I was happy in 2013...

You know Henry David Thoreau once said : « I am a happy camper so I guess I’m doing something right. Happiness is like a butterfly; the more you chase it, the more it will elude you, but if you turn your attention to other things, it will come and sit softly on your shoulder »

Well I am that happy camper now, I’ve been that happy camper for a week now, or wait, for a year now, for the whole 2013 without mentioning the ups and downs which were along the road but it’s okey, I chose to keep track of only the times when I was a butterfly , hypothetically speaking I mean.

Having sisters in your life is one of the best gifts one can be blessed with for it fills one’s life with sorrow and joy, with pain and relief, with peace and love. My sisters and I are bonded by blood and flesh and soul, we are the embodiment of what a marvelous relationship can be like. The older we grow, the more we realize how much we love each other despite all the little misunderstandings we used to have. I don’t even recall how it was back then for the beauty of it all have burried in the depth the ugliness of it all. And just like Nietzsche had said, there are no beautiful surfaces without a terrible depth. The way we are now springed from how we were.

« How we were », I sound like a 60 years old recalling how she was, while I am still 17 years old but the girl I used to be is nowhere to be found. As I ponder about myself, about my surrounding, my friends,my sisters I realize that human race is indeed so much more of an intricacy and so much less of a clarity. Everytime I say that all is cristal clear, that we don’’t change, that we’re always the same, I end up realizing that I’m wrong. A change is as good as a rest and people constantly change for it doesn’t cost them that much. My sisters and I used to have misuderstandings sometimes that faded away now, my best friend guy and I used to be unseparable but we are not that anymore. Yes we are not. I can’t deny that my relationship with that best friend is one of the downs of 2013 that I can’t seem to forget just yet. I mean how can I forget it when he’s always here. But the thing is I feel deeply and immensly disappointed in him for I’ve never thought we’d reach this point of disagreement. Well he had said that I’m overrated and that when I’m angry I just say nonsense, which he finds really neagtive in me and he thinks that it will ruin most of my relationships. Really man ? It’s until now that you realize that ? After two years of being friends ? Well guess what maybe he thinks he knows me but he doesn’t that’s why I dropped it and I let you go. I mean not completly, you’re still here but I let you go as a close friend because there are many people out there who actually do put up with the fact that I am that angry person and who are willing to stand by me even at my worse. So yeah I guess this is one resolution of 2014 : Letting you go and letting them in because in order for new things to be here, I should let the water flow under the bridge and carry you with along with it. (Easier said than done but I’ working on it so it’s possible)

2013 was/is still year full of feeling of love and admiration, a year of wild heart pounding in every single meaning of the word. You know my heart was pounding all along 2013 (as much as I can remember). I feel joy when I think about it and I revel in it. In the dar kit enlightended my path and sorrow it helped dance, in despair it raised me above it all and in fear in sheltered me of it all. You don’t get to understand the meaning of something unless you live it so you can’t really understand how I felt unless you were in my shoes (which is scientifically speaking impossible since I only have hold of my DNA and it can’t be shared, it can be clonned but it’s far fetched) So I’m just trying to put into words the unspeakable hoping you’d get close to the image I’m trying to portray. I learnt during it all that risk is the salt of everything in life and that without it, nothing is actually worth it. With those feeling I’m a shining star in the dark night. I will always be thankful for what I was blessed to have. When I felt that way , I was awakened once again ,as fire from unextinguished ashes, my dying dreams and fantasies were raised from their graves. So my other resoltuion would be preserving this treasure that I have and protecting it from outsider storms, nourrishing my feelings and working on my selfishness issues because it really is not pleasant. I will always remain astouned at the power that selfishness has over me. I become thid ugly creature, believe me, it’s utter ugliness and the thing is it ruins it all and jeopardizes everything, the cloying of the foundness can slowly be no longer an equation in Maths (I’m sorry to involve science in everything that I say) but I genuinely fear what my selfishness could result in and I don’t wanna ever start to imagine because then I’ll have this mischievous frown in my face that I don’t like.. Anyway, the cloying of how selfish I am has to ebb but it’s not like I control it or do it on purpose, it comes like that and runs in my veins that way though I’ll try to unlock more often the non selfish part of and let it flow on the surface becasause at the end I’m not that bad am I ?

Last quick resolutions, I should stop rehashing old arguments whenever I am in a middle of a converstaion with someone because it drains me out of energy actually. I should do whatever it takes to make it the the 21 of september, that days is a beautiful day and I can’t say no more about it for it’s a beautiful reminder to remain in the sacracy of privacy.

Expect nothing, win a lot, have fun, be wildly free, be madly in love, and yeah, GET MY BACCALAUREATE AND REMAIN HAPPY.

...As a man thinks, so is he...

As a man thinks, so is he… This is a quite known aphorism of James Allen. This author is known for his beliefs saying that men are the complete sum of all their thoughts and therefore their thinking springs and blossoms to result in a person’s behavior as well as a person’s demeanor, be it real or sham.

We live in a world where good and evil are walking all around , finding a way to coexist within the same space and concidering that fact, people can be who they prentend they are or they can be what lays in the shadow of that which they prentend they are. Philosophy sustains that we can never know people for real since their demeanor could be forged to appeal the viewer even though deep down, it is the ugliest thing possible. Hence what I’m saying is that someone who appears to be eerie can actually be normal, someone who appears in his highest level of happiness can deep down be carrying a stab of sorrow, someone who appears to be real can be nothing more than an illusion, an image, someone who appears to be beautiful and perfect can actually be narcicistic, someone who appears to be as calm and steady as the ocean waves in a sunny day can be a time bomb. Isn’t it odd ? It’s astonishingly unbelieveable how wrong you can be about someone. Is is that easy to put on a mask and wander around with it ? Are people’s feelings this unmeaningful ? There aren’t enough words to describe the depth of my bewilderment. How can one’s seeds be this dirty ? How can one’s thoughts be disgraceful to the point of beguiling the closest people around them ? Figuring out this remains beyond my capabalities.

