Sunday, January 17, 2010

When I grow old...

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My friend Jolie tagged me to play with my imagination and see myself oldie. Hehe! When I was a child I used to imagine me as a grown up, but I think I never passed my university years. I think I could see myself change physically, but we never know what life may bring.
So, let`s play a little!

The sun was leaving its lost beams caressing the sand. A glow of gold in corners and one could think a mine of that precious metal has raised from the earth. No shadows, no waves. The sea was quiet and in a dark turquoise.
It was warm, but a breeze was tickling the air with a smell of shells and plants. From time to time the breeze was scenting the air with a mix of a youthful laugh and the bird’s song.
Where the sand ended it was an edge of river stones and then a path that entered into the grove.
She was sitting in a lounge chair not far from the edge, but still keeping the water under her perfect sight. Her legs were bent a little from her knees to be fully covered under her dress. She was wearing a white simple dress tight at her waist with a girdle made of two broad ribbons. In her lap was resting a closed book with hologram covers, the newest fantasy on the market. She still preferred the old versions. A shawl, in a tent of very light blue, was covering her shoulders leaving her arms free from the elbows. Her skin looked wrinkled and cold. Her hair was tight in a simple plait falling at one side of the shawl. Her face looked fresh and serene. A touch of a smile was waiting to embellish her face. Her eyes twinkled absent and gazed at the horizon.
Near her a white table was holding a silver tray with an empty cup from which it hanged down a thread with a small label at its end. Closer to her side was a notebook with a lid like a screen repeating some drawings and messages.
She wasn`t paying attention to any of her closer surroundings.
Her thoughts were tracking her back, back to an age when she could barely speak. One by one shadows of the past came by turns in the mirror of her eyes. Suddenly, her eyes felt to her hands- she opened her palms and looked at the lines craved in her skin. She touched with her fingers from the right hand the lines in her left hand. She stopped at the bottom of the life line and smiled. Then she looked back to her right hand and compared the lines.
“So many lines” she thought. “So many experiences bad and good tracked in nowhere.”
But she was smiling almost to laugh.
Once, when she was very young, an old psychic has looked at her palms as well and told her she will travel and she will have many experiences. She did travel… a lot. She did see the beauty and the misery of the world. She searched, she found or she understood. And as much as she could she trapped it in quiet words.
A breeze of laugh reminded her of her descendents and she knew that they will not be her, they will not fallow, but a grain of her soul will be carried on enjoying the mystery of Earth life.
She gazed at the sea again. In the corner of her sight a young man in a white shirt with his pants turned up till his knee and empty feet, was hauling a rope to bring a boat to the shore. When he finished his work, he turned his face towards her. His hair was dark, and his traits very beautiful, but the brightness of the sun was covering his face leaving to the view just a smile and shining eyes of an indescribable color. He was waiting for her.
She stretched her hand to reach him or give him a sign, but the shadow vanished in a blaze of beams.
Her eyes almost filled with tears, but she kept smiling.
“See you in another life, my dear friend”
One hand in her lap, almost covering the image of the book, and the other felt down, her fingers touching the sand.
Not far behind, the angelic voice of her grand-children embellished the sun set.
“I`m sleeping in the cradle of the sky”

Note: Picture by ScutuStudios

The joy of having a child

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Remember Kevin? The Niagara story…

Ok, he got some great expensive presents this Christmas…, but Santa decided that some small gadgets may be left apart. Yap, but Kevin can live without…so he is trying for a while to negotiate with his parents for some of this things.

“Ok, said his mum. But, you have to take money from your piggy bank.”
( like those money do not come from the parents – as well, but...)
“Hooray! I have money! No problem.”
“Hm, I have to think what other debts you have with me…so, you`ll have less money in your piggy bank.”

“Me debts with you?” asked Kevin surprised.
“Yes, for everything we do for you.”
“Hum, I think is different in this case. You are in debt with me.”
“For what ?” asked his mum.
“I offered you all this years the chance of joy for having a child.”
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Sunday, January 10, 2010

The violence of love

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Love is such a complex subject... yet, I only want to touch one part this time.We all have somehow an amazing feeling of love inside of us for someone- even if it is a parental, brotherhood, friendly or inter-sexual love.
The reverse...someone is having the same amazing feeling towards us. Love should be cherished, respectful and bringing joy - to both sides, of course. That`s the thing about love- it requires two persons- the sender and the receiver. It may not be reciprocal - but it requires a certain agreement between parts. You may not answer the same way to that feeling – But…
When does love start to bother you? To annoy you? Or even to hurt you?

How long are going to let those feelings of yours or his/hers to interfere with your own values and make you suffer?
Sometimes you don`t even realize that you are suffering you are just frustrated.
Love should be supportive and releasing from any stress. The reverse is when love becomes violent.
And you don`t want to interfere with the situation because the base is still love.
You deny yourself many things just to please the other person. You submit yourself to a lot of moral pressure just because you are too scared to push your attacker away or just because you don`t realize it.
Shall I give you some examples?

How many times did your parents told you they don`t want you to start a band because is just a silly hobby that will never bring you anywhere even if you adore music and even if you got some talent. Moreover, you ended up making spares and having a dusted guitar in your room.
You still don`t wear that amazing t-shirt you adore when you meet with your friend J. because she said to your face "this is the ugliest thing i`ve ever seen!" - Yap, that`s not a very strong example.
How about that time when you renounced to take the boxing courses because at that hour your boyfriend/girlfriend was free and wanted to spend that time with you, plus he/she finds boxing too aggressive.
How about when jealousy sticks around? How about when you got bruises on your face and other scars, from the other person? Did you receive flowers, tears and promises?
Did you move on or did you forgive and forget?
The problem is that we all deal with this ugly staff at a certain level.
Are we strong enough to eliminate the problem or we are living with it? There are many associations that fight to encourage you to stop being a victim of violent love- physically and morally. However, are you ready for the change?
Are you ready to accept that love may be hurtful? Are you ready to take distance? Are you ready to admit that this love isn`t any good for your own peace? What do you do in this case?
If you are a child, or a person that can`t take care of herself- call an association for help! If you are on your own feet, it comes just to a personal decision. Communication may be a solution, third part help may be another. Acceptance?! However, think also of the consequences of your choice – not for a day or two- but for a longer period.