bitter sweet

absinthe at chocolaterie a:partment / me and my partner in crimes

misty veils are blue drawn silky shades

i heard one say: you don't have to be always right – you don't have to go in alone
(it's all true that because) sometimes you can't do it on your own

I love the variety, but always ending up back the lucky row of contributing an inspiring options, is incredibly down-to-earth and (non)wanted. It’s like fascinating private exploration of the inner states how far we go, while still be one heck of a girl, claiming for a little fun. My aim is to promote understanding and tolerance between, on the ground level. However, I’m determined that something positive should come out of the primitive evil. I also feel fear, isolation and shame; in many areas of my life I’m carefree and confident. Life has always had to do battle with the elements – so it makes sense to choose both winning or losing, and facing the rain when it’s raining – or shine to the helping hands, being given. The city is no longer a glided cage or a prison, it’s where you can unleash your femininity & right all the wrongs of the day – although the very technological, masculine environments, so there’s a huge shift away from any kind of minimalist masculine decorating – because that’s too much like work obsession – with being judged by our peers; gravity-defying measure. Must completely go out the window. No more sense and simplicity ~ most of us associate each other as seductive personalities, procreative and enthusiastic. But being lonely & single can be somehow scary, exciting & ultimately, liberating experience; can be really nervous in case no one is interesting due to logic, steeped in prejudice; can be terrifying moment every inch of the way. The hardest time is Sunday, when I think of people having cosy, smooth and silky days in. Having dug myself into a hole, I’m yet not sure if I’ll know how to get apart and out of it; well, I can imagine myself wanting to settle down and have some confidence but, in the meantime, I’m just experiencing both sides of the life. Even if it take another turnover to be next to the right person, I’m happy to wait. No matter what is said or done in the meantime.

Back to reality. It’s raining (again) and it’s foggy (again), but the weather doesn’t matter – as this is emotional time, having similar feelings recently with similar thoughts in mind, and it seems appropriate to put those feelings into words, whether recent events has changed the outlook on life and whether any change have made a result. Got to be a great believer in the power of a gaze held for a second too long – it’s a shortcut to intimacy; about breaking down barriers, even if just for a few moments. It can be a look, a light caress or even laughing at the same joke on the phone. It is very touchy, full of innuendo and you love it. In general, though, it’s harmless way of letting off steam without actually being unfaitful or even wanting to be. But there’s a fine line between a light touch and making someone feel invaded or threatened by the presence. Basically, you learn where that line is through experience and you don’t cross it, give as good as you get – when it’s just a bit of fun and, who knows, it could lead to something special. I’m never short of things to say. While I adore a good natter, I like to think that I’m a pretty listener, too. Being interested in other people comes naturally to me. It’s partly because of my job, partly because of my behaviour but mostly because of my personality. That’s why some confidence comes in handy. It gives people the perfect excuse to break the ice. I suppose there’s no substitute for spending tiime with the people who are close you. Who will you inspire today? Give yourself a goal. You need to decide how you’re going to do it; plan how to achieve it. Successful people manage their lives, it helps you stay on track. This means making lists of possible things you want to achieve over different time frames. The mindset is to believe in yourself, despite the odds; the mantra – if you know it’s impossible, do it. Just enhance your self-belief; become a risk-taker.

Stella (of the wreckoning)

The Man’s Man

(some scenes of a memory) “He was tired. So tired, he barely picks his feet up as he walks across the room and throws himself into a chair. His head slumps forward briefly as he takes a breath and scrunches his face into both hands, before looking up to reveal dark shadows beneath his smoky green eyes. He stifles a yawn and, for a moment, looks too exhausted even to speak. And then he flashes a smile – the kind of roguish smile that instantly explains how he’s ravaged with the exhaustion, initially looking quite ordinary. But you catch a glimpse of a briefly sigh, you hear his slow, gravelly voice, which sounds like he’s just out of bed, you see the lines crinkle around his magnetic eyes as he laughs, you catch moments of his streetwise wit, deference to his teenage days – and you know He is rather special.”

Your key words are gamekeeper, corduroy, muscle tone and anything else that brings to mind a young hero who never says anything at all. It’s another truism that you never know what you’ve got till it’s gone – but that’s the beauty of the situation. Ambitious & idle – enormously attractive and, as broad brush strokes, it still pretty much sum up the perfectly formed wish out the society. Where you find a prejudice, you find a strong sense of personal identity. And whatever you find out of those, goddamit, you find it amaizingly interesting, deadly attractive. He’s man of stone, will have the torso of a young god, the interior life of a tortured genious and a spoken vocabulary of about a whole academy. It’s amistery, but when he’s hone you do understand why a person might throw away her entire life to see him again just once. Or a few times more. Anybody can have muscles, anyone can say a little, but it takes a man’s man to turn silence into such work of art, to make it look so deep, that it hurts. A lot. He’s a stranger to any vanity; he shies away from the large gatherings. The unreconstructed male might sound like a nuisance, in so for as he’ll (maybe) never do the washing – up or dauge the nappies. But then if you have a dishwasher and no children, you can dispense with carping and whining and instead concentrate on how fabulous he is. The Man’s Man specialises in standing-up way, drinking while never seeming drunk, catching girls who are about to fall over and looking surely; he will run through women like they’re burning a hole in his clothes. That hurts, too. But, this is a key – having found the right one, will not mess about. The natural air of authority is guaranteed. I think it’s because there’s no male accessory on earth sexier than a spirit level. It’s more an attitude than a set of skills, with a top note of grown-up-itude and independence that prevents him from just being plain childish and annoying. Two words define him: mighty fine. The Man’s Man is also a bad boy, apparently. It’s not a secret that a good girl loves a bad boy, isn’t it?

- stella: ‘Ello, mate! You’ve got a bit of a smile in this day, I suppose?
- vlad: Well, you know how it goes. When it rains, it pours. When it doesn’t, you just have to sit back and chill – I’m good at doing nothing, too. Just smiling…