Idealist

I am The Idealist. Even though I am stating the opposite all the time and trying to reason everybody around me I am The Idealist. Talking about life, expectations, plans, point of view. Let me tell you something, and I know I’m right on this one, life is all about your point of view, your wishes and convictions, your will. It’s maybe silly to say but Hitler’s favorite word was ‘will’, and it really is the most important thing. If you believe that you can achieve something that you wished for and if you want it strong enough it will come to you, just wish for it. I said this so many times, but we truly are only a part of the universe, Big Bang, the energy, and we, as we know for ourselves, are only a form of showing it, only a temporary form of us.
So do you think of me as an idealist? Pretty much, heh? Well, I am, an it is a double-edged sword.

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While I was talking to a friend over phone I came across this little box I got for birthday from my friends. I have never noticed the lines before and it made me wonder. People today expect some kind of perfect and true love to come around the corner looking like a gorges diva or hot knight with no armor on, to fall in love and expect for it to last. Now, if we look a bit closely what do we see?
You go out on a party and meet some hot girl/guy and ”fall in love”. He/she is perfect. Loves same type of music, is hot, beautiful, perfect, stylish, interesting, funny, you hook up, and enter the relationship. So if you’re lucky enough it can last up to a few months, years.. But what then? Then someone cheats, leaves etc. It’s because someone showed up just like you did a few years ago. Because you don’t look at it from the right perspective. If you look for a real love then it won’t shut down, the person won’t betray you, the lamp won’t go off. That is the true love, and many psychologist say as well that the love we idealise, if it exists in any form, it can’t be born out of a crush. Sure that might come later, but I wouldn’t bet on it. Love is trust and loving the person’s being, everything which makes that person, what that person is. From lashes to all kinds of laughs and moods, thoughts and opinions. If you’re looking for a chemistry love, filled with butterflies and sweaty palms while tripping over your tongue then find a hot guy/girl and hook up. You’ll have an adventure, but don’t expect it to be a true love, those are only the luckiest of lucky.

Even though I doubt in true love I am still too hopeful to accept the fact. This is a cruel world, there is so little of us idealists, while there is nothing ideal in it.

tlThis is not my picture, I found it on facebook.

Thinking Out Loud

According to Allan Watts and Maya Angelou we are all the same, we all come from the same source and that is the big bang, which every and each one of us has in him/herself. We all carry a part of rivers, stars, trees, and each other in ourselves. If a man dreams a big dream we have a part of it in us as well and we can do it, but the same stands if someone commits a crime. Maya says that we should not be afraid of anything that’s human, because it is us. But on the other hand we all judge others and their acts, we are all setting up standards, following some rules etc. We judge LGBT population and their acts, while the only thing they’re doing different from the rest is kiss a person of the same-sex. Is that so horrifying? I wouldn’t say so. We are only part of the energy, we are all one. There is no matter. The thing we call matter is only a special moment and state in which energy is showing. And we still have so many things in out head going around.

