I am game

Cap ou pas cap? Truth or dare! I am game! I am always game on beautiful beginnings. I am there. I am the best version of myself when the future looks bright, when the present is good to me and the pleasure of slowly discovering new land is at its high. Good beginnings make me the most enthusiastic of first-try-ers. And the best of possibilities just seem to sweep me up my feet. And I am the nicest person you can be around, but... HA! There's always a but. Yes, when the beginnings look good, my face is smiling, my eyes are full of hope, but my speech is at its most boring shape. It denies the pleasure, it kills the enthusiasm and limits the joy. My speech is like the old sister, who's still a maid and hates love stories and knows best that there's no happy ending.

Still on second thought, the old maid masque is just a cover that protects the perfect feeling of all harm - not to be jinxed, not to get chipped in any way. It allows bystanders to get a short glimpse of the way I feel, but not interfere in the happy cocoon except for a couple of people that bring light in that small cavity, beating in melodic rhythms. For them I am game!  

silent strike

Whenever I go on strike, I go silent. When I disapprove, I leave. When there's a fight, I whisper. When there's violence, I hide under the covers. It's not a form of ignorance. It's a self defense mechanism. I hate negative sounds - shouts, yells and crashing things on the floor. I can fight back, I say my part like in a very quiet and intense monologue, hear you out until you're decent. When there's the first boom, I go silent. The crash makes me run away and the bang, well, on my way up north, I can feel only my inner bang screaming out its disappointment.

Once we've reached the monologue and the debate, it's clear we've tried our best, it's too late to give it one more shot since we're still disagreeing. So when I try to make you smile, you say I'm being a child, when I try to take you dancing, you say there's no time for that, when I get busy trying to find a solution, you say I think too much. So I go on strike. Shhh! On a silent strike.

And finally, it all works out. I am me and you are you, both fine separately. If you can't speak in a tone near mine, if can't hum at my la-la-la's, if you can't sing the duet, it's best to leave it all. 

needy

I noticed one interesting thing about me lately. I use more and more I need than ever before. Of course, I want, I crave for, I tackle, I set my mind on things, but I mostly need. Until recently there was only place for desires and wishes, for pampering and indulging myself moments.

People say that it's important to have what you want, but it's more important to get what you need. So I guess, my speech matured itself in front of me and is pushing me to grow up. I don't complain actually, it's all good. Better than wasting my time on useless obsessions, I could focus on my needs, the real gaps that need to become full and abundant.

And I realize that I need simple things. Don't get me wrong, simple isn't easy. Simple is clean, simple is honest, simple is normal, simple is warm, simple is truly magnificent. As simple as a hug, as simple as a sunny day, as simple as a great conversation, as simple as a funny comment, as simple as a love song. And I need all that and more. Yet, all that makes me needy when my arms are cold, when the sun is grey, when I have a monologue in my head, when there's no "like" on your post and no love in the song. But needy is the adult here stating the list to survive beautifully, the adult not afraid to say out loud: I need!

good morning to you!

We all fall in love, we all confess our love and at some point we all stop talking sweet. I just ran into this song last night and kept thinking on how people choose to say their first I like you, I love you or I want to be by your side. Some wait for the other to say it first, some play hard to get and only show it and others just speak their minds in big (more or less romantic) gestures. I wait until the smile is returned and then there's no stopping to i. I play cautious and don't jump to things until I'm certain about what I really feel. But yes, I say I like you and then I love you in all ways I can. Mostly, I love like in a lovesong: sweet, panicky, obsessive and playful. And don't stop, only pause.

But for now, "in case I don't see you good afternoon, good evening and good night!"

obsession

There is a saying about obsessions. That they are intense and leave you shortly after. But I don't entirely agree. Sure, there is a kind of light obsessions, the ones that hit you hard and disappear instantly. And then there are the feelings that slowly grow inside you and then turn into a deep long lasting dependence and finally the great obsessions that are carved for life in your dna.

 I, for one, live on obsession mode.

Little things turn my world upside down for a second, a minute, an hour or even a week. And then, there are the big obsessions, the ones that get me craving, that keep me wondering, that make me fidget and despair until I get them in your grasp tightly. Oh, those could be the real deal. But these ones appear when I least expect them and take shape and start controlling me gradually. And they die the same way, piece by piece.

