She died

It was 24th of December, the first day before Christmas, or Christmas itself, depends on the place where you live in. Somebody called my grandmother and told her that she died - my great aunt died in a hospital the same day. I've never asked how or why she was there. Well we were having lunch with my family while my grandma received the call. My mum felt into tears, and my grandfather who's sister passed away - he was stoned. I felt alienated - like I haven't had anything to be sad about, even about the pain that the others felt. My sister told me I'm cruel and I'm the only one who doesn't feel anything, after I asked her if she feels alienated as well.

Today is 26th of December and my great-aunt is under the ground. The funeral was right at 12 o'clock. I don't wanted to go. Firstly I wanted to be there, to see all the pain, to feel and eat it. Then I thought it would be too cruel. I stayed at home with my sister. She - my sister, right from the beginning refused to visit the funeral. Me on the other hand, I was thinking, and still do, about the coffin, about it's shape. Was it traditional as I call it "Carpathian" model, because the first time i felt in love into a coffin was years ago, while I was watching Van Helsing, so there I saw the coffins while the blond haired mortician was pretending he was dead in one of them. So yeah, my twisted mind made me think about coffins. And now while I'm writing I find the possibility of her laying in an expensive coffin negative. She was a peasant woman. Living at one room all alone with her cats. Too old. As i know her life was not the best she lost husband and children when she was young. So her life was in pain. Maria - her name, she was buried without pain. Sounds good...well, she passed away in a hospital. Don't know if it's because of disease, but even if it was, she was old - 87, as I heard this morning. My mind leads me to the thought that she don't wanted to live any longer, and to die at exactly this time. Perhaps her thoughts were "Another Christmas and I'll be alone, but this Christmas I'll be alone in a hospital lying not on my bed, not in my house, being here in agony. It's time to join my beloved once, that I lost long time ago".

And her spirit flew away, my imagination builds the picture of her and what relief she felt at this very moment when her spirit left the body. This weak, sorrowful body.

My mum and dad came back home from the funeral. Maria is buried in the cold winter ground. The corpse was born at the 1st day of September, 87 years ago, in year 1925. 

66 years after on the very same day I have been born. And I'm wearing the name of Magdalena.

Sounds funny she was Maria/Marry and me Magdalena/Magdalene. 66 years teared Marry Magdalene apart.

Bible symbols...some another shit...

She died.

R.I.P.

Disappointment

It has been a long time since the last time I wrote here. I am not sure if somebody is really that interested in reading the following sentences. I am sorry for my English :}



We all love somebody, or like somebody, or just prefer the one.


Our feelings are making us weak, and much more fragile. Fragility is a common happening in our heart, mind or soul, depends on the way of understanding. We are building a wall with expectation, emotions, fears about ones personality. And one day something happens, our fears are meeting the expectations we have. This changes the structure of the wall and the whole Universe we have built. The emotions, which I am able to see as colour in this case, are changing. The wall looks brand new - new structure, new colour, everything seems to look different. We do not think how is it in real, we are able to accept only what we think we see, after rebuilding the view we are putting a ban in front of us. The wall grows every time when there is a recreation, the reason of it are the emotions. Every time they are more than the previous, we are collecting feelings mixed with emotions. But once again the understanding here depends on the way we explain feeling and emotion. So whatever...feelings + emotions, the wall is growing, changing colours, growing, changing colours and growing, growing, growing...Sometimes it is not able to grow any longer and it stops, when it stops it is so high that only a small blow, like the one we use to blow a small candlestick, is able to ruin it.