Ο άνθρωπος με το Ακορντεόν

Ποτέ δεν κατάλαβα γιατι με ελκύει τοσο το ηλιοβασίλεμα. Ακουω για ανθρωπους που ονειρεύονται με την Ανατολή. Άλλους που προσμονουν ενα απογευματινο καφέ συντροφιά με ενα βιβλιο σε καποιο ανθόστολιστο μπαλκόνι. Αλλοι, ξυπνάνε με την ανυπομονεσια ενος πρωινού περιπάτου. Και κάποιοι, σαν εμενα, ερωτεύονται το ηλιοβασίλεμα,τα χρώματα του λυκόφωτος και τα άστρα.

"Όλοι εχουμε τις ωρες μας" παράκουσα μια γριά να μονολογεί καποτε. Κοριτσακι κι εγω τοτε, το πήρα κυριολεκτικά! Ανακάλυψα νωρις την δίκη μου αγαπημένη στιγμη: Οταν ο κοσμος ντυνόταν στην πορφύρα και στην θαλασσα άνοιγε ξανα αυτο το προκλητικό ροδόχρυσο μονοπάτι. 

Ειλικρινά, δεν θεωρω οτι ωρίμασα ποτε. Ακομα και σημερα, ακομα και σε εκατό χρονια, θελω να συνεχίσω να βλεπω τον κοσμο μεσα απο το ιδιο αυτο - πες το αφελές, αν θέλεις -  πρισμα: γεμάτο μαγεία. Ξερω, πως η ζωη απογοητευει καμια φορα. Πως τα ονειρα δεν ειναι παντα αυτο που περίμενες. Πως οι προσδοκίες δοκιμάζονται. Πως καθε "θελω" κρύβει πισω του εναν ατελείωτο αγώνα. Ξερω, πως θα πληγωθώ... Μα στο μυαλο μου η έννοια "δυναμη" ειχε παντα μια και μόνη μορφη: να παραμένεις οπως εισαι, οταν ο κοσμος και τα γεγονότα του θα προσπαθήσουν να σε αλλάξουν. Ειναι ο έσχατος άθλος. Το πιο βαρυ πρεπει. Το πιο δυσκολο επίτευγμα. "Η δοκιμασία της ζωης", θα το ονομάσω εγω.

Αλλωστε, θαρρω μονο  τυχαίο δεν ειναι, που η ζωη ειναι γένους θηλυκου. Ειναι θηλυκό σε καθε γλώσσα, αν το σκεφτείς. Κι αυτο, γιατι σαν γυναίκα, θα σε δοκιμάσει. Θα σε τεστάρει. Θα ζορίσει λιγουλάκι τα όρια σου κι αν δει οτι παραπατας πολυ θα σου χαμογελάσει παλι για να πάρεις κουράγιο. Πίστεψε ομως, αν περασεις ολα τα "τεστακια" της θα σε ανταμείψει με οποιο τροπο ονειρεύτηκες και χίλιες φορες καλυτερο. 

Καπου δυο - τρια χρονια πριν, ενα παραξενο γεγονός ειχε τραβήξει την προσοχη μου. Δεν ηταν κατι σπουδαίο. Ισα - ισα! Ηταν απλα ενα πρωτότυπο φαινόμενο. Ενα φαινόμενο, που για καποια περίοδο, εγινε ρουτίνα. Ενα απογευμα που μελετούσα, χύμα στο πάτωμα με ενα πύργο βιβλία,  ενας ήχος περα του συνηθισμένου με προβλημάτισε. Μουσικη. Ακορντεόν. Είκοσι χρονια μένω εδω κι δεν ειχα ξανακούσει καποιον να παιζει ακορντεόν! Περίεργη λοιπον, βγήκα στο μπαλκόνι και έψαξα με το βλεμα μου την πηγή του ήχου. Και τον ειδα. Ενας κύριος, μεσήλικας (;) αγκαλιά με το ακορντεόν του περπατούσε στον δρομο παίζοντας παλιές, ελληνικές, νοσταλγικές μελωδίες. Σταματούσε κατω απο καθε μπαλκόνι. Επαιζε λιγακι. Κι υστερα συνέχιζε τον μοναχικό του περίπατο. Ενα χερι καπου καπου ξεπρόβαλε απο καποιο παραθυρο κι έριχνε μερικά νομίσματα στο πεζοδρόμιο. Άραγε ποιος γερασμένος λογισμός περιπλανήθηκε για λιγο σε αυτα τα στενά σοκάκια της λήθης που φέρνει σαν δώρο η νοσταλγία? 

