To the sound of silence,,, into the far distance of a lost path resembling a labyrinth filled with stillness and awe,,, Into a space of nothingness ,,, of oblivion,,, towards a fantasy of translucent light, where darkness has colour and silence a painting of soft melodies and rimes,,,, To a place mysterious and unknown to human kind,,, towards a rainbow of deserted islands and shores, veiled secretly in the shadows of overlooked freedom impossible for any of them to find,,,
To a destiny unidentified and yet so safe,,, so lucid and clear,,, towards a coast where ships don’t sail,,, where loneliness doesn’t matter,,, and seclusion doesn’t affect,,, where the sun shines for only us,,, you and me,,, where the moon is the judge,,, so wise and fair,,,, where jasmine scents rule and hold the air,,, where stars don’t whisper,,, don’t blame,,, don’t doom,,, and twilight frees us from obscurity,,, dimness and gloom,,, To a place where the sea smiles,,, embraces and hugs us tight,,, and the sand around us dances ,,, a dance of love,,, of warmth ,,,of everlasting light,,, Let me take you to a vicinity where no one can judge or ridicule your thoughts,,, where no one ever questions or tries to understand,,, where nature surrounds us like a duvet,,,, like a shield and cover,,, accompany me to a dwelling that no one could ever reach,,, where words do not exist,,, and tears do not burn,,, do not leave traces of salt behind,,, take me on this journey into breaking dawn,,, allow me to be for always happily lost and forlorn,,,, permit me to vanish and never be found,,,, accept my every scar,,, my every wound,,, be there with me my saviour ,,, my ally,,, my mate in souls,,, be my improved perception ,,, my uncomplicated reflection,,, be my one and only understanding friend,,, be there to wake me from my dreams harbouring aptness and perfection,,,, be there to let me drown and dive,,, be my instinct,,, my impulse,,, my intuition,,,, be the urge for me to survive,,, be the one to help me deeply loose and find,,,,, be with me along it all,,, my precious,,, strange ,,, outlandish MIND....
06.september.2010
Monday 6 September 2010
Friday 3 September 2010
When You left...
Everything once so complete,,,, so fulfilled so accomplished shattered, broke and splintered when you left,,, When you left,,,, the clouds once so light and clear,, darkened and closed around the sun suffocating its rays,,, the ground once so even,,, fell away,,, the life once so meaningful turned upside down,,, and the time once identified by beautiful memories ,,,, suddenly stood still,,, Everything was suddenly brought to a halt,,, When you left,,, the importance of life was suddenly lost,,, the meaning and act of living perished,,, the need for movement vanished and the want for breathing evaporated,,, A hole,,,, something wider ,,,, bigger ,,,, and deeper than a crack,,, that’s what your absence punched into my chest,,, into my heart,,, into my soul,,, engraved into my blood,,,, a vast and empty void of sorrow,,,, of grief,,,, of loss , anger, pain, loneliness and disbelief,,,, Death of meaning ,,, demise of hope,,, bereavement of simple acts as understanding,,, as thinking,,, as moving,,, or speaking,,, or even breathing,,,, as if with every breath the hole only gets deeper and darker,,, and much more powerful,,, draining out more and more energy,,,, energy i do not seem to own to begin with,,,, You left,,,, still not believable,,, you left,,,, and when you left you left behind you a broken shore,,, an empty and deserted coast,,, a forlorn cracked rock,,, a shattered house caving in on itself haunted by soulless cold and defeated ghosts,,, you left a shadow of worthlessness,,, a silhouette filled with nothing but despair,,, a fading shape beaten out of spirit,,, burying itself in the sand,,, swaying along the harsh wind of the sea,,, you left behind an image of a person dead and yet alive,,,, a self unable to talk,,,, to think,,, to move,,, to even feel,,, a figure as cold as marble unable to cry ,,,, unable to scream,,, void of all emotions,,,, void of everything,,,, aware of nothing but the haunting dark foggy like numbness,,, unable to see colours or hear sounds,,, not capable of differentiating between dark and light,,,, between day and night,,,, unaware of anything besides the hot burning fire slicing through that empty hole of a chest only to stop seconds before the actual hit,,, to stare me right into my empty eyes and swallow me whole,,,, fire,,, blaze,,, burning,,, and yet there is no other pain than the needles penetrating my skin,,,, my veins,,, my blood,,, screaming “he left,,,, he left,,, he left,,,”
They correct me,,, they say you had no choice,,, they say you didn’t leave,,,, they say you were taken,,, but in the end its all the same,,, because you left,,, you left,,, and when you did ,,, you took away my strengths,,, my hope,,, my dreams,,, my trust,,,, my faith,,,, my beliefs,,, you took away things i didn’t know i possessed,,, you took away my will,,, my power to live,,, to smile,,, to walk ,,, to sleep,,, to wake up,,, why would i want to wake up when it seems such a painful thing to do,,,, why am i forced to wake to the same continuing and daunting existence of nothingness,,,, what is existence without you in any case,,, You left,,,, and along you there,,, many things indeed did leave,,, you took away the meaning of Meaning,,, the understanding of continuation,,, the importance of voices,,, of faces,,, the love and care for people ,,,but how can there be any love for anyone else,,, when you are not there anymore,,, how can there be such a concept when its not you in it,,,, you took away the ground from underneath my feet ,,, and the sky from above my head,,, you took along everything to the left and to the right,,, everything above and under,,, and dropped me like pantomime,,, with no strings to pull me back upright,,,, or hold me save,,,, when you left there ceased to be a place,,,, and yet you left,,,, How could you have just left and left me behind,,, how could you have gone,,, and not taken me with you,,, didn’t you promise that we are one balanced in two,,, how come then that without you Im less than half ,,, less than dead,,, less than anyone could ever be,,, how could you have just sliced me in two, taking a part that was already yours,,, and leaving behind a part that has always belonged to you,,, how could you have left me here,,,, where is here anyway? Who did you leave me to,,,, Did you leave me to drown into a sea of tears I’m unable to cry,,,, or to suffocate in the many breath I’m unable to take,,, why did you leave me here lying on this broken floor,,, why did you take away all warmth,,, all protection ,,,, all care,,, all meaning of who I was meant to be,,, don’t you know I ceased to exist for myself when I met you,,,, don’t you know that you were my home,, my identity,,, my saviour,,, my abode,,, my everything ,,,my spot on soul ,,,,so true ,,, how could you have left me less than broken,,, more than damaged,,, more than dead and yet far far less than alive,,,, how could you have gone and left me with no shield,,, with no shelter,,, no wish and prayer so loud and true,,, other than for mercy,,, for pity to let me break from the endless dawn,,, to follow,,, to leave,,,, to die,,,, and be with you,,,
