Saturday, April 30

By The River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept

About two to three days ago, I've finished reading a novel by Paulo Coelho, "By The River Piedra I Sat Down And Wept (Na margem do rio Piedra eu sentei e chorei). The book I bought about a week ago, and I officially bought its English version, or we can say it as international version of the book. It is quite heavy, with the beautiful diction inside it, and also the story line exposed.

Here is the book cover (it is exactly what it is):

Along the way, I found so many inspirational quotes. Or, maybe it's just a reflection of our real experiences, and Coelho succeeded to pack these all in compact. The language it served was so nude and honest, bold, and also cynic. The romantic side of Coelho, as usual, was also brought in here. 

Friday, April 22

Where's Me, In You?

Hey, your phone’s switched off. I am home now.
I wish I could help you but then I know I couldn’t.
Just feel strong, okay.
You can find me anytime you want.
Love you, D..
Hey, are you there?
Me, here shouting out your name. I just want you to know, even this is not an important thing to care. If you think that I am too fussy, first of all, I am really sorry. Maybe I don’t have to be like that, maybe I just have to chill. Or maybe I just have not to think anything about you. Maybe and maybe...

Hey, seriously...
At the first time you pulled me into your story, I’ve had no reason to be unintended. The powerful, intenseful, and senseful  life you have, fully interested me. Was that a mistake for me? And if yes, can you draw a line for me to stay still outside? Because every time I tried to get into you, you stopped me on my way there. You never wanted me to explore what’s inside you and what’s your thinking. Again, if I am too excessive, my apology.

“Hey, I don’t know what you think and feel about me, But I am really worrying you.
You switched your phone off and leave me in silence.
Hope you are just fine there.
Take care.”

People are about to judge me as the most silly person, being with you. But who the hell would care if I am not with you? Will they judge me as the happiest person on Earth? Then, if everybody care of me, can they just let  me to let you in?

Hey, again.
Don’t you feel shiver? Because I do feel it right now. It’s not about thunders and hard rain pouring down outside. It’s not about the fever I had. It’s all about my head, thinking about what’s me to you. Over and over again. What’s me to you, then? I ever said to you, that I hate puzzles. Because I am puzzle. And you are, too. And yes, these puzzles are intimidating me all the time. Why can’t  I get off? That’s just because I don’t want to get off.

Last time, Hey...
If I couldn’t reach you for these 3 hours and for the next hours, maybe I have to try to send these through telepathy. If I could.
Anything you do and feel now, I am trying to understand. I am your open book to write on. I can be, simply, the hand that you’ve never asked. Perhaps I can’t solve your problems but don’t you think that I can make it easier for you to face? From the time I decided to be with you, I realized it can be that simple. Maybe the first trial of it is understanding you.
And again, what’s me to you?

Don’t let me in if you want to keep me out. Note that.

Thursday, April 14

A Cracked Egg, But Don't Get Born.

Tons of question grow rapidly, like viruses that could kill you slowly.
Beneath your consciousness, you adore glory. You create and fight the multiple attacks of your own philosophy.

You build barriers around, still thinking, get infatuating: what else on the outside could sting?

And pleasure will always be a stereotype. Style in compact, beautifully packed and shaped. Then laughter and tears, love and hate, past and future: were all those things only satirically sheer?

There's no such spot in me which runs like dramatical folklore, because the only reason of all was only theory, and the rest of feelings: ignored.

Though, I will always be a sophomore. Trapped in previous and next, yesterday and tomorrow. I begin and end up everything, in common. I do life in rebound.

We are substantially made by invisible hand, and especially made by invisible love. The Unseen will always be the unseen, and the question will always be the question.... forever unravel.