A Message from within

Will they combine together? Bring the 2 homes together. I wait for the time when we can start. We. I had already started :)

And I kept changing the top and Jackets. From brown safari jacket with big belt. To B&W checked long Jacket. Short brown jacket. I kept changing and changing. I do not feel comfortable. I want to dress elegant but at the same time I can not tolerate any layers. I felt suffocating. Maybe because it was so humid outside. Maybe because the house seemed so confusing. Scattered things here and there. Maybe. I do not really know. I took all off. Wore a stripped blouse. No ear rings. No perfume. No makeup. No bag. Money and credit card in my pocket. I just put on the blouse, pants, comfortable shoes and rushed outside. Sometimes I rebel aganist dress code. I hate this concept. To tell me what to wear. TO force me to wear certain style. Why not leave it up to me to dress how I like and feel comfortable. If meeting client, I sure know what to wear but if working in the office that day, why not let me dress the way I feel. Too many restrictions annoy me. So I discover. 'I am not cut to w

Yesterday WAS a dream. No. No. No. It was not a dream. It is our reality. US .

I have conquered a man least conqureable. But I also know the limits of my power, and I know what it takes to answer the demands of him. He has loved me; I am his love. I have had all I could have of him, the most secret layers of his being, such words, such feelings, such looks, such caressess... I have felt him exultant in my love, passionate, possessive, jealous. I have grown on him, not bodily, but like a vision. What does he remember so vividly of our moments together? That afternoon. That afternoon when he was taken by the sense of living in a fairy tale, with a veil between himself and me. Me the very real. The very Me. And the very him. I crave for him. Only him. I want to live with him, be free with him, suffer with him. Phrases from his letter haunt me. Yet I have doubts about our love. I fear my impetuosity. I follow him with my soul, I enter into his feelings as he wanders through his wide streets, I partake of his breathing, his desires. I think his thoughts Everything in

And my Alex was intended to be a 'megalopolis'. Created in the shape of what is called a chlamys , a macedonian military cloak, with walls that would strech endlessly into the distance, streets wider than any yet seen. An ideal city. Laid in such a way as to benefit from sea breezes yet providing shelter from the wind. Aristotle will call my alex so. A library. A lighthouse. When the originial founder, Alexandre, died his generals quarrelled on who to lead it. As if Alexandria refused to be led by anyone but the original leader, my alex split. But it was for its learning and teaching that my alex was chiefly known. The library was built there, dedicated to the muses. From the start, the plan for my alex was not like any other. Bigger than elsewhere. Authentic. Different. Original. Created with a purpose. And it got tired. From the greed and selfishness spreading everywhere. The endless fights to obtain it and control it. Naively or kindly or even dignified as my alex had st

It was supposed to be the 'us' only. Because we both know how uncomfortable we are together, how the vacation can end up 'ugly', N. and K, A. and M. were secretly invited to join us here. Amazing. They all went downstairs for breakfast, and I stayed here. In bed. Ordered breakfast in the room. Still in my PJ, having breakfast. Sipping coffee while looking at the huge fenetre overlooking the beautiful serpentine alleys all around me. Adding to the feeling of an endless passage of life. Then, rushing like crazy maniacs to shopping in a mall 1 hour away from here. What if I do not want to? And I dont want to. Instead of spending time in the beautiful weather, slacking in the street, reading and drinking coffee, watching people, they want to imprison me inside printemps and lafayette. Why? I wont do it. And without fighting, I left a note that I am going to cafe paul. To meet me there at 5 pm. And I sneaked out. Took a bus and walked the rest. Sitting in the cool weather wa

Hard to not remember you when here. Very hard. Not for anything but that you would probably like it. Probably. Although it became very hard for me to visualize how you would react now to these things if you had a chance to see it. Probably silent. But anyways.... Who am I to judge. All I could do, after days of hesitation, was to send a belated greeting. In respect to the memory of the many conversations and dusted dreams that were torn away and thrown in the little neat garbage that carried similar papers, 'things i like to do' list written on a yellow paper lined with red; calendar paper carrying a smily face... and much more. All deemed trivial when a choice was to be made. I watched them selling fresh fruits. Tomatoes. Herbs. Walking. Sailing. Enjoying and more importantly living in the the endless simple natural scenes that became part of their lives. Engraved in its nature. Infused in their attitude of love to beauty and simplicity. Allowing the 'Lovers walks' to

- ...how it is to 'try' to care and show love and support, a duty... and when it comes natural. Very different. Pretend to listen and show interest, when you just do it to keep a conversation and break the always uncomfortable silence, that for sure unleash the self-consciousness and checking. Very apparent. Even in the most beautiful places that you love. - ...how it is to be able to hug someone to sleep and wake-up in still in each other's hug, and how it feels when it is a duty. It does take a real lovers to do it. To be totally at ease. Totally comfortable. Totally wanting to stay there. Even when feeling uncomfortable, you would want to endure the pain and wait silently, while looking to the beautiful sleeping face, until they naturally change positions. And when they ask you if you are in pain, you deny and smile. And continue the hug. - ...how it is to find someone who really loves you and understands you. Interested in you..... and when you or him is just another f