''Let's find happiness together.''

Not only the one that's ephemeral and sheer fleeting, but that lasts, that's real, and doesn't hurt. Maybe it exists, maybe it is reachable and true.
When suddenly everything makes sense and at the same time you know it won't unless...
I still have so much left to learn. You need to teach me how to fight for this happiness without being under the forces of self-enhanced emotional inner torment. Will they always have to painfully switch turns, or you know the secret of how to stop the inevitable circle? Would you show me how to pause thinking, close my eyes and breathe, because I came to the moment when I broke my own rules, one by one. Let's leave it to the destiny, I looked into your eyes and heard you say. And I wanted to believe, I wanted to try, and feel. I do.

The room is silent, and I know it should not really be, the washing machine had to sing with me, but I could not bring myself to it. Laundry day has to wait. Encore.
This might be a good opening sentence if you pretend you have never read it and that I have never written it. Pretend, they say it's effortless. And all I can pretend is that pretending may some day come naturally to me too. Or is it called convincing, perhaps lying? It has no meaning and poses no importance. At the end everything is as it used to be and as you left it. Change is illusive. And so is everything.
Every day is a battle for a sun as Placebo were so kind to remind us, but they missed out to let us in to the secret how to lead it.

When you don't know

Thoughts fleeting like the sharp wind you struggle with every cold morning on your way to work.
Having a craving taste of this feeling you had long forgotten and then silently raging, because it turned from sweet to bitter-sweet. Yet bitter is better than no taste at all, so you put a brave face on and make another attempt to preserve it and maybe change it. Do you believe you can?
Abruptly waking up to the sounds of the rain angrily falling against your window, but you don't take it personal. It's rain after-all. Then letting yourself to be subtly drifted to that familiar dream again, with the clear realisation that it's not going to be the same.
Who needs sleep anyway, and grasping this unsatisfying thought in mind you widely open the window and embrace the rain drops, which now looked rather softened as you release them and watch them vanish into the warm room. Somehow doing this did not seem enough, it left the hunting feeling of  incompletion and you remember the side effects of it. But it's the only thing you can do and either accept it or evoke the right to do it differently. Do you believe you can?

White noise

Because you are gone and I am still here.
You made the silence beautiful and I will always be entirely grateful for that and for those words poured by a sane version of me. I know you enjoyed the crazy one, but later I came to the realisation that two are needed for this side to surface. You brought it along with the smile. Okay, it wasn't just one, but a dozen. I tried to conceal, I tried to lie myself in forgetting, but at the end how could I?
Time did not grant me with the chance to say everything I wanted to, nor to express all the emotions running through me. Everyday passing over the same places we did and selectively avoiding others. Because you are gone and I am still here.
I will not start on the countless things I miss, all I said on that note was true. But it was only a quarter of what I have felt. And there are so many I may not remember tomorrow or the following week, a month. I can't even recall if we shared a goodbye. Did we? I think I smiled when I wanted to cry, but you know that I am your power ranger and they don't cry,
... neither say goodbyes.

Cliffhangers

We all have heard that our 20s can be more or less confusing. 

What we did not expect to find out is that being in our twenties does not guarantee that we will have all our goals set and instantly accomplished. What we did not want to believe is that being an adult does not make us immune to heartbreaks and disappointments even if we are supposed to ''know better''.
We continue to make silly mistakes.
We can still fall for the narcissist and pathological liars type, because we have a lot yet to learn about us and other people.
I remember when I was sixteen thinking that drama and uncertainties will miraculously end once I graduate all those schools and universities. And I was wrong. Uncertainties - they never really disappear, I just need to learn a way not to be greatly challenged by them. Being older was anticipated to come with the reward of saying goodbye to naivety, but sadly or not, it does not. We still trust, and we still get hurt. The only thing that adds on to our age experience is that we get better in detecting lies and we build all those walls that are supposed to protect us. But they don't really, because walls get demolished, and hearts get broken.
We thought that adolescence will take away with it all the overlapping emotions and mixed feelings, but not quite. They persist to be there through adulthood as well.
At university lecture halls, neuroscientists comforted us that once we reach mid 20s we will have fully developed limbic system and pre-frontal cortex so we would be much better in making decisions and controlling our emotions. But is it that simple?

