Improvisado

I want to erase everything in me,
everything that feels,
that aches, that screams...
I want to be part of the air
and feel free like the wind.
I want to be friends with the sea,
its blues and greens,
still being calm and sometimes angry,
but not feeling anything indeed...
just the sand beneath.
If I can't have myself back,
and if things hardly ever work out
then I don't want to be part of this,
and I will not have any other option,
but choose the simplicity of being out of reach.

And Then

Wide open window, blurred by the raindrops leaving their mark on it. Faint sun light restrained by the white effortless flowing clouds. Falling crumpled brown and dark red leaves, reminding of the season. Crispy cool air, neither cold, nor warm. Sounds of soft and melodic rain, accompanied with those of the airplanes disturbing the peacefulness of the sky. And it is blue, so clear blue. The kind of blue you want to drown in and get up and so you could drown in again. Accentic smell of tangerines, mixed with the so familiar one coming from the falling rain. And then is the moment when you look up, you see the sky, the moving clouds, you feel the rain, and you decide to go on.

A tale of me and dreaming

Now it's time to mention the thing about me and dreaming or more specifically how I broke up with it. I still have hopes and expectations, but dreaming is no more an option for me. Actually, as I've been thinking today, I don't remember when I stopped being a dreamer and when I have become this absolute annoying realist who many of you would probably call a pathetic pessimist. But, no surprises here. I guess it happened between the time I made foolish choices and the time when my decisions were turned into actions and consequently into circumstances.

Slowly or suddenly I started to resent dreaming and not include it in my busy schedule. Thus, dreaming became frustrated with me and we got into a quarrel. We even broke few plates (not the greek-weddings-way). Words have been exchanged and then we have decided to take a break or time to re-evaluate our relationship. However, I am not certain whether I want to get back to dreaming. I haven't been feeling happier without it, but I've probably felt more in control of preventing the inevitable risk of disappointment, the one I hate with passion.
Frankly speaking, me and dreaming may never get back together. Even if we do, there is high probability that nothing would be the same again.

I guess it was not meant for us to stay strong and remain together...

Found and Lost

''It was the laughter, the carefree laughter, the three-dimensional Coca-Cola advertisement that you were, the try-anything-once friends, the imperviousness to all that came before you, the chain telephone calls, the in-jokes, the instant music, the sunlight you carried with you, the way he felt when you spoke to his parents, the introductory undergraduate courses, the inevitability of your success, the beach houses, the white lace underwear, the private dancing, the good-graced acceptance of part-time shift work, the apparent absence of expectations, the ever-changing disposable cults of rural, the family, the eastern, the classical, the modern, the postmodern, the impoverished, the sleekly deregulated, the feminine, the feminist, and then the way you canceled with the air of one making a salad.'' - Seven Types of Ambiguity.

How am I supposed to write a blog post after reading this bit of masterpiece? It is impossible, because this little gem is pure beauty and that's it.

***
To say the least I know why I thought of you today,
to say the least I know why I found myself rarely thinking of you,
and to say the least I do not live in the past, so I cannot keep remembering you.
But to finally say the least, I am not even slightest glad that I met you.

I have felt like being on and off for a couple of days. The good and the-not-so-good-ones. Today I could not even say which one of them it was. I painted. I did not like the final result though. It was supposed to be an abstract made of sunset colours and splash of blue. I looked at few photographs and I gave away few smiles. Not real ones. I felt like swimming, but needless to say I did not actually do it. Maybe I should have. I miss the feeling it brought. Being free. I miss even the unmissable. And maybe I even miss you. Not because you were broken, and not because I was broken, but simply, because it seems that I cannot find myself anymore without being lost a bit more...

To October

The famous quote ala 'If you don't have what to say, it's better not to say anything' does not really work for me as you have probably already noticed.
I never really have what to say or write, but at the end there is always something written or said.

***

Dear October, or should I say 'why, October, why'?

I am not planning to write a poem about you, so don't hope.
You are a bit weird. I think we all can agree on that. There is nothing you can do about it. You start with anxiety and you end with such including cold weather. Then, you have your proper share of scary or should I say inappropriate clothing along with massive gatherings of people that usually end with hangovers and uninhibitted behaviour. But, hey, no one is blaming you. This can happen (and it does happen) to every other month minus the weird attire.
To be honest, cause let's face it, I am always honest (or I am trying to), I am not a fan of yours. Me and you have nothing in common. For me, you are just preparation for coldness, indoors and tons of sweaters. I am not fan of that as well. Nevertheless, just after 43 days of your beginning, I am getting a year older. Each year is different, but I cannot lie that this year is a bit more different than the rest. We both know it and you made it clear from your first day that you are not going to let me age easy or painless. But could not you wait at least a day? You have 31 days and you start from the first? This is not a fair game.
Above all of the things I am not fan of, disappointment is in the top position. And still you do not miss opportunity to make me feel it. Did your fellow September miss telling you about it? I did not like it. I did not like then, for sure I don't like it now. September was mean from the beginning till the end, but I hoped you would be different. Misleading a girl like that is beyond unacceptable. I am ashamed of you, October.
Besides disappointment, you also posed to me questions and doubts I am not able to answer. All I could do is just wait and fight, but we know that I suck at both. 
Please, October, don't feel bad for me, I will be fine. I am sure that you will do a great job as a month and have a lot of happy people during your stay even if I am not one of them.

Yours truly,