Θυμάμαι έβγαινα καθε απογευμα στο μπαλκόνι για να τον ακούσω. Οχι γιατι έπαιζε κατι μοναδικά ομορφο, οχι. Μοναχα γιατι έπαιζε για όλους αυτους που κάθονται στα κλειστά τους σαλόνια. Γιατι ένιωθα πως προσκαλούσε εμας, τους κοιμησμενους αργόσχολους, να ακούσουμε την ζωη. Γιατι φοβόμουν πως δεν ακουγε κανεις το τραγουδι που αφιέρωνε στον κοσμο. Γιατι, σαφως, αυτο που εκανε το αγαπούσε. 

Και δεν με έστησε ποτε. Καθε καλοκαίρι, ιδια ωρα, περνούσε απο εκει, κι εγω περίμενα να τον ακούσω. Αυτον τον ανώνυμο κι απρόσωπο ανθρωπο που εκανε κατι φαινομενικα τοσο άσκοπο.

Μέχρι που καποτε...Σταμάτησε. Ισως, να ηταν ερωτευμένος κι αυτος, κι επαιζε για καποιο περιφανο αηδόνι που έκλεψε την καρδια του. Ισως, επιτελους, το αηδόνι τον άκουσε και συγκινήθηκε. Ισως, καπου τωρα φτιάχνουν μουσικη μαζι. Δεν ισχυρίζομαι πως ξερω.... Μα αυτη την ιστορια θελω να φτιάξω για εκείνον.

Αυτη την στιγμη, καθομαι στο μπαλκόνι και ο ουρανός αρχίζει αργα να στολίζεται με αστερια. Μοναχα ο ματωμένος ορίζοντας μαρτυρά το τελευταιο σκίρτημα της μέρας που σβήνει. Με χαιρετά, θαρρω. Με ρωτα, τι νοσταλγίσα σημερα. 

"Πολλα". 

Αυτο θα ψιθυρίσω μοναχα.

Και θα σας αφησω. Πρεπει να κλέψω μερικά αστερια...! 

- E.T.

The Messengers Of A Dream's Promise

Don't you think it's wonderful how different eyes can see different things in the same thing? They say it's called perspective. Imagination on the other hand... Is a far more interesting and complicated dimension!  So the other day I was scrolling on Facebook when I stumbled upon this challenge. It had this picture and it said  "give it a back story".  I liked the idea, so I thought "why not? let's give it a go!". Here is what my imagination came up with...! If you have your own back story, let me know about it! Mine goes like this: 

"One day, I was doing research about medicinal herbs in the public library when a strange, little book caught my attention. It seemed to be some sort of a vintage, old looking diary, but instead of confessions, it contained a wide collection of folklore tales from different civilizations around the world illustrated with beautiful sketches of enthralling sceneries. I knew reading a stranger's diary was uncalled for, yet the anticipation was to high and I gave in to temptation. As I turned the yellowed pages, I found myself sinking in a universe of myths, legends and fairytales, just like any naive child, neglecting reality for the shake of an other adventure.

A Summer Cottage Close
to the woods

"Once upon a time, there were five children who would not accept that there was no magic left in the world. We all know how children love unearthly things or how easy it is for them to surrender in any illusion created by youth. Connected by bonds of friendship and family, they had a little summer cottage hidden in the woods where they 'd gather and dream of all the wonderful adventures waiting to be lived in the future years. But these years came and passed and soon the children were all grown ups, all the dreams now forgotten along with their summer cottage. They were now serious professionals and respected ladies bearing heavy responsibilities and a certain image to preserve. They had no time for foolish, childish dreams - you see, reality is not compatible with those. 