Adolescence was certainly messy, but it was full of dreams, some unrealistic, others already accomplished. Adulthood is another crazy roller-coaster of fighting the disappointment when all those dreams are not fulfilled yet and accepting that maybe few of them will never be, because it is not our path, or because it was not meant to be.
Acceptance is something we rarely needed to understand in our earlier years, but it is a lesson we need to learn more and more as we get older. We all want to have it all figured out and become those  fully structured individuals we were aspired to be, but it does not come with age or milestones, diplomas or jobs. It comes with small and great steps, with patience (that damn word I hate to hear and I haven't learnt how to use yet). It comes with realising what is best for us and what is not. And last but not the least it comes with listening to ourselves and paying attention to all those signals and flags that our hearts prefer to ignore so we could keep believing what we have is real, but sometimes we need to listen to these alarms. Emotions can blindfold us, and following our hearts is natural, but we need to know that our amazing brain is there for a reason, and maybe sometimes it has the right answer, even if we don't want to see it, because it may hurt.

August

I went to sleep at 5 a.m yesterday,
and the ceiling started leaking.
I wanted to bury my head
between your neck and shoulder.
And it was raining all day,
sun with no rainbow.
And I wish you were here,
I wish you were mine...

Invincible

...For a moment brief, but still that great.

I hoped, but I have not actually believed that those days would come. The moment when I would have my lost self back again. It did and I wish it stayed for longer. The light was there, winning for a first time. There was still some darkness, but there were no labyrinths. No overlapping intentions, nor billion structured goals. Lies did not hurt either. I was free, as free as probably I will ever be. I did not have the need to compensate, overachieve, want or be with. Everything and everyone I knew were irrelavant. Nothing had a long-term place in my life then. I did not need any. Those gone days were short, but pure, rare and felt more than real. They were what I would call this overused, often misunderstood word. They were happy. And maybe I was too.
I can't write more. This time the words are doing more harm than good, because contrary to all assumptions - happiness does not need to be described, explained or made beautiful. Leave it smply be, because some of us know that the genuine, the one we don't need to sugarcoat or force, is untraceable and ephemeral. Hold on it while you can, and once gone - be ready to welcome it again.

Diving Lessons

The Sea.
At first you glance at it and realise that you have only three options- swim, remain on the shore or dive into. Your mind is clustered, and you do not reach a definite conclusion, thus you wait. The sea stares back at you and sends a line of waves in your direction as a reminder to make a decision. But you can't, because how could you? You don't know even if it is possible to form a rational thought at such moment. So you just stay motionless and close your eyes instead. It does not make any difference, but you hope for the answer miracuously to come up into your mind and brighten the darkness. They have said breathing facilitates decision-making, but they say a lot of things. No, you don't want to inhale and exhale, you want to know. Only that. Remain, swim or dive. What would it be?

You start to feel the nails digging into the cold skin of your palm and simultaneously take a step backwards. The answer was there from the very beginning.Your hear your inner voice, run and don't look back, and it made you laugh. When have you been running? When have you not looked back? Running will only demolish the satisfaction of gaining the answer. And you would resent that, would you? You need this decading feeling of gratification activated in your nucleus accumbens and frontal contex of the brain and you just cannot let it go. A step forward. Think again.

You are running out of time. What would it be? Staying on that shore would not change much. You would be still the same person with the slightest distinction that it will be gone. Fear not, you mutter to yourself. Swimming is easy, you know how to do it. You have done it before. You can do it again. Like you used to. The clouds partially hided the sun and you take it as a sign. The reflection of the sunlight in the water surface is now gone. The sea looks darker and deeper. It is testing you, waiting to make a move. You can always choose the other alternative, but always does not equal now, does it? You have never dived into the sea. What if you lose? What is there to lose. You cannot prolong this for any longer. Wasting time is not in your skills set.