They correct me,,, they say you had no choice,,, they say you didn’t leave,,,, they say you were taken,,, but in the end its all the same,,, because you left,,, you left,,, and when you did ,,, you took away my strengths,,, my hope,,, my dreams,,, my trust,,,, my faith,,,, my beliefs,,, you took away things i didn’t know i possessed,,, you took away my will,,, my power to live,,, to smile,,, to walk ,,, to sleep,,, to wake up,,, why would i want to wake up when it seems such a painful thing to do,,,, why am i forced to wake to the same continuing and daunting existence of nothingness,,,, what is existence without you in any case,,, You left,,,, and along you there,,, many things indeed did leave,,, you took away the meaning of Meaning,,, the understanding of continuation,,, the importance of voices,,, of faces,,, the love and care for people ,,,but how can there be any love for anyone else,,, when you are not there anymore,,, how can there be such a concept when its not you in it,,,, you took away the ground from underneath my feet ,,, and the sky from above my head,,, you took along everything to the left and to the right,,, everything above and under,,, and dropped me like pantomime,,, with no strings to pull me back upright,,,, or hold me save,,,, when you left there ceased to be a place,,,, and yet you left,,,, How could you have just left and left me behind,,, how could you have gone,,, and not taken me with you,,, didn’t you promise that we are one balanced in two,,, how come then that without you Im less than half ,,, less than dead,,, less than anyone could ever be,,, how could you have just sliced me in two, taking a part that was already yours,,, and leaving behind a part that has always belonged to you,,, how could you have left me here,,,, where is here anyway? Who did you leave me to,,,, Did you leave me to drown into a sea of tears I’m unable to cry,,,, or to suffocate in the many breath I’m unable to take,,, why did you leave me here lying on this broken floor,,, why did you take away all warmth,,, all protection ,,,, all care,,, all meaning of who I was meant to be,,, don’t you know I ceased to exist for myself when I met you,,,, don’t you know that you were my home,, my identity,,, my saviour,,, my abode,,, my everything ,,,my spot on soul ,,,,so true ,,, how could you have left me less than broken,,, more than damaged,,, more than dead and yet far far less than alive,,,, how could you have gone and left me with no shield,,, with no shelter,,, no wish and prayer so loud and true,,, other than for mercy,,, for pity to let me break from the endless dawn,,, to follow,,, to leave,,,, to die,,,, and be with you,,,
Thursday 26 August 2010
Infatuation...
Who said we were so different,,, so unlike,,, you and me? Who said that we didn’t match, that we didn’t thrive,,, that we didn’t belong,,, that our separated paths weren’t entwined and didn’t cross,,, meet and go along,,,?
Who said that my sniffles of sadness and joy were unlike the tears that touch your hair,,, and crease your forehead,,, stream down your chin,,,, and expire on the gravel underneath your feet,,,, who said that we didn’t the days,,, the hours,,, the seasons in the same detached and isolated way salute and greet,,, who said that my nonchalance to existence couldn’t match up and coincide,,, couldn’t stay head to head and overrun your inflexibility and hardness to life,,, to nature,,, and your obduracy in the human being to trust and confide,,, Who said that i understood or fitted any more than you,,,, who said that i did belong,,,, that i did comprehend,,, that i could differentiate between the fake and the true,,,, who told you that i could laugh any louder,,, or sing any better,,, or smile any brighter,,,, who told you that i had a chance,,, a path,,, a clue,,,,, because i do not understand and will probably never do,,,
How ,,, you see,,, how can people misjudge your purpose,,, condemn and censure your abilities,,,, defying your splendour and serene tranquillity,,,, how can they not see the beauty hidden behind your eyelids,,, beyond the echo of your words,,, and the shadow of your retreating footprints,,, how can they not comprehend or understand my infatuation with your presence,,, my value of your smile,,,, and the significance of your tight embrace around me,,,,
How can individuals implying intelligence, knowledge and aptitude,,, be so scrupulously misguided, so narrow-minded as to not sense the power of your shield,,,, the scent of your armour,,, and the exquisiteness of your enchanting magic,,, how are they able to walk through you not seeing,,, not feeling ,,,, not becoming love addicts,,, how can they not be aware of you wrapping your arms around me like a ghost of warmth,,, full of compassion,,, of understanding,,,, of wisdom,,, of hands able to hide my tears to erase my fears,,, to wipe clean my mistakes,,, my sins,,, my past and present pain,,,, how can they not hear me whispering your name,,,, my voice buried in your chest,,,, how can they overhear my declaration of love for you,,,, for your existence,,, how can they look,,, but not see,,,, how can they declare me insane,,,, tell me then what is the gain of being human,,, of being so shallow,,, of being present with no abilities,,, no power,,, no motives for being or not being,,,, tell me how can one thought consume me day after day,,, hoping,,, wishing,,, praying,,, i was just like you my dearest love,,, a single drop of RAIN,,,
Who said that my sniffles of sadness and joy were unlike the tears that touch your hair,,, and crease your forehead,,, stream down your chin,,,, and expire on the gravel underneath your feet,,,, who said that we didn’t the days,,, the hours,,, the seasons in the same detached and isolated way salute and greet,,, who said that my nonchalance to existence couldn’t match up and coincide,,, couldn’t stay head to head and overrun your inflexibility and hardness to life,,, to nature,,, and your obduracy in the human being to trust and confide,,, Who said that i understood or fitted any more than you,,,, who said that i did belong,,,, that i did comprehend,,, that i could differentiate between the fake and the true,,,, who told you that i could laugh any louder,,, or sing any better,,, or smile any brighter,,,, who told you that i had a chance,,, a path,,, a clue,,,,, because i do not understand and will probably never do,,,
How ,,, you see,,, how can people misjudge your purpose,,, condemn and censure your abilities,,,, defying your splendour and serene tranquillity,,,, how can they not see the beauty hidden behind your eyelids,,, beyond the echo of your words,,, and the shadow of your retreating footprints,,, how can they not comprehend or understand my infatuation with your presence,,, my value of your smile,,,, and the significance of your tight embrace around me,,,,