E.g. lately I have been thinking about love as many of my friends  are in those waters right now. I don’t know where am I. Maybe I am standing on a tiny rock in the middle of the river, but that’s just a wild guess. Anyhow, I have always thought that you can’t meet your other half, someone who is your soul mate, who you will marry, at early age. I have always thought that it will be in my twenties or so. Also, I have never thought that when I marry once that I will never divorce, it depends, but it has always been so weird to me to spend your whole life with just one person. Just imagine, you are sitting at your living room one night, watching TV and you should start getting dressed up for a visit to your friends. You have, let’s say, a ten-year old kid, and you look at the person sitting across of you, you look at your living room and don’t you just think ”this is so boring. There is no change, no excitement, for so long everything is the same”. Is it possible to love a person for 50 years, to feel the same as you were in your twenties? fifty years? To feel the same as you felt in your twenties? But again, how can a love simply vanish when you love someone? When you truly love the person? Not just the looks or the things he or she has? Not so many people know what the true love is. It’s not just a crush or heart racing when you see someone, it’s not just liking someone because he or she is nice and interesting. Sometimes true love, I think, can lack a few of the said things. True love is when you don’t mind if your hair is a mess and when the other person doesn’t see it as a disaster and imperfection but as a characteristic of yours. True love means that you don’t really care much if your lipstick is half a way removed or if you have chocolate around your mouth when you just ate it, yogurt on your nose when you just drank it from the cup which is sold in the bakeries. True love is when you forget about those things, when the person you’re with doesn’t mind, but loves those things about you whilst not thinking how idiotic you are. You know you love someone when you give your money when you don’t have it anymore, just so the person wouldn’t wake his or her parents and you won’t ask for it back. It’s when you leave your jacket and don’t mind if you don’t get it back for a month or so, when someone doesn’t judge you for your socks with a whole but laughs and says ”Don’t worry, I have plenty of those”. Real love is when you look at the person and think of so many things that he or she loves, does, is, all the nice things that you could do for him or her. It’s when you just need the presence of the person to feel calm, happy, complete, when you can cry, laugh or talk random things without holding back. It’s when you know that you want to be with him or her eventually. It’s when you try to keep the distance but you fail because it’s a torture, because it feels empty and cold. True love is when you’re happy when the person is happy even if you don’t agree with a choice that has been made. You know you love someone when you chose to hug the person before everyone else in hard and in bad times, when he or she is your priority.
Once my friend said that the love of your life is surely somewhere out there but the question is if you’re lucky enough to meet him/her at the right time at your life. I would disagree before but now I am questioning my conviction. Maybe there really is someone out there for us? Now there is a theory my language teacher once said and that is that there is someone made for us but it can never be realised, because of the society in most cases. Many of us would like to think that there is a person who is made just for us and I believe that there are cases of real love here and there and those people are made to be an example of real love, that is their task and purpose. I still doubt that there is one and only one person who is made for us and with whom we can achieve the real love, but I am not saying that my opinion can not be changed.
One of my friends said that we maybe can’t know who that person might be, or that we might not be aware of it, and that we should question our expectations and wishes. Now that is maybe possible if you are at some transitioning period in your life and you are changing your point of view, orientations etc. We all have a certain ideal of how our perfect love should look like, we all have a list, dreams, but if there really is our true love we would recognise it when we get to know the person, even if it’s a complete opposite of what we had in mind. We should open our minds and hearts, listen to the wind and silent whispers more, we should be at peace more.
I haven’t expected any kind of big love stories at my early age and I don’t think that we should be bound much at this age.. I also usually mentally puke when I hear the ”highschool sweethearts” phrase. You are with only one person your whole life and there is only two case scenarios which can happen. First of it is to be with that person your whole life just because you don’t know for any better and you are scared, and the other one is when the middle age crisis comes you are going to hook up with a college from the work at a business trip.

Elastic Heart

He entered the house and was expecting to see her waiting for him. His perfect little Anna. Her white, pale face, soft skin and big brown-greenish orbs with long lashes and full lips which always smile to him. A packet of white teeth showing behind the smile. He loves her with her brown long hair and long fingers with always perfect done nails. They both worked a lot and it wasn’t like before, but they love each other don’t they? Does he know what she’s thinking like before and vice versa? Maybe that’s the key problem.

