Part 17 Dark Reflections

Dark Reflections

8th August 1993

Lucky escape

Sounds of nature,

strange thoughts invading my mind,

wind squealing, trees crying,

emanating strange sounds.

A beautiful boring summer day drawing to an end.

Thunderbolts and lightening?

Thoughts on the loop,

your radiance,

pain, trees crying again,

soon the rein of ordinary days,

relief and happiness,

questions and answers,

connection and disconnect,

no common language,

faces melting and freezing,

lies and cowardliness,

no happy ending,

lucky escape,

no substitute,

solution out of necessity,


true colours,

hate and loathing,

brilliant shine turning dull,

dark and indifferent,

time to look away.

12th August 1993

My “Daddy”

Blood red dusk,

music blasting,

his head screaming,

angry and confusing,

stolen thoughts,


I am mute,

deal with it,

stick with it,

and endure it,

till one day,

I will be gone.

27th August 1993

I am definitely cured from Rocky now! What was I thinking? I am thanking my lucky stars for this outcome, and I can’t wait to see you, Lokie!

28th August 1993

I have been feeling quite down lately. I seek solitude, so I can think and contemplate without intrusion. I am at a strange point in my life, in between of sorts. Every new morning seems beautiful, exciting, full of opportunities and promises, but as the day goes on, it starts to drag, and dims my energy.

Every morning I am so sure of my purpose in life, come evening, I do not feel so sure, I get disappointed, that those exciting feelings and thirst for life turn into nothing.

The first time I felt truly alive was in seventh and eighth grade. New friendships, discovery of music, alcohol, and troubles at home intensified. Then new school, spending every weekend at Grandma’s house. New friends, village gigs, boys, falling in love…

And then last summer, falling and almost reaching rock bottom, suddenly homeless, forming group with similar afflicted teenagers. I met all kinds of people at that time, and learned that everyone cared the most about themselves. I learned how to get food, money, clothes, cigarettes and alcohol. When our little “family” had all of that, we were happy, but even then, everyone always tried to get the best piece for themselves. And when we didn’t have those things, it wasn’t that much fun anymore. I didn’t think ahead, only lived one day at a time.

I learned that the strongest survive, those who know how to fight. Life also gave me a lesson not to trust anyone, and that running away doesn’t solve anything. Then back to a different reality, disappointment, misunderstanding, police, psychologists, home, school.

And it was my art school, that helped me to get over most of it in the end. Feeling like an alien, that landed on a different planet. Me – street wise amongst kids so innocent, whose hobbies included collecting stickers, and looking after pets. Kids, that had no idea, what is happening in the real world.

But they helped me, I fed on their happy go lucky, carefree energy. The storm is over, the arguments at home rare their ugly heads every now and again. It gets really ugly, and those are the times, when I know I am not loved or wanted.

They criticise, threaten and put me down constantly. They break my spirit. They want me to give up and fail, so they can say: “Look, we loved her so much, we gave her everything, we paid for her education, and she didn’t appreciate it. She threw away the chance to became a decent citizen with a good job!”

And people will believe them. I will crash down to the rock bottom, and stay in the darkest place, I have only glimpsed before. I know it could get worse, much worse then what I have experienced so far.

I remember this time last year, they totally destroyed me the night before the first day in the new school, and I am worried, it might happen again. Life is not easy, it can be beautiful sometimes, but there is more sadness.

30th August 1993

I am excited and scared at the same time, I just want to get rid off this darkness, that’s following me. Two more days and I will finally see you again, Lokie! Two months passed quicker, than I thought. Maybe it’s better, that we didn’t see each other so long. At least I know to whom I can write all this, all my thoughts and emotions. Actually no, I would never want anyone to read this. One day I will burn this journal, it’s very dangerous to write everything down.

1st September 1993

I feel like you would laugh at me, Lokie. What I am thinking and writing, all this nonsense spilled on these pages. It’s a horrible feeling, when you don’t know where you stand.

I didn’t even dare to look at you today, because if I did, I would blush for sure, and I would not survive that! It was more than enough to be in your presence, and feel your stares.  Am I stupid?

I know we are not going to talk for a while yet, it depends who will break that wall, that grew between us, first. I know it is my turn, but I am unable to do that, I’d rather wait.

I think, that you are not that interested in me, I am so unsure of myself, and so naive in matters of love. I dream and idealize, I know, I am to blame, blame my own stupidity.

