THE GREAT GATSBY

Two days ago have finished reading 'The Great Gatsby' by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Hurried up before the movie comes out, staring Leonardo DiCaprio. And now I am reading 'Emma' by Jane Austen for the newly formed Book Club, anyone welcome.

Here are some fantastic posters I have found of Great Gatsby. Enjoy.

A GHOST THAT WALKS AND TALKS

Why do I keep good intentions as my most valuable secrets? Stashed deep deep deep under all the colours, under all the make up. A different person in the mirror and a different person in rest of the liars eyes. To which reflection shall I invest my beliefs? Beliefs that I am not lazy, that I can be consistent, that my ideas last and that one day I'll reach and get there when my mum doesn't see it, she knows me best.

Somehow I must have deserved this love of mine or will I have to make amends for what I've got. Life is a tricky business, makes you pay at the end.

Thinking that I should volunteer my time, to him, my friends and parents, get to know my neighbours, participate and be a part of my community whatever side of the world I am, be more considerate of others needs and more sympathetic to others feelings makes me believe that, yes, there is an angel in me that he sees. But I forget this things. Too easily.

He sent me to buy myself coffee, so I did, and came back to the car. Only then did I remember, he likes his tea in the morning. I didn't even ask if he liked some, I didn't buy it for him, and surprised him, showed him that I do think of him too. No, I forgot. Hows that for being the worst person in the world?

I do envy people to whom comes naturally to care for the others, but then I wish, usher them, to be more selfish. While I am too busy having a good day to be concerned for the happy ending. Its nice to be nice, to be kind-confusing me.

Those kept good intentions make me proud on my own, SELFISH. Just how lucky I must be that I've got him to see the good in me, make me a better person, wanting to be the best for him.

I need be better and I can choose that every morning. Keep my promises anyway. It's that easy-I must remember.

OLD BOOK SMELL

Lignin is deprived from the Latin word lignum, meaning wood. Lignin is found in all vascular plants, mostly between the cells, but also within the cells, and in the cell walls. It makes vegetables firm and crunchy, and gives us what we call "fiber" in our food. It functions to regulate the transport of liquid in the living plant, and it enables trees to grow taller and compete for sunshine.

Due to lignin presence in paper, it yellows over time. 

Vanillin is the primary component of the extract of the vanilla bean. Synthetic vanillin, instead of natural vanilla extract, is sometimes used as a flavoring agent in foods, beverages, and pharmaceuticals. 


Making of synthetic vanillin was based on lignin wastes. Lignin-based artificial vanilla flavouring is alleged to have a richer flavour profile. 


And that is why books of yesterday smell of vanilla. 


'Lignin, the stuff that prevents all trees from adopting a weeping habit, is a polymer made up of units that are closely related to vanillin. When made into paper and stored for years, it breaks down and smells good. Which is how divine providence has arranged for secondhand bookstores to smell like good quality vanilla absolute, subliminallym stoking a hunger for knowledge in all of us'
Perfumes: the guide. 

DEAR SCOTT,

Letters of Note: Hemingway to Fitzgerald, 1934

Key West
28 May 1934

Dear Scott:

I liked it and I didn’t. It started off with that marvelous description of Sara and Gerald (goddamn it Dos took it with him so I can’t refer to it. So if I make any mistakes—). Then you started fooling with them, making them come from things they didn’t come from, changing them into other people and you can’t do that, Scott. If you take real people and write about them you cannot give them other parents than they have (they are made by their parents and what happens to them) you cannot make them do anything they would not do. You can take you or me or Zelda or Pauline or Hadley or Sara or Gerald but you have to keep them the same and you can only make them do what they would do. You can’t make one be another. Invention is the finest thing but you cannot invent anything that would not actually happen.

That is what we are supposed to do when we are at our best—make it all up—but make it up so truly that later it will happen that way.

Goddamn it you took liberties with peoples’ pasts and futures that produced not people but damned marvellously faked case histories. You, who can write better than anybody can, who are so lousy with talent that you have to—the hell with it. Scott for gods sake write and write truly no matter who or what it hurts but to do not make these silly compromises. You could write a fine book about Gerald and Sara for instance if you knew enough about them and they would not have any feeling, except passing, if it were true.

