Just a Woman

She's not in love, she's just a woman, with the obligation to feel and connect emotionally . . .

It's been three years and seven months. He has moved on, but she is still sitting on the old sofa, staring outside the window and feeling defeated. Women like to win, especially when it comes to men, but she felt like she was the looser of the story. He has moved on! That alone made him the winner, automatically. He has a new life, while she is still living in their memories.

There was no love, no past or future. It was an abstract reality that they had created together in her small apartment. Their meetings were neither short nor long because they did not keep track of time. They didn't care about morning or night, there was one time: together. There were no months or days, no weeks or seasons, just one time: together.

Just One Time: Together

They never met outside her apartment, they did not have dates, didn't care about the movies or restaurants, there was one place: together. The space for them was just an illusion, they didn't need any space, their space was simple: together. Even her apartment did not matter, it was all just an appearance, a dream that could take place anywhere, anywhere at all.

Just One Space: Together

There was no love, no connections. There were no obligations or arrangements, just one feeling: together. The spoken words were not carefully selected, the actions were not intentionally observed. The situations were sincere and real, with no covers. They had no labels to attach to themselves or the apartment, no tags to stick on to each other. There was one label: together, a label that proudly hang on the door that wouldn't even be knocked as a warning sign to enter.

Just One Feeling:Together

And now their time and space was crashed, the feeling lost, the label disappeared. The door that had been never knocked on, wouldn't even open now. The apartment that didn't matter got ugly realistic shape for all of a sudden. The time that was frozen started ticking loudly and the calendar kept tearing its own pages to catch up with the season. Together - an illusion that was so sweet became real suddenly, it was so real that it started to hurt. The feelings that were never there sat next to her on the sofa which still carried their memories. Their Time, Space, Feeling - Together, all gone... all gone together. And only one thing left - the pain, not for them but for her alone.

Just One Suffering: Apart

"Labeled the ugliest woman in the world"... a true inspiration

I could not help but share this incredible video. Lizzie... a true inspiration, a person that has so much courage and self-confidence to survive all the labels we put on people without even knowing them. Her speech makes one think about the people's perception of each other. We tend to judge people without even knowing them, sometimes it takes nothing more but just a look to be rejected. The word unfair does not really describe that kind of behavior, I prefer the word stupid, because it truly is. We make judgement and form opinions based on nothing. Our entire world is revolving around the appearance, starting from the marketing of the simplest products to forming opinions about people. We spend more time, money and energy on buying accessories for our appearance; whether it be clothing, jeweler or a fancy car;  then gaining inner "accessories", such as values, morals, education and knowledge, kindness. In a way we all have turned into marketing associates, we just think about the ways to represent ourselves, about the way we look, but never about who we truly are inside. In fact for many people their appearance and the appearance only is who they are, their looks is what represents them. In other words we turn into these beautiful gift boxes, wrapped up in the nicest papers with colorful patterns and unique designs, accessorized with bows, sparkles and stars; but all those gift boxes are empty. We take too much time in wrapping up ourselves, but not enough time to truly discover our inner gifts and the beauty.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c62Aqdlzvqk


Feel free to leave your comments, would like to hear some ideas.

Grey Racism

Once my sister told me that when she was a little girl she used to look at those black and white movies and think that life was also black and white in those days. Was it? Maybe, we can never know.

What I do know is only after what she said I realized that our world is truly colorful. I started watching the old movies from a different point of view. I was doing my best to catch the missing colors in each scene, trying to guess the shades that were hidden in black, white, and grey. Can you imagine if life truly was black and white? Black sun and white moon in the black sky, grey sunsets and oceans. Grey trees slowly dancing with the white wind and black flowers around it.
And... grey people, all the same, walking down the grey streets. I wonder what people would come up with then to substitute racism. Different shades of grey? Maybe, maybe not, but most likely we would come up with something. We people love to point fingers at others, we like to create differences and then label people according to them. We have an urge to belong to groups, therefore we invent those groups. It doesn't really matter what we call those groups, religions or political parties, they are still just labels that we proudly wear to know that we are part of something. Why? Fear of being alone, unique, different? Fear of being pointed at by another group?
How easily we pick roles and then quickly adapt to them, We do things because we should, we are supposed to, because that's what the role is automatically telling you to do. We take actions that are expected, not from who we are but from the role we picked. The saddest part of it, however, is the fact that we ourselves believe in those roles, we wear the costumes believing that those are us, we proudly represent the fiction as our own life.
Colors... One of the biggest gifts of our world. We admire it when it is out there in nature, away from us, but when it comes to our own skin we label it, we divide it into groups and start pointing at each other. You think blue flowers dislike the red ones? Sounds silly, doesn't it. But look at what we are doing people, apparently flowers are smarter then us.
Colors... once my sister thought me to really appreciate them, because we could have a black and white life like the old movies.

Ghosts

We're only ghosts my love
There isn't much to life

We come and go
Like many did
And at the end
That's all we need

We're only ghosts, my dear.
There's nothing left in here.

Reunion

And here they are, years later
Sharing only the awkward silence
Neither friends, nor lovers
Hiding, behind the darkness.

I wish my soul was a dancer

I wish my soul was a dancer
Things would be so easy then
All fears, thoughts and the emotions
I would simply dance away.

I wish my soul was a dancer
So it could always stand up strong,
Seem fragile but inside a warrior
Firm, flexible, and never wrong.

I could dance away my worries
Feel the glory of free soul,
I would express my self in moves
Like nobody has seen before.

I would be able to jump so high,
That my fingers would reach the sky.
I would waltz along with starts,
Touch the sun with painless scars.

If my poor soul was a dancer
Tango would be the tune of my heart.
I would jive away my sadness,
For my dancer soul, nothing would be hard.

I wish my soul was a dancer
So it could lead a life its own.
My own path would've been so much better
If only my soul was a dancer.

My self-portrait of You

I drew a portrait of myself

And there were you...

I was looking at the reflection of my face

And seeing you, staring back at me.

I saw your eyes throughout my own

And felt the touch of your soft hand

Upon my painted cheek.

An oily paint of tear run down

And you were there to catch it,

My brush was redening my lips

But it was you who put a smile on it.

I painted my dark hair

Falling down up to my shoulders

And I could feel your hand

Softly playing through them,

My brush put on the black waves

But it was you 

That moved them away from my face

I couldn't help but notice

Your eyes staring back at me

Through my own gaze

Warming and protecting me.

I drew a self-portrait

And had to capture You in it,

Because that's how I see myself

With marks left by you all over it.