NEVER KNOWS BEST

Didn't I want to say goodbye to my father last night in case we cried and to see in his blurry eyes disappointment and pride of me leaving? No, I didn't. Was I freaking out this morning? Oh, hell yeah.


When you are preoccupied with excitement and anticipation is hard to be scared. Yet, it is universally known truth of reality coming done, not like me each morning-undone. Deciding just to jump on a plane and go give him a kiss, just what a romantic in me dreamed of doing whole life while a wuzz in me, that can't even get anything inked was freaking out. Naturally. Was I surprised? Not much.

All by myself in the southest of inhibited piece of land populated by, hopefully friendly people, me there. Who is going to pick me up when I am down? Who is going to cover their ears when I am screaming? Who is going to take me home? Who is going to ignore my outbursts or whatever me just because I am theirs? No one.

You know where this way of thinking will get me? No where! So, I am going to go and do it, and its not going to be boring. I want it more than I am afraid of it! And what do ya know, I might love it. One is for sure. I am going to enjoy it to the fullest. Give my all, my time, attention, affection and sincerity and open  half a dozen senses to experience.

Am I going to be with someone that I can pour myself into, another soul I can cling onto, another body to keep me warm. Hell yeah!

WAKE YOU UP BEFORE I GO GO

My lovelies, this would be my last shout from the Isle of Malta, for the now.

Shortly, I will be borrowing wings from Egyptian airlines to get to my destination, the Southest of Africa where new everything awaits me. Love, life, dressing table, road trips, knowledge and facing of my fears.

Everything has been done in a timely manner. Visa, yellow fever shot, packing as if I am going to Paris not savanna, well I only have nice garments or uniform. At least if a lion sneaks, I'll look presentable. Ta-ta party has been partied, only to take off for a new adventure is left to be done. To finally kiss my man.

Where there do not move the clock and water runs anticlockwise, there too is not much of Internet, but I solemnly swear to keep you posted of my experiences and incidents.

I am too excited and do not know much more to tell you of in this stage so Good Luck to me and I'll keep you posted.

Have a fabulous week.

IF I WERE A PAINTER

If I were a painter I'd paint memories. I'd paint the places in my dreams. I'd paint us in cafe's, shores, top of the hills, trains and holding hands flaneuring through city veins. I'd paint apathy, Raison D'etre,  and anacampserote. And return to gone away. I'd paint how reality ruins life.

If I were a painter, I'll paint us in a way Greek mythology meant us to be. One creature with four arms, four legs and one head with two faces and let Zeus be afraid. On that canvas of mine we'll be one being and won't ever need to look for another half or for anything else. I'd paint flowers to stay forever in that bloom of that colour. I'd paint music and angels you call me after. I'd paint that poem in your mouth I left the first night I kissed you and every breath of yours following that moment.

If I were a painter I'll paint the sound of your laughter. I'd paint other people naked, crying, ugly. Goosebumps. I'd paint waiting. I'd paint an auto-portrait of each bone of mine in its search for wings. I'd paint talk of the day. If I were a painter it would come easy and it would be good.

I'd use brushes, sponges, attires, curtains, fingers, palms, back of my hands, souls of my feet, knees and my hair to paint.  I'd use black and white, all shades of grey, all the colours, blood, olive oil and oil. Ash. Ink. Spices and copper just to depict the deeper hunger of sufficiency of excess, of condemning yearn to express, need to capture it all.

If I were a painter I'd paint out of fear of forgetting.

Stroke after stroke. Passionately Forever.

LIVE HOW YOU SPEAK

To speak with authority in order to captivate the attention and genuine curiosity of the second conversationalist is to speak of your believes. No man would act against his beliefs and therefore is the trust in that truth that allows to speak with confidence. Seemingly stress on the words that one feels are important and need be underlined with a hand gesture to follow it. Whilst staying in the only authentic state and that is to be vulnerable, honest, ready to be wrong and open for theory debate, maybe even open enough to change of regards on the subject.  

