09/30/2026, Wednesday.

If someone were to ask me for a brief description of myself, it would probably sounds something like this: a stubborn and charismatic idealist with a big heart—one that possesses an extraordinary ability to heal.

Such a short description, yet it holds so much hidden information!

To start writing "anew", I had to read through my previous posts so I wouldn't accidentally repeat myself. An unexercised memory can be unreliable, and it’s been a long time since I was last here...It is hard to objective judge my writing from July, I wouldn't change nothing from it, but today I see it different way.
Only today I did fully understand why it took me so long to get around to writing—something I actually love doing.

The reason for my absence wasn't that the screen was giving me conjunctivitis. It wasn't linked to my father's death either (well, not entirely), nor to a lack of time—because time can always be found if we truly want it.

A lot has happened in my private life over the last two months, and things got a bit unprofessional at work, too, due to an overflow of emotions. A massive gap opened up between Harley—who was barely ready for adulthood—and Adrianna, who had been seasoned by life's hard lessons.

And what was I supposed to do with that gap? I had to mend it—effectively yet gently. Starting at the frayed edges and risking my life—following an invisible thread—I fell down a few times... But my hands are strong; true to the spirit of the hard-working Sisyphus, even when devoid of strength or hope, I refused to give up. I wanted to bridge that chasm with all my heart.
When I argued with my ex-husband—and those arguments weren't always friendly—he used to say I was "indestructible." I have to admit he was right. A round of applause for the man who dislikes me so much, yet—every time I’m down—motivates me to keep moving forward, even if I have to crawl on my elbows.
As you might guess (and I know there are a few of you—thank you for the support and for asking about my blog’s return), I’ve mended that hole.

This means I poured an immense amount of energy into revisiting memories—ones that pulled me away from reality—and confronting the pain of unfulfilled dreams. It was a bumpy journey; along the way, my dad passed away—a man I didn't like, yet respected and always loved far too deeply. I also made a stop at Yoga Sculpt and Pilates, where I could release pent-up tension, anxiety, and other unpleasant feelings—of which there were plenty.
In short, it was quite the rollercoaster ride, compounded by the kind of stress that truly paralyzes and drains me...
Do I regret taking on this mending process? Absolutely not.

I am not sure Harley Quinn exists anymore inside me. I am sorry.

My mother always told me that my honesty would get me nowhere... yet, as an idealist, I always choose to be honest. I lie only when I have to, and usually for the sake of others. I really dislike doing it, though; my mind likes to analyze everything, and I feel like a criminal caught in my own trap.
I am writing today as Adrianna—a woman who, this very morning, found answers to all the questions that had been weighing on her mind. She has cast off her past in favor of a future she consciously and independently orchestrated, grounded in the principles of self-love.
I’ve come to terms with my ADHD and am trying to channel it positively. Anxiety only strikes when I’m stressed, so I try to avoid stressors altogether. I steer clear of people even more than before, and I resolved everything with my dad telepathically while at the hospital.
From a reader's perspective, things might look promising, but—as you know—it wasn't that easy.

Just yesterday morning, I didn't know where all of us humans were rushing to. I doubted my decisions and desperately tried to conjure up my dad in my thoughts, missing the way he showed love—however unfeelingly... Just yesterday, a bit of "Harley" still lived inside me—the persona whose stage name I’d adopted for good.
So, what could have happened in the span of a few hours the day before that enabled me to finally stitch up that hole?

I'd be willing to bet—even though I don’t read the Chicago message boards—that questions have popped up about Harley Queen, along with disgruntled posts complaining that she’s cancelled a meeting yet again...
I am truly sorry; I offer my sincerest apologies to everyone. I apologize with all my heart for the fact that when I’m stressed, sad, or emotionally battered, I simply cannot focus solely on work or switch into sharing my love "earn-and-don't-think" mode. In moments like those, I don’t feel my inner strength, I don’t feel sexy, and I feel that meeting someone in that state makes absolutely no sense. Positive people should view this as a sign of respect.

Yesterday, a man I met a few weeks ago messaged me. He’s quite enigmatic, so our initial "verification" meeting took place in a park and lasted only about thirty minutes. We simply talked—about things far more interesting than sex. I was surprised that a man like him would seek out someone working in the adult entertainment industry.
I was even more surprised to find he knew every detail from my blog; I sensed his admiration for animals and saw that he knew how to handle them. Then, when I told him my dad had passed away and that I was struggling with it, he opened up about his own father, and I felt an incredible sense of relief. It wasn't because our stories were similar, but because the conclusion of what he said intrigued me so deeply that I decided to cut all the negative people and emotions out of my life.
I know it now, but my brain informed me about this fact, when almost all work was done.
He started to cry, and at one point I wasn’t sure if he was upset because of the memories or because of my story, so I hugged him. 
We stood there embracing for a while, and even though I had only just met him, I could feel his genuine empathy. 
My daughter was waiting in the car, so I broke the embrace and we said goodbye.

