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Saturday, November 30, 2013

Tiny stories about my life in Spain

Working with children= the best contraception

I’ve always wanted to be a writer, scriptwriter ideally. Writing is the thing I care about; it completes me and fills my life with orange blossom fever. How in hell instead of paper and pen, did I end up surrounded by children who sneeze and cough on my face? I guess it was a fear and panic attack...I graduated in June, had no job fearing to move back to my country and live with my parents again. I always wanted to move to Spain, to work in Barcelona/Madrid in film industry. Obviously the life was generous to me once again and the only job I could get was working in a bilingual school as a classroom assistant. Oh well why not? I thought.
You know I get why people are having children. They could be really cute with their chubby faces, perfect complexion, mischievous smile and tiny hands. Yeah if you see them on the photo, or in a cute baby advert it could seem like a perfect idea..... Unfortunately their cute faces are mostly dirty, they touch what they can find, lick everything around and they never shut up or stop moving.
I admit that sometimes I’m actually having fun working with children. They are so refreshing and innocent. The whole world is so new and strange to them and they look at everything in awe. That’s the thing: they make me look at world from different angle that gives me chills of joy. There’s a little boy called Manuel in my class and he’s such a dreamer. Mostly he’s eating the tree in the playground, sees things and points out at empty places saying: Can you see them, Miss Tami? And I’m like: No. How sad making? I wish I could see what he does.
My favourite one used to be little Hannah, only two with gorgeous doll-like face, short curly hair and glasses that magnify her eyes. Hanna hates male! If a man approaches she hides behind me. Unfortunately last week a nurse found out she’d had a hair lice. That just destroyed our relationship. Anything stops being cute and adorable when the lice are involved.
Despite all these cute moments, children can be so annoying! They complain shit lots. ‘He pushed me! She doesn’t want to be my friend! My tummy hurts.....’ One of my students Lulu hates eating in the school and each time before the lunch she’d always make up lies like: my belly hurts... Once she actually said that her upper lip hurt so she couldn’t chew. At some point I told her: Honey, that’s nothing. Wait till you get your period. That’s the real pain.
Please, kind people living in Europe if you have any writing/TV/film vacancies please hire me!!!

Bike hate
Well I got that gorgeous light blue bike and I was so content, thinking I don’t have to walk to the beach anymore. How splendid! First time I cycled with my gorgeous flatmate Kate and it wasn’t cool at all. You know to stay on the right side and to look straight all the time and to be careful not cycle into a pedestrian.....what a bore. On the way back however I had to cycle myself because I was supposed to Skype my brother who lives in Japan (he actually forgot about our Skype meeting. Timothy, I still remember this betrayal and I will) So I was cycling and cycling when I noticed that all the cars in my lane were going the wrong way round. Then the drivers started to beep at me and shout that I should have been on the other side. They were shouting so much that I got really confused and nervous. Eventually I stopped the bike, left it on the street and walked home crying. Honestly it’s better to walk even if it takes longer. It’s so hard to live in the world without direction sense and to get lost everywhere: supermarkets, empty rooms, balconies... Strangely I didn’t have that problem in London. I felt like the streets knew where I wanted to go and took me everywhere I wanted.

When you feel bad call your mother.
Of course I got ill after so many children were coughing/ sneezing on my face. My nose was blocked and I couldn’t breathe properly. I went for an x ray and the results were: asthma, allergy and cold. The doctor said that it was the humidity that this place is not good for my health that I should live in the city. Apparently my lungs love pollution. Anyway I woke up in the middle of Friday night being sick. I had to crawl to the laundry room to wash all that vomit. After that I was lying on the kitchen floor and the idea of having a boyfriend didn’t seem that bad anymore. I called my mother who wasn’t thrilled about me calling her that late saying:  Oh my God, you’re just exaggerating! You’re like your father, a little flue and it’s the end of the world.

Attached a picture of my lovely face

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Oh these cats and ladies dressed in diamonds!

It was a cold cold night and she was wearing red silk dress with diamonds. She had a crown on her head, no tights only heels. There were no thoughts in her head but void, a deep and profound void. She was staring at the dark sky. That night was RUN AWAY night. It started on a party with filthy rich people being high on sadness, incomplete pleasures and unkept promises. The artificial happiness soaked into her clothes and took away her shattered laughter. That place lacked dreams and future. There was so much sad and fake presence that her caramel smelling lungs were collapsing. She tried to look for anything that could make her happy or give her any sort of pleasure like when she was popping the bubble wrap. Unfortunately apart from white powder, silent crying and old men trying to spread out young model’s legs, there was just heavy smell of mixed designer perfumes. She had to leave, to go to that place her ghosts took her one day. She was desperately trying to call them. ‘Georgie! Martha! Olga?’ It was pointless. They only came when they wanted. Cheeky dead bastards!

Suddenly there was a guy leading her into a bedroom. He started to undress her right away and was looking into her eyes but she couldn’t see him. There was only blank and deserted place, somewhere she dreaded to go. She panicked and bit the man’s lips hard. He swore and called her filthy whore. Quickly she ran away, tired of her own existence, name, face and the past...the past that made her ache because it was so artificial like a very bad theatre play she had to perform every day. She couldn’t even sleep in a natural way. Lies, lies and lies, smashing and stabbing the truth she already forgot.

She ran into the balcony suddenly panicking and feeling unbearably heavy. She started to get undressed. All that diamond heaviness fell on the floor and let millions of moths out to the starless sky. Sudden fresh air made her cough. The innumerable colours were there again and smelled like Sunday morning. Standing naked in the balcony she smiled and brought the rain. She had noticed a cat meowing, trying to climb up to the next balcony. She took the cat into her arms and went to the balcony next door with her. The rain around the stranger’s balcony door turn red, she opened the door and walked in. The room was soaked with warmth, Leonard Cohen’s music and marshmallow promises. A man was sitting in a chair behind the computer, speechlessly looking at her. She, standing there naked with a cat in her arms, smiled gently. All of sudden she remembered her mother saying: The polite thing is to bring a gift when you visit someone. She brought her naked body and the rain of course.

Monday, November 18, 2013

Yesterday’s Sunday

Little spider crawled out of my eye and left it red
A ghost visited me in my bath
He said the death doesn’t provide enlightenment  
And that I better bring my own pillow over there
Thousands of paper airplanes tried to lift me up
But my socks wouldn’t let go
Rootles trying to find home in the sky
Like a sad lullaby singing in the air
Like a coffee stain on I love London t-shirt
Wanting, not wanting, wandering, despairing
And hoping for that little peace in the sunflower closet.