Turtles and guns

A turtle is too slow for a gun!

In another conditions I should pay author rights for the person who said that to me the last days. External conditions prevent me to do that.

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The Butterfly Effect

Etichete

Archie, butterfly effect, butterfly in the stomach, mystery

And now I mean, the REAL butterfly effect, the one that you feel in your stomach when you fall in love, and nothing compares to it (like in the Sinead O’Connor long fogotten song)?!

And on the other hand, ‘m talking about „the” butterfly effect, the one that says: Change one thing and it changes everything!

Well, I suppose he’she’s right. Change the tinies thing in your life, and just like in a sand castle, everything wll fall apart and turn around at 180 degrees, not knowing where to start in order to win again your stability.

So, A girl cannot grow up until she looses a Dad or an Archie. Oh, right, I already lost my „Archie”. This means I grew up? or I shall…?

What if you loose more „Archies” than you intended to? Is this part of our daily life or just a simple mystery like many many others until now in my life.

Maybe the next Archie in my life will let me know the answer to this rhetorical question. Until then, HAPPY HUNTING!

I decided to talk about the „C” word

I decided to talk about the C word. C from Cancer, C from Chimiotherapy.

Ladies and gentleman, you have in front of your screens a woman who succeeded, yes, she succeeded to get away, to reborn, to rehope.

And for this, congratulations to me.

I saw last days a movie, with a womain who passes through all this and the tragicomedy in her life. It’s hard to keep the head up and the smile on your lips when you don’t turn the heads after you anymore because you know that your aspect is somehow like of a zombie.

More hair you loose, the shorter your skirt gets. So fucking true! yet, how many of us have had the courage to do that, how many of us could just throw away what the others whisper about when you pass near them eyelash free, eyebrow free, hair free?

The pain of a chimioterapy cannot be replaced by nothing else but the pleasure to feel for maybe the last time the woman desired by many, and that short skirt is the only weapon you can have.

I seat with a JD in my hand, no ice of course and I celebrate 3 entire years since „the moment”. What other perfect way to celebrate this that the sweet revenge of that burning noble taste on your throat.

Cheers to me, Babe!