There were wonderful places and nobody else nor none of the boys can write a good one half as good reading as one that doesn’t come out by you, but you cheated too damned much in this one. And you don’t need to.

In the first place I’ve always claimed that you can’t think. All right, we’ll admit you can think. But say you couldn’t think; then you ought to write, invent, out of what you know and keep the people’s antecedants straight. Second place, a long time ago you stopped listening except to the answers to your own questions. You had good stuff in too that it didn’t need. That’s what dries a writer up (we all dry up. That’s no insult to you in person) not listening. That is where it all comes from. Seeing, listening. You see well enough. But you stop listening.

It’s a lot better than I say. But it’s not as good as you can do. 

You can study Clausewitz in the field and economics and psychology and nothing else will do you any bloody good once you are writing. We are like lousy damned acrobats but we make some mighty fine jumps, bo, and they have all these other acrobats that won’t jump.

For Christ sake write and don’t worry about what the boys will say nor whether it will be a masterpiece nor what. I write one page of masterpiece to ninety one pages of shit. I try to put the shit in the wastebasket. You feel you have to publish crap to make money to live and let live. All write but if you write enough and as well as you can there will be the same amount of masterpiece material (as we say at Yale). You can’t think well enough to sit down and write a deliberate masterpiece and if you could get rid of Seldes and those guys that nearly ruined you and turn them out as well as you can and let the spectators yell when it is good and hoot when it is not you would be all right.

Forget your personal tragedy. We are all bitched from the start and you especially have to hurt like hell before you can write seriously. But when you get the damned hurt use it—don’t cheat with it. Be as faithful to it as a scientist—but don’t think anything is of any importance because it happens to you or anyone belonging to you. 

About this time I wouldn’t blame you if you gave me a burst. Jesus it’s marvellous to tell other people how to write, live, die etc.

I’d like to see you and talk about things with you sober. You were so damned stinking in N.Y. we didn’t get anywhere. You see, Bo, you’re not a tragic character. Neither am I. All we are is writers and what we should do is write. Of all people on earth you needed discipline in your work and instead you marry someone who is jealous of your work, wants to compete with you and ruins you. It’s not as simple as that and I thought Zelda was crazy the first time I met her and you complicated it even more by being in love with her and, of course you’re a rummy. But you’re no more of a rummy than Joyce is and most good writers are. But Scott, good writers always come back. Always. You are twice as good now as you were at the time you think you were so marvellous. You know I never thought so much of Gatsby at the time. You can write twice as well now as you ever could. All you need to do is write truly and not care about what the fate of it is.

Go on and write.

Anyway I’m damned fond of you and I’d like to have a chance to talk sometimes. We had good times talking. Remember that guy we went out to see dying in Neuilly? He was down here this winter. Damned nice guy Canby Chambers. Saw a lot of Dos. He’s in good shape now and he was plenty sick this time last year. How is Scotty and Zelda? Pauline sends her love. We’re all fine. She’s going up to Piggott for a couple of weeks with Patrick. Then bring Bumby back. We have a fine boat. Am going good on a very long story. Hard one to write.

Always your friend

Ernest

WHAT WE TALK WHEN WE TALK ABOUT LOVE

...to continua with my word obsession. I stumbled upon this list of impeccable words that I just had to share with you guys. Hope you find it exciting as much as I did.

Here we go again:

MAMIHLAPINATAPEI (Yagan, an ingenious language of Tirra del Fugo)- the wordless yet meaningful look shared by two people who desire to initiate something, but are both reluctant to start.

YUANFEN (Chinese) - a relationship by fate or destiny

CAFUNE (Brazilian Portuguese) - the act of tenderly running your fingers through someone's hair.

RETROUVAILLES (French) - the happiness of meeting again after a long time

ILUNGA (Bantu) - a person who is willing to forgive abuse the first time, tolerate it the second time but never a third time.

LA DOULEUR EXQUISE (French) - the heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you can't have

KOI NO YOKAN (Japanese)- the sense upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love

YA'ABURNEE (Arabic)- 'You bury me'. It's a declaration of one's hope that they'll die before another person, because of how difficult it would be to live without them.

