I’m getting cold feet
To him whose toes rest in a warm sand
With cocktail occupying giving hand
I’m getting cold feet
To him whose toes rest in a warm sand
With cocktail occupying giving hand
This whole life we’re in and out. Air, food, sex, style, money, love. The concept controls our lives, and the only grasp we have on it is the speed. Whether we cut the out short, or prolong the in.
A fetus is a baby with time. A longer breathing clears the mind. A withheld phone call develops temptation.
We can only control the speed, and with that much power we determine our destiny.
A woman in drags
Stood up to the transit mass
With eyes shining like marbles
Chopped lips reciting the bible
"A donkey saw an angel
That man was blind to see” she fussed
Lady, you’re making assholes out of us
By putting ass as an idol
Lady, pop a midol
I live by my own fiction
Your propaganda is a friction
Don’t rub it in my face
Your way I didn’t gaze
A new romance either ends badly or bedly
Teeth shouldn’t be whiter than eye sclera if you want people to make eye contact during the conversation
It’s hard to concentrate on writing when you have to hold your tongue-in-cheek
We all do bad things, just some are better at PR
Those who will spend 2K on a table tonight: I will give you half off in my apt, create a bathroom line and be the hot girl who ignores you
People don’t change, your opinion of them does.
When people are talking about people they never include themselves
Drinking 3 glasses of tap water didn’t kill me, but a full bladder may
I don’t watch what I eat, I stare at it
If you don’t make the team, make a team
People will remember the things you don’t text them more than things you do
There is annoying and then there is Woody Allen annoying
The only profession that should be judged by the years of experience is prostitution
Millennial love only makes sense when hash tagged
Interviewer: what are your weaknesses?
Interviewer: This job will involve heavy filing.
Round or square?
Make believe and they’ll believe, then you’ll believe
To find serendipity one mustn’t surrender to pity
1 night being myself, 6 days restoring reputation
When someone unfriends you on social media it means they want to be friends in real life. Call them
I dragged my muddy boots along the street
Where high heels and gelled hair meet
Thrown back into the routine of this world
After skipping through the land of hope.
The strange land one wanders into at least once
I walked on the right path, stood clear of moss
Oh but how pretty that lake off the route, I had to see
And deeper into mud I dipped my feet.
Forgetting time, forgetting my way home,
And everybody knows there’s no phone
The lands of hope are what may be
But soon enough, back home we flee.
Picture by me, reflection in MET
An old man sat across from me, closing his eyes periodically, as if digesting my Generation Y lingo. “I’ve met many people like you, Viktoriya,” he said, “you will get bored in few months and find another job.”
"It’s true" I thought.
“It’s not true!” I said.
He’s been burnt too many times and developed a hard, thick layered skin from repetitive wounds. It’s hard to get to people like this old man. You have to be a game changer. But in order to change something we must understand it. Breathe it. Love it. And often a game changer is mistaken for a player.
Either way, he gave me a chance to prove him wrong.
A young man sat across from me, enthusiastically planning our future. “I’ve heard that line many times before,” I thought, “you will change your mind tomorrow and disappear.”
"I know what you’re thinking," he said, "but I’m here for the long haul."
I never do this. Post others’s stuff on this blog. But
no one not many write me poems either. So when they break the rules! I do too!
loud noises by Dan
pavements shiver. taxi tires squeal. street lights flicker with anticipation.
from out of nowhere loud noises arc around the corner of 53rd and Lex.
wind gusting through the steel canyon senses her presence
screeches to a standstill flicking the hem of the flowing dress
the school of pedestrians parts as she strides through
to the tune of the silent cello resonating the rhythm of her tango
urbia inhales and holds its collective breath for she is dashing
there is no time to exhale
a she-wolf is on the prowl and nary a one is safe
for she will take down her prey
My friend went on a date with an architect. She’s an architect too. And naturally, they spoke about architecture. Unfortunately, that’s all they spoke about.
So I told her to draw an archetype to her heart and present it to him on the next date. She laughed at the idea, “how should I know?” she said. I guess she had a point, how should we know the length of ladder to our heart when some get there faster than others.
