Mediocrity.

Standard

e45ebff339caf9f22e0ec643a769ae0c

It was mesmerizing. I can tell you that. The way Darkness was inhaling me was mesmerizing. I counted seven stars on the sky, a few humans around and the speed of the cars racing; infinite; at least in my mind. In reality, there was just a soul beside me, humidity in the air and a few cars running sixty miles per hour. But I did not want to see the reality because my surreal dream was so absorbing.

I went back to it and I began rambling again while staring at the spark of the lamp post.

We conversed about the mediocrity of the human soul; me and the universe. I had a soul beside me listening but my mindset was elsewhere. I was imagining myself on an untidy bed, a soul losing its’ mind into my eyes, between my legs.

Devouring a soul and lifting it up to the defining line of the universe it’s the most exquisite gifts a human can receive. Keeping it on the ground, sane and steady, can cause the syndrome of mediocrity. Judging the corruption of the soul would be a great mistake if you do so gentlemen. Define happiness if you can though and you will understand what I am mumbling about.

Perhaps you’re not interested in my definition of it but I am free to state it anyway.

Devouring happiness: the liberty of the soul to collude with the walls of dispair while reflecting itself into the depth of a moment’s realisation.

The eyes, love. The eyes. Lose yourself into the mournful excitement of those eyes.

Mediocrity. Lose it. Give it up. Chase your soul to the end of the world. Do not keep your greatness intact.

Ruin yourself, stay still and feel the adrenaline of your blood. Now you’re not mediocre anymore.

But, can you do that?

Viridis.

Standard

f3ac357fb9fc2fd88253bc694157f75b
There are nights we all desire more than a simple hug or a gesture of tenderness. We need a fragrance that can make us choke of its’ powerful properties. That kind of fragrance I had every night in my arms as the sun was hiding behind the navy clouds. Every time he touched my skin with his baldly lips, I felt his need of affection. I always have an image of his eyes in my mind; the way he laughs is melting my bones. His riddles are gently visible while his eyes are miraculously twisting of amusement. His lips are the last ones to show the great excitement that unfolds a depressive happiness.

     I am used to falling asleep after him so I have the privilege to watch over him while his subconscious unravels his deepest fears or desires. His arm is wrapped around me and I am stupidly smiling while his heart is beating either slower or faster than usual. That moment I felt a great pain filling my lungs and conquering my soul.
I am haunted once again by the ghosts of my past and their countenance reminds me of a brunette man. No matter how hard I tried to breath out every concern that tortured my heart, it was futile.
     Tonight the darkness is silent and catastrophic for my mental health. The wind has stopped fizzling and the air I am inhaling is burning my insides. I feel every suffocating emotion submerging me and his absence keeps my demons alive. I shall fall into deep sleep now. All I need to see is the dazzling sun to give me hope.

A Shadow.

Standard

     Sullen or saturnine define him for thousands of inexplicable reasons. His lips won’t curve and his eyes won’t stop sparkling. I was looking at a shadow that intrigued me. The peculiar expression on his face begged for interpretation and understanding. Perhaps there is too much complexity in that soul and a bit of disorganization. That would be a rational explication for my overwhelming mood; I need to solve the mystery.

     I felt an enchantment disincorporating me. Midnight blue fitted him. I could find the rummiest words to describe his countenance. His touch felt like a cold endearment, like a ray of light after a heavy storm. He was wandering disoriented in my mind. Perhaps I could not guide him or control his way there and that seemed to be the real motive of my amusement. The acknowledgment of this fact deceived me and made me even more curious about him. He was a wave in my ocean that outreached all the others involuntarily.

Pain & Happiness as a life compass.

Standard

Frida Kahlo

Frida Kahlo

   There is a chance when you are born that you will know only happiness in your life. But that, despite the fact that is a simple chance, that is the deepest wish of a caring parent. Many of us haven’t known caring parents or others had the misfortune of paying their parents’ mistakes. Either way, the chance to know only happiness in your life is ‘one in an infinite’ , if infinity was countable, but still impossible. Considering an infinity bigger than other, we could say that the chance of complete, life-time happiness is considerably small or just non-existent.

