Praleisti ir pereiti prie pagrindinio turinio
About myself,

This is the final thing I'm goint to writte today, so don't worry ^-^
I wanted to say a little about the person that you are reading the blogs of. So as you already know my name is Neringa. Neringa Vinikaitė. The reason I have this strange name is becouse I'm from Lithuania - the small but proud biggest blatic country. If you haven't already guessed I'm a patriot. Why? I don't really know myself. All I know is I love my country enouth to work and writte songs for it. Curently I'm in 12 grade - senjor year - que the exsams blog- I'm stresing out a bit becouse I want to get in the best university in Lithuania although I'm better at englist than lithuanian (the grammars kind of the same ;P) and I need the Lithuanian exsam to get in a funded place. I'm going to study Bio computer science and I figured that out just a few weeks ago. I was always drawn to music and theater though... oh well I guess these will remain as hobys :) I consider myself as a reched person, becouse of my poor comunication sckils and individualism, but I don't have anything against people. Well yes I have a lot of complaints aimed at mankind but in general I want to be accepted by people and help them, help the world. Well this is getting to long so a few more things :

  1. I will try to updare every day (hens the ”try”, I am a senjor)
  2. I would love to read some comments by you, get to know you better.
  3. I will answer any question, if you have any.
  4. And you can suggest themes of blogs you want to read (I'll writte about what ever you are interested in :D)
So, thank you so much for sparing your time to read this and see ya soon.
Neringa ❤

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Update So, this was what I've been thinking. Since I'm kind of writting this to myself and since it's ”my” page to begin with starting tomorow (the 3rd of March) I'm going to publish a novel here. Not just any novel though, but the shitty one I'm writting myself. You see, when the text is sitting in a word document on my desktop there is a lack of motivation to read it a nother 1000 times or writte it further, when the kinks of the older parts are not quite smove yet. So, starting this saturday and ecvery saturday affter I'm going to post a chapter of the story I'm proud of, of the novel I'm going to finish (not like the 5 others that were before it) so, in conclusion - read it, don't read it. Writte comments, don't writte comments. You know what? I don't really care anymore. The most important thing in life is to be happy and make others happy, so I hope It will make someone happy (interested) and it will get me motivated. So see ya on sat...
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The soul I know I talked a little about this in my blog about reincarnation, but I want to say more conserning this matter, becouse not very long ago I made a revolation that shocked me a little, but I feel It has solid ground. So from a young age we are thought by our parents, church or grandma (oh that grandma...) about the fact that out body is mortal, but inside we have an immortal soul. It's all well and dandy there but then starts that buls*it about ”when we die we go to heven” and stay there becouse in the bilions of years that the earth exsisted it soooo possible that all the ded people are there the milions upon milions of f - ing souls just living happily in some wonderland!!! (Sorry I got a little caried away couse this story is just so stupid (no offence to those that believe in it)). So, this story gave me the oppurtunity to speculate that reincarnation exsists - whenever we die, our soul (maby making a pitstop in the so called hevan) returns to earth and we are born...
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Feeling It's a very strange feeling, what i felt today... I just finished a book, an istorical novel about world war II. It was a great book.I felt as if it was wrote for me. I was reading the last few pages when I felt tear tracks coming down my face. I didn't really feel sad, I already got through the most tragic parts and still, I felt something strange, something from inside. Something was bothering me as tears fell down on the page and something clenched my frought. It's like the one crying wasn't me. Like it was somebody else, somebody that deeply understood the pain that was ingraved on to these pages. It is curently 2 a.m. as I'm writting this. I still can't sleep. I can't calm myself down. I can't understand what is real ant what isn't, where does the story end? Yes, i finished that book, but i feel like it isn't finished, not becouse it ended in the way it did, but becouse, in some way, I feel like it is still going on. I feel scared...
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