FORELSKET (Norwegian) - the euphoria you experience when you're first falling in love

SAUDADE (Portuguese)- the feeling of longing for someone you love and is lost.

COME AS YOU ARE

I have always been fascinated by the flaws.  The uniqueness of someone's awkwardness. The little detail that we are all composed of that makes us truer that the mirror is guilty of, than that of the society is willing to accept. You can't see those in the mirror. There is no such light in the universe that bends for the mirror to reflect. That light is only found in the dark chambers of the human eye looking at you with admiration and pride.

The map of your scars depict the digram of your childhood and all the cool things you thought were then and your tongue is dotted like the universe with your taste that you no need tell me, I want to find them. The curve of your back tells me how hard you work for this and your glasses tell me that you liked playing video games as a kid. Tattoos yell your choices as a young adult and what your passions are, what you believe in-wearing it on your birthday coat, ever expanding ever going south. Let me kiss all of them. Your moles accessories your skin beautifully. Your eye colour and name screams what your parents gave you even before you were you. I want to answer all the questions your bones and gestures seek. I want to be the punctuation of your gaze and wonderment.

I do not want to hang out with Mona Lisa, the modern symbol for perfection. To me you are perfect, wearing your flaws on your sleeve. Do not apologize that you are not perfect because you will never hear me utter those words. I do not want a still-life portrait lying next to me. I want a being that needs a hug and likes sleeping in its socks further from the door because it is safer.

A hole nations came to be because they were running from the flaws of another society and the burden of past and all the 'supposed' and 'propers'. And now that is the greatest nation in the world that we love to hate, called America. I like the flaws of the community too. Gives us something to fight and live for, an imperfection to belong to. I like the misstep that the World War II brought to humanity and the Global Warming that we brought to ourselves. It is not going to do any damage to the planet Earth, its been there floating, we thought silently, for billions and billions of years. This only shows our choices and arrogance  to even begin thinking we can harm it. How silly and brutally honest we are.

All the medical and technological innovations and improvements bring out flaws that we thought genially buried under. Making us ultimate yet I still cannot hide my love for singing even though I am tone deaf. Or someone's scare of Internet. Or phobia of cheese. How varsity we are. How very beautiful and exciting!

BE YOU!

TRUST THE PROCESS

Stand. Respond. Expand. Include. Allow. Forgive. Enjoy. Evolve. Inquire. Accept. Admit. Open Reach out. Speak up. Share. Listen. Support. Welcome. Invest. Breath. Trust the process. Bring on a miracle. Live your art. I love you future: 'The best way to predict future is to invent it'- Alan Kay. Revolution starts here. Play! Clap. Explore. Smile. Run free. Love. Invoke magic. Wonder. Only use your energy in things you believe. A little less conversation, a little more action, please. Say Yes! to new things & people. The world is your playground. Your life is your message to the world, make sure it's inspiring. You have options. 'Walk with the dreamers, the believers, the courageous, the cheerful, the planners, the doers, the successful people with their heads in the clouds and their feet on the ground. Let their spirit ignite a fire within you to leave this world better than when you found it'- Wilfred Peterson. Nothing takes the past away like the future- out with the old, in with the new. Be open to whatever comes next- 'For last year's words belong to last year's language. And next year's words await another voice. And to make an end is to make a beginning'- T.S. Eliot. Don't give everything up-take something in. Do interesting things and interesting things will happen to you. Dear diary, see yesterday. Oh, how I love todays- today is the best day of the week. Dear destiny, I am ready now. Promote optimism. A general rule of life: there is no one to blame. Circumstances will never make me betray my plan for happiness. We all need something to do & someone to love. Live with art, it's good for you. I can always learn new things and think new thoughts. No PASSION without EMOTION, no LOVE without PAIN, no TOGETHER without RESPECT, no ANSWER without QUESTION, no TRUST without EXPERIENCE, no FUTURE without DREAMS. But mainly, stay glassy.