One day, they decided to visit that little cottage once again. So they did. But since they were very busy people they could only stay one day and one night. They arrived at midday. In the past years the verdure has grown wilder and the neglected gardens flirted with the edge of the woods. After settling in, late in the afternoon one of the girls found an old, dusted, book about mysterious, magical creatures hidden under a bed. When they were little they 'd search under the fallen, rusted leaves for fairies and dwarfs or climb in the trees hopping to catch a starlight winged butterfly. As the night fell, the girl - always dressed in red - came up with a game: "Let's get out in the Forest and follow the first wild animal we meet! ". At first there were, of course, objections. You see, they've never been in the forest after nightfall. But the scary sounds and the dark were only enough to scare little children away. They were adults now, so it could be fun - they thought. 

They wandered on the grounds around the house, trying to locate the once visible paths as the last light of the day slowly faded. Soon, they found an owl. Her lonely, occasional, song was enough to capture their attention.The five friends followed the bird deeper and deeper into the forest. The weird thing was: the bird acted as if it wanted to be followed: Flying from branch to branch waiting for its odd tail to catch up. It was a beautiful starry night, even though the sky was hardly visible under the thick foliage of the tall trees. The atmosphere was filled with humidity and the delicate scent of night flowers. Every now and then their senses caught the low sounds of scared animals running away or a glimpse of shinny pairs of eyes watching curiously the unexpected guests. A soft wind moved the leaves and suddenly it seemed as if they were whispering to each other in some foreign dialect. Suddenly the group stopped in realisation. This illusion was far too realistic. Then the owl bowed and spoke in human voice and said: "Fear not, humans, cause no harm will come upon you. Please, if you 'd be so kind, follow me a little bit longer, just until we reach the very heart of the Forest. I then promise you, all of your questions shall be answered". And so they did. They followed the mysterious animal, their senses now alarmed for any upcoming threats. 

" Give It A Back Story "

Was it a dream? Was this really happening? Everyone kept their thoughts to themselves - too scared that perhaps the smallest human sound could chase the dream away. All at once, a cry broke the silence and the trees started swaying under the command of a violent wind. They all froze in fear when the cry echoed again, this time even louder. Pain, sorrow, despair... A dark figure rose from the darkness. It was a tall four legged creature with horse like lower body, human like torso, and a shapeless head resembling that of a swan. Crippled dark wings grew from it's back, featherless and pathetically bare. It's image was as blurry as if it was projected by a mirror - a trick overused by the stage illusionists at the time - but there was an undeniable aura about it, something of a memory of grace and a hint of sadness that made it clear: there was no trick played there, in this dark, deserted meadow.  "Who are you?" It said with a deep, human voice that seemed to be coming from above, like the artful action of a ventriloquist. Yet none of the terrified people could come up with an answer. "WHO ARE YOU!?" , demanded the creature again. Then the timid voice of the girl in red said : "We are humans. Who are you? Why are you crying?" The creature exhaled wildly. " I have so many names... They call me reality now. But all I am is a shadow of my past self. I was once beautiful and full of colors. Your wishes were the feathers of my wings. You called me Dream back then. But your kind has forgotten me, and I turned dark and grey." Then the creature bend down its tall neck and inhaled their scent deeply. " You five were once children filled with hope, kindness and dreams... You too have forgotten your dreams. But I can still smell a hint of hope in your hearts. Even a sparkle is enough to start a fire. Will you please be my feathers? I need to show the world how to dream again. That reality is just what they make of me. That this world can be colorful again. Please, will you be my messengers?" ...

I never learnt the end of the story. The ink has faded away. But one day, I was gathering flowers in a forest near by when I thought heard an owl talking to a tree. I hid behind a rock and listened. It said about five children who thought themselves adults. It said a Dream has turned them into sounds. Messengers... Maybe I had fallen asleep and everything I witnessed was nothing but a dream. But, sometimes, I think I can hear a soft murmur in the wind calling me to fly or I can feel as if there is a rhythmic - rather comforting - song in the rain and there is also something unique in the crystal sound of people's laughter... And I can't help but wonder...Can't you hear it as well?  "

-E.T.

Story rights reserved 

WARNING! Our heroes fade away...

