DEAR MR FUTURE BOYFRIEND HERE IS WHY

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

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!

A WORD A WEEK

One of the New Year resolutions (and probably the only one I have kept) is learning a word each week. When finding a blank piece of anything to write them on and have them on me at any time, the answer presented itself when purchase of a diary/organizer has been made. After deciding on a place where they will be written, above the small box that bares the name of 'special note'. Well that cannot remain empty, no. It is a 'Special Note', so I have decided to input there a 'Thought of the Week'.

We are in the week 16 so far in the year 2012, and these are the words I've collected.

WORDS      

• Sledding - a ride on a sled (although, the meaning of this word I wrote in Serbian)
• Flaneur -  The term flâneur comes from the French masculine noun flâneur—which has the basic meanings of "stroller", "lounger", "saunterer", "loafer"—which itself comes from the French verb flâner, which means "to stroll". Charles Baudelaire developed a derived meaning of flâneur—that of "a person who walks the city in order to experience it.  While Baudelaire characterized the flâneur as a "gentleman stroller of city streets",he saw the flâneur as having a key role in understanding, participating in and portraying the city. A flâneur thus played a double role in city life and in theory, that is, while remaining a detached observer. David Harvey asserts that "Baudelaire would be torn the rest of his life between the stances offlâneur and dandy, a disengaged and cynical voyeur on the one hand, and man of the people who enters into the life of his subjects with passion on the other".
• Sagacity-  Ability to make good judgements. Latin sagacitas meaning ''wisdom'' deprived from sagaci meaning wise. Also used in 17c. and 18c . of animals, meaning 'acute sense of smell.'
• Alais- Also Known As
• Frenzy-  Wild excitement. In medical/pathological sense means violent mental derangement.  
• Resurgam - Latin- ''I shall rise again.'' A name given to one of the first submarines, which never had a chance to resurface, ironically. 
• Raison d'etre- French- a reason of existence.
• Apathy- a state of indifference. Suppression of emotion.
• Illecebrous-  alluring, attractive, enticing.
• Anacampserote- Something that can bring back a lost love. 
• Ambrosia- Food of the Gods often depicted as conferring ageless immortality upon whomever consumed it. It was brought to the gods in Olympus by doves, so it may have been thought of in the Homeric tradition as a kind of divine exhalation of the Earth. Ambrosia is very closely related to the gods' other form of sustenance, nectar. The two terms may not have originally been distinguished; though in Homer's poems nectar is usually the drink and ambrosia the food of the gods.
• Adonis- a handsome youth in Greek Mythology loved by Aphrodite. 
• Avant garde-   The term is used in English as a noun or adjective to refer to people or works that are experimental or innovative, particularly with respect to art, culture, and politics. Avant-garde represents a pushing of the boundaries of what is accepted as the norm or the status quo, primarily in the cultural realm. The notion of the existence of the avant-garde is considered by some to be a hallmark of modernism, as distinct from postmodernism. Many artists have aligned themselves with the avant-garde movement and still continue to do so. The term was originally used to describe the foremost part of an army advancing into battle.
• Billet doux - A love letter. ''Young lovers in Victorian England, forbidden to express their affection in public and fearful that strict parents would intercept their billets-doux, sent coded messages through the personal columns in newspapers.''
• Grandeur- Splendour and impressiveness 
  
  
  
  
  
  

CURRENTLY

• I've read somewhere 'The earth laughed flowers.'  Get out of the bed with the sun and go bring some smiles to the baded apartment. 
• Spring came, even the false spring, and now the only problem is where to be the happiest.
•  In the morning I am going to do my ID card (lost it again) and my access to the Library will be returned.
• Wishing for canals and tinny rivers for the bridges to arch over so I'd have somewhere to ride my non-existent bicycle. 
• Must go in a search of a wooden board, maybe a prolonged cheese board to translate into a bath board even if I am cold when taking the bubble. 
• I love my philosophy 
• Classical music-hope my neighbours like it! Tchaikovsky for violin in D major 
• I said the first 'Thank yous' that I meant wholeheartedly. 
• Must stop running from goal to goal and enjoy the sweetness of the moments that fall inbetween.
• Tired
• Weary
• Like James Franco, I too sometimes get a little sad and it is then when I feel alone but then I talk to my dog and I feel fine again. 
• There are beer as cold as my heart, sometimes. And sometimes, I do not want to keep calm!
• Need a holiday, instead I slept with Atlas.
• An urge to hug a horse.
• 
  

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 

I AM NOT SORRY

Dyana Valentine spoke on TED

'We created this automatic language, this culture of apology that isn't really about apologizing for what we are doing, it seems to be not related to language. We've got to this place where 'sorry' sometimes means 'please', sometimes it equals 'thank you', 'sorry'- 'excuse me'. I am interested in WHY we are actually sorry.'