He entered the house and right behind the corner in the hall way she was standing at the door at the end of it. She was leaning on the door with her hands crossed and a soft smile on her face. He smiled back as always. She would usually grin back afterwards but not so often lately, not this time. He took her face in his hands and rubbed her cheek with his thumb. She was smiling but not looking at him anymore. He sensed the mark beneath the foundation
“What happened?”
“What do you mean? Nothing”
“Who was here?”
“No one”
“Tell me what happened!”
“Nothing!”
“Who was here?!”
The first thought that ran through her head was “you” but she remained silent.
“Oh God, why are you dong this?”
Minutes ago she was pouring more drink in her glass, thinking about him, she wasn’t sure was she drunk or not, what made her drunk so much, was she angry, insane. They both just needed a break, the time to go back, to take a trip somewhere far away, to look into each other’s eyes. They still loved each other, if they didn’t they wouldn’t be in this situation right now. So she was pouring drink after drink, smashing a glass at the floor at the end, falling down in tears. Their dark-purple sheets, big bed, perfect view, everything she, they, have ever dreamed of surrounded her. She picked it up and covered a scar that glass has made. Everything seemed perfect.
He went to the kitchen
“It seems that another glass has been broken, like we had more of these” he said and turned to her. She put her hands at her back-pockets and started walking
“Probably, maybe it’s the housekeeper”
“She wasn’t here today”
“Maybe before..”
“What is happening? Why are you doing this to yourself? I can’t stand looking at you like this!”
“Well then don’t look at me” it hurt so bad to say this but what else was she left with? They were only hurting each other.
She came into the kitchen which was connected with the living room with only bar separating it. She poured more
“Stop it” he grabbed her hand while she only grinned.
“Don’t do this” he repeated while she took the glass and nonchalantly went to the living room.
“No more drink for you! Where is the rest?” He threw away the bottles he saw. She walked into the kitchen and pulled another one. He took it away and threw it as well
“Why are you doing this to me? To yourself? We said we wont ever drink and this is… what night in a row that you are drinking? I won’t let you get hooked on this shit” he pushed her away into the living room, his face inches away from hers, the window wall behind them was spilling one of the most beautiful city views, but like that mattered nothing to them. She just laughed a bit
“Are you drunk?” He asked her as she looked away and laughed through her nose. Was she drunk? Who knew that?She was numb and drunk all the time. If it wasn’t alcohol, it was him.
“I’ve got an elastic heart” she said. He knew very well what she meant by that. Her pace was slow, just like a cat. She had dark-blue jeans and a plaid shirt a bit unbuttoned, she took her necklace off. She walked barefoot and took the glass, proceeding to the bed were she sat. He climbed the bed as well and sat beside her
“You won’t ever drink again!” He took the glass and took the last sip of whiskey, throwing the glass at the wall, smashing and falling into million wet pieces. He took her by her head with one hand, pulling her hair a bit, their lips parted and wet from alcohol. Seconds passed before they smashed their whiskey lips together eager for each other, for the taste of their lips and alcohol on them. The kiss was passionate and heated, she put her hands in his hair, pulling it harder each second
“Is that clear?” He asked taking breath. She nodded her head
“If I ever see you drinking again I don’t know what I’m capable of doing” as he said the last sentence they both looked at each others eyes. He has dark, chocolate-brown eyes.
“I basically trust no one” she whispered
“Don’t you trust me?” He asked
“How can I?” She asked with worried eyes as tears escaped them
“But you are mine. Have I ever failed you?”
“Just don’t let me go, no matter what, don’t ever let me go. If I run, chase me, if I back you off, pull me closer. Reassure me and tell me that I am not right, I beg of you”
He kissed her, now with even more passion
“..never” he said through the kiss
“Let me go” she said
“Never”
He pulled her even closer
“Why are we doing this to ourselves?” She asked
He didn’t say anything, just deepened the kiss
“I love you” she said
“I love you, more than anything”

Vanilla Twilight

I just want you to hug me and not ask me anything. Don’t question my tears or smiles, neither my squeezing and nuzzling, and do not ask why am I just peacefully lying in your arms while we watch the Vanilla Twilight spill in front of us and two hot teas smoke at the window.

Do you like crying? Because I love you.