The sea is beaitiful. Immense. It is where you want to be, only if you could step forward. You have the answer and now you know what you want. What more do you need? Certainty? Life offers no guarantee, you are not born with a text book. You either do it or you don't. Yes, there probably would be another chance, but
do you want another chance?

You lean forward, welcome the soft sensation of the water, and you dive.
Into the sea.

You Sans Promises

...
I spotted Dostoevsky's Brothers Karamazov lying on the floor covered by the messy pile of clothes we left behind. You loved to hear me saying 'Really?' and begged me to repeat it endlessly, but each time I gave you my infamous look of menace in return, which still caused your lips to curl up in a smirk. I traced the tattooes marking your skin and whispered to myself ''ah yes, you are an artist afterall...''. It made you laugh and meet your lips with my jawline, and then again. You asked if I would want to see you some other time and I responded with kisses. You did not seem to mind my methods of distraction and I did not manage to say a word. I did not tell you that I liked how you played the songs you wrote, and you did not need my approval. I laughed when you said the greatest band was The Smiths, but you did not have the time to find out why. We exchanged numbers and instantly regretted it. And as you were dozily tying the laces of your black converses you could not conceal your surprise that Catch 22 was one of my favourite books. And I could not, but not smile at the jittery electricity coming through my body when you said you read Salinger and Bukowski. I wondered what was your reason for waking up every morning, just because this is always what I ask random blue-eyed guitarists. You replied with your music and for a second I felt slightly envious.
''Will I see you again?'' you brought the question once more with this dreamy expression of yours, but we both knew what the answer would be.
...Because some things were meant to remain ephemeral, but we were too high on oxytocin to accept that back then.

Snapshots

Give me a cause, give me a reason and I am yours. But you can't, can you? Because there are no more left.

When the sun rises and when the sun sets, when you betted that I would be fine. When all I wanted was the peculiar sense of happiness and all I want now is a cause. Another thing to fight for, because otherwise what's the point in living anyway?

The begining of summer has always been sudden to me. Everytime is different, but the feeling you get is unmistaken and very same.
Life becomes beautiful.
I know that you would be laughing at me now and I would smile. Just like we used to do before, when all we had was each other and our broken souls. I don't know about yours anymore, but mine still is. But do you know what summer beginings remind me of most? My naive dreams soaked by all those ideals and morals that I never stop being assembled with. I miss the person I was back then when I was seventeen. She was reckless and wise, but unbelievably stupid. She was the person I would probably never ever be again. Don't tell me you don't miss her. Open skies and endless fields, scent of dry grass and upcoming storm. Free and careless. Full of hopes and less emptiness. You could see the sadness in her eyes back then too, but it was concealed with the foolishness of childhood, the same one that is now underneath all those built defense walls and layers.
I need to feel the saltiness of the sea water on my skin again. I need to recapture all those long gone sunsets that I missed whilst I was busy wasting time.
Need to.
Want to.
Feel to.

Fast Forward

What is there left to be written? And is there anything that have not been thought of? The brain is wired in such a complexity that people still cannnot comprehend its immense capability. That's why we are not able to- we are not using its full potential. Everything is a mixture. Not merely the human thought process, but every occurrence in this universe.

Exhaustion. Timeless. The dilemmas. All those 'if's and 'why's, all those unanswered questions coming back to you, because they have never disappeared. Because you do not want to erase them. What would you be there left with? Do we really 'own' our lives? Do we have any possession over them? Do they come in the form of gifts or tests? If so, how do you know when you pass them and when you don't? Draw a line. Now look at it. A snapshot. Fast forward.

You wonder and you wonder, and does it even matter? What is the overall significance of anything that happens? Is there a mental white board with a top three of the most prominant things or people in our lives? My life. How do you know what is right and what is wrong? Choose the odd word out. I can't. I don't.

