Lost in Crazy..

21-12-2013 I don't think I could ever forgive you, for all the things I have given.  I gave you MY HEART the only thing I HAD, my everything.  AND YOU! YOU let it die... You never loved me ..  You loved having someone there for you .. I want it to be over .. I want  to STOP .. stop loving you .. stop wanting you .. stop dreaming about you .. I just hate how all the passion and the love are gone, I used to feel it ... so overwhelming .. so genuine .. now it is nothing .. NOTHING .. All I could feel is my heart breaking over what I have lost .. what we have lost .. 27-12-2014 I have grown so much. Too much, arguably.  Looking back at where I was a year ago and where I am now, it is just fascinatingly overwhelming.  We know time heals all wounds. We have seen it everywhere,  maybe experienced it on different levels,  but this. Where I was a year ago was a different thing. Was -possibly- gr...

For the past week that I've had friend's fish to take care of,  I'd be lying if I said I didn't wish I was a fish countless times. It seemed too damn easy. Living commitment-free, I guess. But then I started noticing that whenever I hold something "green" near his bowl it comes near it excitingly, because his food container is green. I don't know much about cognitive functioning in fish, but I know it is pretty simple given that fish are evolutionary most primitive among vertebrates. However,  the fish is displaying "classical conditioning" so it does have "some" level of complex cognitive circuiting. This, and many other behaviors I have been observing,  is no scientific solid proof of any fish consciousness, but it is an indicator that something is there. And then I started trying to view things through his perspective,  a fish's perspective. Now this, at first,  sounds easy but as you actually try it, really is a mind-fucke...

It is shockingly amusing how we are -in majority- the most pretentious show-offy braggy society and yet we are so scared of being envied for it. If you believe that you have something that others might want and envy you for, and you believe that that could affect you and hurt you, then please stop showing it off, live moderately and stop obsessing that you and what you have consumes so much emotions and importance from other people. Or might as well stop living or practicing anything or being anyone, because, you know, people would envy you and that would totally ruin your life. Don't get me wrong I do know that "العين حق" and I do understand the religious dimension of it, but what annoys me is how people live on without understanding the practical realistic -or you could say the scientific- dimension of it. I have done a  lot of thinking about this and I do believe in it in the sense that we are created of much more than what we could sense with our five senses....

The words escape me. There is nothing left now but fractions of segmented memories of moments, of hours, of days... Of your scent, of your face, of your hands ..  tightly holding mine, softly caressing my face, safely wrapped around me. Of your eyes. Oh your bright bright eyes.   I have never. I will never, see the worlds I have seen through them again. I have loved them all.  Of your kisses . Warm.. fast, slow,  warm.. enthralling..  sweet, bitter, strong, deep. light...  Heavy with your breathing. I wonder what are your memories. .. I wonder how was it like for you, I wonder why it was not enough . I think I have lost myself somewhere, 'some-when' I took in every bit of you, every taste of you, every scent of you, every touch of you  all at once. Passion.. I remember .. your butterflies burning in my stomach, taught me what it meant. Maybe ...

Observation bias fools us into assuming that our individual lives mark the end and the beginning. Our births, our deaths and what's in between is what makes a life that ends when it ends. And that is why we render ourselves mortal. But "life" is not those individual lives. Life is the encompassing of all that breathes, All that changes, All that grows, All that develops, We humans are only one component. Just like the death of a cell in a body doesn't mean death for the body, our deaths do not end life. This life we live is immortal, by all means. We just change forms. Our true immortality, just like anything else, is only a change in perspective.

If you love, you gotta break your heart, and break it bad, or else it won't be worth the love. That wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. At all.     The way I think of it requires using a different term to refer to a "broken heart" than a broken heart. What I think happens is not the breaking of a heart, more like exposing it to vulnerability, by putting it in such an uncomfortable environment. What happens to the heart -feeling wise- is similar to what you would experience if you peeled of the skin of a limb. You feel everything. Everything intensified magnified and extremely painful until that skin grows back again.      Why a broken heart isn't necessarily bad is because it is the only incedience that would allow you to experience absolutely everything. To completely feel, feel with every single cell and feel every atom that is in there to be felt. If your metaphorical heart, resides where your literal heart is that would mea...

