Expectations

expectations are good
You live for something. Something can make you happy, satisfied, good. Expectations make you wake up in the morning, expectations make you go to gym or parties. Expectations are good, very good, unless they are connected with the people in your life.

#MoralityRules The good, the bad, and the balance

It was a beautiful July evening. Golden apricot was in the city. I left the cinema and rushed to the car. Still under the influence of the film, I was quite in two minds whether it was smarter to walk or drive in the small center. Of course, I chose the second. Of course, the first option was the right one. Well, my friends were waiting for me in the cafe where they could not find a place (my city is known for the abundance of fancy cafes which are always fully booked, even on a Tuesday evening), and this made my curve for parking more stressful. I don't know why I decided to try the yard around Cascade (lame idea, do not repeat). I found myself trapped between the truck in front, the jeep behind which had comfortably squeezed to the right letting me pass in case I succeeded in a one-lane yard. I had no other way but turn around and in doing this hit the car parked near the wall and left a beautiful curvy dent on the driver's wing. And I managed to turn around and leave, and in this one minisecond when I was thinking about my car, his car, my friends, the drivers watching the show, Satan whispered to my ear " Just drive on". But my legs were far from my ears, and I was already writing my phone number and name on the fancy pink sticker (I always keep with me to leave romantic notes to dirvers) and leaving it on the dented car owner's windshield under the gaze of drivers whose face said "Is she stupid or what?!", or at least I thought so.
And I knew I did the right thing. I called my friend to see how much my damage might cost me, and spent the night calculating my spending so I can afford paying my damage and dreading the call I will get in the morning. And now the guy called to say "thank you for not running away, for respecting my car and me, I imagine the situation, I am a driver, too, I understand you. And when I saw your number and what you did I knew what exactly I would say when I called. So thank you. And I work in Cascade, please let me treat  you with something small next time you pass by". He wholeheartedly ignored my requests to bear my deserved financial responsibility, and kept on taking care of my car asking if I had damaged it a lot. I told this to my friends who were merely shocked. They are always bewildered when I tell how people treat me.
 So the moral of the story is quite obvious. This story left a bigger impression on me especially after last week's police officers fining me and apologizing for doing so. I don't know if my world is different than that of yours, but in my world people notice, people respect, people appreciate, people value. And thanks for that!
P.S. a 9K penalty for speeding just arrived, which makes me feel good (I will pay off to life, if not the driver whose car I damaged, and it is normal, it is fair. Life is fair).
#MoralityRules

Some happy moments

It was a beautiful Saturday evening, and I was on my way home. I had spent the day enjoying myself at the pool, and the evening around a hearty chat with a friend. Now he was driving me home, and I felt happy. I felt happy because I was not the pne to drive, also because I went up the car sunroof and opened my arms. Now I will love Komitas avenue, because that is where I felt the moment. It Felt amazing. Then I bent my head on the seat and was looking at the sky through the open sunroof till we got to my building. I remembered our conversation and my conviction that true love happens and sucks)) I remembered my conversations with my best trio  friends today and how much I love them notwithstanding any obstacle. I remembered the achievements and losses I have had in my life...and I felt happy.In a second faces of all the people I loved mixed in one, and stared at me. I felt happy for myself, I felt proud of myself. I stopped giving fucks to things that did not deseve ones. Whiskey did its job- I felt happy. And the crazy friend singing to the song, and the moments of very honest sharings.

Some happy moments happen.

Just a human

I am listening to the song you played in your car the first time you were taking me to my workplace. And you were singing along. I was suprised you actually knew the lyrics. And your singing along meant you were really relaxed with me beside you, and wanted to still impress me. Well, I was already well impressed.
I am listening to the song and smiling like an idiot. I recall your profile look, your beautiful chiseled nose and chin, and your plump lips that were sore after the drink and cigarettes we shared. You could not keep your eyes of me when I asked for your cigarette, and you actually closed your lashswith enjoyment when you were holding the lighter beneath my nose. "It damn suits you", you said, and your eyes flashed even brighter.
How beautifully nervous you get when I read your mind every single step of our way. How you say you bless the day you met me. How we drink and drive together competing who is a worse driver. How I smell your chest and neck and save your brew under my eyelashes. I love how you aolve my problems, I admire how you admire me. And it is so cute when we met and you say " Damn you, everything turned out the way you said". And I love that you actually think I am a Witch, because only a Witch can feel you so well and make you love her so unconditionally.
Well, I am not. I am just a human, like your song says.

Routine

Work heals, lessons heal, routine heals...
I was just checking another bundle of quizzes, when the Youtube accidentally played our song, the song of my university love and me...I ignored it first, resisted for a while, then put the green pen down, and sat back. I feel nothing. I am friends with Him now, friends like friends, friends like we talk about our separate personal lives, friends like we chat occasionally and it feels fine, friends like we apologized and Love is gone, friends like He is the walls I can lean on whenever...What a bitch time actually is. It washes away all...the good...the bad...all...the valueless becomes valuable, and irreplaceablea become forgotten...with time...by time...by routine....Right was Lennon when saying life is what haooens to us while we make plans...I was planning to do drama, I was planning to be an emotional woman, but I ended up going back to My Ice Queen Bitchiness, routine did it to me...again...Still, routine rocks...Routine arranges, puts the books in their drawers! Routine cleanses itself, like a lazy warm fed cat!

We need a Muse or One Open Letter to Bella

We were talking the other time, and I promised to say it out clear for you. Bella, we, people who write, need a Muse. We need inspiration. We need the vibes to write. And some writers describe authentic feelings. I do. What I write about is 100 % genuine -  I have experienced it. Sometimes people involved made me that high, sometimes I myself, I chose to feel that way, that deep, that crappy....but we do need a Muse to write. And it is an honour, a blessing to be a Muse for one, to be the Hero or Heroine of the writer's storyline. We take it deep, and serve you back. It goes through us, and we progress through it. We write, we set free, we let go. This is how we go.
A guy's look in the cafe made me mention him in my writing, not because I fell madly in love, or I had some hopes connected with him, but because short glances, vibrant touches and rare instant vibes nourish our mind and fingers to type like a psycho (very much like you when typing your papers in a race)!
Do you remember that emotional letter I sent you and Suzy about one date? You labeled it the warmest ever. Do you think he knows he made me feel that high? Do you think he guesses I told anyone about that night? No, he doesn't have to. He doesn't need to. That was me who was so inspired to share it with you. That was me whose Inside rolled over because of the vives he gave me. I took his Vibes to find Myself. And I am thankful to each and every Muse I have ever had.
We need a Muse to believe in the reality of our Sensitive World, We need a Muse to apply our fantasies. We need a Muse to strive through our Life Dramas.Be Grateful to be a Muse to one, or the One.

Choices

I chose it all - my job, my friends, my thoughts, my coffee. It is difficult to choose between Cappu and Cinna-topped Americano, Apple or Samsung, but it's even more difficult to choose people to share them with. I do it acknowledging the mistakes I might have made. But the ride is worth it all. The disappointment will fade away, as the Cappu will stop attracting me. And I will not choose that cherry lipstick from now on. I tossed it today. I tossed my disappointments,too. And whatever we are one thing is a must " One needs to have ***ls', notwithstanding the gender, to move ahead, still brave...still open-hearted...still moral.