacking of the innocent one. The blaming culture is widespread and powerful. And I fear it.

Music, alcohol and women

Okay, I didn't blog for a whole two days. Outrageous, innit?!
I did many other interesting things in that time so it's not a time wasted. Apart from working many long ours I:
- visited a new place
- went to a concert
- came up with a movie script idea.

The new place is Malmesbury. And this is its story as I see it.
Few years ago I made a New Year (or birthday, I'm not sure; these are usually times when I resolute) to visit at least two new places in the UK a year. When I say a place I do not mean a pub or a gay club (though doing that is very enjoyable and always a bonus) but a new city or town or site. That grew from the fact that I've been living in this country for many long years now and I do not really know it very well. I need to improve it.
So I received an invitation to Malmesbury. I didn't know what to expect but I didn't expect much. My experience was beautiful. For a start it's a lovely old establishment with a lot of stone in its architecture. I approve of stone, it looks classy. Then there's a cathedral which looks like a Tintern Abbey on postcards, in real life is much smaller, it's open late at night though and looks pretty. Everyone knows everyone and you can just ask a passer-by, "Excuse me sir, would you kindly show me a way to Tom's house?" And what was a cherry on a top they serve beer that gets people drunk after having only one pint (I'm a Pole, I know what I'm saying).

The concert was in hands of a duty. Nothing happened that required my help (as in first aid help) so I got to enjoy a really good classic rock show. The guys on guitars were absolutely amazing. I think it was the first time in my life when I really got to understand a phrase "drugs, sex and rock'n'roll" with a stress on a rock'n'roll part.
I just had a though that my dear saying "wine, women and singing" in reality shows the very same principles.

The movie is going to be about a doll. And a child with a mother. The doll will be spooky. A bit like Chucky but in a more psychological rather than gore way. It's going to be a short and a rather short one. I need to find a camera man and a little girl to help me out with a project. I think that it has a potential.

Straight girls make bad dates

I'm supposed to be going on at least one date a month. It's good to do so. It helps to stay in a loop and forces one to practice flirtation and seducing techniques or at least makes one talk to strangers. Good skills to have if one wants to stay romantically involved. Sometimes it's not all about sex!

But the things are not looking that bright on a date front for January. I'm not saying that it won't happen but then there are only few days left and I made myself a pretty plan of daily activities that leave no spare time for strangers. Maybe I was not overly proactive and I haven't really put my heart in it this month but that was partially due to my New Year resolution - stop obsessing about girls and just relax!
It's not like I didn't try at all. I ran after a straight girl for a little while. She caught my attention and I spent many hours kissing her face when we first met (or so I was told) therefore I wanted to honour her by January girl nomination. Finally, after all that chasing I got a date. She bailed at the time ten minutes to!
I got angry only for a very short while for I remembered about my resolution. I went to have some random sex instead. It was fine, I suppose.

Last night when I was checking up upon my city I bumped into the straight girl. She made an excuse, apologised and swiftly parted. And I thought that it was such a waste of a potential winter romance. My friend said that straight girls are narrow. Maybe. I still think that everyone should try to be gay in their lifetime, even if just for a little while.

Today this city will be mine

'One day this city will be mine' sings Swietlicki ('kiedys to miasto bedzie moje'). He was an unsuccessful Polish poet. He found his way forward, he started to sing his poetry. That worked.

Violetta Villas was a very successful Polish singer. She had an amazing vocal scale. She used to perform in Las Vegas with all the splendour, with all the lights and eyes focused on her. She was not a beautiful girl but she was glam. The world was at her feet. Until one day her Mum got unwell. Violetta returned to the motherland. It was a bad political and social time. A guy that used to write songs for her, songs that were exploring her wonderful capabilities and pushing them to the extreme, died. From being an international star Violetta changed into a misunderstood girl lost in reality. Her Mum died too and so she started withdrawing more and more from life. In my teenage years I used to hear of her living alone in a house full of cats. The animals were breeding and smelling badly. She lost almost all of the control. She was a frequent visitor in mental health institutions. It's a heartbreaking story.

Polish mental health institutions used to be very much different from Bristish ones. I'm not sure how they are now. When, as a keen student, I frequented them they were full of so-called classic schizophrenics, classic bi-polars, not many borderlines nor PDs. Many people were institutionalised. There was a lot of religious references, a lot of weird and fascinating histories. There was no hassle over privileges and benefits but everyone had a right to be given a voice.

Today.. this city will be mine.