After realizing being betrayed by the closest ones, we end up fearing the unknown, builiding tremendous walls of caution to hide behind them, cutting off any kind of human contact. There is nothing worse than betrayals, deceptions, disappointments. Such pain in the heart results in being cold as a rock, isolated, enclosed. We become the pure embodiment of loneliness. And no apology can bring the peaces back together because once something is broken, you have to accept that IT IS BROKEN.

As much as I endeavour denying the fact that I was once the victim of what I’ve been writing above, something brings me back to reality. When you see me, and I look at myself in the mirror, you see normality though the deeper you dip, the more you realize that there is a certain anguish underneath the surface. I portray myself in transparency, and I know myself as intricacy. I dwell in bitter sweet silence and I revel in it. And just like I was saying, there is my demeanor and my true me, if that makes any sense.

Like James allen said, I am the complete sum of all my thoughts, I make and shape my own decisions I grow the seeds of my behavior but still, I try my best not to betray, nor deceive nor disappoint…

PS : It’s been said that I’m overrated, so anything said in this article might be not true or wrong

…I didn’t know that I’m overrated, but now that I know, I thought that you all should know…

What are words...

Words have the power to turn a life upside down, it is a double edged weapon that can be used both to sooth someone or to light them on fire. But if we stop for a moment trying to figure out what words really are, we’ll be actually lost in a never ending maze with twisted unexpted roots. Some of us are actually slaves of haunting words they hear from others and if they do not free themselves from the chains of those whispers, they shall never ever shine. Like never. Others on the other hand worship the words they hear from others as long as they only hear what they wanna hear. So basically words are somewhat the architects of one’s being. Words are hazardous if not controlled, obnoxious if not sculptured.

They tend to say that a wise man must turn the tongue seven times in the mouth before speaking considering the fact that words once released from our lips, can never be taken back so one must think deeply before letting out any of his words. The power that words have is unbelievable. So the wiser you are, the more beautiful your words become and nothing is more beautiful than sweet honest words.

You noticed I said honest while sweet words aren’t always honest. So you see I believe words are nothing if they are not honest. What are words if they’re not honest ? What are words if they can be altered to be more appealing even though not that true ? What are words if they are not kept ? What are words when we are living in a planet where everything is mapped out and every single person is not always who you think he/she is ? What are words unsubstuncial.

Words are just excuces and lies and disappointments and sorrow and grief and anger and joy. Borderline joy to be more explicite. I don’t think that we need words that much since they not that relevant. I don’t need words to make someone feel how much I hate or love or despise him/her. It can be cristal clear if they only read my facial outlines. Words are wind. Let me tell you why I believe that words are not that important. In some cases, words stay stuck in our mouths, between our lips and tongue ,we remain speechless, the words won’t come out no matter how much we try to put what we feel into words. 

Come and rescue me..

 The truth is right now I feel so fucking angry and that makes me so fucking sad I can't even describe it. 

Sometimes  I feel I'm a doomed with some curse preventing me from being happy for whenever I'm happy, I get no longer happy. My head is jampacked with thoughts and questions, spinning around, and it's borderline impossible for me to put it in order. It's over me, it's beyond my strength which is why at this right second, I feel more weak than ever. I feel that everything around me is jeoparadized, everything as substuncial it may seem, it can in a heartbeat fall apart, like a blizzard of snow does in a heavily snowy day. 

As mch as I try everytime to convince myself that I am not the wrong thing here, something hits me hard and reminds that I am the wrong thing in everyone's life, even my own mom's life. The pain I am feeling is unbearable, it is puncturing my mind, making it hurt so much that I can't stop it. I want morphling, I want to forget, I don't want to feel anything, I want to feel mere emptyness. I can't believe I'm actually saying that because I never wanted to feel emptyness. Now I'm bipolar... Fucking awsome. 

I feel lonely. It sounds crazy concidering the people in my life, but with this pain I feel lonely. Last night the pain started, I had no idea a beautiful day would end that way. It was nearly midnight and I was lonely. I tried to cool down, to look at the night sky, try to reach someone across the distance, to catch some positive vibrations, to know that I am not alone but the truth is I was alone, and no one could help. 

The words she said, the obsceneties I heard were heartbreaking. And why is this wolrd making it more complicated for me because everytime I want to forget something, it gets immediatly and irrevocably branded into my mind.. Lucky me!!

I can't be the same replica of someone I am not, someone I have never been like, someone I will never be like. Under the pressure I will suffocate. I feel like a pariah sometimes shunned by my mom. I know I can be rude sometimes, I mean I don't mean it, it's just that I lose it when I'm angry, I utterly lose it. I become dispicable. But it's not like I do it on purpose, it's just my way of responding when I feel opressed, and under its weight I break. I’m too sensitive. I’m like a tremendous ball of sensitivity and when I start crying, nothing can stop me. If I’m not mistaken, I maybe cried a river last night, this morning and no one can do anything about it. The more I think about it, the wider the river gets. The cloying of my sadness increases everytime I try not to think about it. Now I am blocked, I can’t focus on anything, I am litteraly useless. I shouldn’t be here.