     Growing up, learning to walk and speak, we realized that we loved those who loved us and granted our most profound wishes. I have not heard of a child in this world loving the evil or someone who hurts him or her. But a book stays still as the reader grows, becomes wiser or stupider. But that doesn’t matter because we are not books, we are the stories that color every page. That’s why we grow, our internal cosmos expands, travels on unknown lands, fighting, wishing, hoping, laughing and hurting.
     Is it always going to be like this? Yes, gentlemen. Always. Because as you know, when you first met love, when you first got into bed with it, when you first cried of love and disappointment, that wasn’t your choice. You chose a good evil. How is that possible? It is gentlemen. Growing older we realize that despite happiness, we bring upon ourselves pain, or life does so, but still, we cannot always fall for what is meant to do good.
     Somehow my thoughts ran to my chemistry classes. My professor always pointed out that the opposites attract but as you may have seen in your own lives, that is not a standard. We are usually deeply attracted to those who can reveal our true selves, the ones who dare living the way we don’t. Am I right? Think of it. The truth is though that we are much more alike than we admit. It’s just that the other person has the courage to do it or show it, as you have the courage to do or feel things, which for someone else, your partner, may be restricted or inconceivable to make it public knowledge.
     In this game of magnetic attractions, both parties win and lose. That’s the irony gentlemen. We chase the ultimate happiness, the one and only soul-mate, hoping that we won’t get hurt. What if we didn’t? Have you thought of that? What if it was that easy? What if the person you firstly fall in love with, feels the same way about you, no complications and no remorse? Do you think that there comes the ”happily ever after”? And if so, what then?
     I’ve got one fear, the deepest one and perhaps it is time to let you know it; I fear the day I will leave this world I will feel regrets because some day in my life I felt boredom, I wasn’t consumed. I wish that day never comes.
     There is a chance when you are born that you will know only pain in your life. But that, despite the fact that is a simple chance, that is the deepest fear of a caring parent. Growing up, we make our own fate based on the fears we overcome and at the end of the road, there is only one thing we should be saying: ” I lived and had it all. Misfortune, pain, happiness, pride and love. Now I shall have more of it in another life. ”

Poem by Testy McTesterson

Standard

She wiped the black spilling
from her eyelashes onto her cheek,
and in that moment, I wanted, I
needed, for magic to exist.
I wanted to peel back her lonely
skin and feel her sadness stare
straight into the blue inside my eyes.
I wanted and I needed it to know,
that I, I loved her too, and my god
I, I would fight for her.

Fatalism.

Standard

     How many words are born to impress? Not many. This one is. Fatalism.
Its’ eight letters embrace the deepest theories and feelings. I wonder whether the future agrees with me or not. But if, if we were allowed to believe that it was destined to be together, then let it be. I wish no insult to your thoughts but perhaps this is an accurate explanation to whatever tickles my insides. I do not know yet if there is an existing term for the sensation you give me.
The summer rain scares me. It’s hiding the sun, messing around with the moon. The heavens are desperately screaming. I feel my heart collapsing into a vacuum. The raindrops stretched on my skin daringly but I insisted on moving my hand back to safety. I wouldn’t let the rain touch me. I feared for a second it will take this inexplicable dulcet feeling away. The thought of it only electrified me.
The night falls into pieces of darkness, abstract lines of lightning and terrifying sounds of summer’s revengefulness. The earth implores the skies. I hear it praying for more. I wonder what ‘more’ means; even my heart wonders how ‘more’ would be.
Sometimes skipping the tormenting theories calls off the fear. At least in my case, it is gone. I smiled unwillingly while my mind faded in your aura.
Your head was resting beside me, your hand wrapped around my hips. I could not close my eyes. I felt I had to stay awake, watch over you. I was running my hand through your hair, on your cheek, close to your lips. Your lips curved into a smile when I touched your lower one but I feared I will intervene with your dream so I moved it back through your hair.
I felt my eyes closing but I would not dare sleep. The music, that specific song which I had on repeat while hoping your subconscious serves you a good dream, got me thinking about us. I had many questions vandalising my mind. The atmosphere was silent. The first hays of the sun hit the window and an unusual lightness fogged my question marks. I felt non existent but still attached to your skin. I smiled without knowing the exact reason. Or at least, without thinking of it. However, it was obvious.
Perhaps for a moment I had it all. Summer. Lightness. A song. White sheets. You.
That morning, I needed nothing more. So the earth needs nothing more. Tonight it is fed with water. In the morning I dare saying the sun will rise, his hays will burn sweetly.