So, yesterday, I visited my uncle’s village. It’s a beautiful small group of houses hidden in the mountains. It has a lake not far from his house, and a beautiful lonely church standing a bit aside from the main village, as if watching the people from above. I am more of a sea person, but I kind of enjoy nature in all its forms… If it ever came to a choice between mountains and the sea, I‘d definitely go with the sea option. Yet, nature amazes me in every possible way. Laying in the grass, watching the sky and admiring the lake while the only music around me comes from the bird singing and the winds soft whisper in the tree leaves… it’s like a fairytale! It’s freedom!

As a city child, I ‘ve never had had the opportunity of spending hours running in the wild, exploring caves and forests or swimming on a lake – possibly searching for all sort of magical creatures and treasures hiding out there. On the contrary I was spending my time reading books about unicorns and fairies, warlocks and witches and dreaming of the moment that this world of magic would finally open its doors to me! I believed that, just like Alice, I would drop into a rabbit’s hole or maybe a fairy would fly one night through my window and take me to a magical place hidden between the stars. Sometimes, I even imagined finding a dragon and with him I‘d travel the world or sailing all the way through the sunset with a golden ship made of sunshine. God knows how many years I‘ve waited for my Hogwarts letter to arrive – wondering what might have happened to my owl or how I wished I ‘d discover a wardrobe leading to Narnia.

Day by day, I was adding more and more heroes in my collection. So many, that I could not possibly write about all of them here. It was as if the letters were rising from the white pages of my books forming weird bridges between fantasy and reality. One day I was wearing a mask and a bed sheet pretending to be a great swordsman like Zorro and the next one I was off to an adventure with D’Artanian, Luke Skywalker or the Black Tulip! Oh, and those great trips with the Black Pearl and vicious pirates while plowing across the seven seas? What could I possibly say about them?  Funny how fast a princess can turn into an assassin or an avenger when you are a child , is it not?

I am a grown up girl now. I know, or more likely I got used to the idea that such fairytales and wonderful creatures don’t exist in the real world. I’ve learnt that humans can’t grow wings and that horses cannot fly. I ‘ve learnt all the rules of Chemistry and Physics – with a part of me still hopping that somewhere in there lies the answer of why we can’t find all the wonders we imagine. I also became fond of new heroes. I dreamt of having a chat with Leonardo DaVinci or Newton. I imagined of what it would be like to have a cup of tea with Queen Victoria in the Buckingham palace. I started to dress like Lady Dianna – adding class and style into my everyday life. My whole life I was an undercover cosplayer of all the heroes – both real and not real – who made an impact to my personality. I‘ve met them all. I know them all so well. And still, I carry each and every one of them in my heart.

Even now, even though it’s been a long long time since I started realising that the  Disney princesses where only beautiful drawings with an inspiring message, a part of me denies to accept that all this colourful childhood was only a fraud of writers and directors who played with my mind. I admit that I am still looking forward to the next Disney or Barbie movie. And that the last few years I became a Viking who could tame dragons and a Celtic princess who was extremely talented on archery. I’ve spent a lot of afternoons with the company of young Merlin and Arthur (sometimes making research about the whole Arthurian legend and trying to separate facts from myth with help from the Knight Malory) I laughed and cried with them, sometimes both at the same time to be honest. Then a dear friend of me helped me make an acquaintance with a new kind of Sherlock Holmes. Having read the original tales from Arthur Conan Doyle, I was surprised seeing the weird and vagarious hero being even weirder and an extreme “high functional sociopath” placed in the modern world. At first, it was not pleasant for me to see the hero I’ve always imagined sitting by the fire, using cellphones and acting all crazy-er that the usual Sherlock.

Until now, all I‘ve done was mumbling about my childhood’s and present dreams and illusions. You may wonder “what was the point of even reading all of this”? Well, I can’t help but notice that the last few years children are lacking their childishness. They don’t dream anymore. They don’t go to adventures. They don’t want to spend a day on the wild. They just want stand in front of a computer screen scrolling their way out of their problems. Watching my baby cousin handling a tablet yesterday with such ease it made me wonder: Is technology starting to invade our DNA? We made technology to conquer the world. Instead it starts to consume our lives, stealing our moments and dreams. Most children don’t ask dolls for Christmas anymore only for the new iPhone. That may be quite normal for a teenager, but do you really feel it’s normal for a child? I never wanted a stupid cellphone when I was young. I wanted a unicorn plushie. Don’t you feel like the heroes we so loved are left forgotten and covered in dust while vulgar and precocious Antonella (From the Patty TV show) and more weird creatures (aka Monster high dolls holding coffins and stuff) steal their show? Since when vulgar is a replacement for elegance?  Why bring a child – the very source of life - close to death by giving them creepy looking dolls?  Your kids still have the ability of dreaming. Just teach them the way.

