calendar days

tick, tack, another second
23.59, february the 29th so close..
tick tack the rain still falling
another cigarette perhaps..i thought i quit well..perhaps next time
00.00 midnight
march the first
does it matter? i guess not anymore
March..happy birth-month to me
at the end of this month, i will be 28..thirty days from now
365 days before..whatever happened..

tick tack another drop on the window
this shouldnt be a miserable post
blame the tequilas
and the blue beast attacking me for i have forgotten him for so long
nights going by..nothing new, nothing strange
αν καμια φορά είναι τόσο δύσκολο είναι γιατί
κάποιες φωνές δεν σωπαίνουν όταν τους κλείνεις το στόμα
απλά βρίσκουν άλλους τρόπους να σε κλωτσάνε..

last night i dreamt that i was dreaming
drinking champagne on a cliff
and only a room with big windows was floating in the air
on the top of the cliff
and i woke up this morning and outside there was only rain...
march finally..for another year..no matter what..

hurt (like Samantha)

independence and self-sufficiency are myths..no matter how much I respect and have worked towards them, this morning I realised how awful it is to wake up, be in pain and be alone..and the archetype of the hero does not work in such cases..because the pain is strong and even the voice of a stranger offers a lot more consolation than the voice inside you..

actually i think, i cannot really write it, but yes I must, actually I do hate being alone..especially when I know that there are certain people in this world who could be by my side, but I (chose to be) am away from them..

now that I feel better, the pain went away, it's reconstruction time again...reconsideration...think back; what is really important? what matters the most and what can you do for that?can I find a way?

ps. the title of the post is trying to distort its seriosity; did anyone understand what I am referring to?

passing by

drinking red wine in a pub when saw him passing by
he stared at her for a minute or two
in an ideal world he would approach the window wanting to take a picture of her
while later on some drunk men actually did that and she thought that it would be cool to merge the memories
but he did not
he just stared at her..for a moment remembering the moments of true naked human contact, days before...months..did this ever happen? really? did we ever have coffee at 3am?
did i ever wake up at 8.07 and you were already awake starring at me?
and why are you starring again at me tonight? from a distance?

and then still staring at her, he moved on
and disappeared from the frame
the character-passer by in the movie
no,he was not supposed to become the central character
too busy, too complicated, too complex and preoccupied for such a role
she smiled and realised one thing:this place was finally home..suffocating, familiar but home

and she wanted to fly to the island next door
and feel young again..close to..
love the simplicity of a tiny phrase...'miss you'

Copy-Cut-Paste

write about examples, singularities,pluralities, what exactly we choose to love when we fall in love, the loved one per se, and feeling that only if we stop being examples we can find our uniqueness..
a tissue of quotations, the voice inside, back to deconstruction and the death of the author...going over and over, the diaries, copying their words, mad at himself..another night, cannot get to sleep..
his voice is lost, hidden behind numbers of others who try to reach them in the darkness, whisper words in their ears, he can no longer see her, somewhere lost, holding her beautiful shoes, lingering for a moment in the tube, piccadilly line last train to caledonian road, want to get off, have to get off--kings cross--damn lost you now..
just pure gold, never heard the voice..have to make it up..

a pastiche of voices and stories and sounds inside..
for example..which one to choose?
never before so cryptic, yet so clear in his mind..

let go/ you might lose yourself (otherwise)

fading out...

some photographs might turn yellow when time goes by

and some memories when narrated for a hundred times

sound a lot more trivial than the first time

and some times it takes a lot less effort than you expected

and things just are a tiny bit easier than before

and you feel better--admit it!

it's February

and according to a particular calendar

of a place that I just get to know

this is the very first month of spring

bizarre though it might sound

I think that this time I would rather 'classify' February

into my spring months

rather than the icy heart of winter

that always left a distant memory covered in snow

fading out..again and again..