”Do you love him? ”

Standard

The drunk man asked me this and I stood as still as a tree wondering…”Do you love him?”

Dear stranger,
I do not. Perhaps what I am saying seems a little, or a lot, nonsensical but you asked for my sincere answer and you should know that a sincere answer is what I am giving to you. I do not love him. I find it easy to admit or agree to such a thing and the reason why is simpler than you could ever percept. Whatever this feeling that cursed me is, it goes deeper than love. Since humans haven’t found a word for that yet or we may never find, I won’t let myself indulged into its’ charm. For love I have felt and it was not like this. It was indeed powerful, every emotion was triggered by it, but now, now it’s more than that. Now, the infinity of my feelings transfixes my body and has turned my feelings into a hunting warren. A warren of desire, seduction, empathy, vivacious feelings, feelings that if you ask me; I could even live for as eternity lies at dawn.
Maybe I should let you know, hoping you would understand my questioning this ”love” you want to name, that I have become a feathery person, sometimes even feeble. I am asking you please not to judge me or try to convince me that I should reconsider my statements, all because I will not. I am not gloomy. Do not ever understand that. I am as flippant as the hays of the sun on the sunup. You should see my expression now. A sought just escaped my lips, such a sweet and perky sought! It’s tingling my heart; this image of a demi-verge person who craves for me as I crave for him every night. This rapture or cannibalistic need of flesh, which many of us may not understand, it’s provoking me a deep sensation of amour. I do not say love dear stranger. Mark that. I am biting my lower lip at the very moment and the hotness has made my skin sweat. My humid lips have a salty taste of sweat. The hot breeze, the closed window, the feeble night, they all remind me of him. They all make me crave him even more, even sweeter. How can I make it understandable to you dear stranger?
In a parallel reality, where he exists only for me, or we might say that he is here for me, he touches my lower lip, undressing it from its’ salty taste with his own big softy lips. I fear writing to you the rest of the details…

On another long parallel line, runs my heart competing to all the above or helping them get to infinity. I do not know what it actually does but I feel it running. It has become a beast, a warrior among Cyclops. I shall not lie, I do feel deep feelings for him. As I said at the beginning, it is all about some other inexplicable feeling that has not been named yet because there is no greater than that. Writing the last sentence, perhaps I stupefy my own self for writing about ‘love’ as the greatest of all, but you should know, I am not. All I want you to do, is understand the difference.
……
After so many words, I’m letting you know, that at this very moment I feel a gap in my heart. It is like the earth, the soil, has broken up into two pieces letting an abyss of darkness in the middle. Do not ask me why I am feeling this way. I shall not answer.

Last night’s dream.

Standard

     I wish I was aware of your eyes in last night’s dream but I wasn’t. Your lips seduced me, submerging myself into them. Your mocking smile bewildered me. You were an intriguing man, self-asserted and your hands were touching my body mandatory. I was obliged to obey to all your exertions. In the background I remember nothing but darkness. For some strange reason there was nothing but a vast black shadow. My body felt every seething sensation while my subconscious ventured around your bare smile. I have never seen you that way. I was filled with idiocy and vulnerability. On the contrary, you were chirpy and poignant. I am struggling to recall every detail but my mind is not helping me. I am lost in the vacuum of my own thoughts and desires. The potency of my unwillingness to remember the dream is locking me up in a roost of suspicions. Perhaps I should stop wincing myself with this kind of thoughts and let the simulacrum of happiness have control over me. 
I am letting myself dream one more time of your eyes. Nothing is changed but still; nothing remains the same.