Thanks to workisnotajob.com 

LANGUAGE IN WHICH 'ME' IS CAPITAL

i learned English, so i became. My dreams and daydreams are reviling themselves in English before my inner eye. My thoughts are forming themselves in English. i am in love with the language, with the words and the sentences they make and voids they fill in me. Like the sea fills the voids of the earth. What water gave me is what paper gave me too. Life. Self. The self i am so sure of, for if i had to understand it or explain it, is like water slipping through my fingers. Forever trying to catch it, banding my back and the sound of it breaking under the weight of the feeling. Forever searching.

i learned English and i learned that me has to be capital 'I'. So I became. I became capital, self-important, egoistic, selfish and kind. The only way I can be. I can only be selfishly kind. No return of the same does not hurt me. Because the I is like a temple that lets light through the windows withholding the Venetian glass, dressing me in all divine colours, painting my story where I write people in and write people out. Forever trying to catch the light and trace its points to their origin, but it splits and bends. Mirrors on the walls for the light to reflect. Maybe I am not ready for the answer. Forever searching.

I am the narrative. The only way I can be. Filled with words not facts. That is how I can create and change. How I make my realities which are not matter based and nothing is relevant. Where creatures can steal time, shape it and have a leap year every year. My sense is making itself and my body is silence I keep breaking.

Words help me express. Unyielding structures of my emotions. Writing them down, I empty my skull. Words keep making me who I think I might be. When I read a verse of a genius that seems indifferent to judgement and criticism but cares only of getting his message across, butterflies in my tummy go mental. When I hear profoundly spoken my eyes tear up. I too discovered the beauty of the language that fills the pages of all the books I keep putting against the walls, on the stairs, in the shelves and on the high of my wardrobe full of drawers containing secret compartments. I changed as a by-product of Shakespeare and many before him and those after him.

I love in English. First time I fell in love was in English. Now, I can only say 'I LOVE YOU'  and mean it. Be fully committed to those three words. And now, I love an English man.

11 COMMANDMENTS

1. Work on one thing at a time.
2. Start no more new books, add no more new material to 'Black Spring'
3. Don't be nervous. Work calmly, joyously, recklessly on whatever is in hand.
4. Work according to Program and not according to mood. Stop at the appointed time.
5. When you can't create you can work.
6. Cement a little every day, rather than add new fertilizers.
7. Keep human! See people, go places, drink if you feel like.
8. Don't be a drought-horse! Work with pleasure only.
9. Discard the Program when you feel like it- but go back to it the next day. Concentrate. Narrow down. Exclude. 
10. Forget the books you want to write. Think only of the book you are writing.
11. Write first and always. Painting, music, friends, cinema, all these come afterwards. 

WORK  SCHEDULE

1932-1933

By  Henry Miller Miscellanea  

2012 READING LIST

STICK TO IT, you gorgeous deception!!!!!!!!!!!

• Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami- have to finish it, as I took a break from it to catch up on a book we are reading for the book club. Mr. Murakami never fails to amaze me\wise me up.
• The summer of a bear by Bella Pollen -a book club read. A lovely surprise. Have to stare down the pages as the discussion meeting is in a week. Can't wait to hear what ladies think.
• Aleph by Paulo Coelho - got the book for Xmas from my boy boy. So it's a must read.
• Paulo Coelho: A Worrier's Life - ooh yet another Xmas present from, none other than...wait for it...my boy boy AGAIN! Some females like shoes and jewellery and expensive crap, I like me books and he knows it! :)
• Down Under by Bill Bryson - and yet another Xmas present, but from my darling Timothy
• The sense of an ending by Julian Barnes - a 'present' from Mum. Seemed so inviting that I had to buy another copy for SP. May he learn something. And I, too.
• The interpretation of dreams volume four by Sigmund Freud - this book is from the bookshelf, serving as a pre-read or an introduction to the next book. Let it be a book that will change my perception. Heart when that happens. The quite transformations of the women in me.
• A dangerous method by John Kerr - must read before watching a movie. And I love love love Keira Knightly.
• At Home by Bill Bryson - well, this book was from me to me. What we do at home and why? What it the logic to it, if existent at all and to which extent.
• Women by Charles Bukowski (Wikipedia is down today for some kind of an important reason, apparently trying to prove a point, don't know the story, basically, what I am trying to say here is that there is no link about Charlie due to the protest for good cause. I hope.) - This book came into my possesion (was not stolen, I bought it!) as a project. 'Go to the book-shop, find your favourite author, buy the book next to it and READ IT!' Have absolutely no idea what is it and why it is written. Didn't even bother reading the back cover. That way is mysterious, the title works for me, author's last name sounds promising, also knowing that he is a poet is a definite thumbs up. No expectations, no disappointments, only pleasenteries.