As I mentioned, it was a few weeks ago, he was mailing to me sometimes shortly, but never initialised any meeting.
Yesterday morning he asked do I want to hang out. I wouldn't hang out, if he would be my customer, but he wasn't and I can't lie, I didn't think about him during last week. Experiencing sincere love from a stranger is a bit like winning the lottery. So, I thought about him and my daughter whenever suicidal thoughts overwhelmed me.

When he found out what my week looked like—and that I’d be working as a cleaner on Thursday—he texted me not to bring comfortable shoes, but rather cleaning supplies, because he wanted me to help him tidy up his condo. I was curious to see how we’d work together, so naturally, we met up. Usually, when cleaning clients say "we’ll do this together," it ends with a few instructions and the sound of a door closing, leaving me alone to deal with the grime.I didn't come to his place as a worker, I came to help for a human being.
The apartment turned out to be much cleaner than I’d expected, and he didn't just leave me there. He obediently followed his "boss's" orders—because, unexpectedly, I’d received a call from my lawyer on the way over and had to be somewhere by 3:00, so we didn't have much time for laundry and cleaning.
With a Swiffer in hand, he looked like every woman's dream. The humility and thoroughness with which he tackled the dust were indescribable. And it was all accompanied by a smile—a truly genuine smile.
For the first time since my dad died, I felt really good—happy, even.
I walked up to him while he was tending to the nightstands and asked if I could kiss him. I was simply curious what I’d feel when our lips got close... but he gently pushed me away and hugged me instead. Much respect! Where have men like that gone?! When a man chooses not to touch a woman despite having the opportunity, it means he wants to touch her soul. It is the most beautiful language of love there is.
I didn't rush, because I felt incredibly comfortable in his company; I mean, I didn't have to pretend to be anyone other than myself, and I felt genuinely accepted.
Time was running out fast; I ran to get things out of the dryer, and while folding the laundry, I told him about the dilemma I was facing. I think I have a new friend. I am truly lucky!
All that was left was to put on the bed linens and gather up my cleaning supplies, but he lay down on the bed and asked me to sit down. I didn't sense any sexual undertones from him, so I did. He looked at me the way I usually look at people—trying to cast a line into my thoughts. I looked back, trying to cast my own line, but I couldn't read anything—something that had never happened to me before. I felt safe and, frankly, too good. His energy is strong—just like mine, or very similar. There was no kissing, but when he gently stroked my shoulders and arms, I felt a fire in my calves; that’s the only way I can describe it. I didn't feel sexual arousal, even though we were cuddling; I simply felt an intense, indescribable closeness and a sense of our beings intermingling. When he grazed my neck with his lips, I felt the purest love in the world.I decided to kiss his face, avoiding his lips. I simply wanted to tell him that he is loved, too.
What a bore—and not a single spicy detail, either... Well, as I mentioned, I spent weeks catching up on things I’d let slide, and I’m not the same person I was before.
I wanted to share this story because meeting that man led me to change several important decisions regarding my near future—something I’ll describe soon. Furthermore, meeting him—that exchange of energy—meant I paid absolutely no attention to the setting or the nature of our encounter, which was simply cleaning up. I’m trying my best to convey that, for the first time in my life, I experienced such powerful emotions without words—just an innocent touch and a caring gaze. It filled me with oxygen, making everything else—including my plans—seem utterly devoid of air by comparison. I wanted nothing more, expected nothing more. I was accepted, and I accepted fully with my whole being. I wouldn’t have traded that for any material illusions or sexual fireworks. I was happy, and I simply *was*. I wish I could feel that kind of peace and quiet always and everywhere. 
...and the point is:
When someone unexpectedly appears during the darkest or most mundane moments of our lives—someone who makes us feel happy, free, and loved—it is nothing less than light in its purest form. We no longer need to blame the white rabbit we’re chasing, because we finally sense the meaning of our existence.
 I dedicate this post to you—hermit with angelic curls and eyes that shimmer like the surface of the water when the sun is at its zenith. To your hands—hungry yet never greedy—to your open mind, your transparent soul and your heart, which reminded mine of its true purpose.
Know that I love you more than words can say, and that I will love you forever.
Thank you for giving my life new meaning.


To you, my readers, I wish for plenty of oxygen in every sphere of life.
I feel fulfilled knowing you want to read my words; that, too, gives meaning to my life.
See you soon,

peace and love !