I AM NOT SORRY FOR:

I am not sorry for loving myself. For spoiling myself. For wanting only the best. For my sleeping habits and snooze. For my mood swings because I am passionate about things. I am not sorry for my passions. I am not sorry for inhaling chocolate bars. For liking my food with wee too much salt on it. For smoking. For loving like no other. I am not sorry for my writing. For being afraid. For not wanting to sleep alone. I am not sorry for wanting to be treated like a princess. I am not sorry for the time I need to waste and just be lazy. I am not sorry for believing in magic and happy endings. I am not sorry for the way my friends are. I am not sorry for my likes/dislikes and interests. I am not sorry for needing intellectual conversations to feed my soul with. I am not sorry for yelling and grammatical mistakes I make then. Or talking too loud in public. I am not sorry for all the elephants, gardens and chaos in my head. I am not sorry for my art. I am not sorry for my humour, sarcasm and cynicism. I am not sorry for not wanting to know how to get out of bed. I am not sorry  for being selfish. I am not sorry for being honest. I am not sorry for showing affection outside bedroom. I am not sorry for all the foods I don't like. I am not sorry for drinking only sparkling water. I am not sorry for my age and my moments. I am not sorry if I am too much. I am not sorry for saying NO. I am not sorry for my heart wanting what it wants. I am not sorry for decisions I made for I would not be me here. I am not sorry for loving you. I AM NOT SORRY THAT I AM!

What are you not sorry for?

BETWEEN TWO LUNGS

It took millions of years for evolution to build me a rib-cage. To protect my heart. One of my lungs sacrificed  its size for my heart to be stationed there, comfortable, warm and un-harmfully hugged. When it sacrificed its area it also sacrificed the volume of my breath intake to feed my every dividing cell. I remember when I had gills and a tale. In those days everything started to grow rapidly in order to surround my heart, and hold it there in the middle, biting the life into me.

It is soft and fragile. It is no bone and filled with no marrow. But with a red liquid containing iron. The iron that collects oxygen from my masochistic lungs. Making my chest go wider with every breath I take. With every hope.

My heart, all tender and sweet has been bruised by ones before you. I know how a bruise forms. Also, it contains secrets and heartaches. It holds too, a corner, a very small corner for the sins I will never commit but somehow thought of already. It contains my loses and my prides. From when the boy across the street cut my Barbie's hair, when I got the school certificate with top marks, when the organizer of the tournament put the gold medal over my head leaving it to hang over my not yet developed girl boobs,  to when he left me crying and dancing alone to the songs of the past. It contains my regrets and dreams. When I realized I would not get into university to strongly believing that my hands are shaped to hold and re-live another person's heart. It contains all my 'what ifs' and my insecurities. My loves.

Evolution took such long time to make my anatomy as fit for survival as for feeling the pains and tickles, heat and colds. It made my chromosomes combine perfectly and all my enzymes find their match. My helix makes a beautiful spiral and my atoms float and let float through me wonderfully. I am perfect and there is no one truer than me than myself in this body containing this crooked soul coated with the skin that is resilient to the winds and the sun.

I may be made from flesh and blood, add here H2O, but don't forget that my heart is pumping  iron through all my body reaching every limb, every tip of toes and fingers, all the way up to my jealous brain. I may be flesh and blood but I am stronger than I think I am, and no matter how many times I fall, I will rise again.

My heart is my source, my life, my everything and what does make you think I will serve it to you on a silver plate? My ears can disappoint and let your words undress me, but you'd have to posses the skills and wear a halo of my hero to win my heart and illuminate me whole.

And only then I will be your lamb.