A Perfect Stranger

This is a title of a story that I wanted to write. I never wrote it for I don't know how to write it. For all I see in my mind's eye there would be an autumnal aura and it would have a feeling of a grand French and Russian literature combined together. It should be a perfect story if it ever comes to life.

The idea is simple. Strangers are people that we know very little about and especially we know nothing about their past, families, jobs, diseases, troubles, wants, needs and downfalls.. you name it. They are people we can connect with but we are not entangled with, nor interrelated with. Therefore they are a perfect ground for releasing our needs, wants and fantasies. Strangers can be anyone for us and they can play any role we want them to play.

In my story that, of course, would be a love story, meeting a perfect stranger leads to a perfect romance. It would be a time limited and expiry date bounded romance that would however enable living up longed for dreams (it doesn't necessary mean dirty) and emotional flows.

Although I didn't write it last summer I was lucky enough to have my own perfect stranger experience. My affair lasted nineteen hours and went smoothly through all the stages of a regular romance starting from a meeting for a first time and quickly escalating to a great passion and desire and then finally last (and only) goodbye. Due to its intense and speedy nature I started flirting with my stranger woman by a first drink, kissed her by a second, we started using couple styled pronounces like 'we' and 'our' by a third drink and so on and so forth.  I drunk many drinks that night. Two key elements were that we didn't even know our real names (I was Scarlett, that's a bit dirty but luxurious) and we knew that the end would inevitably come. The parting was probably one of the most beautiful ones I have ever had in my life. No drama, no anger, just beauty and mutual affection. It was perfect.

Okay, I pushed that experience to the limits. It was my test. My scientific nature was curious and wondered how far can one go in a game like that. The answer is: yes, you can say 'I love you'.

A Pathway to Gold

This evening I realised that going to the Olympics and winning gold or even playing competitive sport on a national level may not be just that simple. Why the idea? Well, it was a very long time ago, when I was young and innocent, that I had a conversation about how amazing that would be to run around the stadium with a national flag in raised hands after winning something (that bit was not precise and not the most crucial). Believe me, that would be an extraordinary experience.

Last summer I was lucky to go to the Olympic games and watch female handball semifinals. I truly enjoyed that and I have returned determined to join a handball team, become pretty good at it and possibly go to Rio in 2016. It was a cunning plan. Handball is a very young sport in the UK and hence, despite my age and a late start, I could stand a chance to succeed. And lets not forget about getting a free British passport (which is some kind of a perk).

That brings me to today when finally I went to meet my local handball team. I felt like I ought to do it and at the same time I was full of shyness. I know, many of my friends would not call me shy however, when I dance wildly with strangers, talk loudly in public places and kiss unnamed girls at the bar I am for most of the time surrounded by my dearest and nearest and they always give me an incredible boost of confidence.

Pondering on that subject for most of my working day I decided to brave myself and do it, be a grown-up.

And guess what happened? My flatmates decided to play the parents for an evening and they walked me to the sport centre, watched me from the balcony and after all was done walked me home. Ah, I'm a very lucky creature.

But back to the game. It's going to be a hard pathway to get where I would like to get in such a short period of time! I was like a lost lamb on that field and I definitely need to do a lot of work on my throwing. It was said to me many a times - I throw like a gay. Not even like a girl, like a gay (which despite my natural love for everything gay is not the most effective way of doing some things). Despite that shortcoming I believe to know a way of improving my game style and general performance that does not rely on just training. Maybe the time has come to test it..

The Blogging Project

Some long time ago my Dad said, 'If you want to write, you have to write.'
He was damn right. He also suggested that I could have my blog and use it as a daily writing exercise. The idea seemed good and very well suited but, as we say, I didn't know how to bite on it. I started two blogs, they lived a splendid butterfly life and that was it.
With the beginning of this year my friend, who is an upcoming writer, started her blog. She writes about writing and other stuff and keeps me entertained during long shifts at work. Not only that of course. I read and learn and get inspired.

And so it happened today that I decided to do it. The Blogging Project. Write something, anything for twenty minutes a day.

Multiple advantages:
- excellent writing exercise
- perfect routine exercise
- opportunity for ideas to grow
- dump place for all the things I often instantly want to say but on occasions there's no-one right next to me to share that with

What is it going to be about?
Life, love, lust.
Nice slogan, innit? But probably quite true. Life is all we have. Love is often all we want (or I do at least). And lust.. well..

I had two blogs already started so I decided to continue with one of them, which is the current one. The other one is called '30 things before I'm 30'. However, I'm over thirty now so that didn't seem appropriate. Nevertheless, I have 40 things before I'm 40 list (yes I do) and I may write about it here from time to time.