I once crafted a suggestive Facebook status, that solely aimed at one specific crush. Those are so evident, many of my friends do it and I “like” it out of pity. I came to my senses and didn’t post it. But it made me feel biased that I support the behavior yet don’t dabble in it.
So I decided to stop giving the advice I wouldn’t take myself. The real test began when my friend g-chatted me to get a girl’s perspective. He went out with a girl whom he didn’t want to see again and asked if he should go into silence or thank her for the date anyway.
I had a choice to switch to invisible status and pretend like I never saw the chat. Or I could’ve told him to thank her, because that’s a nice gesture - disappearing is not nice. But then I remembered those few times I disappeared on my bad dates. So I said “hmmmm… that’s a tough, tough situation, I sympathize with you. What would you do?” And something revolutionary happened! He answered his own question - which of course didn’t make sense to me, but then again I never take my own advice.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in. I let go of all that the day entailed with a breath out. Leaving all in the past I awaited for the new profound meaning — I sat still following further instructions, acknowledging noises in the room; the air conditioner, a woman’s voice echoing from the street, the occasional chair squeaks.
I found my mind running through snapshots of potential “it” moments. “Go back to the time you accomplished something - a proud moment, the moment you felt most you.” New job, anniversary with my boyfriend, presentation to investors, basketball team – no, no, not it.
Suddenly my eyes began to tear. I found myself alone, on my way to Spain, where I would meet my childhood friend and spend two most liberating weeks of my life.
“There”, she said, “label this moment of who you are and come back to it when you’re unsure.”
Unsure. I have been unsure so much lately that when asked what I want for dinner I couldn’t find an answer. I’ve been looking to others to make that decision for me – how did I expect myself to love, to get the dream job, to live my own life when I couldn’t make a simple decision between chicken and fish?
I looked around the room, at women much older than I – some nodding, others in shock. Living through others’s lens is not so uncommon — most of us live our lives based on opinions, approval and decisions that are not our own We lose that inner mojo somewhere along the parental expectations, peer pressure, magazines telling us how we should look and love. We lose our authentic selves in the popular opinion and society’s standards because we want to be accepted and loved.
But the ingredient to happiness we often overlook is love for ourselves — the longest relationship of our lives, with ourselves.
I teared when I thought about my trip to Spain because I was my true self then. Away from family, friends, work, boys – far away from home is where I found the inner comfort. I thrived in the unknown. There, alongside of my best girl friend with whom I grew up and haven’t seen in 14 years. I revisited the child who didn’t care to please anyone, I revisited the ego. The child who recited poems and spent a lot of time in casts trying to prove a point that girls can jump further than boys.
I leaped the furthest again, but this time back to myself, and this time without an injury.
Once we were able to speak again, a woman cleared her throat and announced her defining moment was when she fled for an airport instead of her own wedding ceremony. Everyone in the room grasped and clapped their hands in amusement. As if leaving a groom at the altar was a heroic step. Only after did I realize it wasn’t her fearless action I admired, but rather the loud and clear voice she told the story with. The acceptance in her voice justified that she made the right choice for herself, even if it disappointed many others.
Do we stop ourselves from doing or saying what we feel is right out of fear we may be perceived the wrong way? The thing is - we are always going to disappoint people’s expectations merely by being alive. But how soon they forget what we did, and how long do we remember?
This is why I’m stopping the express train for a moment to enjoy the sight. Maybe going locally from here. And this is not some spiritual bullshit of finding oneself – no – this is me going back to Spain where we got lost a lot, but with every wrong turn found a hidden surprise. Where we sometimes walked in circles, but each time saw something new we didn’t see in previous rounds.
I want to nail that headstand in yoga class, I want to start working for myself, I want to live on my own, I want to travel more with my best friend. I want to make my own decisions and know I’ve made the right choice not because I read it in a magazine or got a nod of approval from someone. But because of what feels right to me, even if it’s wrong to someone else. Because I’d rather live my wrong life than someone’s right one.
And so it begins, the unlearning curve.
Always say ciao, oui, pardon
People never like their own