A Million Little Pieces - James Frey

So I have been really thinking about Absolutes  since the last time we spoke, and what I came to peace with not sure is something you would like.      You really can't think of anything as absolute basically because there are different situations, different faces, different angles to view something -anything- from. There is also the fact that nothing is ever constant so even the absolute state of an object/ system/ entity would change over time. I have been really puzzled by absolutes ever since I was in 5th grade studying absolute values. Something about it didn't feel quite right. I could apply it methmatical,  solve hundreds of problems, I just couldn't understand the concept of isolating an entity, turning into a defined framed digit.  It was too abstract, too unrealistic,  and too intangible it got me really uncomfortable.      You made the statement that "True Love" is absolute, and you really made me question my ide...

What's a Year ?      A year is a periodic time frame implaced by us mortal beings to keep track of whatever little time we spend on this earth. What trivial accomplishments we achieve. How much change we go through.  In a way it is nothing but a tool for assessment  we use to judge our lives.       For me it seems that the moments in a single year are too many and too intense they cut deep in me. Maybe that is the price of being young and fragile, life molds you with every moment. Maybe the more years that passes the less of a toll it takes on us. MAYBE I am young and life is rolling. Or maybe it is just me rolling on life. A Year is what it took to break us apart.  It seemed too tangible,  Too real, Too genuine,  Too strong and unfathomable,  to ever   easily break.  I assume it was optimism bias, which led me to believe in your heart strings to remain wrapped around mine.   ...

A pit in my insides, like a phantom limb pain. But for my phantom heart. This is how it feels to Miss You .

Your limerence fed on my insides,  love reeked from my skin. We enjoyed drowning in it,  breaking each others brittle bones, cutting through our necrotized meat. Until we started chocking on our oceans of empty promises, and there were no more bones to break, no flesh left to shed. And now I never go swimming without a safety vest, fastened strongly and anchored to shore with my paranoia and aquaphobia. It is cold in here, getting wet without really being in the water, but it is better than clinging to you while we're both drowning in a storm. Sucking your blood for breath, and bleeding for you.

I was just looking at this and thinking how could captivating beauty like this exists in a world where a species is willing to wipe off the life of its own for a cause that lived out its time. I understand dedication and commitment. I could understand being too blinded by a holy sacred mission. I really do, but it lived out its people, Nothing absolutely no funking thing, no God no religion no bigger purpose would justify or accept the amount of blood, the pain, and the suffering that has been going on for far too long. It is all about affirming superiority,  no more no less. And that's disgusting. We are hardly human anymore,   for we have clearly lost every ounce of our humanity. 

So this morning I am going to be so happy acknowledging the true bless of having this intimately beautiful life lasting friendships, that goes on for yeeeeaaaars~ ~ The people who know you well enough, its fair for them to judge you even though they never do. The people who remember your memories as if they were theirs. The people who know you down to your taste buds, that even if you walked in into a new restaurant they would know before hand what you'd order. The people that force you to send a morning selfie in the days they don't see you in. The people that you are in such a harmony with you never needed to fight with, lie to, nor disappoint. The people you would never doubt nor fear you'd ever lose. The people that know the true meaning behind every choice of words you make. The people that you would sing crazy songs, mediate in the woods, dance under the rain with. Oh how lucky we are for having those people.

I choose to believe that the human psyche is one of the most dynamic systems out there. We grow we develop we change, but to what direction/s? And with what forces to govern that flow? In dynamic systems the flow is reversible -based on environmental catalysts and what not- and regression -in Freudian terms- is occasionally reported in cases of extreme stress, which makes the assumption of a backward flow a possibility. So what if something you got over Something you built and nurtured in you Something you have grown to be got reversed? And BOOM! You go back to the  starting point of building who you are .. Acknowledging the mere possibility of it is scary. And the internal forces that shuffles that psyche of ours is even scarier, and maybe completely obscure to us and that's the scariest part.