Delirium.

Standard

 
image

   I am asking you humans, have you ever felt like dying of happiness? I know pain is a murderer but have you been thinking of happiness killing you sweetly, slowly and ravishingly? I am feeling it now. Dying of happiness. I am chocking on my own laughter. The image of his eyes, his smile, his hands touching me, I feel my feet unworthy of standing and walking on earth. Perhaps I am already floating on a cloud, raised to heavens and seeing shadows of a rainbow reflected on my smile. You lay me down and hand me your soul. I have already locked it inside me next to your heart, next to mine. I cannot percept of having enough of you ever. Your words and perfume are guiding themselves into me, struggling to reach into my every little thin corner. I am asking you once again; have you ever been suffocated of happiness? I find it hard to breath. The time that I am away from you I find it hard to breath. I am becoming nonsensical, in desperate need of you. I claim there is only one minute, one long minute that I wish I could turn it into ashes and fly myself in your arms. Ah my love! You give me nonsensical thoughts and firstly-felt feelings. Who would ever think of being gifted with such wonderful messy emotions? I need you. I want to sin with you inside me. I want to inhale you and let you breath through me. I want my bones dissolving on your touch. We both crave for each other. That last sentence which you exclaimed to me is still haunting me sweetly.  My mind runs wildly to you again, now, before now, tomorrow and every millisecond of my breathing days. 
Once I open my eyes from what this seems as a nightmare; being away from you; I have you in front of me. Smiling brightly, proudly. But then, I close my eyes again and I am trapped in a ravishing dream. I am climbing on top of an oak tree admiring the sun hiding behind his marvelous hays. I smile at him as he fills me with more happiness. It seems like the sun and you are one and the same. Where am I ? I wonder as my face expresses my mind’s state. I am stuck between what’s supposed to be life and my own intense dream. I am in a delirium. Perhaps I should stop wondering. Wherever I am, whatever I am now, I am yours. You are keeping me still and safe in your arms, feeding me warmth and light. I am embracing what I’ve become for that matter and you are not letting me go. The oak tree dissolves with my dream and my reality. I am here, wherever I am, with you. 

Blurred Happiness.

Standard

     ”Recalling the word: happy. She said I would be that. She said happiness flows from lands to lands looking for desperate souls to settle. I wish it could settle on mine.”

     Forever seems a term greater than today or tomorrow. Forever is infinite. I shall never adore more a word than that; infinity. It’s the longing you feel for another heart to complete you; save you from drowning. There it was. A breath of life.
     The bottom seemed a long way down but it wasn’t. His hand was coming closer, approaching my steep fears; I fought hard to catch it. His glowing skin was mesmerizing me. I’m used to drowning in my own depths; such an alluring feeling; but still a stiffing one. I closed my eyes again and reached for her words: happy and complete. I knew the word ‘complete’ was defined as fulfillment but the emotions that carried me down there, at the bottom of all depths, where there was no land to rest my feet; I had nothing such as completion. I stood alone on that uncorroborated line from which I had no escape. I had no choice but open my eyes.
     He was there; in the still of the night. I might have seen a smile trying to brighten his gloriously fetched face but my own insecurity blurred my view. I smiled as a response; then I realized he had never smiled. Now he did. I was happy. My happiness fulfilled his and that was completion.
     Then our souls bonded and my heart had wings. I recall her words: ”You will be happy, both of you”.
     At dawn we flew above the endless skies; the sunrise was our bonding intervention between the days that kept us apart. At six o’ clock in the morning we moved from north to south; I said I loved him.

