Curate, connect, and discover
Fyp - Blog Posts
i was on my way to the library when i noticed my shoe lace undone. i bend down to tie it but i’m having a bit of trouble since i’m carrying a tote bag that kept slipping off my shoulder as well as my lunch box and a thermos cup. this stranger comes out of nowhere and offers to carry my things while i tie my shoe lace. it was such a random little act of kindness that instantly warmed my heart and had me smiling like a fool. it made me think about how random small acts of kindness such as those could make someone’s shitty day even a little bit brighter and how lovely it is for humans to simply act kindly towards one another without expecting anything in return.
My favourite thing ever is the fact that the Trials of Apollo chapter names are all Haikus
I love how when you first read Catch-22, it can be, well, kind of confusing near the beginning. However, at least in my case, since it was interesting and well written I personally didn't mind.
But slowly, everything sort of ties itself together. It also gets increasingly more and more serious. An obvious example of this would be chapter 39, 'The Eternal City.' But for me, one that really stuck out to me was chapter 32, 'Yo-Yo's Roomies.' It really did a good job of showing how much Yossarian truly missed Orr, no matter how many times Orr pissed off Yossarian.
At the same time, that chapter I also found notably funny in the way it's written. Especially the lines "They reminded him of Donald Duck's nephews," and "They had not brains enough to be introverted and repressed." and I just love how it's them being nice and friendly to Yossarian with overall good intentions xD.
Also rereading this makes things so much more understandable. All the random details mentioned, its even better when you know the context behind those little references, like "It was still more frustrating to try to appeal directly to Major Major, the long and bony sqaudron commander, who looked a little bit like Henry Fonda in distress and went jumping out the window of his office each time Yossarian bullied his way past Sergent Towser to speak to him about it." It's fun reading that actually knowing who Major Major Major Major is and why he does in fact, jump out the window.
I think that's kind of why some people dislike/give up on this book (well part of the reason) because it can seem kind of random the first time through, but for me personally, that was part of the beauty of it the first time I read it. Idk though, I just personally reveled in the beginning chaos.
THIS! Since he succeeded in realizing it was his people teaching this prejudice, not his faith, he didn't have to lose that important part of himself to become less prejudiced. And he probably wouldn't have anyways, but still. Some would've distanced themselves from all of it to become a better person or might've had to. But he didn't.
Really, really need people to understand how important it is that Matthias kept his faith while unlearning the toxic beliefs that people had instilled in him. That’s really important to his character actually.
I always read this as Mariah Carey going "it's TIIIIIIMEEE."
Idk why I needed to say that-
Matthais being killed essentially by a younger version of himself will never fail to make me sad. Even in SoC, I always had a bit of a soft spot for him. I'm not sure why, but I just...did, I guess? And I was so happy when he made it over his hurdles in SoC. When he finally accepted how much he actually adored Nina.
But mostly, it's him coming to terms with the fact that maybe Grisha aren't all that bad. I absolutely loved his arc of overcoming his own prejudices. I also love how it isn't very rushed. His acceptance didn't feel sudden to me, it made perfect sense when it happened considering everything, at least in my opinion.
I only watched season 1 and a bit of season 2 of Shadow and Bone, so if it's different in the series (which I wouldn't know myself because I don't really remeber the show other than somehow squishsing the Crows in with the main story,) disregard this post.
I feel this is even more apparent in Beast, seeing how they act under different circumstances. While they were affected by their pasts in the same way, seeing how, for example, Atsushi's whole bit about how he kills because he's afraid of death. It shows how fearful he is and how far he's willing to go in the name of self-preservation, even though he acts somewhat more 'softer' than Akutagawa in both universes. Or how he's trying to 'escape' the guilt of killing the Headmaster.
Or when Akutagawa gets mad at Junichiro for being overly rough with Naomi in his entrance exam. Not only does that show how he's a 'protector at heart,' but it shows how kind and caring he is on the inside, even if he has an odd way of showing it. Another example with Akutagawa is his unlikely friendship with Kenji and how careful he is with farming. It may be small, but it shows he gentle Akutagawa is capable of being, despite it all.
Sorry, that post just got me thinking lol
OK correct me if I'm wrong, but I feel like the main 'yin/yang' parallel with Atsushi and Akutagawa is not something like 'this one is bad but secretly has a good side and this one is good but secretly has a bad side'.
