More often than sometimes...

Sometimes you may just need to hear kind loving words; other times you might need those arms to roll up and fold around your ribs to squeeze your burdens out…  When you are worn-out, you may long for that shoulder to soak it in your tears, while you lean your head on… You wish those hands would slide on your cheeks wiping sorrows that have been draining your eyes and rub warm your back to comfort you bringing down the castle of your fears.

Sometimes you crave the heart that beats to the beat of yours. A heart that would listen, understand and speak right into yours …whose touch would cure the ache. You yearn to the eyes that would look through yours, right into your precious core, and see how diamonds and pearls are found pitiful for falling short of your equity.

Who would that be? Who would have those arms and whose heart would it be? Who would collect bits and pieces of the broken you. Bit by bit would fit you together and fill your cracks, fashioning a fresher new YOU. A new YOU that would be incomparably wondrous than the one you ever aspired to be.

Who would watch you while you’re sleeping, waiting for you to shine back the day. While you lay your head on his knees, he would run his palm through your hair combing your worries away and melting down your doubts. Who would drink you sip by sip and never would waste a drop of you. Who would offer himself flesh and blood to keep your heart intact.

Sometimes, even more often than sometimes, you dream of such heart to be yours, or to be yours…

Andy.

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Honey-sweet Paradox!

Between the lines are the inexpressible yet, manifested. There reclines the unseen yet recognized, distinguished and identified. You can feel the confusion caused by a honey-sweet sourness, hesitation of a confident heart, a smile of eyes filled with tears and the benevolence of a broken heart. Between the paradox of synonyms and the agreement of antonyms, words fall short to weave the portrayal of what's in him.

Sometimes it’s all said when she says nothing... And its always there when they speak. They tease the air between them trying to figure out what's within one another, though inviting joy among them. A look here, a blush there and eye to eye sight that she cannot bear... They enjoy their togetherness wherever they may go and ending their meetings does nothing but spicing up what they experience together..

When its bed time, she hugs her pillow tight, squeezing it as much as she misses him, wishing it would incarnate him, even for some time. She rolls in her bed of dreams finding no comfort while spilling thoughts of him everywhere around her pillows. And she doesn't fall asleep for no dream would be compared to her thought of him.

Yet, what's between the lines remain between the lines... But, maybe one day those lines may fade to reveal what's in there between them... If I would be able to strip the poems off their words, and the music off its tones, just to know what's there between the lines... But what would music be with no tones and poems with no words... So, let the inevitable truth reveal it all, for it's all said when she says nothing..


I bet you have put yourself in Her/ His place... It has been the case with many, for so long... Same old story, same old song...

Andy.

How she is and how we are...

Yeah... An experience no like tasting deliciousness neither seeing extravagant beauty nor touching heaven with my hands... It eradicates the worries of the day and kindles joy in my heart. Her voice soothingly expressed morning greetings, like the flow of a smooth water fall into the rivers of my veins…  As close as her voice is over the phone, I wish her lips murmured it into my ears to feel her breath brush my cheek, wrapping me up in softness of her words…  

I can hear her smile and see her laughter. It just fuels my heart with her charm. The scent of fumes of mutual yearnings, fills our surroundings, fills the gaps between us… She sighs at my words, trying to keep pace of her breath while losing the thought of the now and traveling on a cloud of reveries… She enjoys it all for the state of trans she dwells within while experiencing something of me, something about me, or maybe just me...

She offers me the chance to be lazy full of fun, allowing me to fake my helplessness that puzzles her mind. That’s when her motherly instinct shows up to me, acting like mummy towards her babe... She loves it when she scolds her naughty boy for whatever. She will just give it a name and rebuke him for it... 

She wonders anticipating my every thought… She's captivated in words that irritate her curiosity, growing her restlessness and steering butterflies of anxiety in her stomach, shaking her inside out. Even my silence provokes her, drives her out of sanity, though I never meant it.

That's just a snippet of how she is and how we are... 

Andy.

Good Morning

She! She's not just a she. For him she is the moon and the stars. Without her he is a dark, empty gloomy sky. She would trade the world for him. He is the world she lives in. He is the dream she fantasizes and the reality she dwells within...

She is the tenderness of lilium and beauty of daffodils, yet she is the spirit of restless enthusiasm of an unstoppable dreaming child... Wherever she steps, she blows out joy like jasmine spreads its scent on a spring morning sunrise.

He was in the garden reading one of his favorite novels, sitting on the grass and leaning his back against the tree. The tree that witnessed most of their moments together and heard the sweet words they used to share.

She strolled into his solitude and sat beside him on the thick green carpet of grass underneath the tree, leaning forward so she can see his face, looking at him from the side. He turned his head slowly to look at her startling eyes and her genuinely smiling face. He reached her cheek with his palm and slowly placed his lips against her forehead releasing a kiss saying “Good morning”.

Andy.