But there is still hope, we will see how it will all pan out, today was just a first day back!

Photo by Gia.


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About giasuniverse

I am compelled to create, I now realize that this is a gift from God, I want to make him happy by sharing it with others. My aim is to bring enjoyment to people, and help in any way I can. I wish to know and do many things. Some of them I do and others I do in my imaginary life. A life long learner, a truth seeker, a philosopher, a dreamer, an adventurer, an artist, and a writer on this wonderful journey called life.

6 responses to “Part 17 Dark Reflections”

  1. bdlheart says :

    Wow Gia! You too seem to have reached inside my mind, pulled out some dark corners, and wrote them down. “Questions and answers/ Connections and disconnect/No common language.” This is how I have felt with my mom. She doesn’t know me down deep and she doesn’t have the ability to because she too is broken. I almost hate to converse because it feels forced.


    • giasuniverse says :

      Yes, that’s my father (oh, why do I always cringe when I have to call him “my father”?) It is very very difficult to overcome this, because both parties are blinded and unable to find a common ground, we literally are speaking a different language both standing behind a wall of our own truth. I can’t talk to him at all, because even the most simple and innocent conversation turns into a full blown argument, where I feel attacked, disrespected and hurt. He would never admit that he did anything wrong and blames me or his mother. (with whom he was estranged for half of his life) My Grandmother was the unconditional love giver in my childhood. Deep down I know he is not a happy person he is very disappointed in his life (work), with serious difficulties with important females in his life-wife, mother, sister, daughter. I wish he got help, because I would forgive him, if he stopped attacking me and treating me at least politely, you know like a stranger! At this point we can’t help them if they are not willing, we can only protect ourselves and find a way to heal, and we will Bdlheart! xoxo

      Liked by 1 person

      • bdlheart says :

        You speak so much truth Gia and you write it beautifully! Ironically, I had a convo with my mom last night. Same scenario. She is bitter and unhappy. I too would welcome her back despite it all if she could see the truth and try to get help. Her attacks are subtle, but I pick up on it. I’m at a point where I want to be happy and she doesn’t want to jump in the car with me and travel the same road I’m taking. We will certainly heal Gia and break the cycle. I’ve decided it stops with this generation. No more. Hugs and happy Friday!


      • giasuniverse says :

        Thank you Bdlheart! Do you think your mom might get help one day? What a shame!There is nothing you can do, (apart from invitation) if the other person doesn’t want to “jump in the car with you and travel the same road”.
        You and me both, we pick up on stuff from them because we are so sensitized, I wish that all the stuff he does and says just didn’t affect me. Every time I went for a visit, I promised myself that I wouldn’t react, I don’t know how he does it, he always manages to poke the wound. Grrr.. Well done for taking a stand to make a change! I decided the same, but sometimes I get confused/unsure how to parent my kids-I end up being too soft and that’s not good either. But they are loved and know it, and that makes me so happy 🙂 Thanks again for your comments and words of wisdom, hugs right back at you! Have a great weekend. xoxo

        Liked by 1 person

      • bdlheart says :

        When I first worked with children in my early twenties I remember fearing that I was my mother somehow. Then, like you, I’d become a pushover. Eventually I learned to set limits with them. I was always terrified at the prospect of becoming a mother. Once again I feared I would be her. Yet, I’ve been told I’m great with kids. It is amazing how twisted our brains can get from the abuse. I think if your children feel loved you are doing a fantastic job. Love is honestly everything, I think, at the end of the day. I know what you mean about button pushing. Ugh. I can’t picture her getting help. Hopefully one day.


      • giasuniverse says :

        Thank you, Bdlheart! I am still trying to find a middle ground, when I can give them boundaries, and also love and all the care they need and deserve. I felt exactly the same…It’s difficult, when you never learned how it should be, you just know that you do not want to become like them, and so many times when I shouted at the kids or punished them (by sitting on a naughty step), or didn’t feel like I could give affection at the time, I was horrified that I was turning into him! And yes, yes, yes Love is the most important thing in the world 😀
        I can’t imagine it either -him getting help, but maybe one day, he would have to go through some profound awakening, I guess…Thanks for commenting Bdlheart, you always make me think certain issues through again, or bring my attention to something that is obvious, but not consciously realized, and just sharing this similar experience with you, makes me feel not so alone. xoxo

        Liked by 2 people

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