We never die

One of the all-time questions is ”Do we really die?” and I have an answer to it. We don’t. We are the part of the energy, of the universe. Laws of physics and chemistry say that  the energy can not vanish nor be made out of nothing, it can only change it’s form, so does the matter we are made of. So practically we never die, we just get different shape. If we consider the term under we(i.e. the energy and the matter we are presenting) are known now then we can observe all the things we have done, our intentions, wishes, our heart all in all. We, under the term we are known, die only when our heart dies, and our heart dies only when no one remembers it anymore, only when no one knows for it anymore, when there is no one to meet it again. Even if we sometimes think that everybody has forgotten our heart we don’t die, because there is someone who will know for our heart eventually, someone who will meet it. So basically, we never die. The term of us might eventually dies, but what importance do we have from that when we are only one in 7 billion of us. We all are one, because we are all part of the energy and the matter. We never die, we just change the form.

Rainy Paris

Rainy afternoon in Paris, the smell of coffee and croissants and smooth jazz were occupying Anna’s senses. She is having her afternoon coffee as always in a nearby cafe. Newspapers are at her table and a little white dog named Kiwi is silent and yet full of energy, going around the table, finally settling itself on a chair beside it’s owner. It’s an early autumn and the cafe on the corner where a tree is standing wide and tall with its massive and strong branches and dark-green, and now wet from the rain, leaves, is filled with dark brown chairs and tables alike. The floor is in black and white diamonds and the wall is at the lower part wooden and white, above is plastered beige tapestry with slim and little orange and brown flowers. It looks quite vintage if I may add, and the pictures of many iconic musicians are hung up. Anna is sitting at the window, the entire wall is like a window. The rain started falling harder. Tables are set without any specific order around the cafe. In the middle of the window-wall the front door are standing tall, separating the left and the right part of it. The cafe is quite empty, there are only one or two occupied tables, besides the one where Anna’s sitting, in the darkness of it. Behind her, on the right wall the bar is set. From the bar deeper into the cafe the space is shrinking and the light coming from outside is much weaker. Anna has just eaten her cookie and is half way down with finishing her latte so she is taking the newspapers and is starting reading
“Kiwi, stand still please, steady! Good boy!” As she says that she gives him a treat and continues reading an article.
The little bell hung above the door has rung and a young and handsome man entered the cafe, looking quite confused. Anna looked up to see who entered the cafe on the tree-corner, even though she never does that. She would usually immediately look away but not this time. The young man stood his ground looking where would he like to sit the most, and when he glanced over Anna he couldn’t look away either. He started narrowing his eyes but kept coming back and looking at her, at the end he flashed a small and a very insecure smile and walked towards the counter to order his drink. Anna kept looking at him and smiled when he approached the bar. The man in shallow brown boots and jeans with a white short jacket and a black coat ordered machiato. His blonde hair coming to his chin and bangs tucked behind his left ear made him look like a young boy but his strong and tall features were telling that he is a young man in his mid twenties. When he took the coffee he again glanced over Anna with the same insecure half-smile and she returned with a sincere one. He then sat at a few tables away, across the counter and beside her, where the daylight still isn’t fading. He was listening to the jazz and the strong rain, his coat was quite wet and so was his hair, the big, dark umbrella didn’t help much, and he was looking at Anna reading the newspapers and the window. She would glance over him time to time just to find his eyes glued to her more frequently than to the street with the uncontrollable half smirk, while she would shyly smile every time, hiding a bit behind the papers, her eyes slowly shifting to the all so small letters on the way too big paper. They were both enjoying the sensation of the coffee, Paris and rain. They both didn’t notice how fast the time was passing. Anna called out for the waiter and gave him a tip. The boy and her gathered their things and got outside at the same time. They looked at each other again with small smirks and tried walking their ways but bumped into each other because they were blocking each other’s ways
“Sorry!”
“Oh I’m so sorry”
“I am going that way..”
“Yeah, I’m going that one…” they said and laughed a bit. They both walked their ways, she was going to the market and he who knows where. The rain hasn’t stopped or eased either.