Now that I look at it, bit random, no? May not read them in this specific order as wouldn't like to get stuck in the middle of the summer fun with Freud :/

Hopefully for once will honer the list.

If you have read any of these books or want to read, do share your opinions, views, critics, 'To read' lists or shelf pictures, etc.

Would love to hear it! :)

Loves y'all, bookies!

BACK TO DREAMING...MEET ME THERE

'The mind hardly dares to express itself and, when it does, is limited to stating that this idea or that woman has an effect on it.' This might be the truth for those who believe that there is no original thought. That the great ideas are stolen. One whole medical doctrine is subjected to reduce any felt feeling, emotion or thought process to a premature effect from or via our subconsciousness. How the actual 'effect' gives rise to an emotion and goes to understand it. Going back to the earliest memory, rightly or wrongly, drawing the diagnoses whilst avoiding the term 'normal'. The 'N' word in psycho-analysis.

Life's a round-about, each street leading to depression, signs indicating 'Further Disaster', insomnia just around the corner. The ridicule of rat race. So obnoxious over the waking state resulting with anxiety. Or it thinks it is. But what about Freud? What about the dreams?

The sleeping, dreaming, state is as essential and as complex as the waking state, outwardly two contradictory realities. Not enough importance is paid to that valuable time. 'The mind of a sleeping man is fully satisfied with whatever happens to it'.The divine state we indulge in for one third of our life. The rest of the time we are worried.

Spending my days desperately to find a connection and to reason with reason when only justifying my sleeping habits. Or a need to believe in something rather than horoscope where dreams come to be the second best.

Final summation: Darling, don't believe everything you think.

I like to sleep.

WHAT WE'RE READING...

When I am not in love, I walk, work, sleep and joke. Even that becomes overbearing. When I feel as empty as a promise, I try to escape, pretend nothing exists around me, nothing is real, nor am I. Or make myself believe that I am the Only real creation while the rest are my reflections, in order to change for the better, in this theory, I should think happy thoughts. But sometimes is hard to think outside of the box. My box can be as dark as a coffin and as lonely as a church sometimes. Although, it is still mine, it is magical!

When my box doesn't suit me I go into somebody else's. I read, passionately.

I need an imaginative box, a deeper and bigger box than mine it is. A box with new colors. As I already read 'Kafka on the Shore', I tursted Mr. Murakami. I chose his earlier work 'Norwegian Wood' to be my exile this time.

...'So I made up my mind I was going to find somebody who would love me unconditionally 365 days a year. I was still in primary school at that time , but I made up my mind once and for all.'

'Wow', I said. 'And did your search pay off?'

'That's the hard part,' said Midori. She watched the rising smoke for a while, thinking. 'I guess I've been waiting so long I'm looking for perfection. That makes it tough.'

'Waiting for the perfect love?'

'No, even I know better than that. I'm looking for selfishness. Perfect selfishness. Like, say I tell you I want to eat strawberry shortbread. And you stop everything you're doing and run out and buy it for me. And you come back out of breath and get down on your knees and hold this strawberry shortbread out to me. And I say I don't want it any more and throw it out of the window. That's what I am looking for.'

'I'm not sure that has anything to do with love,' I said with some amazement.

'It does,' she said. 'You just don't know it. There are times in a girl's life when things like that are incredibly important.'

'Things like throwing strawberry shortbread out of the window?'

'Exactly. And when I do it, I want the man to apologizes to me. 'Now I see, Midori. What a fool I've been! I should have known that you would lose your desire for strawberry shortbread. I have all the intelligence and sensitivity of a piece of donkey shit. To make it up to you, I'll go out and buy you something else. What would you like? Chocolate mousse? Cheesecake?''

'So then what?'

'So then I'd give him all the love he deserves for what he's done.'

'Sounds crazy to me.'

'Well, to me, that's what love is. Not that anyone can understand me, though.' Midori gave her head a little shake against my shoulder. 'For a certain kind of person, love begins from something tiny or silly. From something like that or it doesn't begin at all.'