How can individuals implying intelligence, knowledge and aptitude,,, be so scrupulously misguided, so narrow-minded as to not sense the power of your shield,,,, the scent of your armour,,, and the exquisiteness of your enchanting magic,,, how are they able to walk through you not seeing,,, not feeling ,,,, not becoming love addicts,,, how can they not be aware of you wrapping your arms around me like a ghost of warmth,,, full of compassion,,, of understanding,,,, of wisdom,,, of hands able to hide my tears to erase my fears,,, to wipe clean my mistakes,,, my sins,,, my past and present pain,,,, how can they not hear me whispering your name,,,, my voice buried in your chest,,,, how can they overhear my declaration of love for you,,,, for your existence,,, how can they look,,, but not see,,,, how can they declare me insane,,,, tell me then what is the gain of being human,,, of being so shallow,,, of being present with no abilities,,, no power,,, no motives for being or not being,,,, tell me how can one thought consume me day after day,,, hoping,,, wishing,,, praying,,, i was just like you my dearest love,,, a single drop of RAIN,,,
Monday 9 August 2010
Morning Break
I’m staring out,,, down the road ,,,on the streets we are passing by,,, at the window shops that are still closed down,,, at the curtains that are still drawn shut,,, at everything that is slowly gliding by ,,, I’m staring out lost in the scene of morning routine,,, of uniforms,,, and suits,,, of smiling faces and moodily darkened visages,,, of cars being started and bicycles being locked,,, of parks being opened and Gardens being walked through ,,,,a blend of coffee being brewed and breakfast being served,,, I’m staring at nothing in particular and yet somehow it seems to be the beginning of everything,,, a fresh light,,,, a sleepy smile,,, a novel hope,,, maybe a new chance,,,, perhaps a new start,,,, as if the crack of dawn is bringing along a wind to turn the page,,, to twist the leaf,,, to dry the tears ,,, to hide the fears,,, and conceal the night’s still and silent choking grief,,,
I watch hopeful and eager children running across the road,,, their innocent faces lightened by the shining sun,,, not caring ,,, not concerned by the stressed and hassled commuters running towards the tube,,, missing the last bus and swearing out aloud,,,, I see ,,,I smile ,,, I turn away,,, and I wonder,,, I wonder how come everything has its time and place,,, I marvel at how close a distance we miss out on the things we really want,,,, and how we believe and pursue the wrong directions for years and years,,,, at how long it takes us to stand up and face our apprehensions,,, I look in amazement at how one persons biggest problems can seem absurd, insignificant and nonexistent to the rest of us,,, how come we don’t realize,,, how come we are so overtaken by our own troubles, dilemmas’ and own set scopes and dimensions,,,
I watch appreciating natures cycle without discovering anything new,,, without unleashing anything worth discussing or writing about,,, and yet somehow the world seems smaller,,, somehow the tiny details seem more important more relevant more related to everything and everyone,,, somehow strangers seem closer,,, and friends seem further away,,, somehow reality seems to merge with imagination and dreams,,, somehow and really only somehow ,,, our boring mornings seem worth the routine,,,, and our lives seem worth being not perfect,,,, not faultless and not pristine,,,
I watch hopeful and eager children running across the road,,, their innocent faces lightened by the shining sun,,, not caring ,,, not concerned by the stressed and hassled commuters running towards the tube,,, missing the last bus and swearing out aloud,,,, I see ,,,I smile ,,, I turn away,,, and I wonder,,, I wonder how come everything has its time and place,,, I marvel at how close a distance we miss out on the things we really want,,,, and how we believe and pursue the wrong directions for years and years,,,, at how long it takes us to stand up and face our apprehensions,,, I look in amazement at how one persons biggest problems can seem absurd, insignificant and nonexistent to the rest of us,,, how come we don’t realize,,, how come we are so overtaken by our own troubles, dilemmas’ and own set scopes and dimensions,,,
I watch appreciating natures cycle without discovering anything new,,, without unleashing anything worth discussing or writing about,,, and yet somehow the world seems smaller,,, somehow the tiny details seem more important more relevant more related to everything and everyone,,, somehow strangers seem closer,,, and friends seem further away,,, somehow reality seems to merge with imagination and dreams,,, somehow and really only somehow ,,, our boring mornings seem worth the routine,,,, and our lives seem worth being not perfect,,,, not faultless and not pristine,,,
Thursday 5 August 2010
Broken Shore,,,
Summer, a flavour of sun, warmth and long awaited breaks was supposed to arrive, and yet the rain hasn’t stopped its daily showers from visiting our parks, our streets,,, our cobs
Leaves meant to be swaying its dark Green colours,,, have been seen taken by the wind, falling to the grounds,,, their shade abandoning its skin and welcoming autumn into their strive,,,
Nights arriving late,,, believed to be the beholder of empty hearts, of loneliness and grief,,, of nonchalance and mischief,,,, are in truth high-priced magical hours framed by understanding , reason and clarity,,, long walks taken during the dark early morning hours along the harbour,,,, thought to be a pitiable and wretched attempt of such a futile and needless act as forgetting,,,, are in truth the guardian and keeper of the little safe kept hours of freedom,, of sanity and candour....
Life ,,, believed to be so unfair,,, so unmerited,,, so complicated and difficult,,, is in reality awfully misjudged and over credited,,,, it is in authenticity only as simple and straightforward as we set for it to be ,,,, as clear cut as we bond and agree to its authority.... human keep looking, wondering,,, asking why,,, how and what for,,,, searching for reasons they will not find,,,, seeking explanations that are not owed to them ,,, refusing to accept the fact that no matter how sad,,, how unjust,,, or how irrational its seems,,, no matter how thick your walls,,,, or high a fence around yourself you build,,,, things will always adjust,,, alter,,,, modify and change,,,,,
Phases of hurt and anger dissolve,,, chapters of happiness and glow melt away,,, friendships meant to last forever ,,, weaken and deteriorate,,, Loves expected to last for eternity,,, break ,,, die and fade astray,,, dreams are shattered , while new ambitions are created and fulfilled,,, people cry ,,, grief in misery and mourn for loved ones, while others laugh ,,, sing and dance to different rhythms’ and melodies,,, people leave,,,, while others enter this world with a scream of joy,,,, or is it sadness and anger too...?