What if I leave ? Maybe everyone will be happy, I do nothing but result in pain. I’m a pain in the ass. My life as TV show now would be so much more insipid than engrossing.

I feel down, in fact I am down. I’m in a dark path now, a goulish one. I see nothing but dark, there isn’t asingle light glaring. There is nothing calling out for me. I mean who would call for me ? I am wrong and I believe wrong isn’t beautiful therefore no one wants something not beautiful to ruin his/her life.

I’m wistful about the days where life wasn’t this monotonous, when life was more of an exhilirating song, when my sisters were still here. Those times are a wips of smoke now, I fail everytime I try to reach them.

Beautiful surface...

I know it’s been quiet a long time since I haven’t even thought about blogging or maybe it’s just side effects of lack of inspiration or maybe too much inspiration stuck in between my tongue and lips. I gotta say my head and heart both didn’t get rest in the past few weeks for thoughts were back in forth, making a whirlpool I was always giddy by. My world was litteraly upside down. I never thought that a storm can strike too harshly and so unexpectedly and yet destroy everything. Well, I hope not everything. I mean it’s weird that I’m still clinging to this shred hope I shouldn’t even be thinking about because I’ve always believed that once something is broken, it can’t be brought back together. Or at least not easily.

A beautiful surface I may seem, I’ve said that many times, sounds quiet cocky but I’m okay with that, though this beauty have been altered aiming to make it more appealing. The outlines of the face, the curves, the expressions and everything that comes with it haven’t been totally real, I mean not totally genuine,which is odd because not being genuine about my feeling has never been my thing for I prefer to always be cristal clear, transparent. However, builing up a facade against everyone’s judgment when a stab of sorrow hits you is utterly necerssary. Well not always but just in case you don’t wanna talk about it, which was my case.

The facade did me good for it spared me a whole lot of questions but I still was moody a bit. Like bipolar. One minute I’m okey and one minute I get angry for the silliest of things. Seeing me, people would think I’m some kind of pshycho with some serious scar tissue, or under the effect of morphling. I wish I was under morphling to feel nothing but mere emptiness.  

Back to the facade because of which I remained a beautiful surface. Normally, I dwell in silence when it comes to people that I actually care about but this time was so different that I couldn’t go on mute. I’ve burried that sorrow I montioned in the depth of my inner self, just like mines are subterrenean and needs digging. The pain of the heart is the most terrible thing, I mean ugly thing and it has the potentiel to return and appear as fissures all over a body if not hidden with that facade, which I did. So you see this beautiful me isn’t that beautiful after all for all the terribleness inside makes the beautiful of the surface. This leads me to where I want to arrive. « Nietzsche » about beauty. He said that something beautiful implies that something is not. So accrding to him, beautiful things are actually terrible ones. Does my case ring a bell ? It does to me, anyway.  I molded my own beautiful surface that consists on burrying the terribleness gnawing me deep down, unreashable unless I let it out. Well, I won’t . Maybe I did but i won’t, again. It seems useless.

Though supressing the feelings is never the right thing to do. Slamming the door at everyone’s interferance and being rude won’t make thing better. Well at least it didn’t make me feel better. Maybe what is hard isn’t the storm that hit me but what comes after it. Usually after a storm, there are no flowers springing. Maybe that’s something I’d rather not live, maybe I’ve been in the goulish path of neglect, indefferance. The light of that shred hope sometimes glints but fades away before I can revel in it. It’s not like I want all this to happen, but it just happens and I couldn’t/ can’t stop it.

The storm hasn’t destroyed everything just yet. I’m slightly wistful about all the beautiful memories that flood back, rushing in my mind the second I start to meditate. « Meditate », do I really do that ? Well, I tried not to, I actually for a second wanted my memory hijacked. Just like what happened to Peeta in the Hunger Games. His state wasn’t pleasant at all but his memory was altered. I wanted that for a nanosecond. And then, I realized running from problems isn’t in me. I adore those memories, not a single inch of my being wants any of it away . I had plenty of time to meditate with the ocean keeping me company and actually speaking to me. How ? The ocean reflects my thoughts because all the answers are inside me. The ocean reflects them as a mirroir reflecting the replica of a face. Within those answers and thoughts or whatever that it, I actually find what always made me  happy for who I am, as I am with all my flaws and imperfections.

But what does it mean ? How did that storm even happen ? Maybe that happiness was too good to be true and the storm was my wake up call to leave. Or maybe I’m the one who is too protective and selfish. Those are questions I don’t have answers for.

I sound too complicated reading what I wrote, because despite the fact that I’ve said too much, I still didn’t say anything. A storm hits, sarrow stabs, then what ? When something hurts, we let it go, don’t we ? When a storm hits, we run away for a refuge. The thing is the the storm used to be the refuge. 

Selfish, angry me..

Does is happen to all of us to want to say something but not have the words to let it out ? Do you find yourself stuck even driven not to say anything even though you have so much to say.

I do. You know, I have this blizzard of words and thoughts running through my head but I can’t seem to find an order to it. 

As much as I try to be reasonable I find myself in a path leading to a dead end where everything is foggy and unclear. No not that unclear, maybe it’s just in my head, I know it is just in my head and that I should work on controlling my anger and selfisshness or I’ll end up drawning in its depths, loosing everything that I care about.