Hypnotized

I opened the door, and she came in spreading her fragrance before her. Her every single step into my place was diffusing a scent of pride and sweetness, tenderness and arrogance, warmth and chill. While she was passing me, her perfume stroked my breath and dazzled my senses. 

While I was walking her to the reception, I wish she didn't but, she untied her hair, disturbing the air, overwhelming the atmosphere with that puzzling mixture of the outdoors' rainy air, her scent and her fragrance. It made me drunk and thirsty for more... It confused my common sense and allured me to submissiveness. 

It reminded me of those old glorious days, when I used to enjoy that scent while running my nose on her arms, through her shoulders and up to her neck. 

The whole thing kept me hypnotized for a while, that wish, that sweet dream never lasted...


Andy.

The Gift

I wish I could undo the pain… Undress you of the rugs of a cruel past and dress you up in the finest new garments of a content present, wearing in your hair a flower of hope. I wish I could unlock the door of your essence, and tread the road to your soul, to unleash the shells from your eyes, and unburden your heart from the mounted up tears of all the past years.

Your heart has been beating forever, beating lifeless. If only you would offer me the chance, if you would abandon your heart in my hands, I would have undamaged it and unbroken every edge of it. I would have wrapped your heart in silk and gold, breathed life into it and given it back to you.

But you unwanted my hands, since you ignored what I have for you, and un-embraced the empathy I wished to offer. You abandoned my offerings to your longings, to people and things that offered you nothing but a false temporary delight.

I unsought everything, wanting nothing but your joy. But, you always looked at me with accusations, expected me to dig for rewards. I hope you curb your pride and receive my gift. For the ultimate repayment of a true giver, is just accepting the gift.



Andy.

Many Thanks to Michael Nessim for quote design.

Experience Of Being Alive

Each and every one of us used to be once like a fresh white sheet of paper, a tender piece of clay. Walking through the paths of life, the world scratches words and draws figures and diagrams on the clear white sheet of paper; since then it’s fresh no more. Different experiences shape the tender piece of clay, and may harden it if possible.

At any stage of life, we may tell ourselves "this is who/ what I am"; the biggest lie we convince ourselves with. We don't admit that we are the result of accumulated experiences; which we were indulged into by different people who influenced our thoughts, behaviors, preferences; as well as situations which collectively created our understanding and our so called “Common Sense”.

What most of us usually do, is that they submit to who they are now, and think that it’s the case until forever. They just look at their toes and keep complaining. Paying no interest in developing their souls, feeling helpless blaming the situations and even cursing their incompetency. Yet, they will be forced to change sooner or later, or they will be broken. I consider such being as alive but not living…  Only the dead can do nothing to be renewed. For being alive is about continuous renewal and rejuvenation of the mind, body and soul. Renew the mind by new dimensions of knowledge and understanding; especially about yourself. Reinvent the body by exercising and adopting healthy dietary habits. Love your body as it is. Nourish the soul via the linkage to the divine and manifest that linkage in people and creation. Life surely includes trials and errors, falls and stands victories and defeats, committing rights and wrongs… It is about moving forward with a new lesson or new joy out of each experience.

Never submit to who you are now... For you are not done yet with creating yourself. There is much to come and more to be…

We have been educated and tamed according to certain cultures, beliefs, values, public/ social acceptance etc... We were educated what to fear, what to like and dislike, what to appreciate and what to despise. We conform to peer pressures and to what's accepted and valued publicly and socially, though we come with the mottoes about freedom and self-sufficiency. What a paradox we are living and accepting!!! We want to be what we want to be, and we want to be what's acceptable and valued in the eyes of a blindly lead society. We seek our esteem supply from VICTIMS, who were previously tamed by preceding generation of society. So, we are their victims as well.  We become more and more victims of victims. And then, we claim self-sufficiency and independence from a sick minded society.

Through the daily experience and friction with life and society, we build our own vocabulary of accepted attitudes and behaviors. We always look for happiness, satisfaction, love and acceptance but on the outside; in people, things, situations, etc... But we don't look inside; maybe we don't have the map to our inside anyways. We fear to go inside us and discover that dark closet. Full of spider webs and deserted since ever, we find it easier to seek it all outside the dark closet, without confronting ourselves with what we don’t like about us. We are not humble to stand discovering and knowing our weaknesses but, we are arrogant enough to spot others’. Thus, we don't know our competences either. Hence, we know nothing about us. Instead of exploring and knowing who we really are and what are we capable of, we look somewhere else. Actually, we look everywhere but inside. We seek whatever that we claim deficiency, and we are never full though.

We are all seeking an experience of being alive, assuming this in togetherness with people, in status and self-actualization, in possessions and belongings,…  And it’s never enough and satisfaction is illusionary.

Experience of being alive, of being happy, of being satisfied, shall start from within. Such experience fuels your eagerness to renew and rejuvenate your mind, body and soul, from what has been the finger prints of the world to be the original and unique shared product of divine, and self, creation. Only then you are a new you, the best version of you.
Start with YOU,… Start NOW!

Andy.