Τρίτη, Ιανουαρίου 24, 2012

Ruby Tuesday...



She would never say where she came from
Yesterday don't matter if it's gone
While the sun is bright
Or in the darkest night
No one knows
She comes and goes

Goodbye, ruby tuesday
Who could hang a name on you? 
When you change with every new day
Still Im gonna miss you...

Don't question why she needs to be so free
Shell tell you it's the only way to be
She just can't be chained
To a life where nothings gained
And nothings lost
At such a cost

There's no time to lose, I heard her say
Catch your dreams before they slip away
Dying all the time
Lose your dreams
And you will lose your mind.
Aint life unkind? 

Goodbye, ruby tuesday
Who could hang a name on you? 
When you change with every new day
Still Im gonna miss you...


Κυριακή, Ιανουαρίου 22, 2012

You will never know



It breaks my heart ‘cause I know you’re the one for me
Don’t you feel sad there never was a story 
Obviously it'll never be

You will never know
I will never show
What I feel 
What I need from you no
You will never know
I will never show
What I feel 
What I need from you

With every smile comes my reality irony
You won’t find out what has been killing me
Can’t you see me, can’t you see?

You will never know
I will never show
What I feel 
What I need from you no
You will never know
I will never show
What I feel 
What I need from you
No no no no you will never know
I will never show
What I feel 
What I need from you no

No no no no you'll never know
No no no no you'll never know
No no no no
Love me love me love me love me no

You will never know
I will never show no no no
What I feel 
What I need from you no no no
You will never know
I will never show no no no
What I feel 
What I feel
What I feel
What I need
What I need from you no.


Τετάρτη, Ιανουαρίου 11, 2012

Delete


Sometimes some people say they wish they could delete something, some experience, some thought, some one. Sometimes I wish I could too. But.

Unless there can be some kind of selective oblivion that could give me the option to keep the lesson learned from the to-delete issue, would there be a point in deleting it? What if deleting means that I'm back to square zero, having nothing to help me the next time I'm dealing with the same thing? And even worse... what if deleting means denying the part of me that endulged in that wrong decision?

One's life, sometimes, is like the life of a statue. Created bit by bit, by light and heavy strikes, maybe even some wrong ones. Think about it; you start with a huge piece of marble and end up with a statue with a soul. Even the ugliest one, even one that was just a study, it always means something. It was someone's inspiration, someone's bad mood, someone's mistake, someone's dream. 

Otherwise, it's like play-doh. You are just a pile of organic matter that used to be something and then it becomes something else and there is almost no memory of what there used to be there before. In the best case scenario, an experienced play-doh artist will be able to tell the material's fatigue and that's the end of it.

Sometimes I wish I had never fallen for you. I wish I could protect myself from your influence. But I know now that I don't want to. I love my feelings for you. I do. I am a proud drama queen. I am happy that I have fallen asleep feeling my heart beating strongly in your thought. I am proud to have experienced this heat wave that would climb up my chest and my throat when I was listening to your words. I am lucky to have felt this way. Just like the movies... I managed to get the leading part in my life's movie and I actually won a prize. 

And, ok, it's true that it would have been better if I could have my happily ever after ending as well, but, you see, the reason why fairytales always end when the adventure part is over, is because this was the good stuff. The important stuff. The part that includes all the magic and the beauty and this unrealistic feeling that for a while you become a super-hero and live above your ordinary world.

So, my dear self, why on earth do you try so hard to delete him? Just let him be and enjoy the ride...




Δευτέρα, Ιανουαρίου 09, 2012

The male fairy


Last night, I met a fairy. A male fairy. He was just like I always thought a fairy would be like. Nothing like Cinderella's godmother or Tinkerbell. No fancy clothes, no wings... He might have had a magic wand though. Well... almost.

My fairy took me on a trip home. We started discussing, just small talk. And then, around the moment I would - as always- start grouching about my great misfortune, he started reciting some words. I was wandering in my thoughts and I couldn't concentrate on what he was telling me. I could only listen to the distant sound of his calm, serene, southing voice. I could tell he used to stutter, but he didn't even stutter once when talking to me.

He put his hand in his pocket and took out a small piece of light blue rock that he placed on my hand. "Do you recognize what this is?", he asked me. "I don't know. I think I had too much to drink tonight and I have no idea about stones...It looks like turquoise, I guess.", I replied feeling dizzy. "Correct. This means you feel better than what you think.", he said. "This stone is healing", he added.