In case you’re wondering, yes I get angry and selfish to the point I can’t really put into words. I was told it’s human to feel that way and I agree but is it human to be over angry and over selfish. As far as I am concerned, it isn’t. It’s a flaw. I  don’t want it, it is actually gnawing my being, gnawing myself in a way that is utterly not beautiful. You remember I’ve mentioned in my other posts that there are things I consider as « private property ». Well, I can  get angry in a heart beat when it comes to private property. What does that make me ? Don’t even think of jealous because I’m totally and utterly not. I mean who am I to get jealous ? I don’t even have the right to feel that way and that’s what makes me angry even more. The cloying of the foundness I carry for these  private property might be the reason why I get that angry, I lose it. Anger jeopardize it all, the foundness, the memories. As much as I try to avoid admitting it but I remain wounded unintentionally, and turn selfish instantly. I get all those thoughts in my head about what to do but I know that I usually fuck up when I’m nervous, I talk too much, say what I shouldn’t,  and think what I don’t want to. You’ll find then my mind a goulish, black path filled with dark unwanted thoughts, the same replica of the darkness of the nightsky.

Though the most dreadful idea I get and I hate is the jeopardy of this anger swallowing up a glimpse of our foundness. I find myself desprate. Yes as desprate as an abondened man in the middle of a desert clinging up to the hope of finding water . I cling up to the hope of feeling right, not angry, not selfish. This is too sentimental for me, that’s not me.

And you know, the thing is me being mad is not even intended, it just happens. Usually I carry hate and despise to that which makes me angry but the situation here is way more mystifying.

Which lead me to possible ways of putting and end to this twilight I’m in lacking to dawn, and I can’t do any of them just so you know.  My private property as I like to call it shall be freed. I’m over protective. Thus maybe it’s me that is wrong, couldn’t it ? Maybe I am that gleaming darkness. Maybe I should dismiss for the sunlight to glear.  I shall release that private property as a bird from my protective cage and slam the door against its return and a to a lifeless face I shall turn, a silhouette.  Though I’m aware I don’t have the power to do that, there is no possible way I can do that though it’s the only way by which I could hear your heartbeats again. Anger is suffocating and I can’t be reason for your asfixiating because I end up now believing I am the wrong thing here.  

I had a dream, yes a beautiful one, I love dreams, it was a precarious venture at best. I didn’t want to wake up. I was happy there, no anger , nothing. But at then end, I did wake up, I was brought back to sore reality and when I realized that my feet really turned to water. 

I talked too much here maybe I even fucked up, maybe my hormones are rushing my words out. Angry is selfish is the worst me, I dwell in silence not saying anything about it which could be bad. But you know, believe me , never take decisions when you’re in your worst moods, in other words, never take decisions when a strom is striking your mind.

Politic fury...

Even though politics have never been my thing, and watching news about country and stuff is not me but this particular subject got under my skin in a an utter ugly way, it is gnawing my mind slowly making it a slow thinking death because as much as I try to think about and find other explanations for the King’s pardon decision I find my self facing up a wall, reashing a deadlock shading light on the reality and sore truth about our Country.

I woke up a morning and I found everyone talking about that Spanish pedophile whom I doubt being human because what he did is far from being the act of a human or at least that he probably is a scychopath who needs to be cured.  I watched a Tv show in which Moroccan police tried to re-portray how Daniel used to attract his victims,innocent children. Despite the fact of Daniel being a sychopath, it appears that he’s fairly smart for his raping was never an act of chance, but Daniel used to stalk his victims, try to gain their trust by buying them sweets and candy and at the end, he drives them home where he always holds for them a small birthday party ending it with a present. By the time he gives them that present, the token kid being innocent wouldn’t think for a second that this man is bad. Candy and sweets and present are always testimony to how kind one can be in a child’s thinking. They are not aware that that fucking pig is waiting for the time to unleash his vicious fantasies and nourrish his sexual desire. You wouldn’t imagine how he does that? Let me enlighten you, after finishing the birthday cake, he drives to the bathroom to clean them up, he takes advantage of that and start touching parts of their body and that isn’t it just yet, he pretends that he’s gonna take them to the bedroom in order to rest but they don’t know that he’s actually driving in a dark way where their human rights will be violated.  On that TV show they show the closing of the bedroom, seing that image and thinking about  what calamities might be done behind those walls makes wanna puke. I don’t stand thinking about that pedophile for he completely disgusts me. I mean seriously, you’re fucking old, borderline my grandfather’s age living with your wife! Why the fuck do you seek feeding your desire by the use of innocent human beings?

Before hearing about the pardon decision, I was holding on to the hopes that our country might be one day civilized, where everyone has his rights, that the law wouldn’t be broken for any reason, not even a political one. Though, right after facing the truth, I realized that I was having the thoughts a deseperate  one clings to. I’m not the only clinging to those thoughts, all Moroccans were. Therefore, this decision came as a trigger to an inferno by people’s anger. Uprisings now are all over some cities claiming the revocation of that decision concidering the fact that releasing that criminal is not only disrespectful to the families victims but also threatening other children who’s rights are on stake. 

Plus this decision wasn’t merely a coinsidance because everything happens for a reason. It is mostly aiming to please Spain’s king because as it was said,  freeing the bastard was his request.  In a heart beat, it was approved, the King didn’t think about public opinion nor the families victims, he didn’t think that this is a second rape for Humans rights.

This is disgusting and more disappointing than any time. I mean seriously, is this the only way Morocco found to reash a better relationship with his Spanish neighbor? If so, it is so pathetic.

