Category Archives: Writing
Morning Sun
Morning sun
You bring the smile on my face
You make me feel beautiful
You create the energy in me
Morning sun
I can promise you one thing
I will be smiling all day today
I shall make the best of the day
Morning sun
Let our faces be cheerful
Let the world be peace
Let our dreams come true
Morning sun
You will leave soon but
You will be back tomorrow and
You will never let us down
Dark World
3rd of January. It’s the first day of the year 2011 for most of us to go to work and the kids to go to school. The metro lines are back to the normal schedule again.
However, the world over here is so dark at 9.00am. I can see a huge yellow light on my right side. I thought it was a huge fire but it’s the round yellow moon lighting the world from another side.
White snow covering the lands, trees, etc for the last few weeks are gone. It’s showering like another ordinary day except that it’s DARKER!
Cold To The Bone
8 November 2010, Monday.
It was a very cold fresh Monday morning air when I stepped out my door, rushing to the metro as I got up pretty late this morning. My excitement had overruled my sleepiness. It was not easy to go into the dreamland. My friends and my great Uncle from England and my big sis from Germany have confirmed to come in December.
So, I thought make it BIG. Rock the city. Wake the neighbourhood up. Be crazy like old time. And have FUN!
This morning, with my mobile phone, I sent out messages to my friends from all over Europe and Scandinavia. Then, I got more positive feedback. I’m all over the moon.
The cold is forgotten for just a few seconds. Then I realised that I have to take out my long winter jacket now. It’s really getting cold to the bone. But it’s ok. As I am one happy big girl.
Rhytmn of My Life
It’s Chinese New Year evening. There is not much happening at this side of the world apart from cooking, eating, watching tv and thinking. Not to mention the part of feeling sorry for myself for being away from my beloved ones back home on these special days.
The memories of my yester years came back when I went through my old photos that I took them with me during my holiday last year July. My childhood memories of moving from one place to another. My school days at 3 different primary schools and finally my secondary school. Later when I went to work and met a lot of people and then my time in college.
Life back then was not easy. From my babyhood till when I reached adulthood. Fear was the one thing I lived by. Fear of not obtaining flying colours at school. Fear of not being liked by my new classmates and teachers in a place full of strangers. Fear of having to see my loved ones (tortured) in the power of a person who was beside the person-self. Fear of losing the person I loved to someone of something else. Fear that I would turn up to be a weak creature or even worse a monster. Fear of a lot of unmentionable things.
Courage was not one of my strengths. There was no one to encourage me to do what was best. I was left to decide myself or to just close my heart for the most important decision in my supposed to be future life. Hence I lost everything. I blamed them. I blamed Him. Yet I was the one to be blamed… for lacking of courage.
One by one of the episodes came by. Erasing them from my memory was not an easy task. They liked to be played even without a permission. There was that tune and another one. A rough one and then sweet. The wind was blowing softly and the leaves were smiling happily. When I looked up, it was that bird again. So small but so free. I wished I was a bird.
I came back into the present. The reality! I looked back at some of the photos and put them to where they belonged.
This was just the rhytmn of my life. No regrets of the past and no fear of the future. Just live the present, sprinkle it with lots of love.
Happy Valentine’s day to the past, the present and with God’s will, the future. My Dear!
A Dream
Looking up at the blue sky while sitting at the veranda of my parents´ house, I felt so calm. I knew I still had things to do: finding some specific photos from my old albums. The photos of a person whom had ruled my heart from ages ago when we were still teenagers, more than 2 decades ago. But I thought the searching could wait, so I closed my eyes.
The memory of last night´s dream hit me. Why? After all these years? Why was I shown that specific face? Without words, without a smile nor a tear. The face. Why was it so calm? It showed thousands things but also showed nothing at all. I wanted to ask, I wanted to say something but my tongue was numb. I failed again. Then I turned to Him up there. “Dear God, what is the meaning of this all? What are You trying to tell me?” It was quiet. I heard nothing. The face, I couldn´t forget. It was so calm. He was calm.
I opened my eyes. I remembered the dream last night. I missed the face. It had been one and a half decades after the last episode. “How is he doing now? Does he still hate me? Does he know that I´m still alive? Does he care at all?” I looked up again. Felt like shouting but I couldn´t blame Him. I couldn´t blame myself nor him. What did the dream mean? Why did he come again after all these years? Until when would this torture end?
I looked down and saw the greens. I thought to myself, it was nothing but a dream. So, I got up from the seat and went to start looking for those precious photos of my dear one.
Blank
I am overflown with ideas but when I start to write, my mind is blank. How am I going to continue what I have already started when it does not want to work happily with me?
This seems to torture me all the time. When I’m in the bathroom, taking a hot shower or while I’m away without a pen and a paper.
At night, before going to bed, I visit my “sanctuary” (my little library also called study room) to sit down and look around. Then, I will browse the bookshelves and pick a book, randomly open a page and read its content. I’ll put it back and pick another one and do the same. Then I’ll carry one or two to my bedroom and try to read a paragraph or two or even pages. That’s when it’s not the story about a girl abducted by a gorgeous looking Highlander.
At these moments, I normally get loads and loads of ideas. But as it’s already time for bed, I’ll just switch off the reading light and start with a new journey for the night to dreamland.
Love Hurts
Photo Courtesy of Megan Montgomery
They say love is a wonderful thing to happen. Some people say it’s enough just to be in love. Then there is a phrase that love is blind. Whatever happens, the love at present stays similar to the love from the past.
It could be. But, do you believe in “love is everything”? What about trust, honesty, loyalty, respect and understanding? Haven´t they got a space in that area called love?
So many cases spouses being abused by the husbands or even wives, children by their parents, teachers or people around them, animals by those who are heartless. And yet, they accept their faith.
Love does hurt.
P.S. This note is just a random fact upon getting 2 photos taken by my new friend, Megan Sue of Arkansas, United States this evening CET time.
My Morning Call
Wild plants from home
I was picking up some flowers in the wild and trying to put them in the basket when I heard a beautiful melody played in the background. Looking at my back, I said to myself: “Ah, there is a wedding ceremony going on”.
It kept on playing in my ears and I felt like telling it to stop as it played and played around me without thinking of stopping. I thought it was a lovely melody but I needed to do something. Yes! Something..
I was awake. The melody I just heard in my dream was still there.
I opened my eyes. Then my mind came back/into the real world. Oh no! It’s the telephone, next to my side of the bed.
A wake up call, as usual.
We greeted each other and I said “Yes, I’m getting up already.” I put down the phone and so was I in another world… AGAIN.
Half an hour later, another sound got into my-perfect-life-in my other world. Without knowing it consiously, I did something and it went off. Right! “5 more minutes. I promise!”
So it went for the rest of every 15 minutes until I was sure that it was time to really open my eyelids and look around.
In the next 15 to 30 minutes, one might think that the house was having a nightmare. What with the running and almost flying sound…
The imperfect little me.
