Oceanic letter

Dear Rebekka Averbach,

I decided to write you a blog letter.
Been listening to this song and somehow it reminded me of you - not that this girl is like you or anything, on the contrary - she's calm and singing so gladly, maturely, surely not a teenager.

Well, Rebekka, more than five years ago there was this girl believing in the dreams of Teddy (you remember him, don't you), diaries of Che Guevara and writing letters to some Czech authors; travelling all around and looking for the place to dwell...

Now this girl has found some Australian or maybe New Zealandian anonymous poet Alabama Otis and she is reading all she has ever written. It is weird to name the Australian girl Alabama, isn't it? Who knows probably there are many Alabama state lovers in New Zealand too. So weird but fact is that there she is, this Alabama Otis writing down all that happens around her, she writes down the dialogues between her and her husband, she writes down the words she hears in the street or while she rides a bike and hears the wind whispering through her hair.

Do you also go and keep the diary about what people say? Do you go and collect emotions that people lose here and there?

No, I don't. I think nobody really does except Alabama Otis. She's been living in this little town near the ocean. It is Summer beginning in Australia and New Zealand now. And she loves Summer, because it is the time when people keep spreading their emotions, take off the clothes they don't need anymore and become lighthearted like birds.
And mostly it is not even about clothes or emotions, it is all about our attitudes. Anyways, we all know it is all in our heads.
Don't we, Rebekka?

Whatever you might be doing in your little German city and no matter how far you might be from Alabama Otis and her warm oceanic home, remember to be free and sweet, ok? Not that sugar-honey-oversweetened but the sweet like natural fruits can be, having sparkles in your eyes and ride your bike with your hair loose on your shoulders and letting the wind to curl it up even more.
Summer will be back from Australia soon.

...

Berlin - Haus ohne Hüter?

Days are so long in May or it just seems to me because I want May to be over as soon as it could be. It's just 00:00 uhr and I feel like I've been living today's day forever. I wanted it to finish and now it's gone. I've witnessed one more 9th of May becoming part of the world history.
Do I represent a tiny bit of history too?
I am living it in Berlin and dreaming of its bohemian life in the mid 50's when the youth rebelled and Heinrich Böll published his "Haus ohne Hüter". And even then you could eat most delicious brown Brot with sunflower and sesame seeds, butter on it.

Can't write anything lately. I haven't written anything except my blogposts and pocket diary. Either I am too busy or too concentrated on what is going on in my life. Or both plus millions of other things that keep me away from literature. I have heard so much complains from the writers who are afraid to confess they have actually failed. What if I am also a failure writer? I have not written anything interesting since last year I guess.

I went for a walk today and visited couple of book-stores trying to find something new to read. I feel such cultural thirst cannot even explain. I need literature so badly. I need to read and write, to be inspired and feel that I can express myself on paper (not literally nowadays). Did not find anything though and decided first I should try to write and then read new books if I find anything amusing and worth while.

I have all I need though.
I really do.
All I need.

A Writer

I've been trying to write a book since I was kid.
When I finished high school, I told my mum I did not want to go to university, but sit home and write a book. She looked at me puzzled then. What kind of book could a 17 years old girl write?
I did take a break after school, but did not write a book.
Yes, I have written some poems, novels, even published them somewhere, but it did not make me a writer.

Three years later I went to university, faculty of social and political sciences. This year majored in Journalism and minored in Psychology. During these 4 years I've been writing lots of things, made a blog and all, but still haven't got a book.

Now I am a big girl, 25 under my belt.
Isn't a time to write that precious book I've always wanted?

But when I look at my blog (especially georgian one), I see that half of my book is written there and all I have to do is to copy and correct a little. So I hope that I'll start writing my very book soon. Can't wait.

And then I could freely say - I am a writer (no-one will be able to give me a puzzled look saying: what kind of job is that?)