Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘love’ Category

Don’t Touch!

Kids don’t wear masques. No complex reactions. You see pure emotions, there. As it is.

(His trembling lovely voice)

In time, we learn to “put up with” our “weakness”es. What you see is anger, what’s present there is heartbreak and frustration. Especially for men.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

What lies in the eyes…

Her: Draw a picture of me
Him: Why?
Her: I want to see what you see

Read Full Post »

Cracks

I don’t know other languages or cultures, in Turkish, the analogy for heart in some cases is a glass vase. To depict once it’s broken/smashed, almost impossible to mend, never to be restored the former shape.

Indeed it’s never the same, is it? One feels holes, cracks inside, never fills again. You acknowledge them inside and learn to live with them.

Heart

Heart

 

Read Full Post »

New Post

Hug.

This is all I’m going to say for now.

Read Full Post »

I believe the best photos are taken spontaneously. Because it shoots us without the guards, masks we use when we pose. It captures the real person.

The best, the most beautiful moments, looks of us can only be seen by the beloved ones, and photographed with the urge to make them immortal.

Thus if you don’t have good photos, probably you have never been really loved.

Read Full Post »

The Poet

A man used to write poems for the woman he loved.
One day … all of a sudden the woman abandoned him.

He kept writing…
He wrote more.. and more….
And one day he became a famous poet.

Years later, he went back to his home-town to read his poems on a big poetry night.
At the end of the performance, the woman for the love of whom all the poems were written, came along with her husband next to her
…. and said “Hello”

The man looked at her, as if he was looking at an ordinary person.
“Haven’t you recognized me?” she asked.
“No I haven’t” he replied..
“How come!?
I’m the woman for whom you have written poems;
I’m the woman who turned you into a poet…”

The man looked in the eyes of the woman and said:

“If the magic was all about you, the man standing next to you should have been a poet too.”.

Read Full Post »

I admire writers and poets. They describe the tiny, hidden connections between things. Unfortunately I don’t have the talent.

I was thinking of Einstein’s famous saying “There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle.”. Or in the same vein “Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder”. I mean it’s how you see it. Just think how a physicist sees/describes the sun and how a poet does. Accordingly the notorious love can be defined an obsession, a mental sickness, an anomaly a malfunction of hormones.

I was thinking about these last week. Couldn’t put them into words. Until reading something about the singer Amy Winehouse. I barely knew her, except listening to a few of her songs and having read the headlines saying she was eccentric and was an alcoholic. I was surprised when I heard some time ago something like she lied on the kitchen floor because of the pain of love. At the time this gave me a hunch that she could not be the ordinary spoilt celebrity stereotype.

Something I read today struck me;

“…They believe the singer’s decision to lay off alcohol completely for three weeks was a lethal “shock” for her tiny body. Family sources say she died after ignoring her doctor’s advice to cut down on her heavy drinking gradually.
….
…doctors had told Amy to gradually reduce her intake of alcohol and to avoid bingeing at all costs. Amy told him she couldn’t do that. It was all or nothing and she gave up completely.”

Can you see the relevance? Have you felt close to Amy too?

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »