Thursday, June 28, 2012

THURSDAY TALES

Today morning has broken at noon and Mr coffee has spoken. No ice-cream for ice-coffee but it's good enough what I have got.

Lately, I've been thinking.

 Are people either gatherers or hunters? As in prehistory communities and families where divided into those two occupations. Gatherers being mainly women, staying near the homestead, gathering berries with the old and unable, socially damned man, waiting for the hunters to come back home with some kind of dead animal/s that will hopefully be enough to feed the whole village of three houses withholding 17 children. Hunters being a job associated to men, able, fearless, skillful. No gatherer was prices and toasted to, given rest and sex for what he/she has done. Hunters were the celebrated ones, priced with skulls of the hunted. Are people divided in the 21st century into gatherers and hunters? I ask myself. Gatherers being the one that the world wouldn't spin without, the beckbone of community and economy and hunters being the business man, per-say. What is it you want to be? In which do you take more pride? Are you happy where you were seated?

Are people either sailors or prostitutes? Both being one of the oldest trades. Here to mention, then the prostitutes were the only literate, interesting woman with something to say and something to offer, in this case, their body and sexuality. Are people nowadays divided into these two? Sailors being the ones that are taking the adventure while still working hard feeling masculine. Going to the unkown, new horizons being their favorite kind of horizons. Running away from something...or towards something. Being a nomad of the sea, no home, no woman or kids to speak of. People who are comfortable to sit alone, in the small cabin with their joy and pain, not shy from their own thoughts. Or are they prostitutes, going for the safe. Enjoying the intellectual forever trying to find an equal. People who'd give themselves for a good and honest conversation and for the plain reason that opposites attract are mermaids of the sailor people. Impressed and fascinated by the people and places they have been and seen, quenching to do it themselves. Listening intently, yet there is a lot, much more, they have to offer.

I've also been thinking of diamonds.

It is a universally know truth that diamonds are forever and that every girl should have one, and it should be her best friend. Let me stop you right there! It's a bloody stone! A transparent one for that matter. Romantic in a sense, clear, a color of the mirror or her tears-for whatever you want to go, reflecting and passing all the light of the universe. A token of eternal love. But why, I know how, and will tell you in a minute, why are they are associated to girls? Men, kings and the influential ones of some kind of status first started covering their crowns and attires into these stones. Women were plainly dressed at the time, if not poorly compered to the bling bling men used to fashion. Men started fashion and leopard print style, crocodile shoes. Men were the first to wear heels, and make-up and wigs. They used to shave their own, healthy hair in order to wear someone else's grey and curled on the sides, showing status. Men are the first fashion designers, men are the ones who wrote of the most romantic loves. All the fairy-tales. Every love story written today can be traced back to Shakespeare, 'Notebook' was written by a man. Women wanted to be equal, wanted the shine and beauty, they took over, made it out of all proportion, men moved onto the Industrial Revolution, fast cars and plastic blonds. But we are alive today and still women want to be equal to  men, in all aspects, so I ask you ladies, don't you have better ambitions? Get your diamond yourself! 


I've been also thinking of 'Girls Talk'


I analyzed my friendships and asked myself why do I have more guy friends than girl friends, and came to some kind of conclusion. I wouldn't continua interconnecting with a man after the introductions if I do not find him interesting in some way. While to the girls I am introduced via someone and conversation is a necessary one, 'girl talk', 'beauty talk' revealing very little. With men there are no useless compliments, the conversation is honest, interesting, about anything, witty...more fluid. There is more conversational tools in my disposal when talking to the opposite sex. I can be a woman too in that dialogue. And of course, there is that ace in my sleeve to fall back on to, flirting, touching of his hand, gazing through his eyes, prolonged laughs. However, when talking to a woman, if for the first time, conversation develops slowly besides hopefully honest compliments. If that awkward, on my part, stage is passed, complaining takes places and talks of a men in our lives, as if there is nothing else going on, as if we are not worth it of anything else. Even if we are to talk about dreams and wishful thinking, we'll end up on future problems. Although, it is much harder to swipe a fellow woman off her feet if I find her interesting, inspiring and want her to like me. Especially if she is older, lady and someone I look up to. It takes more effort to make her interested in me then with a man. I am not proud of this attitude but I am honest. Even though I am trying to treat all my friends equally, kindly, without judgement this came to be a case. Just to cover my big mouth, I am generalizing. 


I know its a long one, this one, and that I could have made at least three blog posts out of it, but as much as you find it hard to sit and read, my concentration spam on 35*c is the same. 


