Without a Care in the World

And I'd wake up to your face everyday.
We start roaming the streets and entertain ourselves by making fun of everyone around us, eating, drinking and some more eating.
We'd go book shopping and start to realize that we badly want stuff that we don't need.
You'd make fun of my outfits and the authors I like.
I'd make fun of your rigid ideas and solids.
We'd be groupies for local music bands and take long walks towards the unknown.

Judge Me....

Judge me because you know exactly what I’ve been through.
You know how many times I got my heart broken and how many times I broke hearts.
You know I lost two of the closest people to my heart at an early age, before I can absorb the concept of loss and how sometimes nothing can be a fair compensation.
You know I struggle to walk, just walk, in the streets of this city.
And of course you know how many times I get verbally or physically sexually harassed every day.
Judge me.
Because you can feel me, because you know how to reach for me.
Because you know I had to learn it the hard way.
Because you know where I am coming from and where I’m heading.
And of course you can see all the things I hate to see.
Judge me.
Because you know how many times I was let down.
How many times I got up and asked for more.
You know what I believe in and you know how much I embrace life no matter what.
And naturally you would know how it is not always about you.
Judge me, to feel better about your own miserable self.

27th of October

Why does everything keep pushing you closer while everybody is pushing you away? Is it possible for a human being to love another unconditionally be the bond between them artificial? How come it is so easy to be around you yet so wrong and sinful? Why does inspiration hit me so hard when my heart is blue? I feel the distance between us growing stronger yet I find it hard to resist the apathy.
Yesterday was a black morning, the kind of black that takes all the colours up to build. I was blinded by the urge to touch your skin.
I blogged the afternoon away and caught a movie with a bunch of friends, I don’t recall the conversations that were going back and forth. All I thought about was how right I am and how wrong everybody is.
I spent the evening dwelling and analyzing. It makes me sad that I don’t write as much now.

This morning was a white morning, cream white. I finished some stuff I’ve been putting up for months and felt a little bit achieved.

Today I decided to be the version he would fight everything for.

I could’ve talked to him about me not feeling fulfilled lately. I’m not studying, writing or reading. However, I decided not to bitch and actually do something about it. I bought a book, arranged my schedule and reflected on the day. I needed input so I went through a few pieces by writers that never disappoint me.

A friend of mine offered a ride home in the evening and I sat on the back seat, checked that I can open my window from my door without asking him to do so. I’m not that claustrophobic, yet I need to know there is a way out whenever needed.

I want to create my own story, to take one decision and follow it till the end.

Yet I Chose to Be Free from You

It was a random day yet I can’t throw the plastic cup with a little bit of lemonade left.
A colourful day at last, after so many greys that I can’t even tell them apart.
Sea, randomness, awkwardness and thoughts.
Today I’m not wondering about you.
I’m under the sun singing and building castles in the sky without you chasing them away.
This is beyond the point of giving up.
I won’t look back in anger.
I'm on the swing again.
Am I getting the restrictions without the benefits?

The Show Must Go On

It's time I fell in love with a new book and a new band.
It's that season again when I decide to reintegrate myself within my skin.
It's time I stopped the world from ending and understood how it feels like to be lonely but not alone.
It's time I dis attach and over look your own miserable self.

Inspire Me Back Home.

Now, a perfect moment to reflect. While the memory is still fresh in my mind.
What could be more comfortable?
The Ruby sunset on a highway.
Millions of thoughts floating around.
Cold wind blowing my hair into shape and my thoughts out of my head.
His skin and my scent.
Now is all I know and care about.
No explanations, no whispers, just colours…….lots of them.
And tomorrow it is all gone. I’m all busy and she gives him the attention he deserves.
Me?
I fool around till yet another perfectly coloured day.
My lips are still wet and my head is full of dreams undreamt.
The illusion of him rests for a while and I wait until the wait is over.
I dream about having my own space with no restrictions.
I think about my muse, my soul-mats, my friends, and my social circle just to keep myself from thinking about my own problems.
A warm phone call and a promised to a secured future end my day.
We talk of fantasies and desires not of facts and information.
Dare to drift into my land. Dig my diamonds, name the stars shinning in my sky, explore what’s beneath my waters and reveal what whispers my air carries around.

The Passenger Seat

How could you allow yourself in till that extent?
Of me, not being able to breathe because of you.
The picket fence is a wire, the wine is grape juice.
Plastic and copper, cardboard and synthetic.
I wish you were here with me, when I start to realize the meaning of things.
We should’ve understood the meaning of things together.

What's Up With Me and Men and Their Guitars?