Trial and error. Because we are good at it? And it hurts to be this good. Does normal equals mediocre? Do you want to be normal? How do you even know what does it feel? Describe the experience. Maybe Aristotle was wiser than all of us. He knew. He understood. More than you will ever do. Maybe, maybe. I don't want maybes. Skip. Repeat. Please? Here comes the pride, catching up with the doubts.
They are having a brunch date. In myself.
Past and present waltzing. The future is the audience. Saluting. Laughing.

''Hey...I wanted to say...'' she muttered as she saw him again. At the same place they met once, years ago - at the same place they simultaneously avoided to repeat the past.
''It's okay. You don't really need to.'' he said softly, barely inaudible, looking straight into her deep blue eyes.
''But...I actually need to. It's-''
''-I meant it. What is there else to say?'' he interrupted her firmly.
She glanced at him cautiously as she was going to scare him away and instantly shutter the invisble crystal ball they became part of. She looked up at him, but there was not any indication that he understood. Not like before, not like he used to.
''You are going to be late. The library should be closing down soon. I guess it's getting late.'' she heard herself speaking those words, but she has no recollection of meaning them. Why did she say all this? She did not want him gone, of course not. She let her frantic thoughts chase one another in her mind.
He looked at her questionably and shook his head lightly.
She frowned and bit her lips anxiously. What else could she do or say, he was disappointed, or worse - she met his bitter expectations once again. But this time it was different. They were. At the same place, little before five o'clock, little before they would finally part ways or delude themselves until their next encounter.
''Er, you are right, there might not be much left, but...what if there is? Plenty of? And now meeting you again...Forget it, I should go.'' she said and sighed staring at the muddy spots on her converses, thanks to the recent rain, and all the crumpled yellow leaves covering the ground. Anything, but him, his warm hazel eyes and those long dark eyelashes that framed them.
He stood there motionless without a word for few seconds that felt like minutes and impatiently ran fingers through his sandy blonde hair.
''Alright. I need to catch up on all this anyway...'' he said glancing at the small neat pile of books tucked under his hand.
''Ah yes, sorry. Don't get overworked, you will do well.'' she mumbled smiling as she rushed to climb up the stairs and get into her faculty building before it starts raining again, or before she changes her mind and go after him. She could not tell the difference.

Even If

My writing inclination often strikes me when I am least able to write, and recently it chooses to take place in the bus. By all means, writing there could be manageable, but somehow I prefer to avoid my over-weirdness being exposed as I scribble in a notebook with strangers peeking over my shoulder.
...

Quet. This is how my mind has been lately, doing everything in my power to ignore all of the unnecessary. Including you. It was one of this frivolous moments when the sun reminded me how to be happy on my own unusual and messed-up way. Even if...
But things happen for a reason, they are exactly the way they should be, and all that jazz. Or perhaps is it another thing we mutter to each other for the sake of comfort?
And here I am wondering what to do.
Now that I know blue is one of your favourite colours. That your deep hazel eyes acquire a shade of faint soft green upon the direct sunlight in an ordinary chilly March day. And that beyond this well-built facade of confidence and determination, is hiding a brief awkward smile of a boy, which drives me to want knowing more of you.
It is pointless to say that none of this originated from my initial intentions. When I started this game, it was never part of the equation. Ironically here I am writing this, now that I am left with the only option of avoiding. You and all the emotions that arise in me when we accidentally catch a glimpse of each other for few scarce seconds. Even if...

Rush

She could not say for definite if he made her feel alive, awaken, real, confused, obssessed, estatic, high, vivid, intoxicated, blunt, numb or [insert the next adjective that illustrates what you have ever experienced]. Because he made her feel. Everything at once and at the same time nothing. At the end hallowness blurred it all.
Constantly going back and forth. Two steps closer, one back. Wanting and resenting. Rebelling and accepting. Determination and doubtfulness. Truth and poorly structured self-convincing lies. The quet and afterwards the noise. The escape and the constraints. The adrenaline rush and the unavoidable fatigue.
He could yield so much with such ease that it was impossible for her to get enough, to reach completeness. Because completeness has never existed in her world. It astonished her and meanwhile scared her. He did. She was there and yet she was not. It seemed like there was a clock counting down the time left, but miliseconds were the only units that were present. The hours and minutes, they were all miliseconds. Less than a blink, less than a formed thought, less than a captured frame.

