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She wears brown clothes Her hair is long and grey Her room is filled with smoke and she is sitting right in front of the fire She has a pipe that she might be smoking She talks slowly and uses her fingers to express herself clearer She doesn't need to look at you to see you Her vision is clearer than a young mind's She whispers, with her eyes closed She draws your family in the smoke, cures you from your illness with her herbs She doesn't need your money, because she has no use of that She doesn't want to leave her cave because her mountains with the snow tops and her rivers give her health, vision and tranquility You have found out about her from your own blood running through your veins She speaks to you in your dreams You hear her voice when someone is sick She speaks through you You can't find her, but she always finds you She sings, but you cannot She smokes but you do not She is very old and wise and you are young and eager to learn She moves slowly
Recent posts

River

The river taught me to how swim. As a child we would go there in evenings on hot summer days and soap up our bodies to then rinse them off in the water. It used to scare me a little. I would insist on wearing shoes while swimming, yet I would always loose one of them and get frustrated. See, I never wanted to feel what is on the bottom of the river. I was worried about the small things, creepy, moving, spikey things. My love for the water was complicated and confusing. I absolutely loved it and always needed to be in it, swimming. I was also absolutely terrified about what I could possibly find in it, step on or drown. I always felt that there is something else out there that can take me. At anytime. That is why I would always bring the extra unnecessary things: Shoes, swimfeet, goggles, floaties, you name it. I never wanted to swim somewhere alone, yet if I had to, I did it. There is this moment when you are completely terrified and totally alone, you have the option of quitting or k
My language has the sweetest sounds, no other language has. It tastes like your favourite stew on your tongue, only my people can cook. My motherland has a hard outside and a soft inside, just like the shell of a nut, only a nutcracker can break. My hometown is the city of blacksmiths, close to the Altai mountains, home to the shamans and the unknown terrains. Where 4 countries meet and have a dialogue. My people are nomads, farmers, survivors, taught not to smile, but to overcome. My people can not be judged by the corrupt dictators running our beautiful land, but by the beauty we treasure and hide from the outside. My land has catlike-like creators, giant predators - who move gracefully through the tundra. Studying cultures for decades made me appreciate my own, now more than ever. I am here thanks to the people who came before me. The men on tall horses in the savanna have cleared the way for me.
You are a mystery to me.  Yet so familiar.  You have guided me to so many far away places but I still have not met you face to face.  You wear many colors, dance in circles, reside in the lagoons and salty waters.  I imagine you being surrounded by many pythons, which give me a certain glow only a few people can see.  Your force pulls me to the ocean, rarely understood by others. Your waves hit me hard and sweep me deep under the water. I feel playful, cared for, brave and peaceful. I am curious  whereas to why you have chosen me, yet it makes so much sense. I saw your power as a very young girl and fell in love with it from the very first sight. You showed me where you are from and I kept a bracelet that makes me think of you. At times I thought that it was all in my mind, but now I know that my mind is a reflection of you. My actions are your whispers in my ear. You are walking with me side to side to keep me safe, to keep me on track, to make me remember the sw
You struck me like lightening with your eyes and enchanted with your walk. After so many years of crying, I am still afraid to let you know. After eight years of searching for someone who had your eyes, hair and soul, I am left empty handed. I tried so hard to fill your spot in my heart with something that could be at least half as good as you. But as you stand next to me after so many years I am still afraid to let you know my true feelings. I am scared to tell you what I felt that hot October day. I am afraid to give myself away to you without anything in return. I fear that you will throw away my heart, just like you did one time before. You said you weren't ready then, but now that you are I am afraid to give myself to you. I am afraid to show love and be caring, I would rather be cold and protect myself from pain.
They fight for love But spread jealousy They want freedom By trapping you in a cage They want to be respected But they have no compassion They want to become a part of you But they don't know who you are They want to walk with you But they lead you in the wrong direction They want to share your meal But they put poison inside of it They want to learn from you By giving you advice They bring you down To bring themselves up They jump on you Of fear Of justice Hope Love And Truth They wish they knew how you can feel so free and at the same time so loving They hate you because they can't be who you are
I don't know why I have not written anything for a very long time. And I don't know why I suddenly decided to start. I guess because my job is so demanding that I have to take a brake and look outside the window and see how the silent city is turning into a vibrant, explosive and noisy animal. My view is so peaceful. Sky scrapes swimming in the blue light, a weird guy building a pigeon house and party people roaming the streets. I used to get upset when I would see people gathering together on the weekends and going out to the bars. I wasn't jealous, I just wanted to stop them and tell them how spoiled they are. They were so lucky, but they had no clue about it. I couldn't understand why they wanted to spend so much money when so many people were dreaming about a real shower. But I see them now and I want yo join them. I want to join them, because I want to run away from my reality. My reality has a clean shower. Not always warm, but certainly clean and regular. My real
The moment you make that connection you get involved in my life and your actions lead to consequences. Think twice before you take that step.
Last year I was at the same point where I am now. And I as I listen to the same words, I cry because the meaning is so different now. It hurts me because you don't feel the same and that you are who you are and I don't wanna change you. We see holyness in different things and I hate watching it scatter. I sacrificed something, without you even knowing it, this time you gotta figure it out on your own.

Candles

my comport in the dark.

Ontology

Now I understand. Now I don't have to force you. I will not wonder. It actually makes sense. I am sorry, I just found out. Sorry, if I stressed you out. I know better now.

The Past

The Past, My Past Your Past Our past Too much happened and too much didn’t It will be with me forever You will be my past forever

LOVE IT!

Just thinking about why pictures make such a difference. Is it because we can visualize better what we are writing about? For me, I guess it is because pictures catch those special moments and make it solid. We cannot grab feelings, but we can grab a picture. We cannot share or recreate a feeling, but we can show a picture telling how we felt. I escape to Starbucks once in a while. Recently it has been my place to catch my breath and find a spot to relax. A lot of decisions have been with a cup in my hand. A lot of discussions, traveling and running around town. This cup is international. For me it represents security and relaxation.