Τρίτη, 26 Ιουλίου 2011

Where is my mind..?

I walk through rusted leaves. I wield my toes to crush them over and keep moving towards the direction I am supposed to follow. Dark clouds cover the sky's lenghts. Although there still is light, I fear the worst.

The wind moves the leaves on the trees as much as the rusted ones. I stumble on them with my dress. My hair are mazy, a handful of leaves locked in the long curls. I feel cold, helpless. But still, I am sure of what I am doing. I have walked these woods since the beginning of time, since humans could never imagine a place like this in their heads; the beauty of the nature, the mystery of the woods, the clearness of the sky. Beauty I would soon be unable to remember myself.

While walking, I can feel the spirits of my ancestors, a race much better, much stronger, much calmer than the Dark Age that followed them. People-sized beings with gigantic power and enormous amount of knowledge. What an honor to be accompanied by such superior existances on my last journey. I see no sign of them. I merely feel them. What a feeling, though.

Suddenly, the wind blows harder, pushing me to a slight different direction. This is it, I think. It has finally come to an end. The wind keeps blowing harder and by now I am on the verge of losing my balance. I feel no fear now. I know what I am expecting. I am almost.... happy. A sweet numbness has taken over me.

Finally, I reach my destination. A small glade appears as I reach closer. A woman stands at the opposite edge. I move to reach her but she raises a hand and moves towards me. We meet in the middle. The wind has seazed.

I turn to look at her. We are identicals, as expected, with a difference or two. Her dress is black, opposite to my white one. Also, her eyes and hair are black as well, while mine are light brown. I remember my third father of the Dark Age telling me that I have the color of honey in me, and that it was revealed on my features. The woman standing opposite to me was different, pitch-black, blank, almost.

Her eyes sparkled, still blank, depthless. A contradiction. She smiled a beautiful smile and her gaze fell directly on me. Another contradiction, since I was under the impression she was looking at me from the moment I entered the glade.

I was the first to speak. "I am here."

She didn't respond immediately. Instead, she rose her head to the sky. It was dark now, something I hadn't noticed. I stared at the moon.

"You have indeed", she answered. I turned to look at her. "I hoped you would."
"You know I would. It is, after all, your job to know."
"You cannot escape your fate", she responded.
"I didn't want any of this to happen. I never wished for it. I dreaded it", I hurried, before she moved to do what she was about to do.
"Oh, I know. Nobody ever does. The ones that have are truelly fit for the place you fear you may go", she said in a serene tone, still smiling.
"Do you know? Where I am to go?" I asked quickly. I was afraid, but calm. I didn't know how it was managed. Maybe it was happening because I was around her.
She didn't answer my question. "Close your eyes, Morning Star" she said.
I did as instructed. All my senses were heightened. I could feel the brisk wind blowing back again. I could smell the dampness in the ground. I could hear my breath, fast and shallow, and hers almost inaudible.

I couldn't bear the pending. I peeked at her, and she gave me one last, tranquil smile and then I felt no more.










I was swimmin´ in the Carribean
Animals would hide behind the rocks.
Except the little fish
But he told me east was west
Tryin' to talk

With your feet in the air , and your head on the ground
Try this trick and spin it! Yeahh!
Your head will collapse, but there's nothing in it
And you'll ask yourself?

Where is my mind?
Where is my mind?
Where is my mind?
Way out, in the water see it swimmin´?

Πέμπτη, 14 Ιουλίου 2011

If I were...

Μία ιδέα από ένα άλλο μπλογκ... μου κίνησε το ενδιαφέρον. Σας καλώ όλους να κάνετε το ίδιο. Προσθέστε, αφαιρέστε, κρατήστε ό, τι θέλετε. :)

If I were a month, I’d be September.

If I were a day of the week, I’d be Sunday.

If I were a time of day, I’d be the early dawn.

If I were a planet, I’d be Pluto.

If I were a historical figure, I’d be John Wilmot.-

If I were a sea animal, I’d be a jellyfish.

If I were a liquid, I’d be rosewater.

If I were a direction, I’d be north.

If I were a piece of furniture, I’d be a secreter. Or the hugest bed of all.

If I were a gemstone, I’d be an amethyst.

If I were a tree, I’d be a walnut tree.

If I were a flower, I’d be an evening primrose.

If I were a tool, I’d be a blade.

If I were a kind of weather, I’d be a typhoon.

If I were an emotion, I’d be sorrow.

If I were a state of mind, I 'd be insanity.

If I were a musical instrument, I’d be the cello.

If I were a color, I’d be royal blue.

If I were a fruit, I’d be a peach.

If I were a sound, I’d be the rustling leaves. Or an unbearable noise.

If I were an element, I’d be a Higgs particle :P

If I were a car, I’d be a 60's beetle.

If I were a cartoon, I'd be the Coyotte.

If I were a food, I’d be a mud pie.

If I were a place, I’d be a forest full of secrets. Or a magic theatre scene.

If I were a material, I’d be raw silk.

If I were a taste, I’d be a bittersweet taste.

If I were a scent, I’d be cinnamon.

If I were a body part, I’d be the eyes. Or the mouth.

If I were a music genre, I would be folk.

If I were a fictional character, I 'd be Lenna Duchannes.

If I were a marshal art, I would be the Roman wrestling.

If I were a demon, I would be Aggramon.

If I were an Angel, I have no idea what I would be.

If I were an acrobatic, I would be the wheel.

If I were a building, I would be a victorian abbey.

If I were a believer, I would be a Wiccan.

If I were an item, I would be a zippo lighter.

If I were a Caster, I would have torn the moon apart.

If I were a painting I would be of no recognition.

If I were a form of art, I would be poetry.

If I were a person, I wouldn't be me.

Παρασκευή, 8 Ιουλίου 2011

Having someone to talk to.

Αν και περιοδικά σκέφτομαι πως κάποια πράγματα έχουν περισσότερη σημασία από ό, τι φαίνεται να έχουν, συνεχίζω να το ξεχνάω εφόσον παραμένω σωστή κυνική.

Το να έχεις κάποιον να μιλάς και να ξαλαφρώνεις... ναι, ακούγεται κλισέ, τετριμμένη ατάκα, αλλά τουλάχιστον δεν σε κάνει να θέλεις να κλάψεις... όσο ήθελες πριν. Προσπαθώ να βρω έναν πιο... περίτεχνο τρόπο να το πω, ωστόσο προτιμώ να είμαι ο λιγότερο μαλάκας εαυτός μου αυτή τη στιγμή και να μπω στην θέση του εφήβου που έχω το δικαίωμα να είμαι.

Σύντομη και αυτή η καταχώρησή μου μεν, περιεκτική δε.


Σε ευχαριστώ που είσαι στην ζωή μου, νονά. Τίποτα άλλο. Είσαι από τους ανθρώπους για τους οποίους είναι περιττό να πλέξεις εγκώμιο.