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Category: Bona Journal
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January 2024
Sometimes you feel so incredibly lonely — even among people — that I’ve learned how to comfortably settle into this — perhaps — selfish practice of “adoring” myself. I feel best away from the crowd. Arrogantly, I listen to what they say without any desire to understand. I need… myself. I miss myself terribly. I lost myself over the years trying to please others. My body sends signals. Strange “adhesions, cysts, and other polyps” appear inside me. I lose consciousness, collapsing to the floor. The buildup of years of stress and probably apathy surfaces.
I confide in the one who smells like hay. She saves me bravely and continuously. Thanks to her, I exist. The most wonderful nonverbal communication I’ve ever experienced. From the outside, it might look like pitiful attempts to grasp riding skills. It’s not about that at all. Not at all. Let them not understand — I don’t care.
I’m waiting for results. I already know it’s “vascular changes.” The girl in black socks and shiny sequin-covered boots looks at me with tired eyes. She doesn’t care about me. Like I don’t exist. A million thoughts run through my head: “what if…” She looks at me questioningly. I swear. I just had a thought — when I die — I absolutely have to tell my Favorite Person — to fold my hands in the international gesture of greeting. Sounds nicer in English. Okay, just kidding.
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December 2023
I’m alive. Still. I watch as the Guy With Bed-Head Yells at me. I try to find a comeback to his rude behavior, but all I can think about is the all-encompassing disgust for people like HIM — stupid “compatriots,” constantly stirring up that damn poison of crudeness.
He, as if reading my mind: “Don’t give me those surprised eyes,” he yells. Indeed — rudeness surprises me often, but I consistently find it hard to believe in its vastness, its variations — its ugliness! One damn guy managed to embody every trait I can’t stand in people. Truly impressive. Well — orders and lack of respect have never motivated me. Hidden complexes masked by false power always made me laugh. A masterful “leader.” Good one. -
may 23, 2023
Between the ears,” reality somehow looks different — especially when they’re alive and responding to everything around. I never imagined they could shift perspective like that. Brilliant.
Good morning — I have an observation I just have to share.
I wonder if there’s something “in between.”
See, when I’m assertive and clearly express my position — I’m “unpleasant,” to put it mildly.
But when I’m kind — I suddenly come off as “silly.”
Hm… No wonder I feel closer to animals.
Just one of those “straight from life” things — I had to share :) -
may 22, 2023
Sometimes I think that this fragrant fur could shield me from all the shallowness and ugliness of the world.
Sometimes it feels like all I need to do is bury my overly long nose into — especially in spring — those prickly little hairs that sneak into every thread of fabric, no matter how lovely it is, and all the spit-up trash just vanishes.
Stable trash. Polish trash.
Sometimes I honestly can’t believe that people willingly give up all the richness of nature for the sake of promised usefulness — once they’ve gained enough “followers.”
Am I a hypocrite? After all, I’m writing this for a reason too, aren’t I?
I know that sometimes it only takes a split second to decide whether to try to exist — or not to.That’s what all of this is about — about freedom, a helping gesture, and sometimes… “I didn’t make it in time.”
This morning I was woken by a kind of unease I hadn’t felt in a long while. At three a.m.
I’d forgotten what that kind of “wake-up call” feels like.
I read messages from a dear friend — someone didn’t make it.
Someone else made a different decision in a split second, and there was no more time to react.
And that convinced me I have to do something about it.
I have to — because I made a different decision.
Maybe someone will read this, or listen, or nudge their nose in.
I have to — because it was terrifyingly indifferent. Cruelly lonely. Fucking awful.After that, all I remember is my plushy fur, smelling like a pastoral mix of hay and ammonia —
cleansing not just the upper airways but also mercilessly wrapping around my head,
soberly reminding me that it’s worth it.
For some reason.
Bona Equine is a brand born from a truly rediscovered love for life and an extraordinary fascination with nature.
And Bona herself is the Plush Professor who reminded me that life is worth celebrating.
Again and again, over and over. -
May 2023
I think the demons have come back. I can’t sleep, though I wouldn’t get out of bed, trying to catch up on sleep during the day. At night, they crawl out, slip free — determined — to defeat me. I clench my hands like I’m getting ready for the ring, unconsciously. My fingers go numb, tingle. My teeth ache terribly from grinding my jaw. My whole face feels glued shut. At night, I hear the steady beating of my own heart. It keeps working, as if nothing’s wrong, as if it’s trying to tell me: hang on, things are better now, hang on…
I wonder what it would be like to not hear that pumping blood anymore. I can’t eat. Yesterday my dad said to me: “You’re making a martyr of yourself,” and I’m just gathering strength. To wash my hair. -
March 2023
Travel helps restore peace to my mind. When I think about people living differently, far away, I stop thinking about myself in context.
Miraculous Vietnam. Friendly, “delicious” locals draw you into their divine, almost entirely green cuisine.
Although the all-consuming smog tightens around the head so intensely it drains you completely.
There’s no telling where the boundary lies.A stunning structure made of traditional red lanterns at the bottom gives no hint of the styrofoam disaster awaiting at the top of the mountain, reached by cable car.
Such a brilliant contrast – just like in my head.
I think I’m starting to heal. -
March 2021
In the eyes of Szymon — a boy being called by a girl walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street — I saw my own emotions.
The ones from the time when I was in love.
And I felt longing. -
November 2020
The worst is when the Demons take over your mind. You sort of know it’s happening, you sort of want to fight it – for the sake of your child, for others… But deep down, all you really think about is letting it all go. Giving up. Resting. Not having to feel, not having to think. Not clenching your teeth, which have been aching since dawn from the constant tension in your jaw. I’m not myself. I can’t control my emotions – swinging between aggression and tears, which endlessly lick my face like they’re a being entirely separate from me. I have no control. Not over this, not over myself, not over anything. I don’t know how to take care of my mind anymore, because this is no longer me. The biochemical shifts in my brain have taken over, swallowed me whole. I’m drowning in this fucking numbness I’ll probably never get out of. I want to scream for help without a sound. Can anyone hear me?! I doubt it. All I hear is: “You bring these problems on yourself.” Maybe they’re right.
Honestly, I don’t know what’s worse – “The Man Who Left” during the hardest moment of my life, when I needed his scent more than anything, or me, slowly giving in, accepting whatever life throws at me: financial mess, the looming fear of a terrifying illness. “You’re great, but it’s also great without you.” Am I really that hopeless?! Probably. I’ve always felt like I don’t belong in this world. A world full of excess, illusion, and lies. Narcissistic arrogance. All that glitter for show – everything, and yet nothing that truly matters. I fell for the bait of attention. Me and my blind soul. Too bad the illness didn’t give a shit about my blindness. Fuck it.
I claw my way back up only to crash back into the shit again. Sometimes from high up – and they say: “Your energy and constant cheerfulness are impossible not to love.” Cute. Fucking great. Inside, it’s a total shitshow. Only I know it. And the doctor, who tries to save me with prescribed pills so I don’t hurt myself: “Please eat, for your brain.” I don’t want to eat. I just want to sleep. I can’t tell anyone. I whisper to my Beloved Furball: “Help me, help me survive! I think I want to live.” Bullshit. The only thing on my mind is how to disappear. But I can’t tell anyone. They’ll say I’m wallowing – because of the money problems, because of the maybe-real cancer, because someone who meant more to me than I wanted to admit left. Fuuuck-this-shit.