----

People spend in searching a great and ambiguous proportion of their lives.

Searching for a meaning, love, excitement, happiness, a way to numb the pain, a way to fulfill their dreams and goals, and why not just a way out, understanding, reasons, explanation, a person, a feeling, a miracle, solutions, answers, the right, and the wrong ones and the life itself. Often searching is occurring simultaneously with expectations. Otherwise why would people devote so much time and efforts if they never expect and hope to find it? Little do we know about the aftermath of this long and exhaustive search, or little do we care. People are going to tell you lies. You are going to give your fair share of lies as well. Hell, I am going to tell you lies. A lie, after another, because in fact what do we know for definite? Do you? I don't.
You will keep searching and subsequently discovering what you seeked for or you will have to comply with the harsh reality that such findings are not destined to some of you. In both alternatives, you will reach to an outcome, you will discover, but it might not be what you expected.
It might not be what you wanted.
Take it. Accept it. Understand it. Leave it. Forget it. Embrace it. But regardless of which of these you choose, it is not absolute. It is a subject to change.

You should not have smiled

I believed that when you looked at me, you actually saw through me. And no one else could, even if they tried,whilst you have never made any attempt. We met, exchanged glances and then each of us continued on our own way. But you knew that my way felt different after each unexpected encounter. I felt different. Perhaps I have already started the process of being different.

I always broke the gaze first, in a rush, afraid that if I don't do it right then in that second, I would not do it at all. You did see me at a moment when others could not. Not like you. Not with this sense, this raw, but so real emotion.
Vulnerability. Curiousity. Pride. Passion. Reluctance. Imapatience. Longness.
I did not need to talk to you, despite that I wanted to. I did not need to know your name, even though I wondered which name would suit you perfectly. And none actually did. I did not need to smile at you, nor being close to you.
All I needed was absorbing your glances, drowning in every bit of you reflected in your eyes.

Because I believed that when you looked at me, you saw through me.

But it was all a false assumption, an illusion, a mistake? You did look at me. And you did see me, but not the real me. You saw what you wanted to see, simply because if you ever knew me,

you would have never smiled.

Be(the)cause

I am not the girl who spends time wondering which decorative pillows to buy,
I am not the girl who is conveniently part of your social circle,
I am not the girl who bats her eyelashes and says hello when she sees you,
(even if I imagine tracing your strong jaw with my fingers).
I am not the girl who follows you around,
I am not the girl who will listen to you and do everything you say,
I might be the girl that you want,
but I am not the girl you will fall in love with,
I am not the girl of your life,

and that's fine.

Feelings

They have the power to create, to destroy and leave a trace. All at once. And there are moments when you become overhelmed by them to such an extent that you cannot express them. None.
Not even a sentence. But they persist. They take you back to the past, reminding you that you have felt them before. It does not mean you know how to change them. You are just standing there and waiting, for them to project, develop or eventually fade away. You can wait as long as you can or want to. They are irrelevant to time, and to everyone or everything else that yields them. They are relevant only to you. Feelings offered you the responsibility of choosing between longing and avoidance, reluctance and eagerness. They gifted you power. To create, destoy or be.

The Art of...

I was convinced to believe that there is no coincidene, or was I forced to. Days are different from one another, but there is something that makes them suspiciously too similar sometimes. The leap. The way out. The art of letting go.

For some it is hard, for others managable, but it can also be impossible to achieve. We can choose from which ones we want to be, or can we? I would like to believe we can, but then I would indirectly assign all the blame and it would not be right. But it never is. We are supposed to be smarter than this, yet we still tend to make the same mistakes. Because we want to or because we feel to. The boundaries can get blurry and we can get confused.

The way human mind functions is astonishing, but far too complex to comprehend. Certain things, even the least expected ones can trigger emotions far beyond our power to grasp and get a hold on to. Beyond simplicity, beyond ultimate understanding.
The art of continuing. The art of overcoming. The art of finding. The art of living.