The supreme obsessions are the ones that sweep me off my feet from the start, that make my knees weak and reduce me to a junkie state of being. They never leave me, they have sculptured a soft spot in my heart and even when latent they feed from my weaknesses and beat at the same time with me. I'm not afraid of them, my luxury obsessions are signs of truth, of passion and endurance. I embrace them, offer them sugar and spice and even when they hurt, it means I have done good, that I am honest and I'm in love indefinitely with a couple of life's offerings and they will make a great story for my diary.

and nothing

I got my travelling kit ready. My stomach is full of butterflies and my bag full of surprises. Handmade surprises. And I'm waiting for the sign to take the jump.

While I am waiting, there's just a deceiving peace. Nobody makes a move and no soul whispering let's go. And still I'm ready. But the lack of an accomplice only makes way for a stubborn hesitation deep down inside. I become unable to go solo and say to myself: go! Sometimes there's no us, it's just an I; no door is broken down, no questioned is answered and you have to be the sign you are waiting for. I have to be the sign.

I look in the mirror and smile, it smiles back. It should be enough, I'm good to go, but wait, I see a flaw in my hair styling, maybe I should stay some more and fix it to look better and my dress could use some ironing too. Ah, the journey is still waiting for ...me, for me to accept all travelling conditions.

oh so quiet

I don't know other people that are terrified of silence as I am. I am so afraid of the lack of noise, of movement, of life. When it's quiet, I smell death. I hate when silence means there's nothing left to talk about, there's nothing left to share, nothing to be played as music to my ears. Those times I sing, I yell from the bottom of my screaming heart, of my hungry heart feeding itself from beautiful sounds, from the rhythm of your voice, of your moves and breathes. And when I sing to cover the silence, it's almost like having surgery, like cutting deep down inside of me and taking the rotten parts out. It's exhilarating, but it leaves an empty space. To be filled.

Now I have a couple of holes that sing songs of sorrow, I let them hum. And they keep humming deep hard tones that bleed inside. But my internal hemorrhage is drowning my own voice. And I am no backing vocals to settle for whoop whoop and pa ra ra ras that you can barely hear. I am the lead singer, I know it. And so I yell back and the holes keep bleeding.

And it's still oh so quiet. Maybe I should try and have a break of silence. I may die a little, but I will come back with a stronger voice. The one that deserves at least an entire album. And I will patch the holes with sweet whispers and sweet people. When I am ready, I'll even remix some of the sorrow holes. And then the real producer will step up and will hear my true voice. But, you, can you actually hear me?

(un)conditional

I feel it unconditionally. I know it, no doubt about that. I express it no matter what and to the intensity of my feelings for a while. Here the limitations start because at one point I cannot continue giving without receiving, I cannot put myself out there and expect nothing in return, I just cannot. Can you?
But I continue feeling and knowing and hoping.

And the beat goes on and I float in our dreams and my feelings when they keep me at surface. When they start interfering with my swim, I lose control and the water covers more and more until I feel like drowning. That's when I need a life vest. There is always one by our side, we just have to see it. And the feelings that used to lead me to my wanted destination now make me fight to survive. Now, their place is right in the back of my heart. Though they remain as true as before, they lost priority for there was no support in real life to feed them to their fullest. Slowly I will start floating again, for the moment I just fight. Forever Dolphin Love.

By the way, has anyone seen my life vest? It's purple, green and nude pink and it has lots of hearts on it.

hush!

Whenever you feel like falling, be sure not to let people know. It will be hard to advance in the fog when you can't see anything clear and the ground keeps falling underneath your feet. But hey, getting dirty is ok especially when you feel like it. But while washing the dirt of your favorite dress, don't cry, don't be sad, act proud you've had the courage to get all dressed up and get deep in the mud.

So hush and try! Today's fog will make the way for a sunny sky.

pretty please

General rule - we all desire things we don't have. Individual rule - I desire things especially when it's impossible to have them. And I add to my wishlist a pretty please. Won't you just come if I blink twice, if  I ask with my whole heart and I promiss to behave well?

Well, things aren't that simple, even when all the right arguments on your side, when you try really hard and you think you deserve it.

So I sometimes just let it be and wait for December to come with snow and everything I need. As long as nobody tells me there's no chance to get there, I hope and I stay quietly in my corner singing Christmas carols in July and planning the perfect December.

What do you do when December comes and it's not quite like you have imagined it? I say pretty please once more and wish for it whenever I get the chance to make a wish. But my wish won't come true until all the stars are aligned and the moon is full. So I stand unsyncronised until all the others allign to my December spirit. That may take time, but oh, when that December comes it shall be mine and it shall be brilliant.

So I wrap myself in ribbons and pretty lights, I shine on others as much as I can and share my generousity. Because I want to carry them home and until they come, I will have prepared the perfect  magic setting.

for no reason

 

and for no one, yes! this is a post for no one and the song is dedicated to nobody. It's the beat that wakes up from the state of lingering about and gets you to reach out. Out to no one in particular and to all, by extension. 

