Random post #2.

At last, crows are shedding tears for my melancholic soul…For my wilted youth…For the love seeds, which were cruelly deformed by rain floods…and for the enchanting times, that swiftly passed by…When the bells of cherishing used to ring around my head, inducing a happy din…
At once instantly, clouds fanfared the departure of my hopes. The sky used to be my secret portal. Therefore, all my dreams were buried there. And every time, agony crept into my shape and I titled my head down, then victoriously raised it up, the star map boldly showed me your face; my ex-lucky charm. But now, all I gaze into is a vicious blankness… At once and for all, rawness has flattered my dreams and all the possibilities of the never-happened-reunion…Reunion of a sun and a moon. Now, the eclipse is forever standstill. Nonetheless, the remaining speck of light would still make the moon bask in affection. It would still heal all of his bleakly somber stains. They would both make terrific history, that the galaxy could ever know… I would miss myself, with you crawling to my orbital cardiac system. But, I miss myself without your world colliding with mine…without your planet striking mine…without the flames of your cigarettes burning my heart… Let’s talk about passion! The swarm of birds flying on top of my head every morning on my way home has taught me that freedom is a choice. Birds choose to migrate and probably build new nests with other different birds. However, Albatross never changes its partner. It would travel to far corners of the globe. But, it would always come back to its first and last partner. Albatross has taught me that passion can overpass frontiers… It can really last.

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What if…?

Sometimes, your body is drawn up into an acerbic helix of memories of unwanted places…Sometimes, even laws of attraction fail to keep you on earth…And sometimes, you can’t escape nightmares even if you’re wide awake… As Sore as it sounds, it can get even sorer, when the truth perch on the surface…And abruptly, water’s mellowness becomes a piercing din…Suddenly, blue turn into light grey…Suddenly, your inside feels empty wet, as if all the oceans are shed into your body…As if your soul is drenched in cold water…
Jumbled up facts, counterfeit bonds and cobbled hearts…Convenient for human nature…For what human beings are capable of and for what their world is made of. And as unfortunate as it sounds, it can get even sadder, when right becomes peculiar and wrong becomes favourable familiar…When your dreams are your only chivalric saver…And the past is your only august companion…When everyone is trekking to picturesque places, but you still can’t find your favourite destination…
Sometimes, your mind is plaid with unsought souvenirs. No matter how far you flee, they follow you around like disturbing silhouettes…Sometimes, water becomes safer than land…And sometimes, solitude feels more soothing than friendship…As odd as it sounds, it can get odder when vacancy seems to get never occupied…When the lights become acrid… And loving words turn into utter rawness…
Non-respected austere rules, unjust justice and mocked righteousness…Convenient for a cruel world with blood-sucking creatures…For people who don’t fear God…For sinful men with wicked brains…
But what if one day, everything changes? What if one day, people are all peaceful and good?…

A historical close-up:Part I

The luxurious cloaks floating gently on the red ornamented carpet in two opposites rows, the traditional turbans leaning down in the aisle like withered roses and the confetti was raining heavier than on a wet winter night …The scene was mute, not even a hushed din was audible, nor the vociferous excitement of the pampered odalisques in the harem. The only loud thing that existed in the throne room was the gaudy crown resting loftily on the monarch’s head. The whole new empire’s destiny was buried under that crown. Only those who are trust worthy could be given the chance to look upon the political strategies of the new king. The coronation ceremony was posh as a duke from the plutocracy and mild as a catholic priest. The silence was an insignia of a new rising age; an implicit declaration of the firmness of the new upcoming system. And that what was fearing the neighbour countries…
The new Sultan was willing to sit on the sacred throne, he was willing to rule his empire and to take down the traitors in his circle… Defence minister was a mile away from the guillotine. His beheaded figure was hunting him in his dreams, because he knew that the end of the rope will lead to him. All the wicked schemes he planned, were becoming poison propagating in his body and killing him bit by bit…The clock was only ticking for those who couldn’t keep the atrocity to their selves…For those who dined on feast tables bought with threats and undeserved gold. And the Sultan was ready to return that gold to its true proprietors… He was willing to make a new history: a history of successive achievements and democratic justice…
The speck of light penetrating between the solid bars into the raw cell, was giving a genuine hope to a captured woman; a mid-twenty slim figure drenched in despair.
She had a royal face. In point of fact, she had all the qualifications to become the next Sultana and that’s exactly what made her end up among four phlegmatic walls. And unlike everyone else, she didn’t have a story to tell but a heart with unquenched flames and an urge to believe in something that could enhance her strength and patience until she’s freed…
“-You got lucky this time…You’re free. The sultan is asking for you!”. The magic words sounded so satisfying that it almost sounded like a dream to her…
There are many ways to kill a man, but the most efficient way is to shoot him straight in the heart…