All the while,,, seasons keep changing,,, the earth keeps moving and people keep growing,,, older,,,, wiser ,,,, more cynical and apart,,,, hours,,, days,,,, months ,,,, and years fly by,,,, marked only by secret diaries kept in our hearts,,,, recorded by memories of faces,,, places and adventures imprinted in our minds,,, proven by aging,,, colour fading lost photographs,,,,
And we wonder,,, do we get to do all the things one is supposed to do,,,, do we get to say all the words we know we were meant to say,,,, do we get to be with all the people we thought we would be with,,,, do we take every joyous or sad stricken ride this carousel called life urged us to take,,???
Sadly,,, strangely and unexpectedly amusingly ....no,,,, no,,,,, and no,,,,, for the reason that we discover this world is like a broken shore,,,, sometimes we drown in its high tides,,, sometimes we lose all that we ever wanted in its huge waves and turn around,,, swim back to the land,,,, that may not be designed to contain or fulfil our dreams and yet is simply undemanding and safer to inhabit,,,,, and sometimes,,,, we reach the other side ,,, we reach the land,,, we touch the sand we have always wanted, desired, yearned for and craved,,,, only to discover that it’s been long since forsaken,,, abandoned,,,, cast off and deserted......
Friday 28 May 2010
heartbreak
Someone define heart break to me please...what is it?When are we allowed to say that our heart has been broken,,,,does it only count for those who are at the receiving end of a break up for example?Is it only them whose heart has actually been torn apart, who cried and went through the stages of denial, shock,sadness, anger, hurt, and pain, waking up every morning with that odd ache in their chest, not knowing what it was that was clamming down on them making it hard to breathe, making it hard to move and physically painful to speak or smile or even look....Are they the only people who hurt, when a relationship ends, are they allowed to take all the credit for being hurt?Are they allowed to direct all their anger and sadness on the other person,the person who took the initiative to end it in the first place?
Yes...?No....?Maybe....?But why, why cant anyone understand or see how painful it must be for a person to end a relationship with someone he or she cares about and loves, why doesnt anyone want to hear about it, not wanting to understand the reason, or feel compassion, or take some of the blame directed towards this human being that must be aching and hurting the same , if not even more...why doesnt anyone see that loss doesnt just happen one way around,,,its a wave that hits forward and backwards slapping and crashing both shores with equal measure,,, if thats true,,,,and logically it is,,,then why doesnt anyone want to accept that a person who breaks up with someone doesnt always have to be the bad guy, who took it all and left someones heart bleeding on the sidewalk?Why doesnt anyone recognize how hard it is to say such cruel words to someone you have shared history with, to someone you respect and love and care about, to someone you have spent all your energy, time, love, tears and memories on,,,why doesnt anyone understand that saying to someone you love "its over",is actually harder for the person saying it than the one receiving it, why hasnt anyone thought about how disgusted and nostalgic one feel with themselves when they see that look of shock ,,,of dissapointment,,,of betrayal,,,cross the face of someone they love and worship so much,,,,how that face closes up,,,and becomes a blank canvas outlined only by anger and sadness and hurt pride,,,sometimes even by hate,,,,all feelings of warmth,,,affection and love gone,,,,blown away,,,,Why doesnt anyone see that hurting someone you love is like putting a knife through your own flesh,,,,like lighting up a fire underneath you,,,,like throwing yourself of a bridge into a sea ,,,so deep and black and scary and unknown,,,that you shiver with fear,,,with shame,,,with guilt,,,,with hesitance....
Why hasnt anyone ever tried to see beyond those persons word,,,,beyond his or her firm face and undeterred expression,,,behind those cold words and that firm stand,,,,,behind those bleak eyes,,,,behind those thoughts that he or she holds on to believing "its better this way"or "its for the best that way"...why....why hasnt anyone tried to stop for a second to see that person uttering those words,,,,crumbling to the floor,,,shaking with anger and sadness and hurt and loss,,,,tears flowing down that face that moments ago was bleached from all expressions,,,why doesnt anyone stay long enough to realize that sometimes a person is forced to give up on something,,,someone, he or she really loves,,,whether,,,a best friend,,,, a soulmate... a love they might never see again,,,a second half they might never be able to replace,,,why doesnt anyone stay long enough to see that this person cant be left to feel hurt and loss and anger alone,,,,,this person has to deal with shadows of darkness,,,plaguing him and her for a long long time,,,,with unanswered questions such as how is she/he doing?Does he/she hate me now?Does she/ he think i was playing them?Is she/he going to ever forgive/forget me?All questions with no answers,,,,all fears without rays of light,,,,all feelings of shame and guilt and hurt and anger at oneself and others,,,,a sea of mixed feelings,,,of lonliness and confusion and unforgivable thoughts,,,,they hunt us ,,,break us,,,shatter our soules,,,,me and you,,,,and everyone who has once boken up with someone,,,or said "its over",,,,or has once looked into a mirror to see sad eyes staring back ,,,saying:YOU BROKE SOMEONES HEART!"