I feel like it's more about 'who they are at their core vs who they choose to be'.
At his core Akutagawa is kind and at his core Atsushi is not. But despite this Atsushi tries every day to make the kinder choices and I love him so much for it. He has to work so hard to be good.
He wants to be a bitch SO bad I know he does but he tries his best to help people and be nice (sometimes he fails but that's OK <3)
Atsushi doesn't always WANT to help people, a lot of the time he's selfish and scared, but he does help people anyway. He keeps helping people over and over again. There's still some selfish motivation to it, and his initial motivation for helping people was because the headmaster told him that's all he was worth, but overall he does care about the people he helps and it weighs on him if he fails to save them. And of course, as the series goes on he starts helping people more because he can rather than because he feels like he needs to.
In Akutagawa's case, he's still capable of being kind but his environment led him into being someone who chooses to hurt people. But he's always been a protector at heart. In the start he was bad compared to Atsushi because he was choosing to hurt people and keep the cycle of abuse going. Just like how Atsushi developed in why he saved people, Akutagawa starts to get redeemed when he chooses to not just act on his rage. Not only does he start to spare people, but he speaks more kindly to them (apologising to Higuchi and telling Kyouka he's proud of her). It all culminates into the moment he chooses to help Atsushi and sacrifice himself for him, going back to his core value of being a protector. Even when he's finally revived, he keeps this role in his new position as Aya's Knight.
I kind of see the streaks of white in Akutagawa and the streaks of black in Atsushi not as their 'hidden sides' but as their fundamental selfs. That's who they are at their core, and their main colours (black for Akutagawa and white for Atsushi) are how they're presented to everyone else and how they try to have people see them as.
✩♡₊˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖˚˖𓍢ִ໋˚⋆˚✿˖°
[OC] their names are Enny and Philip - They own a coffee shop together
SEMANA DO STRIKE (18/02 - 25/02)
LINKS:
Lista de boicote BDS
Arab.org (CLIQUE TODO DIA)
Petições que você pode assinar
THREADS:
🜏MOCK CHR*ST!🜏
made this one just for fun...
Dear friends
Your donation can make a difference in saving my family, even if it is limited. I ask you, my friends, to increase your donation, even if it is a little, I really need your help.
thank you from the bottom of my heart for your presence and support 🌹🙏
WHAT YOUR CAMERA ROLL WILL BE IF U DATED eliana and noah
eliana kalogeras x reader x noah rising fluff
It was a crisp afternoon, the air carrying the faint scent of pine and fresh earth. The three of you found yourselves tucked away at a secluded spot by a lake, the perfect place to escape the noise of everyday life. Eliana, with her calming presence, was curled up on a blanket under a large oak tree, sketching quietly in her notebook. Noah, ever the laid-back and thoughtful type, was stretched out beside you, his fingers absently brushing over the grass.
You were sitting between them, smiling to yourself as you watched the clouds drift lazily by. The warmth of their company was all you needed to feel at peace. Noah caught your eye and grinned, nudging your shoulder with his.
"Bet I can guess your favorite cloud," he said, his voice teasing yet soft.
You raised an eyebrow, playing along. "Oh, really? And how do you plan to do that?"
"I don't know, maybe I’ll just read your mind," Noah said, flashing his signature mischievous grin.
You laughed, shaking your head. "Give it a try."
Eliana, overhearing the banter, looked up from her sketchbook with a smile. "He's not wrong, you know. He’s got an uncanny way of knowing things."
Noah winked and leaned back on his elbows, looking at the sky with a thoughtful expression. "It’s all about energy. I can feel what people are thinking."
You raised an eyebrow. "You do, huh? Well then, what am I thinking right now?"
Noah pretended to concentrate, tapping his finger against his temple. "Hmm… you’re thinking I’m ridiculously handsome and you can’t resist this charm."
You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide your smile. "Nice try, but you’re off by a mile."
Eliana laughed softly at your playful exchange, her eyes twinkling. She closed her sketchbook and patted the blanket beside her. "Come sit with me," she invited, her voice soft and warm.
You stood up and joined her, feeling Noah’s gaze follow you, a soft chuckle escaping him.
As you sat down beside Eliana, she nudged you lightly with her shoulder, her hand brushing against yours. "You know," she said, her voice low and sweet, "this is exactly where I want to be right now."
