Come Stay at My Place

I am the lucky one: I have my own apartment. It didn't always use to be like that but I was always dreaming of it. Just to be able to invite anyone to have dinner or to spend the night without having to ask my parents or the owner of the place.

Once an ex-girl of my partner whom I hadn't even known that time yet asked me if she could stay at my place for a night. Of course she could. And my partner was angry. "Doesn't she have anyone else in Prague to stay with?" " ... it didn't cross my mind to ask." And I don't know till now. If anyone needs my help, what is here to ask about?
When my sister sort of ran away from home and asked if she can sleep at my place, I didn't ask why and for how long. Yes. Without the slightest doubt. (Even though I called my mum a day after to ask what really happened and helped them to make up.)
Not long ago a friend of mine told me he might have to interrupt his studies and therefore leave the dorm. "You can always stay at my place." "Really? Thanks."




My life is not bad because of me being a woman. It is not bad because of me not having a degree. Not because of my parents not because of my love. It is because it is me. I am not sick, it is the way I am. There is no particular reason but it could not, cannot and will never be any other way.


If You Were Afraid To Fall Asleep Because Every Evening Somebody Wakes You Up, Wouldn't You Start Hating The Sleep As Such?

I cannot sleep, I cannot speak, I cannot write, I cannot read. I am sinking deeper and deeper to the depression, the lower I am the more I hate myself. How should I get better when every thought of my condition is killing me? What could I do without blaming myself first? Let me die, letmedie, letme ... let ... ...


Vegetarianism – As Times Go By

I started being a vegetarian when I was sixteen. Well, "a vegetarian"... I had to eat fish (because of my parents – that was their condition). Now I think it was only a way to make myself interesting. I had at least four friends who were vegetarians, my sister became one as well (after me – she was always afraid of "what parents will tell"), and it was sort of a subculture at our high school.
After five years of eating fish and not eating any other meat and proclaiming myself a vegetarian, I started eating all the meat again. It came all of a sudden: I was preparing brochettes for a friend of mine and I simply ate a half of all the bacon while slicing it. From that time on I was eating the portions of meat so huge that some people wouldn't believe there was not a tapeworm in my guts.

About two months ago I participated in a sheep slaughter (well, we called it "a sacrifice" but it made no difference) and as we were getting ready to it I realized I couldn't come to terms with a life being destroyed. It was most likely "a happy sheep" (if something like that makes sense at all) but I still felt so sorry for it that I decided right away to give up meat at all.

I don't intend to save the world, I don't particularly love animals as individuals, and I am even squeamish about a lot of species. I only love the living nature so much I cannot do that damage to it. I enjoy the pulsing life in any single body and in the nature as such. And if I don't like some animals or if they disgust me I just want to let them live far from me if possible, but who am I to kill them?

It's a matter of feelings, sentiments, the intuition,... I cannot provide you with a rational argument.

Le rayon vert by Les_macons_francais


Why I Have Short Hair

I used to have really long hair. I mean, almost to the waist and very thick. Fair and straight. Then once I decided I could try having short hair for a change and someone told me that I could get money for it. Not that much actually, it was like 50 euros but you wouldn't throw them away. I was very surprised how good I looked but first of all it liberated me somehow. Not because of less time spending on doing my hair in the morning – I had never been spending any time on that to be honest – but because I stopped being so obsessed about it. I realized I am just equally pretty without hair and even if I wasn't, who the hell cares.

Then I let my hair grow again. Only because it doesn't matter to me at all.

A long after that I was with my then boyfriend helping his male friends with changing the roof on their wooden cottage in the mountains. That time I was very strong and I really wanted to help but I was not allowed. I was the only woman there and I amazed them by what I was able to carry in my hands but when it came to a real work they were pushing me aside and sending me to the kitchen. I couldn't cook so I just sat there and was sad.
So sad that I longed for getting rid of my womanhood. Instead of cutting away my breasts I cut off my ponytail. The men there were amazed and amused and liked it. They wouldn't understand.

For some time on I was wearing my hair asymmetrical but it looked really bad and some friends of mine had to cut it which I don't like. Now I shave it from time to time and not let it grow over five centimeters. And now I also perfectly know why: When a friend of mine asked me why I have short hair, I realized that I feel more beautiful when I don't have the typical feminine thing which is considered to be the most beautiful part of a woman. I feel less vulnerable as a woman since I don't meet men's requirements. I don't bother to think what people think about me – whether I am a lesbian or a feminist (which I am truly) or a buddhist nun or if I am after chemo.

I love being short-haired and it has nothing to do with the comfort not to have a comb in my bathroom.