Yes...?No....?Maybe....?But why, why cant anyone understand or see how painful it must be for a person to end a relationship with someone he or she cares about and loves, why doesnt anyone want to hear about it, not wanting to understand the reason, or feel compassion, or take some of the blame directed towards this human being that must be aching and hurting the same , if not even more...why doesnt anyone see that loss doesnt just happen one way around,,,its a wave that hits forward and backwards slapping and crashing both shores with equal measure,,, if thats true,,,,and logically it is,,,then why doesnt anyone want to accept that a person who breaks up with someone doesnt always have to be the bad guy, who took it all and left someones heart bleeding on the sidewalk?Why doesnt anyone recognize how hard it is to say such cruel words to someone you have shared history with, to someone you respect and love and care about, to someone you have spent all your energy, time, love, tears and memories on,,,why doesnt anyone understand that saying to someone you love "its over",is actually harder for the person saying it than the one receiving it, why hasnt anyone thought about how disgusted and nostalgic one feel with themselves when they see that look of shock ,,,of dissapointment,,,of betrayal,,,cross the face of someone they love and worship so much,,,,how that face closes up,,,and becomes a blank canvas outlined only by anger and sadness and hurt pride,,,sometimes even by hate,,,,all feelings of warmth,,,affection and love gone,,,,blown away,,,,Why doesnt anyone see that hurting someone you love is like putting a knife through your own flesh,,,,like lighting up a fire underneath you,,,,like throwing yourself of a bridge into a sea ,,,so deep and black and scary and unknown,,,that you shiver with fear,,,with shame,,,with guilt,,,,with hesitance....
Why hasnt anyone ever tried to see beyond those persons word,,,,beyond his or her firm face and undeterred expression,,,behind those cold words and that firm stand,,,,,behind those bleak eyes,,,,behind those thoughts that he or she holds on to believing "its better this way"or "its for the best that way"...why....why hasnt anyone tried to stop for a second to see that person uttering those words,,,,crumbling to the floor,,,shaking with anger and sadness and hurt and loss,,,,tears flowing down that face that moments ago was bleached from all expressions,,,why doesnt anyone stay long enough to realize that sometimes a person is forced to give up on something,,,someone, he or she really loves,,,whether,,,a best friend,,,, a soulmate... a love they might never see again,,,a second half they might never be able to replace,,,why doesnt anyone stay long enough to see that this person cant be left to feel hurt and loss and anger alone,,,,,this person has to deal with shadows of darkness,,,plaguing him and her for a long long time,,,,with unanswered questions such as how is she/he doing?Does he/she hate me now?Does she/ he think i was playing them?Is she/he going to ever forgive/forget me?All questions with no answers,,,,all fears without rays of light,,,,all feelings of shame and guilt and hurt and anger at oneself and others,,,,a sea of mixed feelings,,,of lonliness and confusion and unforgivable thoughts,,,,they hunt us ,,,break us,,,shatter our soules,,,,me and you,,,,and everyone who has once boken up with someone,,,or said "its over",,,,or has once looked into a mirror to see sad eyes staring back ,,,saying:YOU BROKE SOMEONES HEART!"
Sunday 21 March 2010
home...
Home?What is home?Is it the house that we are born into?In which we grow up,take our first steps,say our first talks and have our first tears or laughs?Is it the place in which our parents and siblings reside?Where our food is cooked for us, and our washing is cleaned and dried,is it where we play and fight with our sisters and brothers and where we can depend and put off our responsibilities and duties on the people who love and care about us?
If yes then why does it stop feeling like our real home the second we move out and away?Why do we grow out of our home the minute we move into our own bedsit, bedroom, flat share or even new apartment,why does the house which we were made to consider our home for years and years , suddenly become like a far away place which we visit from time to time ever now and then. A place which we still love, in which our memories, our past and our stories still reside and yet somehow it doesnt really feel like home anymore.Somehow it becomes our place of memory collections, more like museum in which our past reminices are collected and stored rather than our home.
We travel and grow up and change and learn to create, rent and buy our own places, our homes?So do we call them home?Even though we were used to call our parents house our home, does our own place then replace it?Does it become our home?
Somehow it does, because its a place into which we enter from point zero, a place that wasnt really a part of us even before we were born, it is place where we start fresh, bulid the beginning, and imprint our own personality and integrity,,,somehow what we bulid becomes our home, our lodge, our place to be,,,
If yes then why does it stop feeling like our real home the second we move out and away?Why do we grow out of our home the minute we move into our own bedsit, bedroom, flat share or even new apartment,why does the house which we were made to consider our home for years and years , suddenly become like a far away place which we visit from time to time ever now and then. A place which we still love, in which our memories, our past and our stories still reside and yet somehow it doesnt really feel like home anymore.Somehow it becomes our place of memory collections, more like museum in which our past reminices are collected and stored rather than our home.
We travel and grow up and change and learn to create, rent and buy our own places, our homes?So do we call them home?Even though we were used to call our parents house our home, does our own place then replace it?Does it become our home?
Somehow it does, because its a place into which we enter from point zero, a place that wasnt really a part of us even before we were born, it is place where we start fresh, bulid the beginning, and imprint our own personality and integrity,,,somehow what we bulid becomes our home, our lodge, our place to be,,,
Tuesday 16 February 2010
The World is Labeled,,,,
You walk down the street on a Sunday morning, believing that your sweat pants and jumper are totally okay and somehow cute, after all you are only going for a walk in the park, arent you?
And yet between the trees and flowers beds you fail not to notice, the all consuming and overwhelming existence of gucci, channel and prada, walking stunningly infront, next to, and behind you. And you wonder is everybody wearing labels?
Is there anyone not wearing a Louis Vuitton bag?Or Channel Sunglasses? Is anyone actually still aware of the existence of sandals prior Manolo Blahnik and Jimmy Choo?
Why is that each and every female lady among the crowd whether consiously or unknowing either owns a pair of flattering Prada Jeans or is dreaming about the prospect of being able to afford a Hermes handbag in the future?Have labels become so important to us?And if yes, then why?
Is it the status?A kind of feeling, that "hey im wearing Channel hence I am someone"?Is it the air of achievement?Or is it only daddys little spoilt girl who owns a bigger shoe closet than Carry Bradshaw does in Sex and the city?
Do people always buy those labels because they really think that they are too beautiful to be left on the shelf?Do we always actually like what we wear, or is just the name, and what this name presents?Are labels the next wave of anorexia?The starving of your pockets and your saving accounts, and an image that the world of celebrities and supermodels have overshadowed us with?Just like Size Zero and Malibu Beach houses?
Have labels lost their magnificent meaning, which used to state"i have worked hard and saved enough to be able to spoil myself an itsy bitsy?" and just become one of those daily demons each and every woman fights with, because they are a must have and because everywhere you go there they are staring, following, hunting even judging you?