Part 35: From Love to Life

Standard

        They say there is no love like first love. I can truly doubt that. Yes. I agree. The first love is consuming, painful, fairy-tale love. Undoubtedly it is something that can kill you or make you feel like you’ll live forever in happiness. That’s it. It is something you feel for the first time, that’s why they say it is unforgettable. It is very unlikely to see ”first love” win though. That’s because it’s immature and the two involved can’t distinguish the things that should give importance to or not. So, there is the BOOM! Everything dies. After that, there is a fresh start. And again, there is love. Is it the same? Is it more powerful or less? Again, they say there is no love like first love. And again, I disagree. If my first love was disappointing  painful and had only a few moments of happiness, then I guess what has come after that is much better. They also say, life is the messy beats. I don’t doubt that because what we mostly remember at the end of our lifetime is what made us unhappy and miserable. If you ask me, I wish I could change that. I wish I could always think first about the good moments. Now, I’ working on it. I finally found myself again. It is so strange that we, humans, tend to find ourselves through others. I mean, we all live because of others. If we were alone in this world we wouldn’t survive. We live for our parents, friends, lovers and just the habit to live. Live to learn, to love, to feel, to give and all those things our daily life is about. Some of us, live because of that bakery shop in the corner. They love the saleswoman! Others live because they can’t imagine how painful it would be for those around them to lose them. Many of us live because of that. Perhaps I do. But mostly, I’d say I live because I want to follow the life’s road to where is getting me to and even if I get lost sometimes, there will be someone there to remind me where I came from.
      Talking about love, reached me to talking about life. Correct. It is love, for anything, that makes us still be alive. So, I’m glad I have a reason to live and I hope that reason to stay. At least, for a little more Time.

Part 30: Finally Can Feel it Again

Standard

     They say when you lose someone you realise if you actually needed that person or not. It’s true. Yesterday night, when I wasn’t about to see him although I needed him by my side, he surprised me by showing up later. At first, I didn’t bothered knowing he won’t come but as time passed I started missing him a lot. Reaching to the top of this sentiment I was about to explode in tears. I really wanted him by my side to share that moment. Seeing him coming up on the stairs my heart filled with joy. Until that moment, a part of me, still wanted my ex boyfriend back but when he showed up, I got a feeling I’ll never forget. It was that pain of happiness that caused me a stomach ache. I felt a new feeling getting  born. 24 hours later, at the moment, I can still feel it. So, I guess, it’s not something temporary. It is here to stay. I’m so glad to know I can feel again. Until two days ago, I was like a dormant volcano. I had the lava, emotions; but I couldn’t explode, I couldn’t feel it in every inch of my body. It was like I was dead when I was alive…From the very beginning I knew that If this person could make me smile like that even if I was sad inside me, then, this person would actually play an important role in my life. He actually does. He made me get over N. Not only that. He made me feel again things I was sure I wouldn’t. I can feel again anger, jealousy, itching, shivering with one touch; but most importantly; I can feel again happiness. The kind of happiness that hurts when it’s gone. I guess I can call it love.
       To be clear, not the same as my first love, different. A new version. 

Part 18: The Actor Of Your Life

Standard

         You know they say tough people are the most sensible and emotional. I’m now convinced that’s true. Many of us, myself included, show others a harsh face, heartless. They show no weakness, no pity. That’s like an armour which protects us from abusers and queen-bees. However, those people, deep inside are those who suffer the most. Life has shown them mistakes are to be made and they haven’t lost a chance but to make them. Experience if what they get; good or bad. The sad thing is all these “cases” – including myself – are either hated or loved. Mostly hated because of the character they show but if you get to know them better you’ll observe they just chose another way to live. They chose not to let pain get above their happiness. They chose jokes above nerves. They chose laugh above tears.
          But…there is a “but”. When the time comes they erupt  They feel their body in pain, their mind lost, their heart broken but their face should always show the same soul less expression. Their eyes get filled with tears they hardly hide. If you can understand them you’ll notice. Revenge is something they desire mostly. Some of them on the people who hurt them and others on their own selves. Time is just meaningless when you hide every emotion and feeling. The mind gets dirty and their smile has always two meanings. Those people seem mysterious but in reality they are like an open book. It’s a conceptional thing. You’ve got to watch every move of theirs. You’ll see everything is planned and if it doesn’t it just makes sense.
           Every day, those people wake up thinking of their role. Life is just a stage in which they have to perform better and better every single time in order to success.