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Running The Miles

16 Feb

he would wake us up at 6 AM, Friday mornings, with a very comforting voice.

suggesting as if it’s the most original idea in the world,  that we would take the leap out our beds and go run with him in the club before people start waking up.

it would be very cold and we would be covered in piles of clothes. excited and eager to be with him, hugging him for such a wonderful IDEA!

he used to love running. now i look back and wonder if he liked running because of the action or because of the intention behind it.

so, he would start running and he would ask me to hold my sister’s hand because he needs to run a bit faster but he will be running back to us (which he did.. and then he didn’t)

my sister and i would hold each other’s hands tight as if running side by side is not enough to make sure we wont get lost.. and we still hold each other’s hands while running side by side in life.. and as we grew older we knew, that yes! you can get lost even if you are next to each other if you didn’t hold each other’s hand tightly and faithfully.

so, my sister would get tired mid way, and we would stop running waiting for my dad to come back to us. and when he did, i would request that he would carry her on his shoulder. she’s tiny, thin, small and cold!

so he would, and then we would start singing while running. we would sing “1, 2 , 3 we are running, whose shoes should we ruin” and whoever name we chose, need to run faster to avoid having their shoes stepped on.

we would laugh so hard, and i always glance up at my sister to make sure she’s okay. and i would smile knowing she wont get lost when she’s on his shoulders!

I don’t think i ever felt the urge to ask “why not carry me?” , and i am really proud of the selfless kid i used to be. i guess that carried on to now as a curse. but that’s okay, the kid in me is proud of the selfless adult i am now.

I remember, he would always praise how strong my steps would be. i remember i always felt proud that my athletic dad thinks i have strong footsteps! and now i remember, that when i used to run fast my feet would hurt but i would tell myself (don’t let him down now, he just praised your steps) how ironic life could be..

what reminded me of that memory?


I was back home few days ago, and as i was sitting in my ink black old room, i heard a couple of friendly neighborhood dogs barking like they used to back then when i was a kid and thought they are protecting us against all the evil that tries to enter our street.

how magical sounds could be..

how nostalgic memories attached to them are.. 




via Daily Prompt: Sound


A Hateful Dear Diary Post

20 Jan

Dear Diary,
I just met a vicious cry wolf, and realized i lived with him for years. He preyed on my compassion and the tremendous feeling of “need”. 
Dear Diary,
I am in awe for the cry wolf impeccable acting skills. How his eyes would be weary and within a second would be scanning around to check the empathy thermometer towards him.
Dear Diary,

I cant catch my breathe, as if i am drowning on a solid ground. I feel sick to my stomach that will jump start my body inside out. Ill be a master-scene in a gruesome movie with all my organs and my lonely soul worn on my sleeves. All two of them.
Dear Diary,

Im a daughter of an abusive manipulative cry wolf. 
Yours Honestly and Truly,

A strong take no shit fucked up wolf/sheep

Aesthetic and Ecstasy

19 Jan

is there a relation between aesthetic and ecstasy?

well dont start searching for the meaning of the two words, i got you covered (in a way) .. actually in my way.

i for one, have been living on the face of the earth for the last 33-ish years and never have i used the word aesthetic. is it the lack of vocabulary on my side or the fact that i never found someone, or something so beautiful that i had to use the word aesthetic?

yes, the word Aesthetic actually means the appreciation of beauty, nature or art. or for some over happy people, they usually use the phrase as “i feel aesthetic”. i always wanted to ask them: by that do you mean that you feel you are always in awe of something or you believe yourself to be a state of the art that needs to be appreciated? no hard feelings though!

i dont know why, but the moment i read the word aesthetic, the word ecstasy just popped in my mind. and it kept knocking on the door asking to be heard out of why it’s related to aesthetic.

this is what Ecstasy had to say:

(i believe that am a stronger feeling and deeper than Aesthetic. you can always be aesthetic but you will rarely feel the ecstasy of appreciation of a certain element of life.

you can always lie to yourself or compliment someone by saying (i’m aesthetic) but i am more honest! it will show on your face and eyes and sound if you do feel the ecstasy of a situation or a person or a piece of music.

i’m high! both physically and mentally. you will rarely find me on the ground. i’ll take you on my back and lift you up from where all the lame aesthetics are there.

i’m not easily attained or maintained but you are lucky if you get to know me and involve me in your life.

i devour aesthetic in my definition, to feel the ecstasy you need to pass by aesthetic first, and move on to me.

i’m a violent feeling, not in a sense of beating up but in the sense of earthquake and shattering,

dont live your life for long without me. seize me, or miss me).




Read too fast, Sigh too Slow Kind Of Poem

27 Oct

For the love of life in our heart,

for the love of vivid dreams and the sound waves breaking.

For the love of every breathe taken between crying phases,

For the love of dresses, knee high dresses with summer patterns and all the sand that sneaked in and hid in the pockets,

For the love of the whys and what ifs, for the love of the nos and some of the yeses,

For the love of the maybes and the maybe nots,

And for that one deeper sigh, that extra part that starts when the first one is about to end as if the latter was not enough for your soul to scream why,

For the love of all the sighs in the forgotten dreams and the pain of only ifs,

For the love of the second chances, lost romances and the ones who got away,

For the love of promises, kept promises and been present, and who are here to stay,

For the love of please just leave and let me be on my own sinful wishes,

For the love of every single tear that rolled down in the middle of songs, poems and cello pieces,

For the love of stolen kisses, touches missin, and whispers that make people smile,

For the love of freedom

For the love of freedom my heart

Just end THIS sigh,


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