Have we actually achieved turning Labels from being innocent treats to the self into this daily addiction,,, into this Fab and Glamourous Mask, which we can hide our real selfs, our flaws and shortcomings,,,our mortality behind???
And yet between the trees and flowers beds you fail not to notice, the all consuming and overwhelming existence of gucci, channel and prada, walking stunningly infront, next to, and behind you. And you wonder is everybody wearing labels?
Is there anyone not wearing a Louis Vuitton bag?Or Channel Sunglasses? Is anyone actually still aware of the existence of sandals prior Manolo Blahnik and Jimmy Choo?
Why is that each and every female lady among the crowd whether consiously or unknowing either owns a pair of flattering Prada Jeans or is dreaming about the prospect of being able to afford a Hermes handbag in the future?Have labels become so important to us?And if yes, then why?
Is it the status?A kind of feeling, that "hey im wearing Channel hence I am someone"?Is it the air of achievement?Or is it only daddys little spoilt girl who owns a bigger shoe closet than Carry Bradshaw does in Sex and the city?
Do people always buy those labels because they really think that they are too beautiful to be left on the shelf?Do we always actually like what we wear, or is just the name, and what this name presents?Are labels the next wave of anorexia?The starving of your pockets and your saving accounts, and an image that the world of celebrities and supermodels have overshadowed us with?Just like Size Zero and Malibu Beach houses?
Have labels lost their magnificent meaning, which used to state"i have worked hard and saved enough to be able to spoil myself an itsy bitsy?" and just become one of those daily demons each and every woman fights with, because they are a must have and because everywhere you go there they are staring, following, hunting even judging you?
Have we actually achieved turning Labels from being innocent treats to the self into this daily addiction,,, into this Fab and Glamourous Mask, which we can hide our real selfs, our flaws and shortcomings,,,our mortality behind???
Another day of Rain...
How many times have you sat infront of the window on your desk or the window seat, drinking a hot tea(probably snezzing and coughing), reading a book or surfing through your portable, all the while watching the rain hailing down on people, attacking their umbrellas, drenching their expensive coats, and making them pull grumpy faces and fast paces...
How many times have you just sat there watching, wondering, imagining, what these people's life consisted of, whether they were happy or not, whether they had similar problems to the ones you were going through?Have you ever sat there just wondering, feeling interested and yet not really caring,seeing faces pass by, pondering over the reason for why that one was so grumpy, or the other so sad, or yet another totally nonchallent and content?Have you ever judged people you didnt really know by their way of walking, or their way of staring, or by the way their presence made you feel?
Moreover have you ever sat there transfixed by the rain and the play of figures happening outside that window of yours, feeling so close and yet so far removed from everything, so excluded, so unconcerned, and yet not really out of place.Have you ever had that feeling as if the rain was surrounding, shielding, protecting you from the outside world?
Have you ever felt so close to everything, that you just wanted to cuddle up and keep all the warmth to yourself, close to your heart, close to you....
How many times have you just sat there watching, wondering, imagining, what these people's life consisted of, whether they were happy or not, whether they had similar problems to the ones you were going through?Have you ever sat there just wondering, feeling interested and yet not really caring,seeing faces pass by, pondering over the reason for why that one was so grumpy, or the other so sad, or yet another totally nonchallent and content?Have you ever judged people you didnt really know by their way of walking, or their way of staring, or by the way their presence made you feel?
Moreover have you ever sat there transfixed by the rain and the play of figures happening outside that window of yours, feeling so close and yet so far removed from everything, so excluded, so unconcerned, and yet not really out of place.Have you ever had that feeling as if the rain was surrounding, shielding, protecting you from the outside world?
Have you ever felt so close to everything, that you just wanted to cuddle up and keep all the warmth to yourself, close to your heart, close to you....
Saturday 13 February 2010
Change
How many times have you stood infront on the lights waiting for them to change from red to green, sometimes hurriedly, sometimes in slow motion, noticing how a slight change (orange) happens between the two.But have you ever thought about it?Have we ever actually thought about change, about how minimal or how anormous it can be, affecting us and everything around us?
Some of us fear and dread the change so much, that they prefer to relent to a routine biased life, doing and reliving the same motions day after day, such as the workplace, the relationship, the rendevouz, the friends meetings,the dentist, the type of books or music, or even the take out dinner.And yet there are also some among us who see change as the inevitable, as an improvement for the better, who just can not live or stand the routine, and have to undergo changes and explore new adventures and experiments to fullfill their daily life.
So how and why is that?why do some of us dread change so much,,,and why do others crave it so badly?what is change?why does it affect us and moreover does change to our life scare us so much because we somehow link it to our identity?Are some of us petrified of change because they believe that once something changes everything else would just collapse and change too?
That might be it, maybe, maybe change is somehow linked in our brains to be this enormous, colossal diversion from who we are and what we are used to be.Maybe we are just too afraid that if the change we undergo doesnt suit us, then it would be too late for us to change back, that we would have lost somehow.Maybe it is that the human being doesnt believe or trust in small changes taken one step at a time, perhaps it has to be this great , huge difference in order for us to notice or realize that something has actually altered.
But is change good or is it bad?
I guess there is no real answer to it, maybe it is one of those things that suits some of us perfectly well like a second skin, while it does affect and scare others off and takes them a long time to get adapted too...that might be it of course, and although personally i tend to believe that change somehow is the cause of altering to the better and improve the faults one sees in oneself, i do believe that change, gives us this new surge of adrenaline, like an injection of empowerment, a strong and vivid force that pulls us forward and renews our hope and determination. And regardless of the fact that i might be one of the most people on this planet(believe me when i say most i mean it!), that fear change and tend to get too comfortable in their own created safe and secure(known) surroundings,,,a part of me somehow always carves the change,,,the pull of the unknown, and the hope that what i dont know yet might somehow turn out to be much better and greater than what i have got used to for so long...
Some of us fear and dread the change so much, that they prefer to relent to a routine biased life, doing and reliving the same motions day after day, such as the workplace, the relationship, the rendevouz, the friends meetings,the dentist, the type of books or music, or even the take out dinner.And yet there are also some among us who see change as the inevitable, as an improvement for the better, who just can not live or stand the routine, and have to undergo changes and explore new adventures and experiments to fullfill their daily life.