You smiled, feeling the weight of her words settle in your chest. In this moment, surrounded by the people who made you feel like you belonged, everything felt just right. With Noah’s easygoing charm and Eliana’s quiet strength, you knew you had something special—something that would last.
I hope you liked that! Would you like to add more to the scene or try something different? Let me know what you think!
The sunlight began to wane, casting long shadows on the grass, but the three of you were content, enjoying the peace of the moment. Eliana shifted closer, her head resting lightly on your shoulder as she closed her eyes, breathing in the crisp evening air. The peaceful silence was comfortable, with only the occasional rustle of leaves or soft ripple of water in the distance.
Noah sat a bit further off but still within reach, tossing a stone into the water every few seconds, watching it skip across the surface. He glanced back at the two of you and smiled, the kind of smile that was genuine and warm. "You guys make everything feel a little more… magical, you know that?"
You chuckled softly. "Magical, huh? You're not wrong. This place definitely has a certain charm."
Eliana’s fingers found yours, the touch gentle but grounding. "It’s more than just the place," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "It’s the people you’re with."
You could feel her heart flutter slightly, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the three of you—this small, perfect moment where nothing else mattered.
Noah rolled onto his side, resting his head in his hand as he looked over at the two of you, eyes shining with something unspoken. "I think this is one of those moments we’re gonna look back on, right? Years from now, we’ll be like, 'Remember that time by the lake?'"
"Yeah," you agreed, a smile tugging at your lips. "I think so too."
There was something about the way Noah spoke, always with a sense of calm assurance, like he could see the future, and in his mind, it was bright. You’d always known that Noah had a way of making things feel safe, like no matter what the world threw your way, you could always come back to moments like this.
Eliana let out a soft sigh, her thumb brushing over your knuckles as she leaned into you, the connection between you deepening with each passing second. She didn’t need words to express how much she valued this time, this feeling of being anchored to something real.
"Promise me we’ll always have days like this," Eliana murmured, her voice soft but earnest.
You squeezed her hand gently, looking at her with sincerity. "I promise."
"And no matter where life takes us," Noah added, voice laced with quiet conviction, "we’ll always find our way back here."
The promise hung in the air, unspoken but understood, the three of you wrapped up in the shared hope that moments like this could be endless.
You sat there, wrapped in the quiet and the soft murmur of the world around you. There was no rush to leave, no need to move, because you were exactly where you needed to be. The day was fading, but you knew the memories made in these quiet, simple moments would last far beyond the sunset.
What if i start posting about my dead smp what then
Seeing other small accounts on my feed actually pisses me off so bad because what do you mean this drawing that looks like a gift from the heavens has 15 fucking notes I am actually so mad
what’s your favourite thing to have on pancakes?
Suri
Habitat: greenwood Forest
Age limit:39 (since it's fake)
The coat color can be: brown, black, tan with black splotches or flipflop
It has very thick fur but it's never under -7 where they are most found. They have this very thick fur to keep them very very warm since they are extremely sensitive to cold weather and can die in the matter of hours
They are wild animals but are very protective of people/pack members or animals they have a bond with.
With months and months of training or if you raise it from birth it can be a ""house" pet they don't need lots of space they make do with what they have.
They have huge, large feet, when they walk they "stomp" and make lots of noise to scare off any predators they might encounter, though they can fight off most predators they dont want to waste their energy just in case they need it (they are very smart)
The Suri can go up to 1 year without eating and only having water since most places they lived rarely had food so they adapted to the surroundings
They are native to north America and are usually found there but they can be spotted all over the globe (no cold places tho) but they are more common to be found in Minnesota and Missouri, Mississippi
They have tusks like a sabor tooth, and are about 10 feet and 16 feet standing on its hind legs. The suri's diet usually consists of fish, rabbits, and deer, It will also eat Berry's!
They are very stealthy and slick so their prey doesn't know they are coming. They can jump up to 7feet!
I'm so proud of myself even if it's bad I still am I'm only 13:D
Home?
I felt free only when I was at home.
Home, where I was born and raised, the place that crafted the person I am today. The capital of my state was a hectic place for sure, in fact I still remember the anxiety I used to have every day in the middle of the street full of hundred of people that only stared at me and at each other because that was one of the few things they knew how to do.
But, I have to be honest with you because that might be the only thing that my country lacked in: it is surely not my home anymore.
