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Cruising The Easter

March 22, 2013



                        C R U I S I N G    T H E    E A S T E R



                                                 2 0 1 3








                                           T h o u g h t s




























Not knowing what’s next is an anxious feeling.

To try to write about future is not splendidly. If I write about past, the future is in the sentences, it appears here and there, from place to place.

There are some issues to write about:  some details in my relationships and one detail about the future that is the most important in this moment. 


I could write a lot about real life of mine. The life writes novels.  I could write about my husbands and children, about psychosis and war, but nobody want to be in my diaries and thoughts, I know that for sure.































Chapter one





There was a girl , young woman who was happy; she had and didn’t has much luck; that moth was curious and couldn’t see well. It liked to reach the trace of light with a certain sense that was something alike the sense of smell. She knew that she has found the answer only when it was too late to escape troubles. She knew that because she ran away out of troubles with a sweet taste of freedom, but she couldn’t see that is disturbed, she couldn’t see for a long, long time.

Moth had to go on every time when the troubles disturbed her. After a long time, she saw that she was persistent because of her blindness, but because the taste of relief of choking was the only light in her life in darkness.


She was never thinking about that feeling of choking. Maybe it was because she didn’t see well. Later in life, she developed a theory that it was some kind of pain that had to come to the end of the threshold of durability. It wasn’t about her or surroundings, it was the matter of time when she will brake down. But it was also a beginning of a new life, she get a gift of lightness and brightness.


Moth was very young when she nested. After the first nest was broken, it was easier to break every next one. Every time Moth was more and more exhausted and she saw less and less light. That made her more desperate. From every nest Moth took the gift.


The very first gift she got made her more careful, softer and vulnerable.












Moth felt freeze and she made the room very warm. She had to kneel, such pressure was in her body that she put the elbows on a floor and was in that position for some time. Pressure started to grow and she became blind. After some more, short time, the human came from her and she was very much brighten with light, then she relaxed. Bright light was around them, but the darkness appeared little by little and she happily concluded that she sees better then ever.

Her Sight didn’t cry a lot. He was very quiet and caught ice chest.


Moth tried for years to find a warm hug for Sight’s chest, but never succeeded completely. Sight was her dearest pleasure and a big obligation.

When he came back to himself, she saw that many years passed. They were never hot, but Moth has found in Sight’s words all the compensation. Thanks to the others, he is now, look at him, a very nice man.






Years before, Moth suddenly became blind for a while and something started to choke her and she could not help herself with Sight’s word, there were these little words. She took the Sight and ran straight away in the next nest, and then in the next because she was able to see again a little better and a new trace of light appeared there, waiting for her. Yes, but not for Sight.

A woman came from her body and she was once again brightened. Moth had to run and the three of them, Moth, Sight and Woman find a pretty good nest were they could stay together, with Moth’s darkness, Sight’s word and the silence of Woman.









Moth find big comfort, but  a disturbing was there, so stronger that she had to notice that she is looking at a bigger trace of light, but couldn’t run because Sight and Woman would be in danger. She was trying to get everything what they needed and more of herself, that smell of freedom. They all were disturbed and growing together. Around them was always the brightness.


Than the hunger was appearing and they took a friend into the nest. They were all hungry, but Moth was on the edge of breakdown.  The friend of  the nest was leaving and coming back into the nest. That brought a biggest darkness to Moth.





























Chapter two

“Walls on Hem

Ripe Apple was ready to burst if it falls from the rich tree.
Somewhere on the edge of the homeland that they intend to go, they said. The other announced that they will come because the sparks from the Heart had flowed so much that they were burning the torches, spraying around.


Night owls were deaf and weasels with the eyelids were blinking, jumped and sneaked unnoticed, the food there was not. The boars get hungry; and homeland, as she is; the sea white sharks pushed among themselves with empty jaws, one by one, fixed guns evading.

Give food, currency and weapons, the snake hissed, never slept on the rocks were, horses, gray and white, woven fabric, land registry, canvas oil, even after the last spoonful, was evident.

Those who went on the mountains equipped flew, and the others are also the bridge has to be there around the country equipped and stops arguments and decision-making, diplomacy wild on the stage stood, to the tables for a long, long sessions, rising telephone various pumpkins, and cones were reached, neither red nor blue, than with coal which was enough for the winter.


At these edges the hem of one country foundation walls repaired joint souls mooing cow and rooster crow refused to unite and rosary blessed by a warm stone in the ground and stuck fast increase. Wolves fell silent.

