For the man sound of body and serene of mind, there is no such thing as bad weather; every day has its beauty, and storms which whip the blood do but make it pulse more vigorously. – George Gissing
My blog? Snippets of random thoughts, ideas, beliefs, opinions, views, hopes, dreams and fears. No chronological order, no labels, no category. Just pure feelings coming from the heart. It may be vague and irrational at times but always real, honest and true. This is me on a plate without embellishments and trimmings, take it or leave it. It may not be everyone’s cup of tea but I don’t know any other way. I can edit my words but not my thoughts and feelings. And even if I could I would not. What is the use of having a voice and your own corner if you can’t say what you want? It is like whispering in your own house, afraid somebody might hear you. No, I can’t do that. I will always adhere to common decency and approach each topic politically correct but I would not dilute my writings so it suits sensitive ears and weak minds. I will never apologize for being myself. I know the path to freedom is not the easiest path to traverse, I have been on it since day one. Lots of hurdles but I can’t go off course, that would mean lying to you and to myself. I would appreciate if you walk with me down this road but I would also understand if you can’t. Not everyone is cut out for this journey. I will always be grateful I have met you along the way. These random encounters taught me a lot about life. I will continue this expedition with an open mind and an open heart as always. Maybe we will meet again someday. Take care and see you around…
“If a man wants you, he will come and get you.” ~ Unknown
This time something feels different.
The storyline began long ago—but we both have a history of not finishing what we started.
This time—I’m hoping you’ll take the chance to run your fingertips over every one of my soft pages, reading every single word—even those said in between the sweet subtext of refuge.
Because this time, for you, I am an open book.
So baby, if you want me—come and get me.
Come and surge through my door—because this time you know I’m ready for you.
Not just for the kisses that intoxicate us like the taste of electrifying absinth, but for the way you feel when we are together.
And while I may not know all the answers, something tells me, I inspire something different in you.
I am not professing to know the intricacies of your mind or heart—for one thing I’ve learned is, when you do want me to know something, I will.
And this time, I have no desire to rush you, or the endless amounts of time we could spend passionately working through the various endings to a love story, that we didn’t think we were ever going to read again.
I trust you enough to lead me.
That’s why this time, I’m leaving it up to you.
I think you know where I stand, and though I don’t have any conclusions about how this story will end, I do know the questions that I want to ask this time.
So, even though I want you, I’m not going to chase you.
If and when you decide that you want me, truly see what can grow in the most unlikely of places, then I trust you enough to choose the timing.
Although I can be a force to be reckoned with, I am more than that when I am with you.
And at one point I quaked in that role and fought against it, but now, it’s the pleasure of my simple undoing.
It is because of my strength that I need someone—yes, I said need—it is another thing I’ve learned this go around.
I do need someone.
I need a man, at times, to put me in my sweet place—not because I need to be told what to do, but because I need a man who is strong enough to know that I don’t really want to be so formidable.
I have lost my desire to lead.
Not that I will ever take a supporting role in my own life, but I also know that I don’t need to be in the starring role to make a difference in this world.
Because one thing I’ve learned is that I shine just as bright when I am quiet, with tears streaming paths down my soft cheeks. I don’t need to be the loudest, I can simply be myself and that is enough.
And though that may change on a daily basis—some days I may still roar, on most occasions I will simply just purr.
So, baby if you want me—come and get me.
Because I am a ripe peach, waiting for your teeth to sink into me, letting the sweet juices flow down your chin.
I am softness and understanding, just within your reach.
My eyes will tell you every sweet and bitter honesty—even if you don’t always wish to hear it.
Because this time, I’m not trying to be someone who I think you would want—I’m simply being myself.
While I may be filled with an endless array of contradictions, this is who I really am.
And I know myself well enough to know that anyone who truly wants me will come and get me.
And it won’t matter if a man knows all the answers, I am a question he can’t stop trying to figure out.
What may stand in the way or how ridiculous it may all seem, won’t matter to him.
If a man truly wants me, he won’t let anything stand in the way.
And, maybe you don’t really want me—maybe this could be all a game, one that I simply didn’t learn my lesson from before.
Maybe it is all about sex.
But, maybe it’s not—I wish to be judged for who I am now and not the crazy, train wreck of a woman who couldn’t look herself in the mirror, then I have to trust in the man you have become too.
I have no choice but to trust your words and the language of your eyes and hands.
So this time, baby, if you do want me—all you have to do is come and get me.
~Relephant Via Kate Rose
“I cannot be part of a world where men dress their wives as prostitutes by showing everything that should be cherished. Where there is no concept of honor and dignity, and one can only rely on those when they say “I promise”.
Where women do not want children, and men don’t want a family.
Where the suckers believe themselves to be successful behind the wheel of their fathers` cars, and a father who has a little bit of power is trying to prove to you that you’re a nobody.
Where people falsely declare that they believe in God with a shot of alcohol in their hand, and the lack of any understanding of their religion.
Where the concept of jealousy is considered shameful, and modesty is a disadvantage.
Where people forgot about love, but are simply looking for the best partner.
Where people repair every rustle of their car, not sparing any money or time, and themselves, they look so poor that only an expensive car can hide it.