I feel such insane fury towards the government who does his best to shut the voices of protestors against this unjustice.  Yes, in this so called “democratic” country, people do not have the right to protest against that which they don’t like. I’m starting to question whether I know what democracy is. Seeing all that’s happening, I don’t think that the definition I have in my mind fits here.  Protestors are harshly beaten, deeply wounded, and severly injured while claiming for taking back the freeing decision. Is this democracy? Fucking bullshit!

The high government members are seeing us a stupid creatures, conspiring their shenanigans in their fucking buraus to make us believe that we are in control of the country while we aren’t, making us believe that we have the right to voice out our requests and speak for what we want, making us believe that the country is developing without violation of human rights. Well guess what, I’m sorry to tell you that we have been chasing a dream us unsubstancial as a wisp of smoke.

This bastard has no right to work freely and live a happy live after his release, we have to manage to make his life a living hell if not in a cellar. His photos has to be all over the country so that wherever he steps, he’d feel like a pariah, unwanted, despicable.

Thinking about my little brother, my neighbors, my little cousins and every potential victim hightens my fury and magnifies the feeling like crying until my tears dry off, crying for those honor trampled of the victimis families, their violated dignity, their raped dreams and their robbed future because of that fucking scychopath.

We are unconsciously slaves of our government, our own country. We shall free ourselves from it and keep claiming for our rights. We have to make the change. Easier said than done, but we have to try and not give up.

Turning point...

An experience that has changed my view towards life. Well, to begin with, I believe that within our lives we experience a lot of things that could either make us better or drag us down. It's like we're some sort of chemestry book with thousands ans thousands of experiences.

We are all born a blank surface, lacking of memories that shapes who we are but as time passed by, the blank was no more blank for ink has drew on it numerous experiences. And then, we are no more innocent faces, no more innocent souls. We live among a society that is dirty and we have to fight to remain clean and pure. But how can a fountain be pure if mankind itself isn't?

As far as I am concerned, I can say that my life is a book of mystery and its key is gaining my trust. I have lived in every possible way some things I have never ever imagined I would live even though I am still 17 years old, even though me being aware that life carries for me a whole lot of experiences. And yet, the ones I have lived are like tattoed in my head and some of them marked me be it with a wound or smile. Yes, I have been wounded, deeply and profondly but time helped me heal myself and learn from that which caused my suffering. It's obvious given that we, mankind, learn by both suffering and bliss, thus our experiences don't have to be all beautiful. Our path in life doesn't have to be heaven like, it definitly has in it goulish dark detours. Well, in one of these detours I've been wounded so deeply that it tooks quiet a long time to recover. But let's not go into the drama details because that's not my thing and this detour isn't the one that has changed my life.

Well, the thing that has turned my life completly to another path is meeting someone. I love myseteries and I consider secrecy a bliss and I embrace it so I'm just gonna keep refering to him/her by" someone". Anyway that someone I had met months ago really changed my life. I wasn't the kind of person who would do good in a public speech. I also wasn't the kind of person who would stand up for every single thought held in mind. But this someone was becoming my idol day after day. It was happening but I wasn't aware that it was.
Concidering that fact that this person came out of the blue without notice, I was kind of loving it. I hadn't believed in such thing as 'idol' but life is so hard that I realized that I need someone to look up to in every single move that I do and every decision that I make.
As said in frensh, "les eaux ont coulé sous le pond" and I don't catch sight of old reserved me, I can barely recognize myself. And this person isn't only my turning point byt also a listening ear for whenevr I feel like talking I know I can go let it all out without fearing being exposed because I am aware that it's like I'm talking to a well.
I am genuinely grateful for having this person in my life and living with this person with me is itself an experience that shall never be forgotten!

I might break any moment...

Concidering all the ups and downs we've been having, actually more downs than ups, I am starting to believe that you and I are doomed to always keep fighting to the point that it is starting to poison our relationship and drag it down to drawning. Will it vanish with time and meditation? Are the thoughts that I am having just in my head? Are you and I okey? Do you really believe that? As much as I want to believe that, it doesn't really seem to be this way. They say that just summer closes few doors not entirely but just partially. Though I was seeing you and I from a complete other angle you know, I never really thought that we'd reash this point of disagreeing. I'm not really sure I can put up with the bitterness of our problems as much as I tried to convince myself to it, I find myself just pretending while it has never been my thing to pretend something and live in a fake way. 

But when I stop from a moment to recall how we got into this, I realize that I am not entirely to blame for you have started everything. I can be a pain in the ass when I'm mad, I can even be unbelievably mean like a total badass bitch and start sending few words like bullets to your head. Yeah, I just pull that trigger and let every single cruel unbearable word come out. But, it's not like I have a choice, I don't do that unless I have reashed the point where my tolerance is nihilistic. Did it hurt? I'm not really that sorry because you've done the same and even worse to me. I really don't need to rehash old arguments and start remembering all the shit that has happened because that it unpleasant. What have I done after all the arguments, I decided on my own to take aback, and stay remote for a while, thinking that it is all for the best. I had no idea then that it would make things even worse. But it was good for me because I'd rather not talk to you than to spend every single day fighting over something I know will never be solved. 

I feel like a hurricane, a volcano ready to blow up and let all my lava out, burning every single thing surrounding me. 
I hate you because you are disappointing me. I hate you because I believed in you when they didn't. I hate you because you are prooving wrong every single thing I thought of you. I hate you because you are tossing to dust every single memory we lived together. Memories? Is that me talking? I really sound pathetic here . Hope, expectation, and all what comes with it are words that sound incerdibly pathetic here. I mean what was I expecting? Expectation is the root of heartache and yet I expected more much than this. Talking like this doesn't really mean that I'm heartbroken or something, not at all, I am genuinely disgusted by the thought about how you became as a person. Seeing you I could barely recognize you, you have to be ashamed of yourself. 

