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Wednesday, April 17, 2013


Here we go... This is the beginning, the most valuable and vulnerable part of a project, of life itself.
Rookies' Heaven and creators' Hell, the soft spot for the nightmare of writer's block to creep in.
My first actual post.

Whether it's a fresh start or a restart, one should begin with fundamentals and look at the big picture, in order to build a solid base.
When it comes to a personal journey (which this blog actually is), what could be more fundamental than the very self, the way one sees their self, co-exists and interacts with it.



This is an older piece of work, from back when I was still at war with my self. I would attack and there would always be a counterattack, in a seemingly never ending battle. There were also times of peace - brief ones, though. Still, it was better than the phase before that, when I was only battering my self, like a monster attacking a helpless child that, unable to defend itself, was just taking the blows.
Currently, me, my self and I, after changes, setbacks and some skin shedding, have reached the phase of diplomacy and negotiations. (One -extremely- small step for mankind, one giant leap for me).

                                                         ..........................

(I just read the last paragraph I wrote... It makes me seem totally bipolar, doesn't it? ...Nah, I'll just ignore that and let the paragraph be as it is. Feel free to think whatever you like!)

                                                        ...........................

Just my self reflection

Mirror mirror on the wall,
who's the greatest one of foes?

Who is the one I most resent,
yet loving them I am condemned

I ask again, although I know
that silence will still linger
like the scent of a stranger I once knew
because no answer lies in words
It's just my self reflection




                                                                   .............................

These few lines go hand in hand with another short monologue-like poem, naturally, like siblings.
Naturally, as self-hatred and doubt bring along their best friends to the party, depression and apathy.
And they keep drugging you, to the point where simple feelings, joys and tears of everyday life, can't be felt, sun rays can no longer reach you and you prefer getting lost in sleep's oblivion.
To live only by night, seeking to sense and feel alive, overtaken only by rushes and violent desires, or endlessly contemplating your emptiness in seclusion. 


                                                  

Nocturne Path

Give me a hug, or give me a gun,

trigger my emotions or my hand

scar my soul and make it bleed

show me your intention's deep

or don't bother, let me hanging

gazing my imaginary friend in outer space.

It will be forever and a day

before my fate takes its rightful place.

























Thursday, April 11, 2013

Intro









Many people claim that "actions speak louder than words".

It is one of those sayings that look good when printed on T-shirts and cups and go viral online over elaborately sophisticated backgrounds.
People go easily with the flow of such words, either because their imprinted image creates a powerful stimulation for their thought (ironically emphasizing the actual power of mere words against actions), or due to painful personal experiences involving people that were all talk - usually lies- that were never proven by actions - usually leading to heartbreaking situations, or plain disappointment. 

But doesn't that just prove that there actually isn't a matter of supremacy between actions and words?

There is a matter of honesty.
Of each and everyone of us whenever we extend the practical result of our efforts to another, or eloquently declare statements, opinions and (most of all) emotions.
In other words, it's about the truth behind our motives whenever we move our butts to do something for someone else, or we start blurting out whatever goes through our lovely head.
It is a matter of how honest the reflections of ourselves that we project to others are. And therefore, before anything else, how sincere we are towards our very self to begin with.





I always loved words. Verbally spoken, sung, well-written or just scribbled (although I tend to feel more comfortable to "let go" while writing). 
Much like the findings of archaeologists, anthropologists and historians, words, the use of speech, can describe human evolution both mentally and emotionally.
From primal sounds made for basic needs and notions, we moved forward to creating writing, entire vocabularies, different languages, art.
But what fascinates me the most, is the energy and power every word possesses, emitting a certain aura along with its meaning, that sentiment that is there, regardless of language. A result of collective unconscious, mind, soul and expression, creating context and small planets with unique orbits.



I always loved words. I can't really say when projecting my thoughts and emotions through them, in the certain yet elusive form and meaning of poems, became a need and eventually a solid expression.
I've been raised in a family where personal expression, curiosity and art were vigorously promoted in our everyday life, so it was easy to become a bookworm, "musicholic", meddle with pencils and colours or scribble away - which doesn't really qualify me as "talented" in any artistic field specifically. Yet, I decided to ignore labels, objective abilities, the sole purpose of distinguishing one's self, and "talent-complex" free, I let my self indulge in the spur of the moment and the need to create. Throughout my early adult years I was led by a whim, or passively followed paths that were presented to me, both in my life in general and my "artistic hobbies".
It was a haze, a road trip and as vague as I wanted it to be.



But this is different. My lyrics. The will and need to materialize them was so sudden, abrupt, natural yet unexpected, like an epiphany. There was a part inside me left unexplored that boldly unveiled itself and demanded of me to face it and acknowledge it.
Or else remain undeveloped and enveloped in regret. The eternally torturing "What if...?" of the half-hearted.

On a second glance, I understand that this need and inclination only came to me when I subconsciously realized that I was suffocating my self; persistently silencing emotions and desires in order to live as "normal" and "properly" as I should, while surrounded by fears, insecurity and self-doubt.
I suppose, by realizing and accepting that situation, I took the first small step towards maturity.
Which is exactly why I decided to make this blog(?) and share my thoughts and writings, in order to fight and banish these negative aspects of me, to liberate my inner self, but most of all to reach other people that feel the same way. Either because they keep repressing themselves due to everyday life's circumstances and personal insecurities, or because they can relate to what I write.



And of course, there is always the embarrassing secret hope that some people will like my lyrics. And the desire to inspire other people too, people that perhaps are scared, timid and insecure as I used to be, to put out their own self, work, effort, thoughts and creations for (potentially) everyone to see.


Godspeed!