"Does it hurt anywhere?"
"No."
"Do you feel like crying?"
"No."
"Then why the long face?"
"I don't know."
"You don't?"
"I do, just that I don't want to talk about it."
"Why?"
"It's not worth mentioning."
"Even so it still makes you sad doesn't it?"
"No, not sad but it's rather a numb feeling."

This is not pain nor is sadness, it is on the other hand a horrible mix of disappointment and disgust, like the sore taste of vomit.

When you fight and fight you get tired and need a place to rest, to lay down your weapons and just listen to a calming lullaby  sleep and let your thoughts settle and your heart heal. There is no such place for me, so every time I'm tired I hold my weapons strong, I force my body up and standing tall and with a determined gaze I walk forward never looking back.

But when your blood dries and your eyes are empty when there is no more will to stand, you see someone's open arms, a place to lay and rest. Your eyes flicker ur smile comes back, you are overflown by joy.

 I let myself believe and trust; "I can't be yours because I can be no ones." so I believed and set by close. He does not let me go but he's not mine. I fell into a trap because one day I just woke up; my heart was frozen and my eyes had lost their light and there was no one there, just the cold biting into my flesh. Left behind. Lied. He took from me what I had to give and gave it together with himself to someone else.

It doesn't hurt but it is bitter, but I stand up leaving my weapons behind. To tired to fight to tired to defend I let myself fall and degraded, let the wolves bite from my skin and never argue. No strength  not even to cry for help. So what? There is no one there to hear, but I hope, someday, someone, will save me from my fears. Until then, I crawl, straight ahead, not looking back, just moving forward.

Reprezentatie de strada

(Pe bulevardul trist, frunza castanilor se asterne poteca. )

Batrana: Ca in fiecare alta joi, ma plimb pe strazile pustii ale orasului, cand toti sunt la serviciu sau la filmul de dupa-amiaza. Azi ma simt diferit, de parca lumina pala a soarelui toamna ar fi lumina unor reflectoare, de parca toata strada imi este scena, de parca castanii imi sunt martori nebuniei. Acest trup obosit cu expresii ridate nu a mai pasit de ani pe o scena. Dorinta de aplauze e ca o molima ce iti roade oasele si sufletul. (Se ridica usor pe varfuri, se inalta spre cer cu mainile deschise si imbratisez nimicul din fata ei.) Tristetea ma cuprinde ca un val fin si ma indunda cu raceala vremii. (Realizeza unde este si pasul devine calm, solitar si rece.) Am imbatranit. (Se opreste din orice miscare, singura pata de lumina este in mijlocul scenei pe batrana nemiscata)

Povestitorul: (Intra in scena din primul rand si ii da tarcoale batranei) Aceste cuvinte care pentru unii sau altii par neinsemnate, pentru un dansator inseamna moarte. (contureaza corpul batranei fara sa il atinga) Liniile corpului sunt foarte importante pentru o balerina, iar atunci cand acestea devin rigide, tremurande, gratia dispare. Timpul este atat de crud, nu credeti? In corpul acesta ostenit, o minte proaspata de copila, se pierde in monotonia fiecarei zile.  (Se intoarce in public pe bataile unui ceas.)

     (Cetatenii incep sa inunde bulevardul, intrand in scena haotic din ambele directii fiecare bombanind grabit cat de ocupat este. Batrana incepe sa mearga incet spre public fara sa fie incomodata/ sa observe haosul din jur. Cand ajunge in partea din fata a scenei toti cetatenii se opresc brusc. Aceasta incepe sa danseze rigid, dar plin de dorinta. Cetatenii se intorc spre dansatoare si susotesc)

Multimea: Oare e nebuna?

Un cetatean: (ca pentru sine) Da! Da! Este nebuna.

O doamna catre sotul ei: (il smuceste) Haide! Nu te mai holba, e nepoliticos. (sotul este tras, iar acestia ies din scena)       

(Batrana aluneca si cade, linistea se asterne peste multime si toti se intorc cu spatele si pleaca, facandu-si loc printre ei impingandu-I in laterale o copila iese in fata)

Copila: (vorbeste uitandu-se la balerina cazuta) Oamenii, vin si pleaca, lipsiti de culoare se plimba inainte si inapoi, ce trist. Vrem sa fim vazuti! si ne intrebam cum sa-l invatam pe orb ce este rosul si pe surd ce este cantecul.  (repros) Nu esti tu omul care vede cu ochii inchisi, artistule? (plange, aplauda si striga tare catre un public invizibil) Va multumim si va mai asteptam. (isi da jos palarioara si face o plecaciune.)

(Scena ramane in penumbra.)

Povestitorul: (din public cu o voce fireasca) A murit… Fericita?

(Cetatenii ies in scena aplaudand, iar luminile se aprind. Copila se ridica isi pune palaria si li se alatura. Povestitorul urca pe scena, ridica batrana balerina si impreuna fac o plecaciune si se alatura celorlalti actorii.)

Asteptare

Te astept 

Sub soare pana la apus de stele,

Sub norii zilelor ploioase,

Sub privirea lunii tandre,

In patu-mi rece.

Azi cu obrazul vested in viscolul de nea;

Azi cand frunza toamnei trece ca amintirea ta;

Azi cand sanziene in par ti-as pune de-as putea;

Azi, te astept, cu un ghiocel in mana mea.

Forgotten words

We wake up in the morning and feel like some things changed but we have no idea how little of yesterday remains. We walk out the door with a smile that the next day we forget, and sometimes, always rare, we find a note book, a piece of paper, something that we once wrote. 

"Did I write this?" we ask ourselves.