What have you been thinking of lately? What's going on in your pretty heads?  



    

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

CURRENTLY


  • Writing this after one too many glasses of red. Not responsible for what I say nor for the grammar
  • Listening to 'Only Love'- having no particular feelings about the song
  • Shopping exhausts me 
  • Bad pudding 
  • Have no answers to all the information interwoven with the feelings 
  • Truth making things clearer, making me scream aloud, giving it to my body, but before, I'd give my soul
  • After all your lies, you are still lovable 
  • What is it you want from me? Do I want to know? 
  • I'll stay in the darkness with you
  • Someone, something, tell me what am I supposed to feel. Anger? Release? Damnation? Another word? 
  • How many shoulders will I break, to how many will I have to represent sins?
  • You are beggar and a liar and I'm just a girl 
  • We fit so well. Good conversation is the ultimate aphrodisiac 
  • I don't want to be you or you, I am happy with my issues
  • I need no fuss, I need relax, you are going to get burned. 
  • I am lucky you didn't slip me a smile coz I am not ready to pay that price. 
  • You slip your hand under my skirt and it doesn't hurt
  • I want to gather around fire and tell stories
  • People are either gatherers or hunters, sailors or prostitutes-some collecting needs doing after he sails away
  • Everything I do shows my hand, everything is a self-portrait, everything is a diary, everything is so typical of me- no surprises 
  • I'm prepared for any season, I'm prepared to stay

Saturday, June 23, 2012

TODAY'S GREATEST LOVE STORY

To be totally sincere,

I want to celebrate my life & make an exhibition out of my existence. I want people to know I am here and about me. Otherwise I'd be just be taking up space & wasting air. That is not fair to this plant nor to the confusing product of the process that is me.

I want to eat well & cheaply, sleep well & warm together alone and love. I want to love the wind with its desired directions no matter if I am ready for the storm. I do not want to know when and how fast I will hit the ground or will I forever and a day stay in love. I want to listen to good music whether my neighbors like it or not. I know that whoever comes along is the right person, whatever happens is the only thing that could possibly happen, whenever it starts its the right time & when its over its over. I also know that sex is easy but I want to be romantic with you. I want to be around books. I do not know why I like you and I don't care. I know I am sapiosexual. I do not fight fair, I fight to win. I am not what happened to me, I am who I choose to be. I have no fear of depths, I have a fear of shallow living. I know I am not mad because I am able to communicate my ideas. My flash is a great poem to the universe and my lover. Even if you cannot see, there is a great garden inside me. I still find it strange how I can be anything at all. I also found out that I do not need to be perfect so I can be good now. I do not shrink from fantastic.

My existence is incredible and today I am a TIGER, be AFRAID!

Monday, June 18, 2012

I LIKE IT. WHAT IS IT?

Hope. Everyone is looking for one, searching for something to believe in. Hope is everywhere for those who are ready to listen with their minds, hope is the air, in the water, in your shortcomings, but not in me. The minds that are ever getting thinner.

Would you dare to hold on to what you believe when the sea rocks you and wind bends you and the words hurt you and undress you. Or will you dare to give up your morals to take me in? Whatever you choose is going to be so typical of you. Don't throw everything away, take something in.

Will you let jealousy blind you today or envy drive you? Very patriotic of you or not at all. Nothing is written, expect your destiny. Yeah, I like a strange boy like you. My brain tells me you are dangerous, my belly tells me you are hard to find. Have you been eating rosebuds again?

Come home, go to your cave, do what you need to do. Close your eyes to see and love without agenda, without reservation, as if you were never been hurt before. Be brave. Get stupid. We all go to heaven. Such a shame.

I, I can't love because love & pain go hand in hand, the romantic way. But if you are down you can come to me. Its all about joy, YAY time and play ignorance to the ignorant. Its true, make your move, don't be sorry. I speak because I can and am not responsible for what you understand. I open my mouth, bees come out. I trust you enough to listen to the buzz, I don't care what you have to say. Let me let you.

I remember, I used to be so calm. Now I cannot figure out what is it I believe.

Thursday, June 14, 2012

WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?

Block my ears, alter my vision, anyway I won't hear what you have to say. Romanticize everything to me, be irrational with me, fill the valley of my heart.

...and if I die, don't stand on my grave and weep. But instead take that soul I gave you into your mouth and swallow me whole. I know you know too much, that you experienced too much, that you sleep with death and you don't need to apologize for it. But you have glorious curls and you & I will be alright.

I am a lion hearted girl and you are a lion man. While I waste my life between the pages of the books, experiencing adolescence by association, fall all over in love with fictional characters and say my goodbyes to the fallen heroes, yank me out of it, show me how to tie a bow tie and tell me again why doesn't the boat sink.

Let's lie down on the wet grass with no shoes on and rip the clouds apart with our minds. Don't speak. Or tell me of knots & bows of your family. And I'll tell of my dreams that are like red wine spilled into water, becoming something else. We could be anything.Let's journey back and I'll show you how it all began.

 One Sunday, one cafe, one not necessary very beautiful woman, one fine day.One girl dancing to 'New York, New York.' Let's just stay and not go back to yesterday. Then we were different, then we didn't know of each other's existence and of all the miles we walked under the same sky. Today is so much better.

Monday, June 11, 2012

THIS MAN WILL NOT SHOOT

Running after your first million. To get it and make another two out of that one. But what my heart wants you can't buy, its evil expensive.

While you were getting there so you'd be, I dreamt a different dream. I developed my secret world. I grow up to be an exotic flower. I made other plans. I danced in the rain falling from the glorious heights while you were too concerned over your tailored suit getting wet. You were too scared to get soaked while I only wanted to have dinner and dance.  

I gotta go now, Neverland is waiting for me. My arms are not waiting for you anymore. I am not drinking bad wine anymore.

I am sure there are other girls and sure, they are beautiful, but they are different. They are either nobodies' or everybodies'.  She spills coffee when she makes it for you in the morning. You wake up alone and you can not tell me, you can not open your heart. Each room either too little or too much smells of me. You are alone in your guy's apartment. There are loads of those too.

Love was just a word for you, an illusion. Hand in hand, hugging me while I am deep asleep and kisses in the morning, is something else.





Sunday, June 10, 2012

WHAT'S ART?

What is art for you?

  • Something?
  • Anything?
  • Nothing?

I don't mean pretty. Beauty is not always goodness. Not necessarily, anyway. Not in my case. I mean, does it move you. Does it awake the secrets in you? Do you experienced it through your consciousness or subconsciousness or you don't know?Is it bottled and you have to let it breath before indulging in it? Is it food? Is it through the platform nine and three quarters or on the other side of the wardrobe? Would you dip your feet in ink and let your heart lead you? Is art only in the National Gallery for you or the design on the moving bus too? Do you stop to read the messages over the walls in the public toilet? Is art the deepest of self expression for you or is it bullshit? Would you splash the secrets and passions, let your inner child without fear of failure run wild over the canvas? Would you pour out your soul through your fingers on the blank page? Or dance like no one is watching? Is loving someone and let love you art? What do you think of photography?  

You do not need to articulate it words, you may draw, or move your body. Just do something! Anything! 

Make art! 

Friday, June 8, 2012

WE SHOULD TALK

We should talk about madness, and if you don't care looking like a fool for love. And what sustains us. We should talk about beauty and terror. Ecstasy and agony. Greek Gods and mortals. We should talk about silent movies and symphonies. You should tell me a secret, what makes you so cynical and who hurt you. We should talk about the cartoons and our favorite words. We should talk about history and geography. And euphoria. And about the last time we cried. You should tell me a joke and sing me a verse of your favorite song. We should talk about maps and dreams. We should talk online and meet for a beer. We should talk about the difference between ale and lager. We should talk about happy places and sleepless nights. We should talk about our best friends and reminisce. And our heroes. We should talk about the light and auroras. We should talk about why we think we are becoming our parents. We should talk about Earth. And you could tell me things I don't know. We should talk about astronauts and caterpillars. We should talk about death. And why do you like the sea so much. We should talk about our beliefs and nevers.  We should talk about home and snow. You could describe me what and how far can you see from your roof and what do you think about art. We should talk about being old and how young we are today.  We should talk about all the kids we are going to have and what kind of vegetables we would grow if we had a garden. And about books and life. We should talk about wine and food. Boats and planes. Stars and the smell of petrol. We should talk about our great loves and great fears. Handwritten letters and poetry. About Dante and passers by. We should talk about our childhoods and hoods. Butterflies, colors and how we broke our limbs. Carelessness and money. We should talk about what we have for breakfast and Napoleon. We should talk about hidden treasures and forgotten worlds. We should talk about weather and nothing in particular.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

ALL THAT I NEED

I need:


  • A cup of positive attitude each morning to go with my coffee
  • Someone to remind me of my dreams
  • Someone to drive me home
  • Colors to draw
  • All the notebooks that I fill for one day I might need it
  • My friends to care about
  • My dog to be happy around
  • A tooth brush
  • My books and all the books in the world
  • Strangers to tell me things I cannot see that are in front of me
  • Clever words
  • Work to feel accomplished after completion and little money to buy pretty things
  • Someone to be there when I break
  • Sleep 
  • To go to Paris
  • My diary to empty my skull, keep secrets and write hopes in
  • Red wine 
  • The fountain pan that makes my handwriting even more my own
  • Music to fill the spaces
  • Dancing 
  • Someone to call me 'princess'
  • A dear lough
  • My ever expanding wardrobe to play dress up
  • To win 
  • A garden
  • Firs kisses and all the ones that come afterwards
  • Dates to be excited about
  • Orgasms  
  • Butterflies in me stomach that make me feel like a little girl
  • Full moon to keep me grounded
  • Sky to feel intimidated by
  • Bad days in order to appreciate the good ones
  • I need to do less overthinking and daydream more
  • Sun + cocktails
  • Joy and crazy 
  • Intellectual conversations for they are my aphrodisiac 
  • Silences
  • Hugs
  • Time and someone to lose myself with, occasionally
  • Someone to need me too
  • I want to need less. 

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

LOVE IS NOISE AND EVERYTHING ELSE TOO

I speak the truth, it is not always kind, and I am not sorry. But there is more to the spaces screaming of what I do not speak. It is another story here, another one in my clenched fists, and yet another in what I do. I write to empty my skull, put down issues so they won't paralyse me. I write to remember because I can not stand the thought of forgetting the all I have seen, the all I have heard. I wish never to forget but to shine in the afterglow of my words. I wish for many things. Nicest things.

Yes, it might be about you, but is for me.

Give me a cigarette, for what I wrote last is vulnerable in my head. Its what makes me weak. It is not what I said. Touch me to hear me. Kiss me behind my knees, its what makes my legs run. Its what makes me strong. I spilled the words and now my fingers are too wide apart to collect them and put them back in the safety of my left front lobe. Go on pretending I never thought of it, ever. Keeping my issues strong too.

It is another story of my smile. Of the dinosaurs's and gardens in my head. Old fashion movies, is just the piece of me. It is another story of my eyes that are the greenest springs and fear what they cannot see. It is another story of how I found strength to get up the eighth time and commit the nine crimes. But that doesn't define me. We all make mistakes. We are all made of the same stuff, the same stars.

It is what you want to hear. What you want to see. I cannot blame you for it, or judge your invalid cinema of ridicule your shows for I didn't feel anything when attended to what you wanted me to see.

It is the connection when all is quite. Can you sit alone with yourself? Can you sit in silence with me forever ago and know what I am feeling, behind the noise of what we might say? Words can hurt. Don't make me cry, make me laugh. Touch me to hear me.

Can I really explain? I try, I try, everyday. It is never the whole truth, it will never be.

Maybe this all doesn't make sense, doesn't mean anything. Fuck you, they are MY words and I will never stop!

Saturday, June 2, 2012

CURRENTLY

  • Ciao Bella!
  •  The stars, the Sun are shining for me, golden yellow
  • Somebody, write me a song
  • I am tired of being a person I want to meet, aren't there, somewhere, more mes? Please leave a comment if you think you are (:
  • Everyday is a new day and each day I choose happiness and the tomorrow is going to be amazing
  • I am not worried, I'll get to happy soon enough, but for now I am enjoying the inspiration that comes from sadness
  • Just because I am hurting doesn't mean I am hurt (yeah, listening to Coldplay)
  • 'My fake plants died because I did not pretend to water them'-story of my life.
  • I just want to make pretty things, get enough sleep and someone to kiss my face
  • No skinny dipping alone, please. Safety measures.
  • Grand ideas that needs doing. Daydreaming...please wait
  • Yesterday was FRIDAY FRIDAY FRIDAY when I asked Fate to dance, what a lady-like thing to do
  • Need some more passport stamps
  • Good vibes 
  • Music 
  • In love with people I haven't met yet. Reveal yourselves!

Friday, June 1, 2012

(NOT) THE END

Would you believe me if you saw me now? Would you be able to trust me again? For the last time? After all the 'goodbyes' and 'good lucks' I proclaimed?