Take me back to the start…

The rain drops felt heavy on my head,
It hallowed out my mind like a stone,
In a way that caused your pastel memories to sled
down my spine and then left to be thrown
in a fountain of lost wishes and faded images.
and of misty stories from different past tenses…
It took me a while to find myself again
as finding the lost Atlantis under Spain.
You stroke me like an express train.
And there was no time to pray for salvation.
No time to flee from the fast destructive cadence.
But It wasn’t the sharpness that maimed our reminiscence,
nor the bloody years of bitterish unfaithfulness.
It was the abruption of a sentimental apocalypse.
Great and dreadful as the collision of two sinking ships.
And I had to be the one enduring all the hardships.
I had to be the one with half-heroic damaged heart,
With eyes filled with tears in a world falling apart.
Oh take me back to the start…

A year hence.

A year hence, I’ll distinguish between the Polaris and the Asterism.
The swarm of wounds and woes will make me a constellation guru.
Sitting on the roof, succumbing to the blue obscurity above me as fatalism.
And I’d perpetually eject spaced words of sad poetry about the ongoing overview.
Until the flow of words endure stagnation, until then,
I’ll be bursting the silence with overdrawing stoic expressions.
I’d spade up my memory until I meet your face, until then,
I’d play back, in my head, all the paradoxical situations
to understand why does your heart have to be infinitesimally large.
I was electrified and I was even keen to capture one more electric charge.
One more charge of another twisted lie and another loud cry…
A year hence, I’ll have the dexterity to analyse Shakespeare’s sonnets.
The counterfeit words you spoke, would make my soul smoke cigarettes.
of ancient literature and romanticism…
of life quotations and humanism…
The idiosyncratic thing about miracles, is that they seldom occur.
And when they do occur, there’s always an unidentified blur
afterwards, just like your strange loving and caring states
I was under the debt of believing thee, carrying hefty weights,
of unkept promises and dry silly excuses…
of uncertain pledges and heart bruises…

Mortality vs Immortality.