So how and why is that?why do some of us dread change so much,,,and why do others crave it so badly?what is change?why does it affect us and moreover does change to our life scare us so much because we somehow link it to our identity?Are some of us petrified of change because they believe that once something changes everything else would just collapse and change too?
That might be it, maybe, maybe change is somehow linked in our brains to be this enormous, colossal diversion from who we are and what we are used to be.Maybe we are just too afraid that if the change we undergo doesnt suit us, then it would be too late for us to change back, that we would have lost somehow.Maybe it is that the human being doesnt believe or trust in small changes taken one step at a time, perhaps it has to be this great , huge difference in order for us to notice or realize that something has actually altered.
But is change good or is it bad?
I guess there is no real answer to it, maybe it is one of those things that suits some of us perfectly well like a second skin, while it does affect and scare others off and takes them a long time to get adapted too...that might be it of course, and although personally i tend to believe that change somehow is the cause of altering to the better and improve the faults one sees in oneself, i do believe that change, gives us this new surge of adrenaline, like an injection of empowerment, a strong and vivid force that pulls us forward and renews our hope and determination. And regardless of the fact that i might be one of the most people on this planet(believe me when i say most i mean it!), that fear change and tend to get too comfortable in their own created safe and secure(known) surroundings,,,a part of me somehow always carves the change,,,the pull of the unknown, and the hope that what i dont know yet might somehow turn out to be much better and greater than what i have got used to for so long...
Monday 8 February 2010
Books ,,,and Romance
I was reading that beautifully written book called the love of her life by harriet evans, which is about love, hurt, betrayal, friendship, death and facing fears, written in such a way that one just becomes addicted to finishing it. Looking at my bookshelf which has more than one of those heartachingly beaytifully written thick romance novels, i realized just how addicted one can become to these kind of books....but why is that?is it maybe because we are missing that kind of love and friendship in the real life, is it because the characters of our books are flawless(because they are not)and always get their happy ending?or is maybe because we have given up on real and honest love in the real life and have submitted ourselves to being content with the characters, scenes and the lifes being drawn in our pages, living with them in their imaginative world instead of our reality.Now you could argue, a friend of mine insists that there is nothing called the "big love" like its being presented in books and movies, that love has just become another cliche, a commercialized merchandise,one of those elements which are an extra in a relationship not a basic.(is that true?)
Another friend of mine on the other hand believes that every romantically written book is based on a long honest and suffering experience, a faithful believer in romance,following the: love will come to you when you are ready for it, she would never ever read a romance where the ending doesnt turn out to be happy one, reading the last page at first helps;).(if thats not romantic:))
so what is it really?why do we have such a craving for romances why do we keep reading them although sometimes we know that nothing similar could possibly happen on our doorstep.How come we read books only to start imagining what might or might not happen to us, as if the pages of that book, fire up an illusional dream in us and give us a renewed hope, a renewed sense of optimism that everything might turn out the way we wish for after all.
Why does every, and each one of us knowingly or subconciously wish and dream to be THAT katy, or that lizzie, or that nicole,,,why do we say we dont believe in love that we dont trust in it, when at the same time we keep reading the perfect love scenarious? Are we making everything harder for ourselves on purpose, are we confronting ourselves with the perfect lives only to compare them and minimilize ours in comparison?is that why we are so hypocritical about love and love books??maybe it is,,,maybe we keep reading them, because its wishful thinking ,,,and maybe its because we have already stopped believing that the perfect love will show up in our life, maybe we are just trying to make ourselves feel better by blaming that xy book cover and saying: "see that never ever happened or will happen to me...."
Another friend of mine on the other hand believes that every romantically written book is based on a long honest and suffering experience, a faithful believer in romance,following the: love will come to you when you are ready for it, she would never ever read a romance where the ending doesnt turn out to be happy one, reading the last page at first helps;).(if thats not romantic:))
so what is it really?why do we have such a craving for romances why do we keep reading them although sometimes we know that nothing similar could possibly happen on our doorstep.How come we read books only to start imagining what might or might not happen to us, as if the pages of that book, fire up an illusional dream in us and give us a renewed hope, a renewed sense of optimism that everything might turn out the way we wish for after all.
Why does every, and each one of us knowingly or subconciously wish and dream to be THAT katy, or that lizzie, or that nicole,,,why do we say we dont believe in love that we dont trust in it, when at the same time we keep reading the perfect love scenarious? Are we making everything harder for ourselves on purpose, are we confronting ourselves with the perfect lives only to compare them and minimilize ours in comparison?is that why we are so hypocritical about love and love books??maybe it is,,,maybe we keep reading them, because its wishful thinking ,,,and maybe its because we have already stopped believing that the perfect love will show up in our life, maybe we are just trying to make ourselves feel better by blaming that xy book cover and saying: "see that never ever happened or will happen to me...."
Sunday 7 February 2010
hurt,,,anger,,,sadness,,,
All three of them very powerful, prevailing waves each on its own,,,and yet together they seem like an untamed hurricane, ready to strike, to flood to drown,,,to expode into millions of shatters, taking along with them everything hidden in our souls.
How many times have we been so angry, that we coudnt speak couldnt breathe, when it actually felt like we were going to suffocate under the pressure of not exploding?
How many times have been so hurt or so sad that it seemed to us like our chests and bodies hurt and ached physically, how many times have we felt so weak, so drained that we could barely walk or stand or move?Was it a heartbreak?A death of a beloved?The loss of a friendship?Of a home?Plenty of occasions and numerous opportunities,,,
and how many times have we actually felt all three of them together?How many times have you felt so angry that you could actually scream in the middle of an overcrowded place, how many times have you been so hurt and angry at the time that you just coudnt keep quiet, that you had to justify, to talk to defend, to shout and scream from the top of your loungs all the while feeling so hurt and so sad, so unfairly done by, that you just couldnt see or breathe, that tears were just streaming down your face and you didnt understand where they came from because you knew that your anger should be leaving you incapable of crying?