Something is moved inside us as though we found a lost piece of a puzzle and after a glimpse we want to see it all. We search and struggle and read much more. So close to our heart yet so strangely unfamiliar all those words sound to us. But we grow and mature, we are older and wiser and some words just make us laugh; other times we blush embarrassed from those naive innocent thoughts. Although, we know the past is in the past and it will remain so, some words still hurt when are brought back and we wander what made us be so twisted at that time and think back sad and disappointed of our past. But it will not change and will not be forgotten because that's just who we are. Sad. Happy. Twisted. Sincere. Ignorant. Curious. Childish. Mature. Naive. Innocent. Lazy. Determined. Cowardly. Brave. Embarrassing. Serious. Kind. Cruel. Pitiful. Wise. Hurt. Loved. 

It's all part of our memory as we grow up.

Blind

Every time I open my eyes to this world I realize how blind I am. Somewhere in my head I always see people… They are passing by me and even if I try to grab onto them they just never stop, never look around, they never open their eyes. So each night, again and again, I find myself running through this colorless crowd of people. None of them walks to the right or left they all walk back and forth on the same rode never changing directions. It’s lonely.

When will I wake up from this dream?  

Do I need to close my eyes?

Do I need to become like them so they will see me?

 Is it that impossible to open their eyes to this reality I see or is it in fact me the blind one?

Again, tonight, I sit here lost in this crowd of people that never change. Ah, I see, so that what being human is all about. Narrow minded they think they use their eyes to know and discover this world but in reality their desires and greed blind them. Always one the same rode, saying they are different, they just lost their way long ago. 

picture by Hayuko

Mislead

Open it
and turn the page!
Should I do it for you?

You can't.

Kiss your hand
and keep you close.
Will it warm you?

It won't.

Close your eyes
and I will sleep.
Will you wait untill tomorrow?

I will.

Kiss my lips
and hold my hand.
Will you wait untill forever?

I can't.

Sorry.. You are dead.
With no tomorrow

And no forever to promise.

Be beautiful.

     

Close your eyes and open them once more, this time, with the intention of seeing the little things that make our lives so beautiful. Try watching the clouds move or listen to the crickets sing at nightfall. Smell the orange your about to eat and feel its roundness in your palms. Give up your shoes for a moment just to feel the earth under your feet and if it’s dirty just run to where the sea’s waves can hit your ankles and splashing water in the sun’s face. Place your hand on a tree’s wrinkles and listens to the old one’s story. Don’t be stubborn; let the wind play in your hair I bet he loves that, even more when he tickles your ears and cheeks. Like this beauty it’s natural, it needs no make-up, it comes from the inside.  Just smile and you’ll be part of all this. A smile that can shine through someone’s eyes is just as a beautiful sunrise or a land full of blooming flowers.  Be beautiful. 

My life :3

Personal Quotes

Remember the past, never regret the present and live the future.

You can’t kill a dead man, can you?

Friends are those that tell you the truth with the risk of sacrificing your friendship.

Anyone can fall in love with someone, but loving yourself is truly special.

People make it seem that having eyes is useless because no one seems to see the melting snow around spring time, the green grass caressing your feet in summer, the leaves glittering gold in autumn or winter’s cold breath on the house windows on Christmas.

Don’t change for the person you love, because if he makes you change he only loves a fake image of you created in his imagination, he doesn’t love you but a part of his own imagination.

Change, means evolving after all, so change only when you yourself see fit. 

Through it all

Painting the sky
With the color of love.
Hugging the clouds
So close...
Bath in the rain
To wash the pain.
Cry, smile always together,
Hand in hand.

Snow

The usual lonely town was now full of busy people running around chaotic on the streets. The shops were nicely decorated and every one was smiling.

A small snow flag from a glass jewellery-case caught my eye so I stopped. Its sparkle made me stop breading and stare excited. The shop lady noticed me and asked with a smile if she could assist me in any way. I nodded fast then with a bright smile showed the snow flag pendant. She responded with a nod as she opened the glass case handing me the pendant to have a closer look.

I bought it with out a second though. It will be a gift I said with a bright smile thinking of my most precious friend. I placed it around my neck and went to met her. She noticed it and loved it and to her surprise I placed it around her neck. She asked me if I am sure that I want to lend it to her. I laughed and told her she was lending it to me. She looked confused then I just said giggling.

"It's yours!"

The smile faded when I recived my gift and that was:  Disapointment.

Friendship is a lonely thing. You put your senses to sleep, let yourself belive, give away your love and then wake up hurt and alone. 

note: I found this in the unfinished category of my blog is from one winter before Chrismas time.

Makkuro Yoru

some random mood poetry suposingly wrote by my rp persona Yoru

Yoru: *from the shadows in a low voice he
makes poetry*


My heart is in pain..
My mind is insane!
Evil laughter,
Out of my head
Into my bed.
All nightmares...

((they just came in my mind when i opened
rp club window XD ))

Memories of a life

   My heart had stopped..     
Still alive in the mud!
I can't bread..
I don't need!
I can feel the coldness
In the darkness.
Why can I still see
Red  blood all over me?

(Makkuro Yoru- "Vampires")


((i feel creative today lol i am just
writing down nonsense XD))

A love letter from Death

With cold arms
I embrace u child,
With pale lips I eat your soul.
Will make you moan in pain...
Will steal your memory away,
With empty eyes you'll cry...

good bye.

(Makkuro Yoru- "Vampires")

In love with The Grim Reaper

Lead the way,
Spin insane...
Your a Reaper
I a soul!
Rise me in the air
To fly out away..
My loved Reaper.


Kiss my lips and put me to sleep!
See you in my next life..


Cold and heartless
I am once more awake!
Blood red eyes
And skin of a death,
I will never see my grave
I am sry my lover Reaper..

(Makkuro Yoru- "Vampires")