The inside out. #2018


The shore was still there, buried inside my hidden dreams, unwilling to come up to the surface. It’s been so long since I haven’t dreamed of it that it would almost extinct. It was my deepest and guiding wish but I made a memory of it instead of pushing it’s realization. I did not forget about it. The perseverance was gone for a while.
I woke up thinking of it today. Who have I become. Reality caught too much space in my life and I let the dream go. Foolishness.
The shore was my life and the only thing keeping me alive. Alive by the full meaning of the word. That shall resurrect me. How can I end up on that shore if that is not the goal?
How do we get intimidated by small things and forget about the major goal? I don’t get fascinated by this side of humans. We get caught up in situations, place ourselves with the mass, fill our time with superficial habits and become mediocre. We become average and the sum of our being is kept captive by tolerable days and decisions. The sad thing is not realizing it on time.
What is the right time though? It’s now. It’s that one morning when you wake up and remember the exceptional thing you wanted to be.
Let’s bring up to the surface the shore, the goals, persuasion and excellence. After one year, let’s make it all about the first days, the shivering beginning, the kisses, the long nights, the one and only goal. The shore.



Let’s have the relationship talk. Let’s be more specific than wondering about someone’s mediocrity.

Let’s talk about her.

The night was intense. It had fallen quickly and we were still standing there, immune to its’ fall. It seems, gentlemen, that the physical condition of a human being can easily be affected by words. More than that, when they said that you should undress the mind and then the body will get undressed on its’ own, they weren’t wrong.

What’s your relationship like?

How do you get in bed?

I was feeling aroused by words that had nothing to do with carnal satisfaction. The psychological analysis I received over a phrase of mine impressed me to the point of desire. Is that what happens to you too? I would really like to know.

I was once asked to write from someone else’s perspective, not mine. Therefore, I am imploring you to think of you as you read. Put yourself into the main role and play your part as I say; get the mask I am asking you to wear.

She needed to stand higher than me and that did not bother me. We talked about non-existent principles, impressions, wrongdoings and last but not least, her leaving if hurting will pursue. That intrigued me to the level of rising even if I was standing lower.

There was a continuous analysis of every phrase or argument we were bringing to the table.

Her eyes were sparkling, contemplating my thoughts, impatiently waiting for me to finish my line.

There was no mediocrity in the air.

My insides were burning in need of corruption.

I reached her lips and grabbed her in my arms filled with dreadful desire. Her body wasn’t enough. I needed more of her. I was inhaling her once again. Once I entered her, her facial expression became softer. Her eyes responded to my desire perfectly and I was craving her even more. More than I could ever imagine.

The relationship talk faded.

A Journey.


I am chasing you down the rabbit hole. I see shades of midnight blue and silver sparkling. I find it a vivid journey among the stars with only one destination; you. I travel through time and eras. I met Helen of Troy somewhere along the way. She asked me if she would be found by her lover but I hesitated to answer. I also did see Penelope. She wondered alone by the sea, praying to the gods to bring her Ulysses back. I carried the bargain of knowledge and wiped away her tears. I fell for Juliet’s innocence but I couldn’t reveal her the end. I saw a woman dressed in white sleeping between the dwarfs and admired her beauty. There was a fairy among them all who surprised me with her courage. She was tiny and green. I heard someone call her Tink and her cheeks turned scarlet. She loved that someone. Somewhere else there was a war. Poor Queen Mary had lost it all. I think I’ve encountered also to admire, the beauty and tenderness of Anabel Lee.
My journey was long and I stopped to rest. There he was; writing to his Immortal Beloved. I stood away not to be seen. Later on, close to dusk, there was a star brightening the whole sky. I tapped my shoes three times and flew above the seas. I got into a room filled with blue ink and thrown papers. He was standing close to the window bewitched by that star. That night I saw him writing the longest poem of all his generation had seen. I tapped my shoes three times again. I was back to my destination. He wasn’t just a stop along the way. I found him sleeping on the right side of his bed. There was a star lighting up the room. I smiled to my own thoughts and curled myself next to him. His skin was soft and warm. I embraced him with all myself and he kept me tight against his chest. I inhaled his perfume of a new born. I closed my eyes in a few seconds, smiling, feeling safe. I was back home to my one and only destination.