What is the purpose of one’s existence? Or, let me put it this way: What is the most significant thing your life is centered around? What would you die for? What would make the blood flow in your heart pump so fast? What would make you sleepless for unnumbered nights and days like a worried mother waiting for her son to come back from the army service? What is the thing you strive to have? Have you ever considered looking back at what you have achieved and what you’re longing to reach? In point of fact, the question is mere. But, the answer requires some quality time of meditation. What am I living for? What are YOU living for? You’d probably change your priorities chart after reading this…
Some people live for other people. The title of their life book is love. Their life philosophy doesn’t overpass the boundaries of how it is important to have a life partner and of how they could possibly perish if they are separated from their beloved ones. The thing which lamentably doesn’t match the standards of human values. And, I’m not going to try to find a posh way to say that it is nonsensical. It is silly. Very silly. I’m not saying that love is a sin, or that is stupid. It is a non-sectioned part of humanity. It’s just that some people hang on ropes that aren’t that tight, wrapping their fingers around mortal things that will expire and that will leave them agonized. We should upgrade our mentalities to a level where our inept ways of seeing life are altered into better and smart perceptions. Life is more than a decayed love story. It is more about being lethal. We shouldn’t let the temptations get the best of us. We should tend to be like aseptic wounds; not easy to get infected and not easy to be deteriorated…
Some people live according to the materialism motto. And what a sad fact it is! Following a stream of pure pecuniary concepts can be hazardous. The mortal things we chase, is what makes us even more mortal by lowering our life expectations and sending high frequencies waves of stress and strain to our daily lives. Peace exists among the merest elements of life. It doesn’t have to be related to expensive possessions or buckets of gold. As a matter of fact, It is inward.
Immortality remains in the abstract; people die and possessions expire but thoughts never die.  Thoughts are like trademarks. They are the real continuity of life and the portal to an after-life. After decease, people forget other people. Only the ones with a documented flushed mind eternize…The reflexion of true immortality is hidden behind our intellectual reflexions. It is art that maintains the wedges of the continuance of humanity… It is science that uplifts civilizations… It is the cogitative faculties that last and long throughout history. And so, it is the leak of erudite minds that replenish the void in a world that is more in need of knowledge than of money. What we choose to live for, is what makes us either mortal either immortal…Either like poppies put in a shady location, left to be withered…. Either like bright poppies exposed to sun, ready to thrive and grow. Our source of light is the enlightenment of the mind. So, choose carefully your priorities and keep in mind that everything can faint like old memories except what you’re capable to deliver as aware reasonable thoughts.

Social schizophrenia.

schizophrenia aka a mental illness that generates delusional perceptions in the mind of the concerned individual…The mental disease cause in his brain a war where casualties are the mere facts and the reality that was once well perceived. After the attack, illusion and delusion become unified to create something from nothing inside the individual processor; imaginable friends become real, the sudden change on the level of personality becomes distinguishable and the conversations with one self also becomes very common… And the reason why I am writing about schizophrenia is within the next few lines. In my entire life, I met a lot of double faced people, traitors and liars who shot you with a gun that’s yours. And that’s very classic and very normal, because society is divided into two main categories; the rest is just about details. Now, those two categories are: people who lie and people who don’t. To make the picture crystal clear, this is what I am meaning: People who lie are most likely to be in positions of power. Unfortunately, that power is abused and not well used for the benefit of the country, because corruption exists, robbery exists and bad politics also exist. Wealthy people who are in charge of many occupations in the government (and I insist on the word wealthy) lie to themselves by trying to turn everything that it’s on their dirty hands to their own good even when it’s not right. Why? …to climb desperately the wall of glory. Those bad people who call themselves ministers, mayors and others could’ve eaten money if it was eatable. Luckily, it isn’t. I’m not saying that all of the system is run by them, but the majority of them are taking over the control. So, they don’t only lie to the population who buried millions of hopes in the ground of that wicked government, and chose that one government as the perfect leader, but they also lie to themselves. And I think that it’s called social schizophrenia; because they make promises they won’t keep them, they give long tedious speeches about many protocols and unachievable projects. And when the time arrives to return everything to its stream, they act like they never planned something, like they never said something.  People call it hypocrisy; I prefer to call it social schizophrenia.

Thoughts about dreams.

Played back scenes from the past, an unlimited long carpet rolling under your running feet, a hill where you can’t rid of a non-existing beast and the weakness of your legs that don’t allow you to flee until you open your eyes and realize it was just a weird bad dream…Some things cannot be explained, or perhaps I can’t explain them. And, the blur, the odd concept and the repetition are what add to our delusional visions a taste of bizarreness…
When the darkness anchor in an ocean of a billion shining stars, the guardian of our dreams and the stars becomes the moon… It is at that time that our unconsciousness speaks of the untold stories. It is at that time that our secrets are revealed to that magical guardian and wiped off once the day arrives and the sun rays erase a wonderful painting of that dark ocean.
Unconsciousness is the secret behind our memories, the tale of the unsaid thoughts and the moments; we wish we could tell ourselves. When we dive into our non colorful dreams, we succumb to our fears; the loss of our most precious wishes and the promises we fear to break, we succumb to our regrets; people who pushed us to draw a red line underneath trust or people we wish we had more pictures to remember them by. We only see what we want to see or what we fear to see. There is no in between…And the most unexpected part is the felt emotions when sleeping. Do we really feel when we are dreaming? Is the feeling of joy, of love or of sadness real? I think it is, because without emotions dreams are nothing but a tedious senseless movie you would never watch…

Confusion.