I want to know what strawberry shortbread is so I'll know what to throw out of the window as that is the kind of love I am yearning for. A Perfect Selfishness.

I WANT WHAT I WANT

I want the impossible,

that which is imaginable

and conceptually plausible,

yet completely unattainable.

I want to access

that which is inaccessible.

I want to envision

that which is inconceivable.

In a word,

I want the absurd.

I want to experience

something that's magical

and completely impractical,

to climb the insurmountable,

to prove up the unreasonable

as a preposterous truth.

I want what we all want,

what each of us pine for

and fitfully whine for.

I want you,

and to know, in the end,

that you want me to

-Unknown-

'I want a soul-mate who will sit me down, shut me up, tell me ten things I don't already know and make me laugh...turn me on.' -Henry Rollin

CLOSE EYES TO EXIT

I spent Sunday with my good friend Aurora. We talked a lot. We talked about change, change and growth of character, a shift of a view point, of the opportunity to see the world through eyes of a three-year old, again.

She says how easy is for her to pack up and leave. Further more, she needs to do it. When she was twenty she left to Egypt, after it, she came to Malta, made a little break at London. For, she being a creature of the sea, had to come back to the island. The tickling feeling that starts in the stomach, slowly but surly reaching the throat, until it starts chocking her informs her that is time to change, to move. And she’s going to, in September.

I could totally relate to what she was on about. Once you move, start your life from a suitcase, buy again your first spoon and fork, make friends, you can do it all over again, countless times. And it becomes easier each time around.

That chocking feeling is giving me two more minutes until I slip into seven minutes coma. In other words, I’m feeling restless.

I do not know whether I made myself hope, or just needed to put an artificial light at the end of my tunnel. Made up urge in hopes to save me. But I strongly believe that South America has an answer for me. While not knowing what the question is exactly.

Setting off into unknown makes you taste the freedom, by each step discovering the strengths and balls one didn’t even dream of heaving. Aurora said how she doesn’t recognizes herself from the first time she had lipped. I want to come to that conclusion.

Many people are her, live that way. Maybe I am a gypsy too. Maybe I have to get lost in order to find myself. Going in search of who I am and for solitude, where I can write and write and write. Search for my Utopia, my Nirvana.

If this makes sense to you, or you pity me, do donate few euros so I can buy a ticket :)

YOU MAY BE BATMEN, BUT I AM SCANNER

Long time ago I thought myself not to take in the account the decisions and ideas that pop up letter than 2am. Enthusiasm depriving my sleep. Waking up with the biggest smile and determination on the choice I made prior that night. Only to discover, again and again, that my consistency and follow up have the same life expectancy as milk in my fridge. Here to say, I don't drink milk.

This conviction made me doubt and judge myself terribly. Every idea facing the jury of my fears of just Mom. Winning every case, however, no execution in sight. Questioning in-depth my interest go. Leaving me frustrated and deluded.

Lifestyle ideas, ideas of what I might like to study or pursue, deciding to exercise or jog, vowing to wake up early, write everyday, to have an organizer filled with social events, to get and just do, ideas for a magazine or new Blog...fade as easily and randomly as they come.

Are you as chaotic as me? Trying to do it all?

Well, I've got great news. We are not sick! We are 'scanners'!

Barbara Sher, speaker, career/lifestyle coach and an author of seven bestselling books, 'coined' this term. She says, 'Scanners learn fast and need to move their passions onwards.' Sher, also suggested to focus less on analyzing the idea but to play it out, start doing it, not finish it, have fun with it. This sound very appealing to a scanner like me.

But we all have deadlines, job that have to be done, thesis to be written and dogs to be walked.

To keep our heads free cluttered of all the great ideas, Sher suggests to scanners, to us, to take up a 'scanner daybook'. A little notepad to input all the ideas, decisions and interest, details and fabric colors for the dress or paint color testers for the walls in hopes of re-decorating your living room. One day we may get back to these and FINISH THEM.

I've already got me a 'scanner daybook' and feeling optimistic. This is probably the best advice I've read in my life.

MY VOLUMES

I am a collector but do not like to share.