Pumpkins and warriors because they were louder while the cones began to throw open the seeds on the ground, at sea and on the air, what on the links were silently shouting the loudest.

Took the gun homeland horrible hurtful to see through space and time, and since they made a Kaleidoscope , boyish hands, disco music in the old war folk turns.”





Penned in the middle of her choking and war, Moth started to fight.

She was careful with Sight and Woman, but when the friend encountered, she was accusing and yelling and asking the questions, many questions without the answer.

Disgusting Killer Laugh was the only reaction.

Links were bringing new and new questions.

Laugh appeared and disappeared.

Moth was falling from the yelling into the whispering, and raising from whispering to yelling, she was on the exploring flight, searching the trace of light so they all together could escape the darkness that was in her and all around. 







“Pumpkin and long tables were in vain, culture Northerly blowing, but  south brought sharks,  waves washed the sharks over with their foam that grow. After even harder, I could see, the blind wind shook the hurricane that rages across the continents because they raised the oceans, glaciers slowed down.

Boars were swallow dissolved cones and seeds deeply submerged and bloody, in the ground put deep, deep as the foundation walls to hem, why, why and why …?

Because there is a legend since ancient times:

       One carpenter built the furniture and always had a warm airy tree, and his beds and tables were widely known, and that was a great divine, enemies had. One such was crazy from persecution, it hurt him later on, I could see, until he lay on the bed while the carpenter rested his horse, until it reaches the Father of carpenters never heard any voice is full of light, and that was not uneducated and stupid, right discerning their call, because else it couldn’t be, and completely stunned souls immediately cocooned from the world taking shape, curious love of family thought living long. Then he was inspired and went out into the world and start working airy tents and warm to cover the people who sat at the tables carpenter, he said:

     ‘… You are neither mine nor his but his servant… ‘

The boars said that they were not boars no carpenters or tentmakers but gods, think, and so many cones and pumpkins for food, how can I serve the food?

Sometimes myths legends, and sometimes anecdotes retell it.

Motherland fired with cones and fired with cannon kaleidoscope although pumpkin were shouting, and the spirit of the home sailed and cruised the oceans, hurricanes, glaciers sad and happy at the same time.

Mostly lifted a bit and weld hungry whites and those of food offered tremendous paused quietly devouring a bit too high.

Walls on the hem started to grow stone to stone to heaven, to the red pumpkin which also turned Northerly to the south, and the south still insisted, salt and salt come already started by continents, they said enough…!”






Laugh was gone.

Moth relaxed.





“The massacred were laid glorious, glorious carpenters

and  tentmakers deep under the walls where the rosaries were dead. Just some other cones and seeds stayed. Wolves cried shortly after again fell silent, was evident.

               Now the walls are a multitude of crowns in a stand of flowers, wreaths and candles and stones in the shape of a cross sea, which is constantly expanding waves that travel out of the country, patriotic spirit across the glacier.


They are building tenants and hire workers for his vineyard, and they’re tired so drinking the wine that gives vine vineyards that asks the servant, not the master, they talking. “







While Moth was in the darkness, she felt the well known pain in her self, with all disturbs of links and from crying and laughing and worries for Woman and Sight, she had to take her persistence.

Gift came, very big by all means.


Gift needed her strongest light, was very hungry, but all she could offer him were the darkness and trembling so Moth allowed to herself to break. She came at last to the end of the threshold of durability. The trace of light for Gift she found in the Laugh’s ignorance of the darkness that was everywhere and she took Woman and Sight back into the nest.




Many years the trace of light in her darkness didn’t appear, although these three were brightened again. Moth went out of the nest a little and later more and more. With the gifts’ brightness she was try to go on, persist, not to be hungry of anything  that she could take from the only trace of the trace of light, the freedom; but Woman and Sight were choking with her until the time came for her blindness: she, little by little, grabbed luck and became clairvoyant. In the same time she suddenly saw that there is not the trace of light because she could see well. There was no light, but there was no darkness either, Moth could see.



Gift came back.

They all started a new life. Moth decided to show to her gifts, if necessary, how her darkness was looked like and how to start raising up to the light of freedom.

After years, Sight, Woman, Gift and Moth were able enough for sharing themselves each other. It was the happy end.




















Chapter three


If you ask me where is here Moth and cruising, here it is.

This could be the fifth essay for my book of essays that I started when I was preparing for Lent.

The Eastern is here and I want to finish the book of my Lent for this year. 


This was my cruising, these essays, and what comes next I won’t tell you. The summer will come and many of us will start to cruise around.


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