Days and months are outnumbered…I stopped counting when my heart became narrow in a wideness of affection. As the nights were flying away, the wind made of their wings motion was cooling down the ardor. And the devotion to an eternal pledge was becoming heavier. The bridge linking two different worlds was deteriorating and the traffic was slowing down, even at rush hours…Excitement and nostalgia have faded as an old pair of jeans washed too many times. In brief, my emotions were evaporating like boiling water. And the many questions were starting a revolution in my head: Why don’t feelings last too long, like happy ending fairytales? But do they really vanish? Or do they just hide in the back of our minds like childhood memories? And if they do, can they grow again?
I was running out of passion…all the promises I made, were not making sense to me anymore, I was no longer certain if I can still keep them like valuable jewelry left from my third grandmother. I was not even sure about the present. It was a dream turning into black and white…It was a fresh fruit getting rotten. And the future was a complete blur: A hundred pieces puzzle.
Just like when sea waves destroy castles made of sand; time has slowly erased the lines of a new page that should’ve never been written. Time, have gradually killed the new born love in my heart like veronal poisoning. Suddenly, the text didn’t fit anymore with the story and the warmth of love was becoming hell. I realized that, from the beginning: the choices were actually obligations and the feelings were indeed sweet hallucinations to forget what pushed me in the first place to be unrealistic. And just like when you force yourself into taking a medicine to make the pain go away, I have forced myself into tasting an allergic substance which I knew beforehand it would make me sick. But then, why not risk? I thought to myself that a little of adventure will do no harm to anybody. And I said that life is too short to read the precautions and to not break the rules. Because, at some level, we all feel rebellious to the reality that imprisons us in deoxygenated rooms…But, I was wrong.
I was sure, now I’m confused… But, I have learnt that affection is a passenger who can’t stay…

My condolences…

My sincerest condolences to you… to the person I used to hold in high esteem. You’ve lost one of the most precious gifts; the ability to love. Today is the day when we’re all in black and all the eyes behind the dark sunglasses are looking down, when even the crows are shedding tears for your loss.  Just like in movies… I’ll put some lilies on your tomb and pray that you rest in peace among the soil’s bosom. It’s not as warm as your bed used to be, but you’ll get used to it…
This is your miracle: You’re dead and alive…
You’re alive; you can still inhale the air that poisoned your soul in that town of yours… It is so overcast that the ominous clouds perched on your heart…But you’re dead. You can’t feel anymore, you can’t even feel your own heartbeats… And what a terrible incident my dear! Few people were lucky enough to savor affection and still appreciate it even when it’s sour. And today, one of them is gone and forgotten. It’s so easy to hate, to hold a grudge towards someone, to despise even the oxygen he/she breaths. However, it’s so hard to love. It’s so arduous to still find reasons to love someone. Our world has to be pacific, has to be safe and sound for the next generations… Because wars not only destroy building facilities and factories, wars kill people. And that’s a commit of murder in the sake of justice. But what if justice thinks that war is the ultimate solution? well then our world is in serious danger. And that’s why the capacity to love and to forgive is as important as the greenhouse effect. They both impact the stability of our earth… They both can change so many things on a global scale.
And so, my condolences to every human being who lost the most powerful elixir that can cure almost everything; humanity, to every person who lost her/himself and can no longer be called a human. Because love is what keeps us alive, is what provide our bodies with energy and heat and love is what makes us humans.