Just a drop

There's a drop of silence in my noise.

There's a drop of noise inside my speechless voice.

A drop of shadows

And a drop of tears.

A drop of fearful, oh, so many fears.

A drop of doubt

But no regret for this:

   I chose you wisely

   Despite all the fears.

And from now on I promise that I'll try

To fight against the odds, to fight against "goodbye".

To try to keep the distance, but still to keep you close

To let you see my shadows, but not too many ghosts.

Top of the world

     Greater than love itself is only knowledge. The love for knowledge is the most powerful of all. The purest, the deepest, the noble one.

     I keep observing my surroundings, the people, the thoughts I get, the reactions, the gestures. I'm like a little shadow in the corner, who sometimes gets to step in the spotlight, the place where I am seen, I am observed, I am analysed, I am read, I am loved or I am hated. 
     I read a book a while ago. It told me that my future brings me what is in my thoughts. That the way I think creates my future and that the universe works to give me what I have in mind, good or bad. I believe the only change I get is my perception of it. Just like the cognitive dissonance is reduced when we find a way to accept or change a situation, a belief, an attitude or a way to see it. 
     I started to see how my change of thoughts influenced my life or my beliefs. So I made a little "experiment". Every single day I woke up just the same, tired, worried about the day that has arrived, thoughtful, wanting for it to end. But this time, I created a cognitive dissonance by thinking, despite my mood, that "it is such a great day, I can't believe how amazing I feel! I slept so well and I am sure that it will all go great today. It is a new beginning." I have to mention that the years of theatre in my life helped a lot in pretending this, but it doesn't make it impossible for anyone else. And just like this, I found motivational songs, quotes and I took a screenshot each time I got a nice message from someone. I have been doing this for years. I now have thousands of pictures of motivational things, long lists of songs and I even think twice before using a color to mark what I have to study, so that I try to influence my progress. I have no words to describe how annoying it felt to deny my worries. So that I started thinking "I understand that I feel this way because of this thing, but I will do this thing in order to change it and if it fails, no worries. Every problem has a solution." 
     I am now able to empty my mind during a panic attack without anyone teaching me how to do it. It works for me. Maybe it wouldn't work for others. I reframe thoughts, even if I am not the best at it every single time. But I wanted to believe I was making a progress. And even if I don't, I think that believing made it a progress itself. Even before presentations I listened to "We are the champions", imagining in detail how it is a success.
     So instead of waiting for the worst to happen just to later say "I knew it", I'd rather try to stay positive and to realistically imagine how what I want happens. This way I can at least know what I am fighting for, even if I get it or not, which is the first step in finding it. 
     
     So the next time you think you want to be happy, think about what exactly makes you happy and how you can work on getting that. You don't need to be better than someone else to be "on top of the world". You could, instead, work on being a better version of yourself. And when you feel the worst, helping someone else could help yourself, at least temporarily, especially if you thought you were a bad person. It surely helps me when I put a smile on someone's face or maybe getting some food for someone who truly needs it. 

     Knowledge is important. But knowing how to use it makes you intelligent. 

Who I am

I am sunshine, I am night.

I am glory, I am fight.

As bright as the Sun can be,

I am happy, I am free.

I am beauty in the dark.

I'm a river in the park.

I am what I want to be.

I am happy, I am free.

I am happy, I am free.

For the empire I build

I am strong and I'll succeed

'Cause I am unstoppable.

I don't need a miracle.

I know that no matter what

I'll solve this and I'll solve that

'Cause I'm unforgettable.

I don't need a miracle.

I don't need a miracle.

Perspective

I sometimes look at my creation

And what I see is not perfection.

I know that I have been through much.

I won't let this my soul to touch.

I can't get thoughts out of my mind,

But this doesn't make me less kind.

My feelings blinded me for long,

But I'm still here. And I am strong.

Whatever happened in your past

Doesn't define who you will be.

Whatever you feel - might not last.

You choose what things you want to see.

#2 Short Story - The Mystery On Irondale Street

The Mystery on Irondale Street

     "Sorry, he's not here right now", she says, standing by the door, in front of me.

     "But where is he then?" I ask.

     "Come with me and I'll show you", she adds.

     "Don't go with her", I tell myself, as my rational part would say. But I wasn't feeling too rational. So this is how I ended up on Irondale Street.

