nevver:

1. leave the english accents to the english
2. alcohol is a depressant
3. if you are 25, you are too old to start ballet

Itchy Banquet

Love is honesty. Honesty = Hate. The only difference makes the ‘h’. You can hear it, saying ‘Hate’, but not with ‘honesty’. Because hate grows stronger, almost always…if actually honesty should be appreciated. To us women, you men can’t say a thing like ’ why do you use such a big portion of foundation, why do you refresh your make-up, why you don’t want to stay natural?’. You can’t do this without the chance that we will hate you. Even if you love/d me a tiny, tiny bit, you said this. Bhamm. You broke the little glass sphere of hope, that meant to me, that you like me as I am, and because you are somehow close to me, don’t ask, why, I hoped, that you don’t even realize, that I wear make-up at all. Okay. I am and was always so naive.

This story came in my memory again, as some almost stranger said the day before something like this, but I realized, that I don’t care. I only care, if You say things, which hurt, if You are the one who is honest, if you are the one I can hate. Growing older means getting capable of seeing through our own self much better than before. This happens to me, and I hope, that you read this one day, because you will know, who is this ‘you’, if you are the you.

I think, love begins with things like this. You (not ‘you’, but someone like me) sit on your sofa, and you want to hate the man who knows that you aren’t perfect. You care so much about his opinion but you can’t hate him. You don’t even try to Really hate. Because a loved one’s honesty is the strongest thing, the most changing force, the most huge motivation ever.

If a stranger hurts your comfort zone, you can hate him a bit, and after it you eat a slice of chocolate and a nice big ripe orange and you look at all the things you like and have, and you don’t think of the situation anymore. This happened now. Over. Smile.

If somebody important gets too intimate with his opinion, you begin to work with this input, you get closer to yourself. You want to be perfect even without too much make-up. In this case, honesty is as precious as love.

This happened months before, one day after my b-day. I still wear make-up. I am not perfect yet. But I always do my to-dos much efficient, I always take my dance classes with more ‘soul power’ if I think of the fact, that he believes in the thing I try to do, when I am not in the capital city. I don’t even know him good enough. We haven’t got a thing together, nothing for the paparazzos. I don’t love noone. Look at Chris Isaaks ‘Wicked Game’: ‘…nobody loves noone’. There is a lie in this song, uups we found the lie. Oh. Ahm. Sorry. :)

I don’t wanna tell more about this, because 1. there is nothing to tell, 2. I still hope, that he won’t read this. 

But I was in the need of telling this about love, hate and honesty with my bad english.

liebe Grüße aus Ungarn, Budapest

best regards from Budapest, Hungary