He put the turqoise stone back and he took out a second stone. A blur, pink stone. "What do you think about this one?", he asked me again. I didn't want to play his game. "I told you I don't know about stones." I replied, trying not to sound rude. "Try. Just try." he continued, showing me that he was trying to say something important to me. "Ok..., this is amethyst? It looks too pink, but I can't think of anything else."."Try again", he insisted. "Quartz? It should be white though. Right? I... I don't know, just tell me.". "It's rose quartz, but see? You were close enough." he said. "This stone is about tenderness".

When he took out the third stone, I started to get annoyed. "And this one?" he asked again. "Please, I told you I don't know about these things." I said. Without any signs of anger or disappointment, he continued ignoring my frustration: "This one will be easy for you to find, you have already mentioned it before.". I looked at his third stone. Unlike the first too, this one was crystal clear and looked like an egyptian obelisk. I had no idea, but since he said I had mentoned it I shyly whispered: "Quartz?". "Correct again!" he replied enthousiastically. "I told you you are better than what you think! So, my dear girl, this is a very important stone, because it can help you decide. It can help you do the things you need to to move on in your life. Things you want to do, but you hesitate to."

He put the crystal in my left palm and he tenderly closed my fingers around it. "Just hold it tight and relax, till I take you home". And I did. And I honestly thought he was crazy. And I came home. And nothing felt different. I felt stupid. What did I expect? He must have been some kind of charlatan. And I fell asleep.

The next morning, when I woke up, I felt better. It felt good. All of a sudden, it all made sense: he was my fairy! Fairies do magic and so did he. It didn't matter if his stones had magical powers or not. It didn't matter if he was wearing a pair of delicate wings or not. I didn't matter if I believed in him or not. It only mattered that when I met him, he made me believe that I could feel better than what I thought. That I could find the will to decide the things I wanted to do and stop hesitating. All I had to do was to try. My fairy found a way to help me out. And in the end of the day, this is what makes a real fairy, well... real.





Κυριακή, Ιανουαρίου 08, 2012

Fatiguee d'attendre


Γιατί με βασανίζεις; Αφού το βλέπεις ότι είμαι ερωτευμένη μαζί σου. Αφού λες ότι μ' αγαπάς, έστω και λίγο, γιατί μου το κάνεις αυτό;

Το καταλαβαίνω να μη με θες. Το καταλαβαίνω να σου αρέσουν άλλες. Όλες οι άλλες. Μάλλον, οι άλλες που δεν είναι σαν εμένα. Που έχουν μια άλλη ομορφιά. Οι άλλες που δε μιλάνε τόσο πολύ. Οι άλλες που είναι πιο "ψαγμένες" από εμένα. Οι άλλες που είναι τυπάκια. Οι άλλες που σε παίζουν. Οι άλλες που είναι "παλιοθήλυκα" και δεν τις βγάζεις από το μυαλό σου. Οι άλλες που δε σε κοιτάζουν όπως εγώ. Οι άλλες που δε σου λένε πάντα ναι. Οι άλλες που δε σε εκνευρίζουν ποτέ. Οι άλλες που έχουν πάντα κάτι βαθύ να πουν. Οι άλλες που ξέρουν από μουσική, που σε καταλαβαίνουν, που σε τρελαίνουν, που σε κάνουν να αισθάνεσαι όπως νιώθω εγώ για σένα.

Είμαι κρίμα όμως. Καταλαβαίνω ότι η ανθρώπινη ματαιοδοξία θέλει συνεχή τροφή, αλλά όλα τα πράγματα καπου πρέπει να σταματάνε. Εντάξει, λοιπόν, κέρδισες. Είσαι καταπληκτικός και με έχεις κάνει κουρέλι. Όμως, φτάνει τώρα.

Μη μου ξαναπείς ποτέ για τα μάτια μου. Μην ξαναχαϊδέψεις τα μαλλιά μου. Μην μου ξαναπείς ποτέ ότι σου αρέσω. Μη μου ξαναπείς ποτέ ότι με λατρεύεις. Μη μου ξαναπείς ποτέ ότι με σκέφτηκες. Μη μου ξαναπείς ποτέ τίποτα. Γιατί εσύ τα λες έτσι, τυχαία, ή μπορεί απλά να απαντάς καταφατικά από βαρεμάρα στις επίμονες ερωτήσεις μου. Αλλά για μένα όλα αυτά είναι σημαντικά.

