Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Something's changed. Slightly.

I feel zen. It's weird, after weeks and even months full of ups and downs, moments of emptiness, I don't feel unsettled anymore, in this moment. Just a couple of days ago I was in agony. I couldn't sense the purpose of my life anymore. Empty. Drained. Lonely. A lonely heart. Incomplete. I don't think I found this thing that would complete me now, but I feel better. That's a start.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Ways in... Ways out.

I am trying to find a way out now. Trapped in a situation where we both seek to get away from it, our physical bond makes it so hard to find the enf of this mazy tunnel. Ours is a weird physical connection. Mixed with very deep emotions that should be forbidden for you and me. We allow each other to be ourselves when intertwined in the most passionate positions. A sacred moment smack-bang amidst a purely physical interaction. It confuses you and especially me. I can't say us, although somewhere inside me I wish to name you and me 'us' and get over with the tension that this impossibility to find a word for what you and me are, creates. 

I wish it was love and in the name of love when my eyes meet yours. The innominate feelings that float around us betray the silence and speak of love or something as big already. 
I love you but I don't love you. 

I desire you passionately but when I look at you I don't see that you see what I could be for you. You don't seem to know, when you see me.

I look at your tired eyes and worry for they have long lost their colours. I miss the muddy moss green ocean that I have never seen glistening and you respond with a clueless but warm gaze with a hint of curiosity of why I am always thoughtful,a precocious grandmotherly girlwoman. Your insatiable desire to taste skin.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Intellect and Love

"Intellect and love are made of different materials. Intellect ties people in knots and risks nothing, but love dissolves all tangles and risks everything. Intellect is always cautious, advises, 'Beware too much ecstasy,' whereas love says,'Oh,never mind! Take the plunge!' Intellect does not easily break down, whereas love can effortlessly reduce itself to rubble. But treasures are hidden among ruins. A broken heart hides treasures." E. Shafak

2012. Anew.

Love at first sight. I don't believe it is likely to happen, but whenever I met someone special, someone that would warm my heart and excite me, by making small bubbles in prismatic colours burst inside my stomach, a certain shade in my emotions in that very moment made me pause, thinking: Oh. There he is. It is not easy to describe what it feels like to fall in love. Sometimes the arbitrariness of the matchmaking of love is just inexplicable, too. You wonder how two different persons of different backgrounds suddenly enter this cloud of forgiveness, happiness and neverending sexual desire (at least in the beginning). I encountered many different forms of love in my relatively short life - I don't think I can consider myself as wise enough to have reached the end of my journey of finding love (or exploring all the ways I can love), but there are a few true and valid experiences.
It happens that you fall in love very quickly. These encounters aren't always only about the passion and copulation cravings. I met someone a while ago and the moment I met him, I was saying to myself: Oh. There he is. Without being too interested, however I asked him a couple of questions (it was a sunday, late brunch with a group of friends, we had spent a very funny night out altogether, except of him) and paved the way for his interest in me and soon, a few days after that first encounter we met again. And our interest in each other overwhelmed us so much, that I felt like I had to give him my love and everything that will make him happy. Overwhelmed by our affection and blinded by the glances we stole from each other's hearts and the beauty and sincerety, that we saw, I lost track of time and concurrently I was afraid that time was too short to grace us with eternal love, although in those moments that we spent together everything quoth of sweet sensations forevermore. 
Breaking away from this love was hard. Very hard. It promised everything and like a dream, for one moment in a life of 20 and more years I was thinking that it might be true what lovers sometimes say, you can fall in love and it' feels right because it is easy and sincere, albeit only when it's easy and sincere you fall in love. 
I wanted to lose this belief in this castle in the air, this figment of imagination that betrayed me so abominably. And the sudden decision of him not to carry on on this wave of happiness left me wounded and knocked unconscious only with the piercing pain of a broken heart to remind me of my illusory dream. I had to walk away agonized from this showplace of bonafide yet short-lived love. Now this happened two winters ago. And although my experiences have enriched me and taught me more about life I can still not say that I am impervious to do that same mistake all over again. I can still remember the dead faint that came over me at the time when the surreality of my genuine love gradually dawned on me. I hated it, couldn't fight it, melodramatically cried myself into sleep and committed many more immature crimes to my health and mental sanity. However after I went cold turkey I looked at things very levelheadedly. The worst was, I had to learn to love my self, the person I was, and I simply couldn't, at first. I went through a phase of modern self-castigation and met people who were as hurt from their own naïveté as I was. Our biggest problem and what spawned the heaviest repulsion against ourselves was that our hearts were still apt to feel and vulnerable enough to be tortured. Forlornness spread and the chances were low to overpower this weakness. There was no substitute word for weakness then, as we were yet too weak to turn this peculiarity of ours to a strength. One day, however, I remember it was a very bright day, my thoughts were clear and I was relatively worriless, I light-heartedly cast off the grey and shabby cloak that was worn out by my ulterior thoughts and cravings for revenge on the world. Therefore one other truth of epistemic value that this love taught me was that, along with its swiftness, only those minutes, hours, days, weeks and years that pass relentlessly can soothe and eventually heal your heart and soul substance. However not without leaving scars behind.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Goodness.

I don't know if I possess the right abilities and qualities to be called a good person. 
But raised with persons who always loved to vividly discuss injustice and justice, I assume that I learned from early on to assume what is right and what's wrong. Later in life, after I left home, I traveled to places where I saw injustice spread like a disease and captivating individuals in their own misery. I have met people who are actively trying to do good for those who are trapped in their lives of no good. But still; I am struggling with being good myself. 
Dorian Gray hid away his self-image in a dark place, he didn't want to face what he became, enjoying himself in the limelight of other people's attention and awe for his flawlessness. I am not good either. And I know that. But at least I have this image of myself clearly visible opposite me whenever I do bad. And it has a positive influence on me, really. I see people around me with beautiful faces but something in their eyes is disruptive to their beauty. Like a melodious sweet lullaby sung in a slightly wrong pitch. They hint to the flaws in their insides.

Monday, August 29, 2011

...Old thoughts, later this year

It's springtime and yes, it feels fresh, enlightening and delighting to see my beloved friends and myself blossoming up to our true selves. The colours we are wearing are getting brighter, although I still love to wrap myself up in black like a black widow absorbing the sunrays and their warmth and having the heat constantly on my skin.


It does not mean that I feel sad or have the need to withdraw myself from the rest of the world, but black is my companion and will stay true to me, whenever.


Other colours change, fade or can be so bright that they blind you with their serenity. Stains, clearly visible to others, will betray you and tell blithering stories of their own to the observer.. And can be easily misunderstood.




Yes, the colours.. What colour do I have? Is it this radiant, glowing nuance that I wish it to be, clear and beautiful, with all its flaws and imperfections yet perfect? Have I started to abuse it, with the life that I am living, the people I am surrounding myself with, the music I listen to, the nectars I am drinking to lose myself and get closer to it, have I lost touch to it, does my soul actually want to wear ME right now? The way I am? 

Confusion has begun to disrupt what was once clear to me: who I am, deep down in my heart.