Once one allows himself to be bold to celebrate those beliefs, live them, be them, let that process of routine busykeep them does one find the reason to get out of the bed resulting in finding one's purpose of being here. And that is only when one discovers and let indulge in true, deep happiness. One finds piece within allowing the preaching, and life itself be meaningful. It's inspiring.

We are different in our interests and priorities. Which keeps us occupied, resurrecting joy from. But one should never let be preoccupied. The biggest act of kindness is to give full attention to the task at hand, a person talking to, a chosen path to be lived. Take the time needed.

All this is a process of carving the learning curve, analysing and seeking. Wanting to be better and content. Letting be impressed and fascinated. Looking to surround oneself with blisses of what he wants to become.Taking up theories, living by them, shooting them down, taking up new ones. Pealing down the ego.

I always said that whatever one does it will be so typical of him. Yet one will never stop discovering layer after layer, how deep the core of being is. We'll always come undone and that is the beauty of life.

Keep discovering self and tell people of it. Living it out aloud, letting others know we are here for a reason. Take crushes and make them your lawful infatuations. Attempt to be kind and take the time needed.

IT'S NEVER TOO LATE

I want to learn:

• how to drink whiskey
• drive a car
• ride a bike
• ride a horse
• how to read poetry 
• what is beautiful and what is scary for me
• every language known to men
• patience to last 
• clever words
• which is my favourite flower
• to focus on priorities and ideas
• how to be a woman 
• of all the myths
• how to cook pretty damn well
• how to express myself with confidence 
• how to knit, draw, engrave, precision and all that hands are capable of doing
• how to fully embrace and celebrate life
• how to forgive
• all about wine and cheese 
• how to make a fire
• how to take the time and give full attention 
• how to honour to-do lists
• to be a morning person
• to balance
• to pray
• the worth
• how and why things work in the way they do
• how to take photos and operate the camera
• to help
• etc.

I have a great yearn igniting in me to acquire the knowledge of all the earthly things to be learned in order to be practical in living. Not be the best at, but all of it to have my mark, to be typical of me. To never stop learning, creating, feeding my soul and keeping it free. Each time I read an incredible text or see and inspiring photograph, I smile for this world still has got hope. I wish my mind to be great and find fascination in little things as much as being comfortable around the grandiose. To appreciate the wonders but stay sophisticated and minimalistic in taste and wants. To rather go back to the simple to learn of dignity and value the human contact again. To love, live and say it well in sentences. 

What do you want to learn? 

MIDDLE OF NOWHERE ISN'T FAR

 The decision by the two hearts and two beautiful heads has been made that I'd be off living with a boy in a strange country on a different continent where time will have different meaning. Just how damn excited and nervous (in a good way) I am to kick off with new reality. With new life, new adventure, new everything.

Everything is going to be different. Good different. I am different already. I like me better when with him, when in love. Our home, our morning routine, our everyday life. For the first time in my life I'd be completely alone, miles away from a first person I know, not in a scary way. In a good new-learning,-adventures-want-to-make-it-work-want-to-make-it-happy-days way.

A man who finds it transfixing watching elephants for hours and hours. Who got himself a bike to get to the mountains easier. Who is not scared of the rough sea but rides the waves. Who is eager to show me his motherland, the green grass, the beautiful, the ugly, the bad. Just so I could grasp from what earth he came from, how he came to be and regard this world. Taste the food, culture and dance to the music. Whose bought himself a house to make it a home. How could I not be the luckiest girl? how could I ever not like it? or be bored? There is not even a chance! We are going to eat well and go on road-trips, camp, be in love all over the place.