You'll say I'm not understanding even after explaining, but what can I do when your excuses and so called "arguments" are too iffy and more lame than the thing you did and I quit following my heart when it comes to you. 

I am positive that if we continue this way, this relationship is gonna change my attitude with people so fucking much. This facade I am standing with will utterly change.

What makes me who I am...

I stopped pondering about myself, I mean about how I am as a person, be it how good or how bad I don’t quiet know. Did you know that human being is the master of thought and the molder of character and the maker and shaper of destiny. Meaning our thoughts are leading to our destiny. Is is that simple ? I mean if the fountain of thoughts we are holding is pure doesn’t it automatically equal that all what we do will be pure ? For instance holding thoughts of fear will slowly kill us without even knowing that it is killing us because fear is poison that gnaws our body. Thoughts of fear could kill men as speedly as a bullet. And as far as I am concerned « death » is not really that pure.

I hold a thousand thoughts in the little skull of mine and I can take anyone’s ear off talking about them . However, there are some thoughts that I don’t have the right to share, it’s not that I don’t have the right to share but I wouldn’t want to share them, they are mine. What I’m doing here implicitly is tossing those thoughts into my subconscious . Yes. It’s like I’m surpressing them but I’m not. Despite the fact that  I’m in some way a diaphanous book, not as complicated as an anagram but I feel like that the real and true self hides in my subconscious. And lately I’ve been feeling a lot like jumping into it and not leaving. There, I could be the complete sum of my real will, there I feel that I broke through the integuments I already talked about.  In contrast to the real world,where I feel that I am under the tyranny of a set of things I’d better not break , the subconscious is where everything is possible. There’s no pressure of others and no importunity that would change the path of what I really want.

Yes, I hate that feeling when I have to choose between two choices, then it’s whether I please myself or surrender and please what they want. In this situation I feel like I’m the edge of a cliff, about to fall down due to all the pressure. And I’m not really the kind who surrender to pressure or anything, trust me I always lean towards pleasing myself, it’s kind of a dignity thing. I don’t recall doing what somebody else wants unless it is also what I want. And I happen to belive and the aphorism saying that the soul attracts that which it secretly harbors, that which it loves and also that which it fears. And concidering that my sould portrays who I am and who I am is the sum of my thoughts and wills then I happen to attract all the mentioned in the aphorism especially what I love which is utterly obvious. 

I said sometimes I have to choose between following my will or other’s wills. And there’s one exception for that : My dad. Daddy is the person I love the most on earth, he’s the most important person on earth for I know that he’s the person that spoils me most and put up with all my crazy demands.  He remains astonished in what I say to convince him to let me do what I want. Yeah, I can be very conceiving when I have to. He is very supportive and understanding to the point that I really can’t put into words. I just love him and I can do anything to please him even if that means giving up on what my subconscious wants. I’m slighly wistful about old stuff he used to do to me when I was a little girl. That’s nostalgic me talking.  Yes my dad is amazing I love him more than anything.

I may seen kind of schizophrenic at the end of this talking because I was insisting on the fact that I’ll do anything for what I want but I’m not that odd, that’s me and my Dad , may God protect him for me and my family.

Fine mingling of letting go and holding on.

It’s been a while, well a quiet long one,more than a year since I got into a train and decided not to leave. I knew then that my trip could eventually turn into dust, into memories, and that all the feelings that I’m carrying with me along the way might get hurt by a way or another. Actually being aware of that risk is a good thing as I was told, because it is always ringing the bell telling me that the rope I’m  holding as strong as it my seem, is actually thinner than I could imagine and thus the possibility of it being cut is not that iffy no matter how far fetched it may seem to myself.

The moment I steped into the train and decided to be part of the mandane experience I knew that I would be second choice. This fact couldn’t by any means be changed unless the choices were made differently. It was cristal clear that what I was doing is  pure lunatic doing but my brain wasn’t really in control. And then my actions became more frivolous than I could ever imagine. I totally pictured myself when I was 10, but I never had this image of myself; which I don’t deny is the most beautiful thing one can ever live.  

Now I’m peeping into myself and I realize no matter how transparent I may seem, a mystery a kind of anagram I shall remain. While everone thinks to know so well, sweet, honest, loving, gentle, hardworking, serious, crazy , I’m actually not really who they think I am for there’s a part of myself that would always remain buried in the depth of my inner self.

Just because I’m not telling anyone about this thing doesn’t automatically mean that it’s not beautiful because if it’s what you’re thinking than you’re utterly wrong.  We would all agree that beauty can be portrayed in all that which makes us happy at its sight, everything that makes our heart beat faster, everything that makes us feel more alive, brief everything that add sense into our lives. Well, I have had this thing, this beautiful thing I am keeping for myself to completely enjoy and taste that makes me feel more special and peculiar than anyone . But wait a second, maybe that’s it. The secret of its unending sea of beauty is its secrecy, privacy.  Sometimes secrecy is a bliss. In my case, I am embracing the bitterness of secrecy. This thing is above imagination, above fantasy. I’m afraid it all already got deep under my skin that I wouldn’t be able to extract it even if I wanted to. Wait a second, I already tried that as well. Yes I’ve already cut that rope thinking it would be for the best, thinking that molding a new beginning wouldn’t be that hard. Guess I’m not that always right. Though not being able to cut it was more of a gift than a failure. We all know the old saying: “if you love something let it go if it comes back then it’s yours if it doesn’t then it ever were. “ It actually came back when I set that rope free to the wind but it actually remained waiting patiently as a rock.  Anything weaker, without faith would have just let go. I myself thought that I should hunt down that thing in my life, shoot it, and find somewhere to bury it in. Though it was stronger than my so called “will” that it got back again, making me feel stronger and more worthy than ever.   Having this one thing in my life actually seems like heaven and I would rather have and live within this beauty rather than to live with all the portraits in the world.