My collections are layers of me, my volumes. An onion of my personality. There is not enough of notebooks and blank paper for me to fill on everything I do find amusing, inspiring, motivating, gasping, funny and radiating.

Others collect butterflies, tattoos, photographs, memories, sex partners, fridge magnets, sugar packets, mirror reflections, memories. I collect words. Just now, in front of me lies six notebooks.

The light blue one is full of title names, questions to think twice about, name of the songs and one drawing. The red one is a 'writing lesson, prompt, Emerson notebook. Green is for beautiful articles, poems, stories that explain me dead on, teas, what other men wrote about love. A flowery one with a mirror butterfly in the right corner is the witty book, a status book, comment book. Withholding dumb and incredibly intelligent things people say. This one is the sequence to the little red one with the leather covers which is already written. And the last one is the little green one containing everything I am appreciative of. Sometimes we need to stand still and be grateful.

I'd write down anything that takes up on my liking in hopes I will need it someday.

What is your chronicle of little things?

WHO ARE YOU NOT?

Once a upon a time, somebody smart said 'only when you accept who you are, and who you aren't will you succeed'.

Not knowing who I am- can round up last few years of my life. Or it even can go back to the first conscience thought of mine or my first memory. Believe me, it's not long time ago. I must not lie, but admit that I actually have a slight idea who I am. However, I still do not know who I am not. That scares me. What am I capable of doing?! Kinda falls in both categories, who I am and who I am not.

I know what I am made of, anatomically, carbon and water, sure. Yet, the learning curve and the experience what you will make out of the two, make something you can be tolerant to live with. Or a higher expectation, therefore increased possibility of disappointment, to be happy with. It is about creation. Mommy and Daddy did they part, it is on you to do something something with it. And here emerges the inquiry of average. Never settle. Even on the bus, do not sit on a first available sit, thats settling for the average, find the best sit, the most comfortable, with the nicest view or near a good looking person.

Through out life we find bits and pieces of ourselves, coming down nicely, like a puzzle. Knowledge and wisdom and random teeth that hurt like hell. Wisdom come from sponging the surrounding and knowledge from experience.

But who are you not? Do you want to find out at all (the good, the bad, the ugly)? Would that make a whole or just make you constantly rearrange your prejudice while thinking? From the historical point of view, it is horrifying to learn what a human being is capable of doing to one another, to one self. Tongue is the organ we should fear the most. That is why no other animal is in any way on the top of the food chain. And, that is what we are not.

Walking contradiction, is who I am. And who I am not, I am not the goddess from the picture.

VIVA LA VIDA

Modern generations are physically exhausting themselves to live the life with no regrets. I do it too.

I'd rather live the life of 'oh wells' than of 'what if is'. Taking every chance that represents itself, trying with all my might to get what I want. Leaving nothing to slip through my fingers. Because I know, when I get older I am going to forget my mistakes and slips and over-reactions on what I thought was important to me in specific phases of my life. And just regret things I did not do. Dwell over them like a child as the time is the only thing I cannot go back to.

Living day by day, doing what I want and what I feel like doing, whiles trying not to hurt anybody. And if I get hurt, that doesn't mean I'm hurting but only ever learning. I am so obsessed of having a good day that have no time to be concerned over a happy ending. Believing in karma and in happy thoughts, guide me through my days.

Letting myself be fascinated and inspired with anyone and anything. Hearing the music of someone I do not know and moving my hips to the rhythm of the melody. Not trying to change nothing but learn how love it for what it is. Knowing that nothing would come my way that I'm not ready for, cannot deal with or not recognize how to embrace it. When hear bad news I try to pop open a bottle of champagne.

Allowing my dreams to mean something.

MY OBSESSIONS

READING

"Give me the books, fruit,

French wine and fine weather

and a little music out of doors,

played by someone I do not know."

WRITING

"To read is to empower.

To empower is to write.

To write is to influence.

To influence is to change.

To change is to live."

PHOTOGRAPHY

"Intensity captured"

CREATIVITY

"Drew something, cook something,

sing something, build something,

make something, buy nothing!"

Silly me, when collected these wonderful quotes and pictures didn't even thought of writing down who's so wise to say something like that or produce such a picture or a drawing :S