Nursedoom Momoko

..What an odd room.. Diamond shaped, six windows make a shimmering circle, drowned in street light -- a glowing angel perched on the windowsill. There's a Persian rug, a vase of bohemian crystal, an open book, an old rotary phone..usual nick-knacks in usual places, yet..I move about the space, touch the porcelain chess figures on the table..check, count eight green goblets behind the glass...check.., pass by a large leaning mirror and..check mate. A photograph, tucked under a frame, on an angle. I know her.. Know why angels rest on her windowsills. She's asleep in her bed two doors down the hall, beautiful as always, she's one of them. I sit on the edge for a minute then go, taking her picture with me, leaving the window open, leaving sleepy angels and cooing pigeons to themselves. This place feels like a musty attic at times..a grand one, but still..I wonder how far I can go if I leave it..Not far, alas..I will always come back here, even when I don't belong anymore, I'll still wander these streets and look into midnight kitchens with their tea and their quiet talk and nothing else will matter.

Lost Admiral

Something so sad about a lost statue..should have made it back before morning sun :)..

time travel, chapter 1

Its been raining all day, the kind of early fall city rain that brings comfort of crowded cafes, glistening wet pavement and soft swishing of taxis going by. It always rains for hours on end here..I pretend to be rushing off to someplace important, when I really just want to hide under my umbrella and jump over puddles and peek in the store windows. Rain over gray water, shiny black horses on the bridge froze in full gallop, tamed. Pretty soon gray will turn dark, and I'll be free again. Free to cross the threshold, alone and invisible, free to fly over moon-lit rooftops..The city is mine for the taking. I'm blessed ! Margot made a pact with the devil, I -- just went to sleep..Gust of wind blows the window open, flying white curtains like white flags, surrender..I'm free-falling, gliding, floating on air. The city lies below, an open map, treasures sparkling, scattered at my feet. Over wrought iron gates, over Summer Garden of Gods. Its dead, abandoned by time itself, its fake statues-- pale white ghosts, century old oaks, whispering words of warning, leave at once.. On to the old quarters..Nod to caryatids under a crumbly old balcony. I step inside and take a look around a dark room..

Farewell..and hello

I think I'm done digging up skeletons in my closet. Done with dusting them off and putting them on display in most unlikely places, anyway... I've "met" fascinating all of you, lived a bit of your lives (tried to), gained some and lost some. Namely lost a knack for writing as if no one's reading, the quiet monologue in a dark room. This space as I know it is now defunct, it has become a reality, and I already have one of those..so I'm letting go. I find great comfort in silliest things, in being an intensely introverted exhibitionist. Now Parallel Universe is taking over..:) This portal is its gait. I regress to no inhibitions, no timetables, no reasons, just dreams..unexpurgated, pure, deviant, simple. What will follow won't make much sense, though it'll be in English as I like to distance myself from my writing (writing being a very loose term here..). It'll be strange and imperfect as my English goes..it'll have a thick accent and won't go with anything. I close my eyes at the end of the day and enter a wonderfully familiar world I've escaped to since I could dream. Fallen angels, hidden pathways, riddles, peep holes and trix..here's one -- first open door is a window. One, two, three...jump !!!!!!!!

SPB, Beautful stranger

Random shot of a random girl..a day in a life in a paralell universe

Bye

An old friend moving out of state. Not that we were all that close, but we shared some fun moments and a love for Chicago and dusty BG tunes. I'll miss this kitchen, miss being able to sing along, just plain miss him, someone who knew me way back when.., another missing link now..

Katherine

Thanks !

Darkness is upon me

I feel terribly violated, this, however, is home to my unrest, I will not abandon it, I will not bury it in cyber dust, I will not be reduced to spelling out my intentions, desecrating my bleeding soul, no one owns me. NO regrets.

Old Montreal, wanna go there

Fall.