I have realised many negative elements of that place, one of many is exactly the toxicity it use to carry. People had become poisonous to each other and to their own blood. They would hate people and spit venom about other people's lives. Ungrateful fucking people.
So, affermative. My country ain't the best. And I come from it. But, it isn't my home anymore. Actually I don't have a home right now. As in, at the moment I don't have a city or a place I can call my home. I don't think I even want to find it, perhaps I am accustomed to being a nomad. It doesn't necessarily mean that I love doing it though, perhaps it's just how I got used to surviving.
I am Ariadne and I want to tell you what I think about life. Well, we are simple humans following the same rules and the same values, even though some of us don't really follow them but that's definitley irrelevant, and we are different in the matter of opinions. Even that though was the same at some point. But still there were some of us that wanted to destroy those norms, attempting to create new ones, like I said before, irrelevant.
Humans are divided into two genders: male and female. And with sexual actions they can reproduce new beings to our race. We have one race. We are all humans. But to some of us even these aspects I just listed to you are absolutely ridiculous, so they created new genders, new ways of sexual actions, new methods to reproduce and other absurd races.
We humans are never satisfied with how things were made. We want new things and we want to make them ourselves because that's what really satisfies us. Imagine the proudness one feels after demolishing the rules of nature, they would be thrilled as hell. How do I know that? I mean, it takes one to know the other. I've never been one that broke the rules but I have done some things, despite being small and not even worth mentioning.
I have surely changed a lot lately. In fact, I'm not the same person I was before because apparently I don't have a home to return to, other than my family, and I am not what my country wanted me to be. I'm not particularly proud of it. I'm actually indifferent to it. It might be because I'm continuously changing like a flower does every day.
Un animale chiuso dentro il palmo dell’avversario.
Eccomi.
In gabbia.
Non so cosa mi fai ricordare; Quando tu, sei vicino a me, e io più ti vedo più penso a come sono la tua preda.
Ti osservo attentamente; prendo le tue abitudini.
Ci assomigliamo tantissimo e non so perché x
Io vedo te, che però sei me.
Sono chiusa in una stanza, piccola assai da prendermi il fiato. E tu, sei un mafioso, mi hai torturato, ucciso e poi mi hai raccolto di nuovo, accarezzandomi le guance con una tenerezza strana.
E cosa avrei potuto fare, io?
Non capisci. Io sono una tua preda.
Qua a New York funziona così la vita.
O fai la preda, o sei il predatore.
“Pensai che toccava a me, prete, dargli quello che gli era dovuto e lasciare che fosse Dio, non gli uomini, a giudicarlo”
-domanda fatta in un intervista a Padre Gigante da Maurizio Chierici per un libro chiamato “Gli eredi dei gangsters”,1975.
Ah, Padre. Dio viene sempre messo in causa. Non vi vergognate?
Io di certo, no. Lo so che sono la preda, del mio nemico, ma sono fiera di esserlo.
Almeno, lui é presente.
Wuthering Heights
(This is a brief inspiration I had after reading Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte and after listening to Kate Bush' song.)
Oh! It's him! He's here!
Oh! It's him! He's here!
Oh! It's him! He's here!
Oh! It's him! He's here........
and so, the voices whispered near my ear...
It was a windy day, clouds were blocking the Sun's light, protecting our eyes from its lethal rays. The Rain was soon to come and English people were strangely "happy" for it to come. Grey engulfed their senses, the vain shades of color appearing frequently and the cold burning the tip of their nose, forcing their instincts to shoot out at fluttering around to find anything to use as a cover. After all this daily mundane suffering, they still loved these landscapes and the punishment that came with them.
I was hiding in the little corner of his office, shaking wildly. Trembles came out of everywhere.
He had the temper of one of Zeus' child, Ares. My former lover, Ares (yes, exactly him), was also overflowed with fury and rage, not really understanding where it came from. A God who loved battle, blood, competiton and anger. He fought until the end of it all, just like his father, that's why Zeus never preferred him as a child.
With me, he was a strange monster. You must wonder why would I think in such a way about a former lover... Well, he was not a human, nor an alien, he was a God. I'm saying this because at the beginning I didn't know what he was. When he started courting me, I hadn't noticed the immense love he had for me, which was unacceptable to me; how could a man love a woman thusly? He hadn't known me, nor had he ever seen me previously, even by mistake. I'm sure of it. Hence, my intuition told me that he was not a good sign, coming to me and confessing such a profound love. "And who do you think you are, behaving to such a degree without any further motivation?"
