any other way is okay

this

feeling

is

.

.

.

unbearable.

.

.

.

*click,

she turned the tv on,

and enjoying the rest of the afternoon

by herself.

.

nice afternoon.

.

.

*today is a beautiful day, and no reason at all to feel blue right?

 

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thousand shades of gray

if you ask me right now,

what I want the most,

it’s not a hand to hold me,

or a kiss to soothe me,

or a hug to calm me,

or just a text saying i love you.

.

if you ask me, what i want right now

I want to be alone in crowded market,

I want to watch people from such heights they looked like ants.

I want to see the moon, so full it feels like a luminated saucer,

I want to travel, from city to city by train, next to a stranger, that reads poirot’s adventure

then we talk, about the detective and nothing serious but a casual mild talk,

I want to take picture of my breakfast crumble, a half bitten croissant and spilled coffee on the linoleum.

the morning sun falls right onto the black coffee mug, it looks like a good morning.

I want to hear john mayer singing about man with half of his heart to love, only his voice i hear,

while I try to grasp every idea, every lyrics, to connect it with my situation.

so later i can say, ‘hey this is my song, I heard it over and over when i was..’

I want to try my new heels, want to feel that all the problems in the world,

can be eased by the right shoes and the right purse.

I want to feel attracted, to a man with a good sense of humour and good sense of literature

so we will spend hours talking and laughing and debating and laughing some more,

I want to feel the wind, brushing my hair, while I see all the wild gease flying south,

I ordered a rainbow, seven colours, big, on the afternoon sky.

I want colours,

I want it in the water, the air, the sky, the television, the music, the books, in somebody’s eyes,

but all I get

is a thousand shades of gray.

picture taken on a plane, up in the september sky.

patience

she look at him, the boy of her dream.

she could touch him,

feel him,

kiss him,

hold him.

just a step closer, an inch closer, then a heartbeat closer.

.

don’t make it hard, complicated, and difficult.

she said to herself,

walk with it, get away with it

and maybe, just maybe,

she will be happy.

.

she found him interesting,

the talk,

the laugh,

the dreams,

she found him right where she want him to be.

.

and yes,

from Rod to Ella

from John to Frank

from Nick to Kate

it’s just right, right and right.

.

but there is time, she thought, when the right thing win over the fun thing.

well, isn’t that what keeps the world spinning,

the reason we get up and work,

and reason why we smile when we don’t feel like it ?

.

another shitty days to pass,

another jerks to date,

another hearts to broke,

another dreams and another sundays.

.

and there,

at the end of the road,

he’s there.

and then, everything will be okay.

.


decision

I want you off,

then I want you on.

I want you here,

then I want you there,

I want you speak,

then I want your silence,

I want you hold,

then I want you to let go.

I was wrong,

at so much point,

at so much promises,

at so much love,

.

but I make my decision.

good morning

I hate this feeling,
That crawling like a poisonous spider at night,
Owning my mind,
Taking control,
Hurting him.
.
I love this feeling,
A small firecracker that burst in my stomach,
Making me grin,
Taking control,
Loving him.
.
And so I forget everything else,
but then who I can trust?
Fun over anything else,
It seems just alright.
And so I go with the wind
That sometimes roaming free to the sea,
Or trapped beneath a mountain.
It seems just okay.
.
Today the sun is shine,
Just like ten thousand morning before
And hopefully, thousand morning again.
And I said to myself,
It’s just another night
Another sleepness night,
Just a circle in my fine line.
.
.
And that’s all it takes.
And they say I’m good at not exaggerate feelings.
Hell, it’s only a feeling.
.
.
I get up from my chair,
And start brushing my hair.
.
.
.
-good morning-

the demon

Its lips were thin an ascetic, and its eyes were a demon’s eyes : they had seen too much and gone too far, and under their gaze he felt less important than a fly.

“Time is fluid here,” said the demon.

-from Other People by N.Gaiman-

signed

I got Fragile Things when me and my mom were browsing in ak.’sa.ra bookstore.
I’m a big fan of Neil Gaiman’s works, since Coraline, then Neverwhere and now this.

It just came to my acknowledgement, that a movie I once saw years ago (and fell in love with its bizarre story and creatures), Mirrormask, was written by Gaiman and Dave McKean.

And so, with the ecxitement of a fresh new book in my hand, I signed it with the month and year I bought it, along with my name and signature. I know the function of the signature is so when someone borrow it, it won’t get lost. But I always think it’s romantic.

When I was a little girl, I was fascinated by my dad’s signature on every books he had. It was dated years before (some when I wasn’t even born), and so I continue the tradition, hoping someday my daughter or my son would flip through these old books and know what kind of books their mother read as they began to read it for themself.