Folks, as much as I try to put this into words, you will never actully understand it until you live it, but unfortunately given that I won’t share more details about it than you can never have it, yeah that’s selfish me talking me, preserving “private property”.  You may think that I’m some kind of crazy under XnaX effect but I assure you I’m not bullshitting you because this beauty is actually alive. Sometimes I wish I could break through the integuments.

Lost..

Do you ever get this feeling where you're about to sofficate, asphyxiated by your surrounding. The people you encounter, the thoughts you hold, the things you have to do. Is this world a set of rules we shouldn't cross to survive? Is the lasting of our species contingent upon respecting what others want or following our own gut feeling.

I am going through that feeling thses days. I have really a traffic jam of thoughts in my head all of which I don't think I can handle. My parents and I have clashing ideas about a particular subeject. They started discussing it with me, ending the conversation by : "do what you want", as implicitly saying "do what we want". It's a whole lot of pressure they are dragging me into. At the end, I feel that if I do what I really want I'd look a miserable apathetic selfish girl who don't give a shit about what her parents think while it's the complete opposite. In contrast to many teenagers of my age who tend to pleasing themselves by hook or by by crook, I lean towards pleasing all sides even if the solution is way far fetched and unaccepted by me. That sounds a bit frivolous in some way since accepting what I don't really want was never my thing but when it comes to my parents my kind little heart remains above all dignity. Though when I happen to be aware that my parents are completly wrong, I do not give up easily. I then find myself thinking about any futility that could be conceivable by my parents. I'm even sometimes driven to rehash old arguments where I proved myself right. Yes I know no excuse encomposes how lame and clumsy it is of me to rehash old stuff  but they've left me with no other alternatives.

Though, I've been thinking all day about what I should do in this case. I'm no selfish apatheticgirl for I care too much about others but I really wanna be in that class. Is it really that wrong? I can't forecast what will happen then but I'm positive that I'll be more knowledgeable in English studies and communication. Although my parents are kind of leery of the importance of this class concidering the fact that my sisters didn't continue until this level. They both stopped at Adv4. Actually I won't deny that my sisters and I are alike concerning our studies but we do not agree much on this point. My passion for English was secretly growing as time passed by, exceeding that which of my sisters. Maybe my urge has more powerful assets. 

What lays behind beauty...

Freidrich Nietzsche said once :

« There are no beautiful surfaces  without without a terrible depth. »

As much as this quote seem to be vague, I feel like writing about it. Nietzsche’s philosophy is intreaging and personnaly whenever I have the chance to read his quotes, I just start questionning everything. And here I am, a beautiful surface I may seem, energetic, powerful, creative. How would you judge such personnality traits. Perfect ? We’ll come back to that later in my essay.

We are actually composed of every road chosen, every step taken, every person met, every thought held, every dream fathomed. All of which make the surfaces we have. Thus I mean we mold our own beautiful surfaces and burry in the depth our darkness, our sufferance.

For instance, behind the innocent smile of a little girl lays back a dark story of how miserable her life is and how unfair it has been to her. Eveyrhting beautiful implies that something is not.  Nature is beautiful though what is not ? What do we not spot ? The most dangerous animal in the world ?The responsible of millions of death every year ? That animal disguised as a human ? I bet that’s not beautiful. 

Let’s see the quote from another angle. Love is beautiful. I want to know what in this life compels us to searsh for love. This quest seems to be mandatory for a happy life. Even though living always leads to dying, doesn’t it ? Those feeling, those emotions all together roots to risking calamity, heart-break, pain, sorrow etc. We STILL want it. It catches us despite the sleepless nights, the disappointments, the heartache, the expectations which doesn’t seem all beautiful. Now, what I’m saying here, love is an iceberg, beautiful on top, still it may be rooted towards awfulness. It’s beautiful and yet terrible.

Now who am I ? How do I look like ? Beautiful. Thank you, I know. I have many qualities to be proud of (not to show off) .

I have failed in this life, got what I deserved out of everything I touched. I have suffered so much and yet loved in ways epic love stories are composed. I love loud rock music and yet slow depressing ones. I’m an idealist. I make the wrong decisions rooting to magnificent experiences.

Being over protective, I dwell in silence that is like a warm breeze, a raging ocean pushing me to its depths. The traffic jam of words in my head, I can hold it. I’m aware the world already has enough to deal with. 

I am not sorry for what I am, what I am the complete sum of all my overwhelming thoughts yet I awake everyday fresh as daisy.

Though, I am selfish. That’s not beautiful. It results in taking always wrong decisions rooting to somewhere. Selfish is not beautiful. There’s no apology in the world that encompasses all the reasons that I am wrong as well as not beautiful.

However in the end, beautiful or not beautiful, I choose to be.

