It has been such a long time since I wrote you a couple of words... few negligencily scattered words without any deeper meaning...
To be honest, I have no bloody idea why am I doing it now... it is not as something has changed or as I suddenly have some ingenious insight which, if not shared with you, will loose all its depth.
At the contrary, I am as empty and as caseless as I was months ago. Still drowned in my own hell of stiffed ideas and sterile expressions. Still bored to death with daily politics and monthly salaries. Still exausted with the inner fight against those sparkling memories of your presence...
Lately I have been an object of:
a) Fraud... legaly, morally, ethicly (I still have no idea why people divide those two terms... but I guess that it is just because I am such a lost case in terms of morality, both – theoretical and practical one), finacialy, professionaly. An object of deep controversial decision which damaged my integrity and influenced the quality of my sleep (not as it was good before). I have found myself in a position of Don Quijote but I felt like Rosinante most of the time... like they wanted to make Rosinante out of me, as it was not bad enough to be twenty-six years old , female (blond, not to forget) Don Quijote in Serbia.
b) Unnecessary shared private information. That means that I have spent hours in meaningless disscussions with some people I hardly know (and I mean this literally) forced to listen and solve their cute little dillemas always concerning significant Other. Of course, if I want to be fair, my friends (real ones) know how deep is the shit I am in lately, so they are not trying to force me to anything... usually they are just letting me be hidden in my own hell at fourth flour, silent and calm as calm I can be. But those other people... God, you wouldn’t believe... those people never stop to think whether I want to know all these things about them, whether I am intereseted at all in their private mazes and triangles or which ever figure they create. They talk, and talk and talk... And, God knows why, I allow them to do that... like I am punishing myself over and over gain... I force myself to stay and listen and be constructive although all I really want is to scream to them to leave me, the hell, alone!!!
So, basically I am a bit sick of love stories of any kind. Not as I wouldn’t be different just a couple of months ago…but, thank God, it has passed like a disease… and now I am completely healthy when it comes to these issues… I have managed to conduct the amputation of painful parts of my Being which were infected by you… to be honest, I still try to use that gone part of my ideational body… like a cripple trying to use a leg which was cut off. And sometimes it is as I still can feel the pain, distant, limpid one… but it is weaker and weaker and I need less and less time to remember that it is gone… that infected, gangrenous part of my Mind which consisted out of you, your role on my life, my emotions and thoughts connected to you and our common memories… such a disgusting part it was…all gone purple and stinky, with naked flesh turning green over the putrid bone… it had to go… it had to be amputated… so it was… and now I am much better, so much better… if you would just know how much better I am… emotionless and perfectly sterile… sharp again in thought and act… without feverish illusions of your presence in the past and future.
Anyway… as a perfectly sterile object of fraud, love stories, my own amputation skills… I guess I just wanted to say that I don’t miss you anymore… at all…