“Something.” in my language

Aš leisiu man pakirpti sparnus,

Kad galėtum pakilti aukščiau.

Aš rankų nerodysiu saulei,

Tik slėpsiu jas tamsoje.

Aš noriu tik gero,

To šildančio jausmo.

Aš mirties tik nenoriu,

Nenoriu priimti to jausmo, kurio tau reikės.

Juk sakiau, kad sugersiu aš ugnį,

O tada išgarinsiu mus supantį vandenyną.

Padarysiu aš kelią prieinamą visiems…


A song that inspired me to write this: https://youtu.be/Gv6TDGpKmxI


One lovely touch…

I remember when my mom used to brush my hair every night before sleep. She always would tell a story, but every night different and new. For a long time, I thought that these stories were from books. I was wrong so wrong, all these stories were her’s. It’s sad because I found that it was her’s when I have grown bigger and tried to find them, but in the end, there was no result. I cried a lot, it was like a memory block or something because I couldn’t remember any of my mom told tales, stories, anything. It disappeared… At that moment I thought that I will never get the chance to feel those warm words wrapping me up.

One day I started to dream. to dream again. It was like a miracle because I didn’t dream for a long time. And that dream was one of the many stories my mom told me and I really want to share these stories with you. So will you listen?




Hi there ^^! So this is like a prolog to my (I don’t really know how to call it 😀 hehe) new series maybe?? okay whatever 😀 so yeah, actually I don’t remember what kind of stories my mom told me when I was a kid, but mostly I think it were from books. I will post my own stories I told to my little sister and the night sky when I felt inspired and yeah, so enjoy!

Love and appreciate everyone who reads my “Something” ^^!

P.s. If you see any mistakes, I’m sorry because I’m not good in English 😀



Let’s write a story

Where won’t be no glory

No love, no praise, no worries

Where mind can’t kill

Can’t slaughter, can’t make it painful

Where dream and reality have no lines

No walls, no distances, no lost roads

And maybe you can choose the end

The last sentence, the last word…

So can we start?



I became the sky you dreamed of

I became the road you walked on

I became the warmth you sought for

I became the air you breathed of

I became the rain you craved of

Just to be with you, just to please you…

There are so many different mirrors of you

I can’t seem to find which one is the real you…


So I asked myself again

If I feel okay?

And you know what I answered?


I just didn’t answer at all

And you know why?

Because the answer was here

All along…



I became nothing

I was so caught up with this idea

That I am something

Something unique, something good enough, something to be proud of

I was wrong, wrong                       again….

And still, I kept doing everything I can that will prove my mistake

But no, all I needed all along was just

Being left alone


I became nothing






She kills because she needs to. The killings are her expression of art. She doesn’t think that anybody can understand her because the way she kills is the way she lives…

It started on January 15th. Her first kill. There was no screams, no blood, just she and her art. She took a blue pill, the only thing she takes nowadays. All the things, all the memories of past fade away.

And now she is ALIVE.

To be continued…

P.s. sorry for mistakes I’m not good in English.