And I miserably fail to understand how someone can turn into old love letters and meaningless dedications on front pages of unread books in splits of seconds, into negative vibes and dry words that shock upon uttering, into something that happened in another life time to someone else, definitely not to you.
How all the things make sense in a different sense now.
It is not the end of the world, but rather a different ending to the world.
A distant beautiful inspiration sends its sparks and fades into different horizons, spreading its beauty elsewhere.
I bought a pink lips shaped phone that I find gorgeous.
I have The Beatles lighting up my apple green bedroom wall.
David Gilmore is a god.
This is everything you need to know about me.

Pictures and Bonds

I was flipping through some of my old pictures. Pictures lie sometimes. When those pictures were taken, they felt like they would last forever. Half the people on those pictures I don’t even know anymore, some of them I no longer want to know. A selective few survived with me, year after year, heartache after the other, a break down or the happy news. It makes me wonder about friends and the type of events that make their bond either weaker or stronger.
Do those who survived love you more?
Do they stick around only because you know who to deal with their flaws?
Are they there because they merely enjoy your company?
Do they need to know they have someone who gets the check in case of emergency?
Do they sincerely like you?
Do they feed on your insecurities to feel better about themselves?
What makes friends friends?
What makes the bond fade away after a while and what makes it survive?

Married couples who fell in love before they were married would have tons of pictures all around the house, everyday pictures.
Couples who married for other purposes would have one picture in their reception on their wedding night.

The first born baby in the family gets the most pictures.

I never realized the number of pictures of my grandfather in my grandparents’ house until I went there one afternoon after his funeral. They all looked smiling and even more alive than before.

The First 15 Minutes of Today

I woke up.
Headed to the Kitchen.
We were out of coffee.
I can't start my day without coffee.
Crap!
I went back to my room.
With innocent intentions decided to turn on the lights.
The bulb burned down.
Crap!
I sat on my desk.
Turned on my laptop.
The electricity was cut out.
Crap!
I decided to take a shower.
The water was cut out too.
Why does the world conspire against my nervous system!!

The Unsent Postcard

While I was touring Europe with my friends this summer I remember promising you a postcard from every place I go.
I remember keeping that promise, I remember never forgetting you for a single second while I was away. I swear i could sense you in the details of everything new I see.
I swear I could smell you while waiting for the train.
Like God and Starbucks, you were everywhere.

I went away just recently. Something about going away reminds me of you, something about being distant and alone, something about rushing everything and being tired all the time, something about seeing something new.

I couldn't have sent you a postcard this time.
You are no longer mine.
It should've read:

"I hope your choices make you happy and your analysis lead you somewhere,
Adieu,

Survival, Bliss

But why else would I move between two extreme character norms? Unless someone is controlling the way I function indirectly, fooling around with my ideas. And who else would that be other than my own mind.
Last night I couldn’t sleep thinking about how uncreative I’ve become when it comes to my writings. Among other things I thought about was how hard it is to make a song, how hard it is to make something that actually inspires people, and of course the timeless idea that relationships shouldn’t be that hard unless they are not working in the first place.
You deal with your friends on daily basis as well as your family. Why is it any different when it comes to the significant other? Is it because more friction would naturally cause more tension? Is it pure physics after all?
I want to study mathematics again, to continue cherishing the small things that make me happy (no matter what he thinks), to further investigate the spiritual side of life, to drive without directions, and to cook something this week.
Whoever said that I want the best of both worlds was damn right. And it is not such a bad thing, because you know what’s best for you more than anybody.
I know what I want.
To live in a comfortable relationship and save the ammunition for all the other things I need to fight everyday in order to survive.

Incapable of Mistakes

Does it feel the same way in your world?
This undefined relationship, where does it go?
You ask what’s wrong with me.
I realize I’m all cranky and tense because you are not giving me the attention I feel I deserve.
I realize how sick needing attention is.
I realize how sick it is to need your attention specifically.
I realize how sick all of this is.
And yes I don’t want to talk about it, and yes I feel lost and yes you are not making it easier on me with this heavy door selection policy of yours.
Why is it impossible to get this kind of security without the excessive demands on the other hand?
Why can’t you admit to yourself that I am incapable of mistakes, just like yourself.
I want to see you again, and feel like it is my first time seeing you.
I lose concentration to the extent of staring at the tap waiting for it to start pouring water on its own, to the extent of not being able to tell my toothbrush from my sister’s.
Face it,
You don’t need me.
You can fit anybody into this mold and create a whole new substitute for me in days that turn into months. I’m not built to be just another someone.
Why bother, aye?