There is something in the beauty of well-written words that makes it all about you. You deserve to hear them, and I need to read them for you. You need to hear them, and I deserve to read them for you. Oh Baby,

 How hard it is to swear off things, and how easy it is to fall right back into them.

Will forever remain the node that unwineds me.

I accept aging. I accept growing old. I accept that time takes away youth, strength capabilities. But I also know that it gives so much back in return. I acknowledge the notion that life passes by so quickly and before I know it all the milestones I looked forward to, I worked hard for are behind me. And it is fine, it is beautiful in its own way. But what I don't get is why a few refuse to accapt it. Why to them it feels like they are being dethroned from life. You cannot be a 50 something woman acting like teenagers. You cannot pretend and lie to yourself that you are still as young as ever. You cannot conceive children after menopause,  and that does not make you less of a woman. You cannot pretend that you don't have to check with a doctor and admit that you have age-related health issues. It is fine it does not make you a handicap. You cannot be jealous of twenty years old girls, copying everything they do because that is just offending to your age. To your ...

You lied to yourself. You lie to yourself, every second of every day. Drowning yourself in your busy days... You lie. There is not a day where the thought of her does not brush the lobes of your brain. There is not a place where the memory of her presence does not hunt your peace. There is not a moment of joy without the image of her smile blurring your vision.  There is not a breath you take without the ghost of her smell picking on you. You lied when you said that you can live a life without her. How will you ever balance the unbalance caused by her absence?  How will you ever find happiness in something other than  the sound of her laughter? How will you ever be you again?   You are sorry you turned off your heart to your sun, but sorry is far due now.  It is okay, Life goes on, You are strong,  you are capable. You are making the best of it, all brilliant and splendid you.  But you know you will never fe...

You can't kiss a girl like that and expect her to forget. You can't look in her eyes for that long then pray for the day you stop missing her.

What's really traumatizing is that I never imagined I loved you this much .

Honey, people only write about their sadness. They live out their joy.

The Grass Was Greener. You are selfish , and I am burning with my caffeine blood and whoremones. The Light Was Brighter. You are gone , and I am torn by dead memories and nostalgic ghosts. The Taste Was Sweeter. You are love , and I deserve better . http://soundcloud.com/nsalekseev/pink-floyd-high-hopes

I thought it was the love that persists. Lingers. Never fades nor diminishes. Fuck you, for all the ruins. Fuck me, For all the history.

I have always wondered how applicable it is to word your GRIEF? How is it possible to transmit such an intense deep emotional experience in a vocalised concrete manner. How can I tell you, How can I tell him, How can I tell me how I feel?         In those times where I feel my heart wrapped up in my losses, when I choke on the air I breathe, when a smile punctures holes in my soul; I feel so deviated from this vessel suffocating me.      I look at life, beauty, richness, happiness and all I could see is the inevitable death, ugliness, loss, and , misery.  I choke.     I can see life clearly, naked, stripped, and horrifyingly obscene.  How could any beauty exist after so much ugliness.  What amplutide of joy is needed to antagonise all the gloom, for something genuinely good to be felt again. Are we lost beyond redemption? Am I lost without redemption? I bleed.      The los...

     I kissed him, trying to bring him back. I kissed him and let my lips rest against his so that our breath mingled and the tears from my eyes became salt on his skin, and I told myself that, somewhere, tiny particles of him would become tiny particles of me, ingested, swallowed, alive, perpetual. I wanted to press every bit of me against him. I wanted to will something into him. I wanted to give him every bit of life I felt and force him to live.     I realized I was afraid of living without him. How is it you have the right to destroy my life, I wanted to demand of him, but I am not allowed a say in yours?     So I held him, him ex-lover, ex-universe, life, passion, happiness. I held him close and said nothing, all while telling him silently that he was loved. Oh, but he was loved.

Because it will always end with a curl up in bed, a good\bad cry, and demonic headache on the following sunrise.

I am a liar. I am the world's biggest liar. I say I live my life without regrets. Regret-less? The horrifying truth is that, I regret it all. I regret every moment I lived, for the aching of its memories. I regret every moment I did not live, for never knowing its memories. It is a never ending dilemma for what I desire. It is a never ending struggle for what I want. So, I lie.

