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???

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....

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...

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...."

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??

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....