How will people remember me, and nature and love ? Beautiful ? Black spot ? That’s the question…

Dreams

Since the dawn of mankind, we’ve been searshing for the answer of questions : What are dreams ? Why do we dream ? I believe that the reason behind the visions we get isn’t really cristal clear, so the answer of this simple question is not as easy as it seems. I never knew what dreams were for, I never understood my dreams. Sometimes I remember all of it, with all the minor  details, and sometimes I remember nothing but flashes, which can be very irritating, especially invovling someone or something I’m really interested in knowing.

However, I came after all to a conclsion which may be true or false. Whenever I think too much about something before I sleep, I usually dream about that particular thing. It’ odd isn’t it ?

Dreams have the power to somehow draw our true fantasies as well. They are anything we can fathom, anything our hearts secretly desire. There are no limits to dreams. They are those floating images in our minds, images that are for some people unreahsable and meaningless, while for others, dreams are like a silver lining in a limitless world where everything is possible . We’ve been always told to follow our dreams in order to have a successful life. You dream about something ?  « Take it »  

Not all dreams can be explained, I mean they are interpreted in several ways. Some say that we dream about what happened all day, some believe that dreams are like an advise from God and therefore we should follow it. And as I said at the begining, dreams can also be the last thing we think about before turning in.  

In philosophy,  we studies a bit about dreams with the famous  “Sigmund Freud”.  He has a complete different explanation to dreams. In his books and sayings, his theoary is built on the fact that dreams are the fruits of our repressed feelings and desires which can’t be by any means fullfilled nor accepted because of the pressures we are restricted to.  Those  curbed feelings hide in our  “unconscious” escaping from our “conscious” to later reappear as loose images in our dreams.

To conclude, dreams remain a mystery, an idiosyncrasy, a delimma in our inner selves but there is one thing I have no doubt on:  dreams whether clear or foggy gives us an idea on the coming events, be it good or bad.  

Being with others...

Not sure about what inspired me to write about this but I did.
Many people believe that working alone is always the best policy, others on the other hand don't agree much .
It is cristal clear that the belives we hold are contingent upon our background which builds our current state.
For example, there are people whom I should call "individualists", who would rather spend their lives in a cozy place, reading books, making projects and mainly thinking deeply about how their lives would end. I assume that they are not really outdoor persons; they are always in recess from others, building tremendous walls of caution as if all the rest are a dreadful virus. If this isolation isn't a sickness, they manage somehow to make their lives into a work of arts and success. However if the isolation take unexpected roots, leading to real "autism", I wouldn't call that "success".

In both cases, I'm not really an individualist. I've always prefered working with a large number of crative persons, with whom I mainly feel comfortable, feel free to be myself. Plus, the results are better when I hear a mixture of feedbacks and ideas from different people.

Sometimes, I can be in lack of self-confidence. I mean I tend to have right methods and solutions for particular situations but always seem to hide them and keep them for myself in fear of humiliation. Thus, the fact of being surrounded by others is a means to showing what's best in me and to making me get over my weaknesses. I'm not saying it's going to be easy but their importunity will leave me no alternative but to surrender and therefore give all that I have.

Moreover, while aiming for success, one shouldn't hesitate, he/she should always take risks in life. Being part of a group of people will definitly encourage me to encounter that which I fear, that which I secretly harbor, to later reap its fruits.

Idealist? Realist? Denier? I don't know what best describes how I am. But I know that I have my own way of dealing with tough situations. I'm sensitive but not too sensitive, I'm romantic, but not too romantic, I'm crazy but not lunatic. I believe in myself and I have the ability to write about things, granted that I have my inspiration or as others call it "muse".
I love challenges, I can TAKE YOUR EAR OFF, still I just  need company. 

Friends

Within our lives, we make many aquaintances, be it at school, in a club or in a party. However, not all of those happen to become true and enduring friendships. Not all people are angels and deserve our trust, but still, not all of them are demons and traitors.

One of my favorite quotes is: "Love is blind but friendship closes its eyes". Those words are very meaningful and I believe in the fact the quote shows. In others words, when falling in love with someone, we don't usually notice the flaws of our beloved due the power of love we carry for them, we wouldn't by any means criticize them for what they are. Just bear this in mind, they are like soulmates in someways, therefore they see perfectness in each other. Friends on the other hand, even if they realize the bad qualities of each other, they tend to accept it and turn a blind eye on it. Acting so empowers the friendship, acting otherwise would aweaken it . 

The first cemant of a true frienship is trust. We can't really be friend with someone whom we don't trust, that's a whole other phase which takes much time. In another quote, it's said that a true friend stabbs you in the front. Do you know what a true friend is? He's certainly not the kind of person who will stabb you in the back and betray you or lie to you. On the contrary, a true friend when something goes wrong would come to your face and throw all kind of crap so that you could work it out together. He wouldn't go gossip about you, wouldn't let anyone talk about you. In a word, he'll stand up for you! 

I consider having a friend as a necessity in our lives, because in times of despair, we usually need a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on. A true friend would never leave you, he will stand up for you and protect you. Having that friend is like having a brother or sister not by blood but by bond it grows deeper and deeper as time passes by.
Also, if a friendship is strong, ironlike it wouldn't break easily it would then last and endure for a life time. The persons involved in it wouldn't drift apart in case someone travels to some other city, considering the fact that if they are real friends, they would hang on to each other and so each on of them will be doing his best to keep in touch with the other.

Moreover, I believe that a friend brings out the best in you and your best qualities. He'll always be there to encourage you and cheer you up whenever you need it .

At last we can face disappointments while seeking for true friendship but once it's found, I think it's priceless. Preserve it ! Love your best friend .