Fall is here and I'm restless..I want to go places, want to stare out the train window on a long jorney, want that buzz I always get at the airport, butterflies in my stomach, anticipation, that special loneliness in a crowd I'm so used to, good book in route, small comforts of traveler on no mission but to keep going.
Bring. on. the. rain..

Karl Lagerfeld

Something about him, so magnetic..can't put my finger on it, but I love it

a rabbit hole

I'm slipping into this semi-comatose blah again..career plans on hold till daycare plans take shape..Disappointments abound. I'm mildly annoyed with most everyone in my life now, its heartbreaking to come to terms with not having any real friends..time and distance took away the ones I had, the others -- oh, who knows why..Now the better I do, the louder the silence, I've surrounded myself with people that can't help but watch, only they're watching to see me fall..And fall I will, my senses are shut, I can't tell who's who anymore and I don't trust newcomers..I'm tired of users, losers, I refuse to form meaningless relationships just because, this is garbage..One sick fuck in your life and its a downward spiral for years. Its not HIS fault, its mine, for needing sick fucks in the first place, and then for letting them define me, I am selfless indeed, I shall morph into something of substance for once, but that scares me..definition is death, no, no principles here, I want to escape instead, I would drink this anxiety away if I could..I feel so empty I could float away to my very own neverland just..about..now. I think I will. Plenty of pictures for me to hide in, in my perfect ghost town, in my perfect world.

The Wall, SPB

Its Britney Biatch !!!

OK, I don't know WHY, I just like the girl :)..She's a pistol, she could have been soooo back, but she sucked..No bringing sexy back, not this time :)

a ghost tram, SPB

Heraldic SPB

Ste-Geneviève-des-Bois

Amazing photo tour of the famous Parisian cemetery, a final resting place for many Russian royalty and "boheme" in exile..I never made it there while in France, so this is the next best thing..

random

A few little disappointments, a few high hopes, a day gone by. The most futile search is that for truth, especially to those who can't handle much of it. I'm glad it isn't me this time. Just selfishly gleefully slap happy not to be burdened by such crap. Life is inexplicably good when you realize you can keep both feet firmly on the ground while your head's way up in the sky. Discoveries of the day:
1. I can bullshit my way through anything.
2. I have a lot of bullshitting to do..

Tavrichesky English Garden

Every corner there I know by heart..almost drowned in that pond too. Magical place, my mistery garden.

St Mark's Square, Venice

Never ever wave bread crumbs in front of an army of street smart pigeons if you're not wearing long sleeves and a hat. It only looks like fun, I had scars for a week :)

To own beloved self

Mayakovsky, 1926. Larger than life, still.

Six.
Ponderous. The chimes of a clock.
“Render unto Caesar ... render unto God...”
But where’s
someone like me to dock?
Where’11 I find a lair?

Were I
like the ocean of oceans little,
on the tiptoes of waves I’d rise,
I’d strain, a tide, to caress the moon.
Where to find someone to love
of my size,
the sky too small for her to fit in?

Were I poor
as a multimillionaire,
it’d still be tough.
What’s money for the soul? –
thief insatiable.
The gold
of all the Californias isn’t enough
for my desires’ riotous horde.

I wish I were tongue-tied,
like Dante or Petrarch,
able to fire a woman’s heart,
reduce it to ashes with verse-filled pages!
My words
and my love
form a triumphal arch:
through it, in all their splendour,
leaving no trace, will pass
the inamoratas of all the ages!

Were I
as quiet as thunder,
how I’d wail and whine!
One groan of mine
would start the world’s crumbling cloister shivering.
And if
I’d end up by roaring
with all of its power of lungs and more –
the comets, distressed, would wring their hands
and from the sky’s roof
leap in a fever.

If I were dim as the sun,
night I’d drill
with the rays of my eyes,
and also
all by my lonesome,
radiant self
build up the earth’s shriveled bosom.

On I’ll pass,
dragging my huge love behind me.
On what
feverish night, deliria-ridden,
by what Goliaths was I begot –
I, so big
and by no one needed?

Window, SPB

posted by storcys

SPB, bits and pieces