                              -11:17 p.m. -

     It was obvious that she hid the evidence.

     "Where are you from?" I ask, trying to discover more about the girl I was spending probably my last night with.

     She lights up a cigarette, but after a few minutes she throws it away without answering.

     "Soo... where is he? Stop trying to avoid my questions!" I tell her, now angry because of the way she acts.

     "Look, kiddo. If you want to find out anything about that coworker you have from the police, you'd better be nice to me" she says, with an evil smile on her face, in the dark.

     I didn't realise when midnight arrived and how beautiful he Moon was. Full. But a storm was coming. And I started to have a bad feeling. My body was shaking. I felt a bad smell. I almost fell. Then, I saw it. In flesh and bones. The corpse of Robert Fallen, my coworker for 15 years. 

     I look around me. It was breathtaking.

     She was gone.

                               - The End -

#1 Short Story - The story of Thomas Emerson

The Story of Thomas Emerson

                             

     I was covered in light. Was it Hollywood, full of cameras? No. Not this time. It was a hospital. I was in a surgery room. I bet you expected that. But let me tell you what happened...

     It was Tuesday. I was standing in line, waiting to get my drink at the new pub in town.

     "What the hell are you wearing?!" I heard behind me. A sharp voice that seemed way too familiar for that many strangers.

     "What are you doing here?" I ask Helen, as I turn around.

     "I brought the videotape you asked for", she answered. "He knew he was about to die."

     "What are you talking about? Did he say that?" I continue to ask. "And how did you find me?" I keep saying. 

     "We don't have time for that. The funeral starts soon. I don't want to see you drunk or wearing that", she says.

     "Fine. But I first have to see it", I add.

     I start watching the videotape and I see... her. Standing right there, threatening the life of Thomas if he wasn't about to leave the love of his life, Amanda. She was crazy. Lilith was crazy.

                          

                         - 24 hours ago -

     I was covered in light. Was it Hollywood, full of cameras? No. Not this time. I am Amelie. A journalist. But now, I'm in a hospital. During a surgery. The whole room is enlightened, but focusing on one person. Thomas Emerson. I bet you expected me to be here, in a surgery. But it's not mine. Let me tell you what happened in just a few words.

     We couldn't save him.

                                 ~The End~

Want more details or stories? Let me know and I'll bring them to reality just for you.

Poezii

Întâlnire

     Este șapte seara. Ea își răstoarnă pe pat machiajele – tot ce are: un luciu de buze de cireșe luat din librărie, la reducere, o paletă de culori pentru a înfrumuseța pleoapele, tuș negru cu două capete, bijuterii noi de argint, cu fluturași mov și două rujuri, alături de o oglinjoară care are în interior un bilețel păstrat de o vară înainte, de la un vechi amic.

     Își alege cu grijă hainele – o rochie albă și pură, la fel ca ea și intențiile ei sau ca iubirea pe care i-o oferea lui chiar și cu gândul. Niște sandale aproape crem cu un toc mic, abia vizibil, dar elegante, îi scot gleznele în evidență.

     

     El, din cealaltă parte a orașului, își aranjează barba, își ia cămașa cea bună și râde de miștourile făcute de colegii de cămin față de el. După atâta facultate, era vremea de o schimbare. Își dădu cu parfumul acela puternic, dar nu exagerat, ci numai bine, încât să se îmbine cu mirosul naturii și florilor de afară.

     Ora opt. Trebuiau să se vadă la răsăritul lunii. El pornește, după o ultimă verificare în oglindă. Ia o duzină de trandafiri de pe drum pentru ceea ce avea să îi fie parteneră pentru cel puțin câteva ore, iar parfumul său și cel al florilor o așteaptă pe ea cu nerăbdare.

     La opt și jumătate deja el o vede cum ajunge lângă el. Nu a așteptat-o mai mult de cinci minute. Îi întinde brațul și ea îl acceptă cu drag. Pupilele li se dilată. Florile o fac să roșească, astfel încât nu mai are nevoie de blush.  Acum sunt trei parfumuri, două chipuri și un suflet, căci atât se completau. Au dansat lent prin parc, deși nu știau a dansa, dar erau doar ei și luna, au împărțit secrete știute doar de gurile lor între ele și au fost eroii propriilor povești de dragoste.