Where the boys waste their parents’ money in nightclubs, aping under the primitive sounds, and girls fall in love with them for this.
Where men and women are no longer identifiable and where all this together is called freedom of choice, but for those who choose a different path-get branded as retarded despots.
I choose my path, but it’s a pity that I did not find similar understanding in the people among whom I wished to find it most of all … “ -Keanu Reeves
“If I could reach for something brilliant, that would be the home which been denied to me and the presence of the peace I’ve never known.”
I put this phrase on the right sidebar of my homepage. I yada-yada-ya countless times about my roots being pulled out before they can even have a chance to settle and get hold and never having a contingency to grow and flourish in a familiar soil. I teared up when I heard someone on TV said: “A tree without roots is just a piece of wood.” Why? Because the subject of home and family are two major sensitive issues for me. Always been always will be.
I have experienced countless betrayal by blood and like I already said before, that is the most painful deception somebody could experience in a lifetime. The wounds never heal and continue bleeding. It is not easy to get over it. It hurts.
As you probably have already guessed by now, I am living on a foreign soil. I arrived here 30 years ago and I’m still here. Let’s face it, skin colour matters no matter what others say and want to believe. I can never be white and that brings circumstances. I will not bore you with the details. Besides, this post is not about that topic. It’s about hanging in a limbo, not here nor there. I don’t feel at home in my own country, I live here for too long I don’t belong there anymore. I don’t understand a lot of things and at times I find that their views in life are narrow and limited and like here people are prejudiced and judgmental. They can’t look beyond their beliefs and fixed ideas. I feel like a stranger in my own country. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I expect too much. Forgetting that cultures will always clash. But then again, what happened to open minds? I told you, I expect too much.
When I was still living with my ex-husband I had a constant feeling of being in a transit. I knew I had a final destination but where? Other times I felt that I was having a nightmare (and really it was) and going to wake up eventually but when? I did manage to escape but it doesn’t mean I found a home. I’m still searching for it. In the process, I lost my children. They become estranged from me. The last time I have spoken to my daughter was almost two years ago. Again, it hurts. I am still trying to reconcile with the fact.
I often wonder if I will ever find a place I truly belong. A home which I can call my own and feel secure. Maybe what they say is true. That home is not a place but like hell is a state of mind. I don’t know.
Lately, I seem to be swimming in a thick syrup, like honey or even better, sludge. Every movement is laboured, forced. Nothing is spontaneous or enjoyable. I lost my mojo.
The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants – (1350)
BY EMILY DICKINSON
The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants –
At Evening, it is not
At Morning, in a Truffled Hut
It stopopon a Spot
As if it tarried always
And yet it’s whole Career
Is shorter than a Snake’s Delay –
And fleeter than a Tare –
’Tis Vegetation’s Juggler –
The Germ of Alibi –
Doth like a Bubble antedate
And like a Bubble, hie –
I feel as if the Grass was pleased
To have it intermit –
This surreptitious Scion
Of Summer’s circumspect.
Had Nature any supple Face
Or could she one contemn –
Had Nature an Apostate –
That Mushroom – it is Him!
If it means quaint, odd, strange, queer, eccentric, outlandish, bizarre, whimsical, then that is me. Oh, I have my own unique brand of droll self-mockery also. I laugh when I feel uneasy, I laugh when I see something terrible or read about hardship and misery. I laugh when I don’t feel good and I laugh when I’m sad. I have a very dry sense of humor and I am pretty ironic. You can say I am a droll little girl.
I’m experimental by nature… always exploring my creativity. Here, I was experimenting with speed and timing.
“All art is a kind of confession, more or less oblique. All artists, if they are to survive, are forced, at last, to tell the whole story; to vomit the anguish up.” ― James Baldwin
Did you ever hear the song “Beautiful in White?” If not, you’re lucky. This one is a torture. Worse than Mariah Carey or Björk (Yeah personal choices people, don’t get on your high horses) The song is flat and so annoyingly repetitive it drives me crazy. This one phrase in particular: “You look so beautiful in white, you look so beautiful in white, you look so beautiful in whiiiiiiiittte…. If I am in prison and they want me to confess to anything, all they have to do is play this song 24/7 and I will probably end up hanging myself.
But you know what’s remarkable about music like these? They get trapped in your brain and stick with you for days playing that one particular part you hate the most. Catchy songs aren’t always good people. See for yourself if you don’t believe me.
Misery always looks better in B&W.
Daily Prompt: Black
I learned to be cautious when dealing with people. Coming from an isolated background with only my immediate family for companions in an environment where no one had to lie and deceive to impress, we grew up as naive honest individuals with no boundaries; thinking that everyone is like us: strong yet vulnerable, what you see is what you get.
I (we) learned the hard way. The experience turned my siblings into one of them and they never look back. Somehow I managed to escape. Don’t ask me how. All I know is I turned inward and in that way protected my core from contamination. I am still struggling to survive in this world where hypocrisy and falseness are greatly rewarded.
I did try to belong. God knows I did. But being a copy of the majority doing the things I loathe and finding myself further and further away from the person I really am is a too high price to pay. I have chosen isolation once more. I’m still living there.
Daily Prompt: Gingerly