Poetically well built museums


early in the morning

‘Perhaps it took a stranger* to make a woman like her speak her mind. Perhaps this is why lunatics have a harder time dating, not because they are off the wall but because it is hard to find someone who is willing to date so many people in one person.
Little did she know that he was not going to be just a stranger*… perhaps’.
– inspired by Elif Shafiq –
*DEVIANT/ nonconformist, eccentric, maverick, individualist, exception, outsider, misfit, fish out of water, square peg in a round hole, round peg in a square hole

The domino effect


early in the morning

‘He wanted her to press him to stay, but, it was plain, she hadn’t done that. Perhaps he did not dared to tell her how frightened he was. To her he had always been gay, bold, adventurous and devil-may-care. And now, the prisoner of his own lies, he did not find the strength to confess himself the mean and sneaking coward he was. The doubt, the gnawing doubt that had tortured her during those dreadful days of suspense was no longer a doubt. Believe it or not, she could smell the sea.’

Billy buttons, cabaret and mango chutney


early in the morning

‘There are seven people in my house. We each have different genders. I cut my hair over the bathroom sink and everything I own has a hole in it. There is a banner in our living room that says “Love Cats Hate Capitalism.” We sit around the kitchen table and argue about the compost pile and Karl Marx and the necessity of violence when The Rev comes. Whatever the fuck The Rev means.’
I am untamed, fifty percent
A glimpse of your ankle just killed me, fifty percent
Everything about my heart is not a crime scene, error.
I am what happens after the war.

Encounter of the heart


*Your ignorance will never move inside of me and will leave me harmless, but when you abuse of the important things, that’s the moment when you crack my inner peace and this will be the last time you’ll see me around. There is only one true meaningful fight in this life and that is for your personal inner peace. It may sound egocentric, but if you have a second look, this will only bring good things to others. True wisdom comes in peace and not in war, even though they can’t exist one without other. Let your ego starve for once and see how it feeds itself from other things. Choose your fights carefully and let yourself be a fool after you loved a person that didn’t deserve, just because next time you’ll pick better. Still, let yourself bleed for everything as this is the door to a different way of seeing things. Gain victories over the human spirit and be one with the garden in front of you!

Finally, my mind is exactly where it’s supposed to be. Everything is inherently cinematic!

No nimbus


early in the morning

I want to lend myself to others, but give myself to myself. From now on, always and forever.
I work on keeping my mind healthy and my heart happy.
I will remember about the fundamental goodness in people, even when they’re chaotic and they don’t pay attention to the stimuli they receive.
This means that I will adjust my expectations so I can minimize the disappointment.
What did I find when I stripped away the layers of my being? I’ve been tamed, I’ve been given a lovely nickname, I’ve been missed, I’ve been helped, I’ve been working with joy, I’ve been improving myself, I’ve been appreciated for my empathy and my abilities… and I’ve been smiling! Just because there’s no more pressure on my shoulders and chest.

Letter to whom I was before September, 2014


early in the morning

‘I am learning to see. I don’t know why it is, but everything enters me more deeply and doesn’t stop where it once used to. I have an interior that I never knew of… What’s the use of telling someone that I am changing? If I’m changing, I am no longer who I was (…)
This is the miracle that happens every time to those who really love: the more they give, the more they possess.’
Rainer Maria Rilke

Pivot of heels and knees in Budapest


early in the morning

Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing. I want to fill it with color and ducks, The zoo of the new
Whose names you meditate — April snowdrop, Indian pipe, Little
Stalk without wrinkle, Pool in which images Should be grand and classical
Not this troublous Wringing of hands, this dark Ceiling without a star.

Sylvia Plath