It’s true that even though I have spent countless nights searching among the stars I never found a way to Neverland and that, at least until now, I ‘ve never found a secret door leading to Wonderland. Still, sometimes, a voice, like a whisper in my mind tells me that maybe this little secret path does exist. If not, how could people write about all those thing? Was Tolkien crazy? I seriously doubt it. I came to discover that maybe this entrance hides somewhere in this world. And if we cannot literally cross paths with it within a magic cave or an enchanted forest we will definitely find it inside our hearts. I know how to dream. I know how to grow wings. I’ve learnt how to fly. Do you?

-E.T.

(all rights reserved)

Goodbye Summer! Hello September! Summer-Autumn-tangled thoughts!

Greetings everyone,

I don't know what should I talk about today... To be honest, I just look at the blank piece of paper before me , wandering about what shall I fill it with... At this moment, if I was a painter there would only be one thing I 'd like to draw: A little bit of blue sadness, illuminated with white brushes of  joy and laughter... It's this familiar feeling of the summer slowly coming to an end...

Our little summer company... Most of us left the previous week yet some still remain. As always, I 'd be the very last one to leave. As always I 'll try to absorb every single moment of the summer till it's very end. I 'll watch the small city being deserted little by little... The boats gradually disappearing from our coast. People leaving... The grass will grow wild again, and will soon be dancing to the will of the fall's wind. Soon our so loved azure sky will turn into a canvas of several shades of grey and heavy black clouds 'll start watering the earth with rain drops - all the savings they made during the summer will be wisely spend on every inch of land during the approaching winter.

Yesterday night I was with the kids - those of us who are left. It's a habit of us to spend every night at the beach. We are talking, playing games, having fun... Yet I always take some time off to watch the night sky. Oh, how I love the night sky! I love those stars! I feel like I could spend hours admiring their sparkling beauty! Always exclaim in surprise each time one of them is crossing the deep blue-black velvet of the night. This ravishing golden line separating the sky in two parts merely for some seconds and then vanishing, as if swallowed by darkness, as if the night will not tolerate anyone stealing away her own breathtaking performance. Can you believe it? Those falling stars, this wonderful effect that always takes us by surprise, it's nothing more that a single rock crashing in earths atmosphere while blazing up. A mere rock. Very similar to one of those we use to throw in the water just to watch them splashing the sea surface. A single rock putting up such an effort to make an impression. To curve its existence in silver and gold. To illuminate all it's way to oblivion. Wishes upon a star? I always wanted to wish upon a star. I even tried so many times. I always believed that those wishes will come true. But  while watching the falling the star all I can do is stare in awe and yell " Oh! Look!!! It's a  shooting star!"  with a smile! I constantly forget about my wish. Part of me feels as if I would be abusing the beauty before me if I took advantage of the stars "death" for my own small ambitions and wishes. What about this stars wish? It's wish to engrave it's existence in our memory? Yet, what if each star's fall is a human's wish burning to come true?

With all those questions running through my mind, I stare at the sky every night. So I did yesterday. I could feel an unsightly breeze, barely caressing the silvery surface of the sea. It feels as if its whispering softly a little secret in our ears: "Winter is approaching again...", it said, "Get ready! Summer days will end soon...". And this warning still echoes in my mind.

I like winter, but I kind of adore the summer and I can't help but feel a little depressed knowing that it's over once again. I 'll miss the sea, all the swimming and surfing and playing in the water until the next summer.... Also, fall is such a depressing season...!  Even if the earth is all dressed in gold, and the leaves are dancing around the streets, one can clearly sense that it's this moment of the year where the summer and winter collide and my hear is torn between the enchanting endless blue of the summer and the white majesty of winter (even though it barely snows where I am). Fall feels as if the earth goes back to sleep...