Today I woke up feeling active, feeling good and for no reason. It was just my social mood opening me to the world and my smile said: hey you, haven't talked in a while! I missed your ways of mingling in my life and the weird encounters you set for me, but now I guess I'm ready for the next round.

And today I tried to smile a bit more and tomorrow even more if possible. But to no one really, just to the world and for me.

So open up the door and let me in, I've been saving smiles!

change

They say people don't change, but I feel that change is mixed in almost everything new we do. We try different things, we take on new challenges and find ourselves essentially the same, but distinctly changed. Change is good, it adds experience and determines feelings and inner strengths that you didn't know existed in you until then. Yes, it may bring suffering, it may cause pain, it may seem hard, but it's the only way to reach the real you, your best well shaped self that's carefully wrapped up in layers that you have to peel off to set free. As any "facial", the process will leave marks and will hurt to a certain extent, the final result will show your better skin, all light up and glowing, outlining your beautiful authentic features.

But what is interesting about change is that it's not that personal. I feel the need to change is influenced by people around us - close ones or simply acquaintances. A powerful meeting, even if it's a singular event may plant a seed in your heart or mind and be the reason for your next change.

People influence you in various ways - they can inspire you to want more and try harder, they may force you to feel powerless, they can carry you in their roller-coaster and have a taste of another rhythm of living. I am mostly afraid and at the same time intrigued by the people that simply come in your life and wake up emotions and reactions you have never been aware of before. They take you to a new level, where you discover that control is not that easy to achieve and where feelings rule to the point that you're just the tool to express them. Now there's a panic :) Yet, losing control is not such a bad thing; from time to time it's even recommended. And sometimes I let go and hope that this change will bring a new happy experience. And in those moments, you may find me taking different shapes and trying new positions.

And if people influence me, I do the same to them. To those who really shake my inner core I can only hope that the feeling is mutual, done in my own manner, as positively as possible. And wish that I can move them also and that in our common mutually inspired movement, we will reach a perfectly synchronized dance.

all through my coffee break time

I have always loved this song and with time, I realized that this is my song. It's not my favourite, it's not the most fun or groovy, but it defines the way I love. I love in the morning all through my coffee break, while running for the bus, when I chill all by myself, when I breathe.

It defines the honesty and intensity of my feelings.
Answer my prayer, now!

dancer or non-dancer?

That is an essential question - excuse me, sir/madam, do you dance? It says a lot about you, about how you express yourself, how you move in the world. For example, when walking on the street and humming a funky song, do you shake your ass just a little bit? do you imagine doing a pirouette or keep a rapid pace to fit the rhythm? I do! And it feels just like it should :)

If you're a dancer, you're probably more fun and open. But I kind of like the watchers too in their mysterious way of observing the others while dancing and enjoying the moment. I often wonder if they are mind-dancers, holding all those moves in their head.

What I don't like is seeing people simulating a good time with their arms up in the air with partial moves of their shoulders and knees. It's like eating just from the side of the dish the ingredients that decorate the plate.
And they occupy the dance floor for nothing.

If I were to have my own club, I would create two sides - for dancers and non-dancers. Semi-dancers not allowed. At the entrance you'll be asked: dancer or non-dancer? It is as simple as that - you jump in the rhythms or not? There is no place for compromise...and if you exaggerate with watching or with shaking what your mamma gave you, you can say oh, well!, I went all the way. I didn't make my moves halfway, I did it my style - on the inside or outside in the open.

Let's dance, little stranger!

last, but not least

Last night, I think I did something for the last time. At least, it's how I like to think about it, like the last drop of chocolate I could have before going on a diet and the final spin in the mary-go-round for the child within me. cause it felt sweet, great, scary and intense and I ended up all dizzy and full.

The problem is sometimes there are some things that you just can't have for good and you can only hop on once in a while. And there comes a time when you just hop off. I hope I had my final minitour which was quite nice, but felt heavy deep inside...linking all these places that I've been to with feelings and memories. The heaviness of all that almost tied me down, but I knew from the start that I didn't plan to come back again, so I found the strength to get up and explore all the streets and the lines with enthusiasm and hunger.
Having almost reached my stop, I tried to see more and more, but the driver braked even before I had the chance to prepare my descent. And I fell once more. No bruises, just some dust on my arms and knees. I shook it off and got away.

Last, but not least, I enjoyed my visit and the ride was least expected to make me smile and feel relief. But it did, so I granted this one last request - mine, yours, ours.