How many times have you just thought and screamed and argued and cried for hours without feeling any relieve without feeling the pain getting less or the anger fading away,,,when you have been robbed out of sleep, and just lay down there thinking wanting to pick up the phone and continue screaming more and more, how many times have you just wept and wept, without feeling any understanding, without feeling any allevation or any justice being brought to your case??And how many times did you just supress it all inside you pretending it was not there that a part of it was deflated,,, that you were okay, waking up in the morning, smiling and telling yourself, that you shouldnt have felt what you had felt, and that nothing was worth it anyway....only to feel it all bottled up inside you waiting for another opportunity to explode in tears and words,,,wondering where so much anger and sadness could possibly come from and whether or not and how and if someday it would go away,,,,and if yes then where to?where would so much hurt possible be send to???was there any place in this world that could take so much anger so much hurt so mcuh sadness at the same time??
How many times have we been so angry, that we coudnt speak couldnt breathe, when it actually felt like we were going to suffocate under the pressure of not exploding?
How many times have been so hurt or so sad that it seemed to us like our chests and bodies hurt and ached physically, how many times have we felt so weak, so drained that we could barely walk or stand or move?Was it a heartbreak?A death of a beloved?The loss of a friendship?Of a home?Plenty of occasions and numerous opportunities,,,
and how many times have we actually felt all three of them together?How many times have you felt so angry that you could actually scream in the middle of an overcrowded place, how many times have you been so hurt and angry at the time that you just coudnt keep quiet, that you had to justify, to talk to defend, to shout and scream from the top of your loungs all the while feeling so hurt and so sad, so unfairly done by, that you just couldnt see or breathe, that tears were just streaming down your face and you didnt understand where they came from because you knew that your anger should be leaving you incapable of crying?
How many times have you just thought and screamed and argued and cried for hours without feeling any relieve without feeling the pain getting less or the anger fading away,,,when you have been robbed out of sleep, and just lay down there thinking wanting to pick up the phone and continue screaming more and more, how many times have you just wept and wept, without feeling any understanding, without feeling any allevation or any justice being brought to your case??And how many times did you just supress it all inside you pretending it was not there that a part of it was deflated,,, that you were okay, waking up in the morning, smiling and telling yourself, that you shouldnt have felt what you had felt, and that nothing was worth it anyway....only to feel it all bottled up inside you waiting for another opportunity to explode in tears and words,,,wondering where so much anger and sadness could possibly come from and whether or not and how and if someday it would go away,,,,and if yes then where to?where would so much hurt possible be send to???was there any place in this world that could take so much anger so much hurt so mcuh sadness at the same time??
What is it about London?
What is it,,about this diverse metropolitan city engrossed in fog, rain and coldness that makes one love it for everything and yet no reason in particular?
Its busy and crowded, people are grumpy, passing you by, without smiling without even noticing your existence, finding it hard to apologize even after they half kick you off the narrow street, jump infront of you in the long morning coffee queue, and fail to say sorry after they take your seat on the overcrowded tube,,,,and yet,,,and yet there is something unreasonably attractive and conspicuous about it.
Maybe its just the sense of belonging, no matter where you are walking through the empty old streets during the nights, along the riverbank, merging in the busy crowd and clubbind scenery in Piccadilly in the West End, or jogging through Hyde Park, sitting on a near by bench to the serpentine, no matter where, in london you just belong. It doesnt matter where you are from, what language you speak, to which Diner's you go, or whether you like your coffee with skimmed soya milk, or extra foam and double choco chunk cookie on the side, you just belong. You are one of those many head walking down bond streets, trying to catch the rest of the wintersales, or one of these people sitting in the tall office buildings in canary wharf waiting for the time to strike 5pm so you can exchange your highheels for the comfy white trainers,run down the tube station, mendling your way through the thousands of commuters, reading the evening standard, listening to horrible music on their i-pod or taking a quick nap, and head for your daily aerobic, yoga or pilate classes awaiting you in the gym.
It doesnt matter whether you are one of those crowds who are invincible to the below zero temperatures waiting infront of a club for many many hours to be let in, get themselves drunk, and wake up the next morning not remembering where they were, or what they had done, and whether or not they were at home,,,,,or whether you were one of those who spend their time after work, looking the shelves up and down in waterstones in search of a great book to read at home whilst you lie on that comfy sofa and have a warm mocha,,,either way in london it doesnt matter. It doesnt concern anybody but you,,,its your life ,,, your world ,,,yourself ,,,,and you cant help but thinking that somehow you always belong....
Its busy and crowded, people are grumpy, passing you by, without smiling without even noticing your existence, finding it hard to apologize even after they half kick you off the narrow street, jump infront of you in the long morning coffee queue, and fail to say sorry after they take your seat on the overcrowded tube,,,,and yet,,,and yet there is something unreasonably attractive and conspicuous about it.
Maybe its just the sense of belonging, no matter where you are walking through the empty old streets during the nights, along the riverbank, merging in the busy crowd and clubbind scenery in Piccadilly in the West End, or jogging through Hyde Park, sitting on a near by bench to the serpentine, no matter where, in london you just belong. It doesnt matter where you are from, what language you speak, to which Diner's you go, or whether you like your coffee with skimmed soya milk, or extra foam and double choco chunk cookie on the side, you just belong. You are one of those many head walking down bond streets, trying to catch the rest of the wintersales, or one of these people sitting in the tall office buildings in canary wharf waiting for the time to strike 5pm so you can exchange your highheels for the comfy white trainers,run down the tube station, mendling your way through the thousands of commuters, reading the evening standard, listening to horrible music on their i-pod or taking a quick nap, and head for your daily aerobic, yoga or pilate classes awaiting you in the gym.
It doesnt matter whether you are one of those crowds who are invincible to the below zero temperatures waiting infront of a club for many many hours to be let in, get themselves drunk, and wake up the next morning not remembering where they were, or what they had done, and whether or not they were at home,,,,,or whether you were one of those who spend their time after work, looking the shelves up and down in waterstones in search of a great book to read at home whilst you lie on that comfy sofa and have a warm mocha,,,either way in london it doesnt matter. It doesnt concern anybody but you,,,its your life ,,, your world ,,,yourself ,,,,and you cant help but thinking that somehow you always belong....
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