SPEECHLESS

You know that words have always been my thing. Although one of our university professors once told us that, as students of literature, we should never be left speechless, it happens to me quite often. A love song. A good book. Pumpkin soup. The smell of coffee. A beautiful piece of clothing. A soft sweater. Early mornings. A busy street in a foreign city. An empty beach. Tulips and peonies. A new lipstick. White sheets. A mother of three, who is also an entrepreneur, a fitness guru and a great cook. See, the simplest, everyday things and random people can leave me speechless and move me so deeply that I instinctively pause my life and start searching for words in order to describe what it’s like to be left speechless. And it’s the best thing. It’s my thing.

A few years ago my life took an unexpected turn and deprived me of everything I had and believed in. I had to literally learn how to live again, find out who I was, where I wanted to be, what was my favourite colour and whether I liked my coffee strong. I was isolated and alone, spending my days and nights online, just numbing my brain, when one day I discovered the great world of blogs. Random people writing about random things with such enthusiasm left me in awe and I was hooked up before I knew it. Every day I would turn to them for my daily dose of motivation to get up in the morning, make my bed, put on a dress instead of sweatpants, eat from a plate instead of a box, read books instead of news, listen instead of talk, believe instead of doubt. It took me a lot of time, a lot of blog posts and many other techniques which I will definitely share in one of my future posts, to start feeling normal again. Somewhere around that time, I decided I wanted to start my own blog and use it as a platform to share my thoughts with the world, my amazement with the simplest things. And I knew that when I finally find words to describe everything that leaves me speechless, it would be a sign I was born again. It took me years, numerous sleepless nights and a lot of soul-searching, but here I am. Born again.

Bisous, Fée


Vi znate da ja volim pisati i da mi riječi dolaze prirodno. Sjecam se jednog naseg sveucilisnog profesora koji je rekao da si mi, studenti knjizevnosti, ne smijemo nikada dopustiti da nam ponestane rijeci. Unatoc tome, meni se to cesto dogadja. Ljubavna pjesma. Dobra knjiga. Juha od bundeve. Miris kave. Lijepi komad odjece. Mekana vesta. Rana jutra. Guzva na ulici nepoznatog grada. Usamljena plaza. Tulipani i bozuri. Novi ruz. Bijela posteljina. Majka troje djece, koja je ujedno i poduzetnica, fitness guru i odlicna kuharica. Takve jednostavne, svakodnevne stvari i obicni ljudi znaju me toliko dirnuti i oduseviti da instinktivno stavljam zivot na pauzu i trazim rijeci kojima bih opisala kako je to kad te nesto ostavi bez njih.  A to je tako divno. To je tako moje.

Prije nekoliko se godina moj zivot okrenuo naglavce i preko noci sam ostala bez svega sto sam imala i u sto sam vjerovala. Doslovno sam morala uciti zivjeti ispocetka, saznati tko sam, sto zelim, koja mi je omiljena boja i kakvu kavu pijem. Bila sam ostavljena, sama i izolirana od svih i svega. Dane sam provodila na internetu, guseci misli i osjecaje, sve dok nisam otkrila cudesan svijet blogova. U trenu sam se zaljubila u ljude koji su s nevjerojatnim entuzijazmom pisali o sasvim obicnim stvarima. Svaki sam dan u njima trazila motiv da ustanem, zategnem plahte, odjenem haljinu, a ne trenirku, jedem iz tanjura, a ne iz kartonske kutije, citam knjige, a ne vijesti, slusam, a ne govorim i vjerujem, a ne sumnjam. Trebalo je mnogo vremena, tekstova i ostalih tehnika o kojima cu govoriti u jednom od sljedecih postova, da bih se pocela osjecati normalno. Negdje u to vrijeme odlucila sam da cu jednog dana pisati blog i dijeliti svoje misli sa svijetom. Vec tada sam znala da ce, kad jednog dana konacno nadjem rijeci kojima cu opisati sve ono sto me ostavlja bez njih, to biti znak da sam ponovno rodjena. Iza mene su godine, brojne neprospavane noci i mnogo preispitivanja, ali tu sam. Ponovno rodjena.

Bisous, Fée

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