    To be frank I have always thought of writing A STORY of those I lived, but never really thought I would be doing it to inspire someone. In other words -up until recently- I never really paused and took pride in everything I have experienced so far. From where I see "what I have lived of my life" is that life is tough. Life is really tough. We need to work so hard and lose so bad to gain something. When I was 8 my father killed my mum.     That was my biggest struggle. The one thing that broke every ounce of my soul for me to build it up bit by bit afterwards. It was horrible. It was too sad. It was too damn lonely. But I out lived that. I grew up I accomplished so much so very much! I lived, I loved, I learned and found "some peace". I spread happiness everywhere I go. And I give from my heart. Praying for the thought that one day I would be able to help the broken ones who weren't as lucky as I am. The ones who weren't strong enough to pull through o...

They will go back to the living, once the absence of your nothing doesn't kill'em no more.

Somebody needed to tell her, that the thing she's still wearing should be thrown away in that bottom-drawer box. Along with all the rotten memories' flowers And the empty-worded letters.

It isn't the loneliness.. It isn't the pain.. It isn't the memories.. It isn't the dreams.. It isn't the disappointments.. It isn't what we were.. It isn't what we could have been.. It isn't you.. It isn't me.. It is the little things.. -The goofy, neat, gay, tilted handwriting you inked your letters with. -The soft fluffy hairs on your hands. -The gleam that shone in your eyes when you looked at me. -The pauses you took to taste my breath before you kiss me. -The way you used to say bye.. kiss on the forehead.. kiss on the right cheek.. Left cheek.. And then nose.. -The way you know exactly how to explain something for me to get it. -The original flavor Pringles. -The bottle of cold water and packet of my favorite gum every morning. -The way you lose yourself in me. -The always keeping the last tissue for me. -The not hugging me when I cry despite your heartache for it, because you know how pathetic it would make me feel. -The s...

How am I supposed to contain you, when even on the good days I could barely contain myself.

    I know we are far gone. And that I am threw attempting to fix us. But if there's anyone whose worth hearing this it is you.. Happy Valentine's.     We both know I am not into those clichés but I might not get a better occasion to thank you for everything.     I am really so very grateful for you. It wasn't always frustration and disappointments. It was so very beautiful. It was love. It was life. It was everything. And I loved you.. Oh God how much I have loved you...     You gave every breath, every thought, every single heartbeat a meaning. I don't know where I would have been without you. You made me who I am. All my successes past and coming, I owe to you. You weren't just a boyfriend. You were my father, mother, home, family, happiness, and passion.     You made me feel everything.. Absolutely everything. And that's one thing you could never imagine how much I love you for. I thought I am ugly. ...

It is funny how you feel weak when someone points out your strength. Strength is exaggerated. . Strength is overrated. . Strength is coincidental. . Strength is accidental. . No one chooses to be strong out of virtue. Strength was never a choice. . Strength is what's forced upon you when there's no other route to take.. Strength is the lie of the cowardly to mask up their weakness. .

Enough baby.. enough. . Enough love.. what you are doing is wrong honey enough... You cannot play with people's emotions. . You cannot thrive on people's trust and misconceptions.. You cannot have one foot in one foot out only so you don't get hurt at the end.. You cannot have half a heart in and half a heart somewhere else only so you don't feel lonely... You cannot want one because of what he meant... because of what he gave.. because of what you were.. You cannot keep him around for the hope that maybe someday. . somehow he will go back to what he used to be.. that it would go back to the way it was... because darling that won't happen, what's done is done.. wounds bled out.. scars formed.. and they are here to stay and he is never going back to the man you once loved.. You cannot want one because he is wrong for you in every possible way.. because being with him would be challenging everything about who you are.. because he is everything you've n...

I want the love that changes me, challenges me, turns me into a better person. The love that frees me from all humanly confusion. The love that opens my eyes to all life's secrets and wonders. Not the love that drags me down a spiral of never ending self-doubt, anger and disamy. Not the love that brings me to my knees to search for the shattered pieces of what used to be instead of building what will be. Not the love that wipes off what's left of finite beauty.