The strangest part was that he didn't even manage to show me his family, that enormous family of his, that he was so eager to introduce me to. But, I saw his mother in my dreams. Hera. That woman. That Goddess- The mother in law I couldn't be able to have.
She was caressing my hair and cheeks while fondly looking at me as if she created me with her own hands. Perhaps, she did. We could never know.
Hera was speaking to me, in a language I understood at that moment but once I woke up, I couldn't seem to remember a thing.
What happened next made me freeze to death, literally. She moved her hand, with the intention to caress my belly. I had no idea what she was trying to do at that time. While doing so, she raised her head, looking at me and smiling once again, in such a fondly way that even in real life I felt the tears starting to shed from my eyes. That explains the wet eyes and pillow I had once I woke up.
I woke up. Ares was by my side, sleeping soundly. I was shaking. Trembles were fluttering their way up my body. Ares, still deep in his sleep, he raised his arm up, gripped my hip and moved me to the inside of his hairy chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around me, he scooted his head in my neck and sighed with a warm breath making me shudder under him.
I'm a cold little woman who needs heat coming out of her "husbands" body, words and eyes.
It was all a sign, to tell me that something was going on.
On 2 June, a Sunday, he left and never came back. Where to go, I don't know. But my soul and energy reeked of him still, my inner witch, that was hidden in the profounds of the universe, searched for him like a desperate bitch.
He left on my birthday.
And I loved him wholly, even if he was a monster.
He's here! We want his heat! Let him burn us!
He's here! We want his heat! Let him burn us!
He's here! We want his heat! Let him burn us!
He's here! We want his heat! Let him burn us!
and so, the voices started once again...
Mars was his name. The man that came in my house and bribed me under his own fate.
Now I tremble wholly and my body needs my "husbands" heat. Where will I find it?
He comes to me. Every step he takes, I feel even colder than before. My body freezing, but my soul doesn't seem to shut up.
He is now so close to me that he could hear my heart beating.
"Xena, my love..." he whispers so softly that even I am bewildered at how I managed to hear it.
That name. "No. Don't say that name." he can't. How did he? He should be dead now. No human or other specie can ever utter that name.
"Xena... it's me. Look at me, please." he softly utters my name again.
He isn't dead. Why? How?
Ares! Lover! Come here! We're so cold!
Ares! Lover! Come here! We're so cold!
Ares! Lover! Come here! We're so cold!
Ares! Lover! Come here! We're so cold!
I shake my head wildly. Why are they not shutting up? Why can you not understand that he left us? my voice echoes in my head silencing them. For now, because they started once again.
I look up. There he is. My Ares.
"Xena, it's me, Ares." he calls.
The voices were silent. His voice was exactly Ares' voice. But how-
"You aren't! Mars how? What are you- what are you trying to do?" my voice trembles from the cold I felt. He looked like my Ares and he was as tall as him. The unique height that only my husband had.
It can't be true.
"Xena... think about it. Why would someone be named Mars?" he questioned me, inviting me to think.
Mars. In Latin for the God of war, Ares. The one and only deity that had made such an imponent famous story throughout the archaic Rome.
While trembling from the cold, I raise my hands and caress my freezing cheeks; he managed to call me by my name without dying. He has the same features and physic as him. The name is exactly the same as his but in a different language.
So, it's truly him.
I remove my hands away from my face and I raise my head up, looking towards him. Tears come out of my eyes, flooding my entire sight.
"Ares?" I say in a meek voice, which I doubt he would hear if he'd have a normal hearing.
He just nods his head, "Xena. It's me, Ares. I've come home." he says whispering.
"Ares! It's you! You're here!" I call for him while tremendously shaking like a leaf.
He comes extremely close to me, grips me at the wrists and gets me up from my seated position, engulfing me in his arms.
His heat consumes me, making me feel whole again. My body and senses burn, finally having my lover back.
Fire eruptes from my sides, unleashing the beast I had been hiding for decades. My true self was with him now.
He's here! He's finally here!!!!!!!
He's here! He's finally here!!!!!!!
He's here! He's finally here!!!!!!!
He's here! He's finally here!!!!!!!
and so, the voices resided in the profounds of Goddess' Xena.
This was the extraordinary love story of Ares and Xena.
K.M.
Eldritch being.