Κοιμάμαι και ξυπνάω και σκέφτομαι τι έκανα πάλι λάθος. Κοιμάμαι και ξυπνάω και δεν υπάρχει τίποτα άλλο παρά μονάχα εσύ. Κουράστηκα. Κουράστηκα να σε σκέφτομαι, κουράστηκα να κλαίω για σένα, κουράστηκα να χαίρομαι επειδή μου έστειλες ένα μίζερο μήνυμα, κουράστηκα να τρέχω από πίσω σου ζητιανεύοντας λίγη προσοχή. Κουράστηκα να χαμογελάω όταν μου ζητάς τηλέφωνα από φίλες μου. Κουράστηκα να σου δίνω συμβουλές για το πώς να γνωρίσεις αυτήν την κάποια άλλη.



Άσε με...

Παρασκευή, Ιανουαρίου 06, 2012

Un homme et une femme


“Hi.”, she said. He just stood back and looked at her, almost stared.
She smiled and he tried to have no reaction, but she could see a slight movement in his eyelids, as if they were trying to smile back at her on his behalf.
She could barely remember the first time she saw him. Just a vague, blur memory of a handsome guy. Her mind was elsewhere that night. Who knows what he thought of her back then. She was still in love with someone else. Maybe he was aware of that. Maybe it was not important.
They met again. She started to notice him. He could now remember her.
She was whining about love, about the man she was looking for and someone told her about him. Not much, just that through her words, she was describing him. She thought it was weird. She didn’t believe it. He had no idea.
They met a couple of times. Randomly. She started to like him, but then he met someone else. She was with him and witnessed it all. She realized it wasn’t pleasant, but who cares. He apologized, because she was left alone. She decided not to think about it.
She run away to avoid something else. Someone else. She was deleting everything and everyone. She had to. Her mind was twisted. He was lost.
One day, she got a message from him. He was writing the first sentence in her brand new page. She wasn’t sure what to think, but she met him. Just the two of them, for the first time. “Are you always such a sweet girl?”, he asked. She didn’t know what to answer. She might have replied:”I don’t know”.
She met him again. He met a group of people he didn’t know. She was hoping. He was flirting with other women. She tried not to think about it. He kept asking to meet her.
She realized she had a crush on him when he asked her to bring someone else. All she cared about was seeing him. All he wanted was to meet people. She knew too many, but only wanted to be with him. He knew her, but wanted to meet everyone else.
She wanted to find a way to rationalize it. He was relaxed and just having a nice time.
Suddenly, everything he did was perfect. Suddenly, everything she did was wrong.
Trying to get away from him, she triggered her maelstrom. The more she tried to stop thinking about him, the more obsessed she became. He was flooding everything. He was just looking for someone else.
One day, he visited her at her place. She was thrilled. Then, there was a phone call. He was just playing with her. She was wrecked. He didn’t even care enough to notice. She thought this was her chance to erase him from her mind. He asked her to meet again. She tried to stay distant. He thought something else was going on in her mind. She started crying at nights.
He started to be more open about other women. She was trying to stay calm. He asked her to help him find love. She agreed. He was innocent. She was suffering.
He told her he doesn’t see her as a woman. She had no ways to deal with this.
He asked her to go on a trip with him. As always, she said yes. She should have said no.
He once told her “ I adore you”. She knew he didn’t mean it the way she hoped for.
He said he wants to madly fall in love. She was madly in love with him.
Love isn’t dead. Sometimes people just love someone else. 

Τετάρτη, Ιανουαρίου 04, 2012

I had a dream, a dream of you.


Ήμουν, είμαι και θα είμαι για πάντα ερωτευμένη μ' Αυτόν. Τον απόλυτο άντρα, τον ένα που κατακλύζει τη ζωή μου, την ψυχή μου, όλο μου το είναι. Είναι η αρχή και το τέλος, το νόημα σε όλα, το φως, το σκοτάδι, το καλό και το κακό, είναι η μοναδική σταθερά από την οποία μπορώ να προσδιοριστώ.

