What if I told you that I am not a nice girl? What if you could see the real me, the one with a dark soul and a filthy mind? Would you say then that you like me?..you wouldn’t. You would run..you will run. You will run when I’ll show you how much I enjoy playing with your mind and crushing your heart. I crave for tears..I crave for other’s pain as my pain was the food for other’s starving hearts.

So don’t let me play with you..go away as you still can because I will tear you apart piece by piece..slowly and mercyless.

like me and you

People like me are not meant to live great love stories. People like you are not allowed to live love stories. We can just dream about them, we can hope..desperatly hope to live one, but we end up imagining what would feel like to live a love story. At the smallest trumble of our heart we colapse, we think that if we give it all, we will recive equally…well..it’s not like that at all.

People like me and people like you fall in love alone..and stay in love forever, because we are not very good at climbing. So we stay there and hope that someday, someone will fall there with us. It never happens, to anyone who is like us. It is not how this world works. If there were no people like us, there were no great love stories to be read, ’cause we dream about the most beautiful thing and we are able to descrie feelings that we are not lucky enough to have, feelings that each and everyone else has but us.


Where were you?

I got to the point where my mind keeps screaming and shouting from the bottom of it’s langs…”Where were you? Where were you when I most needed you to have my back?” I was always there for you when you needed and at that time I got used to have you as my support in the hardest moments. But now, when my world got really shaken you were not there to help me keep my balance. 

I fell in my knees, I got hurt, but I wiped my tears while looking back to see if you are coming..and you were not there. Somehow I will move forward because I have to. I just miss that friend of mine who used to be way to sincere, who would have told me when I was wrond, that one who would not be afraid to correct me when I was wrong or to throu at me some harsh words just to make me open my eyes. I miss talking to you for hours, days..weeks about everything and nothing.

It’s hard not to have that one person at one call away when you just feel lonely and need to hear a voice at the other side of the line. That one voice that would make your heart trumble and also find it’s peace..

So..Where were you?


Love what you do!

I fell in love..

I’ve hated reading theater ever since I know myself. There was no actual action, no description, no feeling. I could not integrate the characters into the scenes and I could not give them faces. I have no trouble reading and creating a movie in my head out of written word..but theater was never my thing..until a while ago

I had the chanse to go to some plays that the students from the last year on acting from the National University of Arts and Theater had to preapare for their last exam. I have to say that I loved them..each one of them..I fell in love with their talent and dedication. I could read their love for what they are doing on their faces and that love made me love them.

I don’t think that talent is something you learn..it’s something you are born with. The only theing you have to do is to give it a shape, and the to try and reach the best of it. Actors, the great ones, with carisma, and dedication, and with that beautiful hearts and minds, are the ones that make me want to do something more for this worls. They inspire me and motivate me. They make me beleve that there are still people who live for beauty and for the hapiness of the others.





My mind has o block of inspiration. I mean..I know what I have to write and I want so much to write that all over in my head are voieces, and people and faces and feelings..my feelings and teir feelings. It drives me crazy..but the moment I put my fingers on the keys..I stop..nothing comes out right. She is not enough bohemian, he is too boring..her lips are not the right red, his tie is not the right color..it’s all a mess..i write the same part again and again and each time it looks worse..

No book was written over night, I guess, uless that one writer had some magical drug and you all know that movie..There are times when I think that I would do anything for a crazy moment of inspiration and freedom of expresion..moments when I would “sell my soul to the devil” for an idea that would take me high enough..but who knows what high enough actually means?

It’s frustrating when your mind is so feeld with sh*ts and you can’t do a thing. All the tension, all the stress fetter me from my work. I am so scared and so angry with me that I can’t even allow my feelings to be separated from my characters’ feelings.

I need that magic pill after all…

I can’t…


I woke up more dead then alive. My whole body is in pain..I can’t breathe, I can’t move.. I just want to sleep and forget, I want to erase my memory just like that. somethimes it is way too hard to walk these streets without seeing you at every step.

It feels like I am out of drugs, that may need for you is bigger then anything. You have cursed me with this pain that is killing me right now..

I am a wreak..I just want so lie in my bad and sleep..funny, ‘cuz even drems tell me that there is something in my past that needs to be trown away. My dreams are so strange anf full of real signification thet it scares me..you’ve made me so empty and lonely.

we love until we bleed…and then we fall apart….

I can’t make you a disposable part of my like, a disposable memory. I can’t hate you..

How to Touch a Soul

I love talented people. I love to see how the new generation (my generation) manages to express through art in a new and touching way.

I am one of those people who would stop breathing when a beautiful piece of art stays in front of me. I one of those who envies the ones who can touch your soul in such a splendis way. I do not consider myself able to ever do such a thing because I am not brave enough and overrated daring to step up.

Today is about music. I once was at open-entrance concert of some fabulous guys. They gave a new rythm to the classic music, and made it apreciated by those who do not know to apreciate beautiful things. they were full of positive energy and their love for what they do could be seen on their faces and heard in their tones. 

I will let you listen to them and judge. But I love them, just so you know.