As I said, everything is going to be different, better. So, I am planning to change the blog into maybe a travelling journal, experience log, a place where I'll write of my adaptation, frustration, great days, everything that is around through new eyes, new words. Nostalgia and amazing tomorrows. My dealings and interconnections, new places, new people, new friends & family. My love, likes and dislikes. The simplicity and hardship. Relationships and keeping honest to who I am. The opportunity of growth and discovery of own strength. To be who I always wanted to be. To do everyday what I always wanted to do. The circumstances forcing me to be creative. To make our life a pencil box of which will use every crayon to paint the towns, our home a harmony club.

I can see it, it's gonna be loud, fun, loads of hugs, kisses and spontaneous moments. Second chances and practiced patience, Sundays and playfulness. And its gonna be scary, and it will hurt, it will hurt because it matters.

Pure Happiness.

WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE

Does it happen to you too? Since you were a little girl, 5ish and onward, you started dreaming. And you kept on dreaming and you still are dreaming and wishing. You want it so much. You start believing in it, living for it, breathing it, thinking only about it, it is almost real, you close your eyes, you can see it. You perfected it through the years, you thought of every detail over and over again, you can touch it now. You want it so bad and it just happens. Something clicks in your head, almost or it did make you cry. Because that is it, your brain-the only one that was reminding you of it not being real, made a decision that you are going to go out there, do what is needed to be it. And before you know it, you've got a plane ticket to a strange country, unspecific, the place doesn't matter, your promise land. Promising of your all dreams coming true. Nightmares are dreams too, but what the hack, you'll pass through them like it's nothing because the positive you will destroy them with a rule of a thumb. You print out the ticket, holding onto something now, feeling you don't deserve it, knowing you'd make it your life to make amends. Not because you feel like you owe it to someone, but yourself, because you want to, because that is the only way you'll ever be happy, making another happy.

Or is just me?

Let me start over.

I talk aloud, I write gratitude list and I ask life for things. When I kindly asked life to give me silver linings and all, I asked not to give me love for I wouldn't know what to do with it, what to make of it. My head was bowed, eyes glued to the floor. I didn't dare look up for I'd be looking for signs, misread them, fall for sugar coated as it is what I needed. Walked like that for days, to work, at work, from work.

Then he feel out of the sky, fell under my feet with his life falling apart before me. Didn't think much of him, except pity asking his friend to take him home and cut the embarrassment short, there was no cure for the hangover any longer. Little did I know that the man on the floor promised people around him, I'd be his girlfriend.

Since that day, he lived up to all his promises. He lived up to all that a little girl in me dreamed of and more. They say you get what you deserve, and being the luckiest girl in the world to be loved by such a wonderful man, maybe I wasn't as bad as I thought. Never mind me who I was, now all that seems like a beautiful ruin. He makes me the happiest, better person, and all I want now is to be the best for him.

Kissed him for the first time. I felt it, he felt it. And before I knew what hit me and how hard I was coming out of  'exit only' airport door, with my whole being trembling with Joy. Spending first five days touching, kissing, feeling every inch of his body and the last five days, tracing those same inches to remember the texture. Remember the curve of his spine, every line of every tattoo, even of the one he doesn't like anymore, the pink of the skin where he scared, remember the rhythm of his heart, his facial expressions when he was talking to others, but not to me. Then, I'll only see my reflection swimming in his eyes, disappearing and appearing more focused with gaze by each blink. I'd be OK with drowning too. Remembering his eyes opening in the morning and under the flow of the shower. The length of his eyelashes. The hard of his heel, the hardness of his muscles. Watching him look at himself in the mirror. When pointing to something he wanted me to see, I'll stare at his hand. Those ten days might have been too honest for words.

While now it seems I missed him forever. Not for long though. In couple of weeks I'll be in his arms again. Forever is the plan. I am ready to miss mum and dad for this, my friends and the dog, my books. I am ready to start a new life that is build for two. Now I want to live in this body of mine that he kisses, and holds the hand when walking and hugs when sleeping, wherever the body is. I'll fix the body under his and go to sleep in love.