Ξέρω ότι υπάρχει, κάπου... Στα όνειρά μου, το υποσυνείδητό μου, ίσως και δίπλα μου. Με αγαπάει και με λατρεύει και δεν μπορεί να υπάρχει χωρίς εμένα. 
Ξέρει με βεβαιότητα ότι για μένα είναι ο Ένας, οπότε δεν τον νοιάζει όταν είμαι με άλλους άντρες. Ξέρει ότι ερωτεύομαι όποιον μου τον θυμίζει. Όσο περισσότερο, τόσο περισσότερο τον ερωτεύομαι. Σε όποιον βλέπω κομμάτια του. Ένα βλέμμα, ένα χαμόγελο, μια κίνηση, μια ατάκα... Θα μπορούσε να την είχε πει Αυτός. Κι επειδή ξέρω ότι είμαστε καταδικασμένοι να ζούμε χώρια, μακριά ο ένας από την αγκαλιά του άλλου, τον ψάχνω εδώ κι εκεί. Κομματάκια του μικρά, ανούσια, που θα με αφήσουν να ξεγελάσω για μια στιγμή τον εαυτό μου και να πιστέψω ότι είμαι μαζί του, δίπλα του. Ως άλλη Κασσάνδρα, γνωρίζω την πλάνη μου και δεν μπορώ ποτέ να καλύψω το κενό αυτό, το κενό που μένει ανάμεσα σε μένα και τα υποκατάστατά του. Γιατί το κενό υπάρχει πάντα, άλλοτε μικρό και άλλοτε μεγάλο, έτσι για να μου θυμίζει ότι αυτό που προσπαθώ να ζήσω είναι παραμύθι και δεν θα μπορούσε ποτέ να είναι αληθινό. 
Μια κατάρα του Σίσυφου, χωρίς να θυμάμαι ποιο είναι το αμάρτημά μας. Ίσως ήταν ένα προπατορικό, σαν άλλοι Αδάμ και Εύα, να διαπράξαμε  ύβρη, να ζηλέψαν οι θεοί την ευτυχία μας ή ακόμη και από αλαζονεία να τους προκαλέσαμε εμείς. 
Και τώρα, σε ψάχνω στα πρόσωπα τόσων άλλων... Να έφταιγα εγώ; Να έφταιγες εσύ; Να φταίγαμε κι οι δύο; Η λήθη των θνητών μου το κρύβει. Κι αν ακόμη φοβήθηκα και σε σκότωσα και τώρα πρέπει να μάθω να ζω για πάντα κουβαλώντας το έγκλημά μου, μια μέρα θα σε βρω. Θα είμαστε και πάλι μαζί, για ένα δευτερόλεπτο σήμερα, ένα αύριο, ένα στο άπειρο. Θα ζω έρωτες μεγάλους δίπλα στα κομμάτια σου και όταν θα τελειώνουν, τότε μόνο θα θυμάμαι ότι δεν ήσουν εσύ.
Πλάνη ευτυχίας, ναρκωτικό της ψυχής, ο άνθρωπος έπλασε τον Θεό από ανάγκη ή η ανάγκη υπήρχε για να τον βοηθήσει να Τον βρει; 
Όπως και να' χει, στις αγκαλιές των άλλων, θα είμαι η πιο πιστή σου ιέρεια, θα σε λατρεύω και θα σε υπηρετώ. Κι όταν μυστικά θα σε ακούω να ψιθυρίζεις το όνομά μου, θα τους χαμογελώ...



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ΥΓ: Καμιά φορά, όταν είμαστε ερωτευμένοι, ψάχνουμε να βρούμε δικαιολογίες. Ειδικά όταν είμαστε ερωτευμένοι με κάποιον που δεν είναι ερωτευμένος μαζί μας. Ψάχνουμε τρόπους να υποβαθμίσουμε αυτό που νιώθουμε, να πείσουμε τον εαυτό μας ότι τα πράγματα δεν είναι όσο χάλια φαίνονται.
Στην περίπτωση αυτή, θα ήθελα να διευκρινίσω ότι ο κύριος Τέλειος δεν υπάρχει, ούτε στη φαντασία μου, ούτε κάπου αλλού. Απλά είμαι ερωτευμένη με κάποιον που δεν είναι ερωτευμένος μαζί μου. Και δεν είναι ευχάριστο.