For what I am (not)

Dzisiaj będzie historyczne wydarzenie na blogu. Otóż zamierzam się podzielić swoimi ostatnimi pisaninami. Oraz ujawnię swoją facjatę, bo będzie pasować do tematu historii. Haczyk jest taki, że story jest po angielsku, a zdjęcie jest zaraz po wyjściu od fryzjera. Tyle się zmieniło, że nie mam już tak ułożonych włosów, teraz żyją swoim własnym życiem. Ale to nic. Powinno dać jakieś wyobrażenie. A i z góry przepraszam za wszelakie błędy gramatyczno-ortograficzne, mimo tylu lat nauki tego języka, nadal mi się zdarzają.

Co mnie tak nagle naszło na takie coś? No cóż. Może nie chciałam być totalnym anonimem, a parę osób już mi pisało, że lubią czytać mojego bloga i czują się lepiej, bo zdarza mi się ubrać w słowa to, co oni mają w głowach, ale sami nie potrafią. Tak więc krótka historia na mój temat, żebyście lepiej mnie poznali.

For what I am (not).

I am that short girl who has to ask random people for help in order to get something from the top shelf. I’ve always been the shortest one in the group. I am a girl with short brown hair. I just don’t care about my looks. There are days when I don’t even brush them, just let them go whatever they want to be. Wind can be my hairdresser. My eyes are blue and people say they’re pretty. But how can I tell, they’re just eyes to me. I swear a lot when I’m angry. And I’m angry almost all the time. I guess I should have some anger management classes. I also can hit you. Doesn’t matter if you’re a boy or a girl, if you’re twice my height. I’m not afraid of possible wounds and bruises. Maybe because I know that flesh can heal a way faster than soul. And my soul has scars like no other. I like to be alone but I hate being lonely. And I feel lonely a lot. I have a few close friends. I’m not that shy I can go out at night and make blurry memories with strangers. But I’m constantly in need of someone really close, someone to hold me when I’m silently crying and shaking. And I cry a lot these days. I can cry when I hear a song that brings me back memories. Or when I stare at the sunset. Even sunrise. Or when I clean my room and find that one little thing which belongs to you. Or when I go to bed and instead of falling asleep I think about everything bad that ever happened to me. I make up the strangest scenarios in my head. But on the other hand I can laugh like crazy at the stupidest jokes. Or I can smile to myself in the middle of something just because I recall some thing that happened over a year ago. What else? My mind is full of song lyrics, books and movie quotes. My hands are used to holding a book, my fingertips are thicker from pushing the guitar strings. My voice can be shaking at the end of the day because I sing almost all the time. When I can’t sing I whistle. I feel more comfortable around boys. I’ve always been a tomboy hanging out with boys next door. Girls were boring to me. I preferred to climb the trees, bruise my knees and run wild instead of sitting at fake tea parties with lots of dolls.

There are many things that I am. And even more that I am not.

I am not a tall skinny girly girl. That type boys love. In fact I’ve never had a boyfriend. But I was in love. I was in love with a girl but she didn’t feel the same about me. I think I was in love with a boy too. I fell in love with people’s souls not gender or looks. And now I’m all alone. It can be good sometimes. I have all bed for myself. But on the other hand I want to belong with someone. I want a soul mate, a best friend, a lover. I crave for one thing I can’t have, I crave for love. And also I’m scared to make any first move. And I don’t have anyone on the horizon which I would date. There are days when it drives me insane. But most of the time I don’t think about it I just live my life. I’m both happy and sad I’m still trying to figure out how can it be.

I to tyle. Zdjęcie też jest super ucięte, ale jego pierwotnym celem było uwiecznić mój hairstyle. Tak czy inaczej, jak się spodoba pisańsko, to mam jeszcze trochę takich krótkich historii in inglisz, którymi mogę się podzielić.