Would you dare to remember the evening when I told you I run away? Not too far. Stepping into my shadow, into the necessity of the breath. I guess you don't. You missed the class when they taught there are those who stay. That was the class before the one where they passed on the wisdom of the lines of suffering. The lines that are similar to those of your palm, mapping the destiny, some believe.

But would you have the courage to believe in me if you saw me again?

Where we were, where we used to collide is now only these lines I am pouring out. Bravely, and stupidly. Sleeping alone. I believe that even if you are not sleeping alone in your bed or sleeping on my side trying to saver the last of my smell that I left on the left pillow, you are disagreeing with the world. You must, I need you to.

I know I leave pieces of myself behind, not to haunt you, but so I'd be lighter for the wind to take me places. So I'd exclaim 'I am alive' outside your eye-lids that you shut so hard while holding your groin. With all your might holding onto the lines of my body.

For whatever is going to be our closing paragraph, and whoever is going to be a fallen hero, after all the remembering, shoulds and coulds, after all is changed... it is the first day of my life. I am going to believe. I must. I need to.

PARADISE

I've just finished watching the movie 'The Descendants', George Clooney in the main role. And what an amazing job he has done in this one. But his hair and ability to cry is not what I wanted to talk about. The movie, apart from its story, the dying cheating wife and the father who is trying to keep his head above the waters, inspired me to tell you a little something about the Paradise Island we are all lucky to stay at awhile.

It's a tiny dot on the map, it is so small that every time I encounter the new comers I wonder how did they find it. It is a rock, the locals proudly exclaim that is in a shape of diamond, and maybe it is. Some of them, less travelled and those who don't have a TV for their furniture to point at something, think of it as Atlantis. Maybe its a bit of that too.

However small and in whatever shape, it has been here for a long time to attain a long and rich history and loads of sun. It's sunny throughout the whole year. Even if its not sunny, the yellow stone is all round, you can not escape it even if you try. But when it is sunny and the blue skies are clear, it is golden. Its obligatory colours at down and twilight, and all the transformations of light during the day are magical. Sea is the Mediterranean, wet, blue and salty. Forever mirroring the sky above and withholding the horizon where the two meet, kissing the rock.

I could go into Health care, and no politics, safety and no crime, economic stability, but I want to tell you about the Paradise and how much we, I sometimes, most of the time, are taking it for granted.

Sea, beach, beach clubs and pubs are hundred meters down, two corners and a street away. And yet how often do we go down? And of course they are those who'd rather stay at the pool?! At times I get so lazy but when I remember where I come from, and to be fair, most of us, and how far the sea was, its what makes me put on a beading suit. Makes me angry. We need friends from afar to come and visit us for us to go around the island and show them the wonders and beauty. And we so proudly talk about it and point at things as if we are holding the ownership.

Life is amazing. For those who want work, there is work. If you work you've got your pocket money. You can buy pretty things for yourself, go for dinners with whatever view you are in the mood for. Or you can go dance your feet off like there is no tomorrow. It's relaxed, too relaxed. Everything can be done tomorrow or the other day. We can and we don't need to really. Maybe we shall, but let's see. I and 3 other people on the island make plans, the rest live by the tides.

Skinny dipping, coffee and the best cake on top of the world, peace and quite in the narrow streets anti-arrow designed, bout ride to sister islands, cocktail happy hour, Guinness at the Irish pub and karaoke in the Scottish pub, barbecue-everywhere,all kinds of good people, Luna Park, Splash & Fun, swimming with the dolphins or tuna or plane racks from the Second World War, shopping anywhere, McDonald's at the airport. It's got everything for those with little bit of imagination, wild inner child, creativity and openness to new old things.

Me too, I forget to remind myself how lucky I am, how very very very lucky. To have the opportunity to walk and jog (I never do that) next to the sea any given day. To breath in the vitamin D and just be happy about it. To slow it down and appreciate everything, more, even the cloud's shape.

But we too have the same shitty problems like everyone of you around the world. There are boring jobs here too. Break ups, cheating, death, overthinking, we've got it all. However, we are not the first people, there is a whole million of years of people who have had the same problems, same questions, same thoughts. Everything has been already done and asked, answers are written somewhere too. The intellectual knowledge and emotional knowledge are two completely different spheres light years apart and that is why we are still asking the same questions and falling in love over and over again.And we should! Never stop! Except we here go about our ordinary business, trying to make it extraordinary whilst sun is beating our foreheads and waves our knees.

We, I am not complaining. I just wanted to pin this down as a reminder. You should too, count your blessings, it makes it what you have ENOUGH. And that is what we all want, just the 'enough'. This island is enough!