As Jim Morrison says "Nobody remembers your name, when you're strange." it reminds me of the times I felt strange.
Now, let me explain; it wasn't because I was alone or felt lonely, I was gorwing up. I was a rider on a storm; specifically experiencing "youth". But, why did I feel strange? And, was I the only one who felt strange?
No, there was a plethora of children playing, feeling strange and fighting for freedom not knowing what was waiting for them at the end of the day.
Why we felt that way, I'm not certain, but I will clarify. Investigating this case is quite arduous. There's a storm following my every single step. I move to the right, it is there, behind my head, staring into my soul and haunting my mind. I go to the left, it is there, beside my ear, making me deaf to every other noise in the background and my thoughts are silenced.
And, I feel strange. Because, we all are strange. Men are wicked; they abandon you at the weirdest situations of your life, stabbing you in the heart and leaving a dirty smell to the point of your nose, significantly abusing your sensitive parts.
Now, was I really strange? Certainly, yes. Because, like I mentioned before, we are all strange. Rain falls on top of our heads, water engulfs our very being, flooding into our eyes and hardening our eyelashes. But, we still embrace it. We claim that we love it. Aren't we strange?
Bizarre, abnormal. People, in fact never wanted to talk to me; I apparently seemed "unfamiliar" (an elegant way to say to a person who is strange). Even my name comes from a word in Greek "xeno" = strange.
It's interesting how these people who dared to think of me as someone abnormal, were all some ignorant things, useless and with no talents. They were all jealous little worms, that liked to act dominant in front of a person who knew how to value time.
Matter of fact, I valued time. I still do. But, I had a façade; I was an innocent, docile and quite girl who always nodded and never raised her voice. I was hiding the real me. The strange version of me.
I embrace fear. I'm attached to danger; the one that makes you feel light and free. The adrenaline that you feel when you trespass the limits. What limits you might say? Every single thing that even comes to your mind.
I feel it in my bones; the rage and the fear combined together crafting chaos around me. And it all grasps. It all stongly tightens around my neck, making me gasp for air. I prefer being strange. I want to value time to pass my entire life into oblivion. I don't really have to worry about having a boring, office life; I'm addicted to thrill.
So, am I a stranger?
Well, if I were with a gorup of "normal" people then yes I would be a stranger; they are all the smame: dark and lizards. They crave for a bit of dominance and money. Time for them doesn't exist, instead they embrace impulsiveness. Aren't they monsters?
I'm alluding to a realm full of masks that hide in their inside an excess of hate and evil personalities, and try guessing what surrounds these outrageous beings? Other masks, but strange ones.
Voilà! WE ARE ALL STRANGE!
Hallelujah
Is there truly a religion?
I always question myself about my religion.
What do I believe in? At first I thought I was catholic but in reality my relatives practiced the orthodox religion and pushed me to do the same. Then my grandpa believed in the muslim theories and my father too. My mother claimed to be an orthodox. As time passed by, she realised something very strange; all religions believe in one thing: God. And it is true.
My family’s culture in fact is pagan. My hometown’s population was and still is based in paganism. We are patriotic and we believe in our town. We believe that there’s a God but we don’t practice religions. Perhaps, we never had a religion. Conquests influenced our population and culture, imposing a new emphasis of social differences and new words on our language. Our language was and still is un religious. It’s hard to believe I know, but that’s how it is. In our language the only thing we had was “God”.
That’s why I don’t have a faith. Or perhaps, my only faith is my consciousness.
Was it all a way to fool people’s mind from finding out the truth of Earth’s origins and history?
Or was it all true?
I just know that I don’t believe in any religion. I believe in God and myself.
Do I respect other religions and faiths or beliefs? Of course I do. Who am I to neglect their existence? I shall respect but not only, I ought to study them because their historical behaviors amaze our provenience. We are human beings that without religions’ existence we wouldn’t know what we are.
Is there more to know about our existence? Of course there is.
Do they want us to know about them? Of course not. You’d be a fool to believe otherwise.
And why, when I listen to Jeff Buckley’s song, I feel deeply touched? I am uncertain.
Is art somehow connected to religion?
Or is God connected to art?
It’s completely complicated. How can a mere person come and claim to know how to respond to these questions? Are you that much of a fool to think that we are allowed to ask of this thematics?
Nonetheless, I will continue praying at difficult times.
Sirop de Fraise
pur sucre
Oh, fraise. You make me feel unsteady with your saccharine juice.
And, why so? I haven't the faintest idea.
It is particularly strange to think that I might be attached to a red fruit. A tiny one, at that.
Fraise, strawberry, is my God. It crafts a welcoming juice into my mouth's sensitive parts. I feel its nectar flowing in my lips, tongue and palate. It graciously stains my lips, leaving behind a natural reddish color and finally making me more esthetically appealing to men's eyes.
Fraise, fragola, brings me to paradise. While the essence floods down my esophagus, my cheeks burn. Try guessing where my mind went to? I couldn't tell you.
Fraise, fresa, la reina de las frutas. Why do they call her that? In its composition, it is the only fruit in the world that has the seeds on the outside. And in addition, its intense fragrance and sweet taste make it irresistible. So, remember that you are savoring the queen of fruits. Does this make you a queen too? Well, it depends. Do you have seeds on the outside? My man used to have freckels for seeds. He had them everywhere. Even in his adam's apple.
Fragum, fragaria, Fragaria. Wild strawberries grew in the forests of France and Italy during ancient Roman times. They used to believe that the "fraga" were special fruit that had medicinal properties and used them to heal wounds or to make spells.
Erdbeere, strawberry, the first fruit to ripen in spring, making them a delightful harbinger of warmer days. My man, who loved munching on some strawberries, smelled of their fragrance. And he augmented my fertility. I was devoted to his seeds and sperm. It would surge in my insides, producing a new feeling in my head. We had unique offsprings. They were all made of love and strawberries. We took care of them and brought them up, nurtured them to be as lavish and eager as strawberries.
Be careful about the origins of your strawberries. Check out their provenience, because in sylvis proveniunt fungi, fraga, myrtilli et cetera.
Placentne tibi fraga?
Hawaii.
While listening to “wayamaya” by lana del rey (lizzy grant) made me feel all good about summer. Here in my hometown is hot as fuck. And I’m dying from the heat; summer is hot and floral. Not floral as in “full of flowers” but the atmosphere of it. Like, singing country songs while running through the fields full of green and flowers, with the sun shining and hitting on my head; but I put a hat over my head and a pair of sunglasses, happy with what I have. My mother has brought me up this way: free and young. She says that we can be 80years old and still feel young and free. In fact, she had taught me to keep living through everything, either hard or easy. She has taught me to be easygoing, thoughtless and free; the most important part is to live the carpe diem or nocte diem. So, to live the present day; the “me” of today. Is it possible to be you when you want to be you? Yes.
So can I be free and easygoing, today? Of course.
The point is: be happy with what you have. You have little money, no worries. Live the little things you have around you. It’s not hard you know? I am writing this while being me. It’s summer and it’s hot as hell, but I keep on running through these fields of words; unknown words. Like me.
I might know who I am and how I am, but you don’t. Am I running now through your mind?
Oh yes I am.
I might be crazy but what I say is true.
Us, poets, have the right to control readers’ thoughts. We have a unique talent; dancing to elvis presley’s harmonies and putting words in a sheet paper. We are all set to follow the command of our creativity, which allows us to put words together and to bring the imagination of something impossible into your eyes.
And that’s why we are poets. We are big wave surfers living in the Wayamaya bay.
Who I am?
"I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don't ask me who i am."
This reminds me of a particular scene in my life; my Spanish teacher had always been really strict and weirdly relentless into educating us (my class and I), believing that behaving so, she was doing a great job. Instead, she was doing quite the opposite of what she intended to; inflicting her personal beliefs and faiths into our culture, she destroyed our own authenticity or better said, identity.
Now personally talking, I remember that in first year of high school, she said something really interesting to a girl in my class meanwhile scolding her in a, dare I say, cruel way; "How can you expect me to understand what kind of teaching you deserve when you don't even know yourself?".
It's weird because at that time those words weren't surely directed at me, but I flinched so hard that had me speechless.
Didn't that girl really know herself?
Didn't that girl really know who she was?
Does she know who she is right now?
Since those words were pronounced by that ascetic woman, have already been three long years. And I still think of those religiously.
Did I know who I was at that time?
Do I know who I am now?
I certainly can't answer this question. As Sylvia Plath said, I know what I like and what I dislike. I'm 24/7 thinking about how I want to be meanwhile not knowing who I am.
Now my faith is probably this; finding out who I am. And how do I find this out? I don't know.