Yet I guess every season has it's own beauties. Summer 2015 we'll wait for you!!! Until then, Hello September! Surprise us! ;) 

-E.

(I just had to add this pic... as a Harry Potter fan I am! :D )

May I Share With You, My Little Experience?

It's been a long time since I wrote something here... Not sure if it was due to boredom or just loss of interest... Sometimes I find it so hard to express my thoughts that I end up deciding that any attempt is - and always will be - hopeless... Yet this decision is never final. I always find a way back to writing, trying to put up a fight against that hopeless ambition of mine.

In the past years - as I might have mentioned before - I had my greatest dream crashed despite all of my hard tries and efforts to chase it. I really did try my best. I even got so close. And yet the best of me was not enough to achieve my goal. When I raised my hand to grasp that dream of mine, it simply slipped away from my fingers! After that incident, I was kind of wandering in the world just flowing with life, waiting to see where all of this is going to end up to. Which is the final destination? I kind doubt there was any to begin with anymore. It's like a ship metaphor. I 've lost both my destination and my compass and I feel as if I am wandering in this endless ocean of life, following any route the wind on my sails chooses for me. Forgotten and lost for what seams like forever?

I had no real dreams ever since. I was too scared to dream. Afraid to try. Terrified to fail. It was around then that I got used to losing I guess. Let me state here that I am not complaining about anything. I am just stating some facts about that time 2 years ago. As for the dream I make such a fuss around? You may laugh if I tell you but I will anyway, cause I am not ashamed of my dreams, nor of my failures. My failed dream was (is?) to become a doctor. Does that sound childish? To me, it is the ultimate link between life, human and God. I'd have the chance to offer a new hope, another day, an other smile. Being a doctor means to have life flowing from you. I doubt there is any greatest reward than a simple "Thank you" and a smile after a successful operation. The greaest things, and the most valuable ones are not the expensive ones you see. Which would you value the most? A beautiful diamond or the smile of someone you love? Which would you be most sorry to lose?  To me those treasures of the heart: the memories, the feelings, the moments, are the most valuable things in life and the only memento we take with us after our journey here comes to an end. It's the heart and the spirit that defines someones wealth.

Yet, seeing the whole thing from where I stand now, I can see that I was not right to give up everything for one failure. I am sure now that life has a secret plan for everyone, even if it does not always agree to our own ambitions. Ambitions - that right. You see, one day it just occurred to me that some dreams are not as noble as they look. Some dreams are concealed ambitions. Of course this is not a rule - it's more likely an exception of the rule. Maybe I, myself, was punished cause I was too ambitious - because as a selfish being I am - I wanted to be the best. I always wanted to be the best in everything: In my grades, my job, in arts...  I tried e v e r y t h i n g. But there are so many things and so little time! So many directions I don't know which way to turn! Maybe, becoming a doctor is not my gift. Maybe I 'd become a really bad doctor. So by getting me so close to my dream yet failing anyway, life was trying to tell me that "You see? You are so close! But what you ask for is not for you! I got another plan - something you 'll be really good at."

Currently I am studying Pharmacy. I am about to get to the third year now. I still don't know where I am heading to, or what is to come next for me. Remember the ship without compass? The fact that I don't know my destination does not mean that there is none ahead for me. I 've learnt to trust this wind. He knows where I belong better that I do myself. I even dare to dream again! Both real dreams and concealed ambitions. I just give life a chance to show me what is the thing for me.

Being lost could be either a tragedy or an adventure - maybe even both. The point of view is the secret to make the difference. After all, even in fairy tales there are always adventures and tragedies before the happy ending, right? So why not perceive life as a fairytale? Our very own fairytale, with our very own happy ending. I always believed that the best way to know a place is to get lost in it. So let's get lost in the world together! Who knows? Maybe our paths meet one day. If not, we'll surely meet where all the fairytales and the dreams collide.

-E.C.

Carpe Diem, Today!

So here we go...! It's March already and I still can't believe it. In my mind I am still trapped somewhere in between Christmas and the New Years Eve. Isn't it strange? People get to go after everything: Fame, wealth, relationships... Yet the ancient demand and one of which leaded the alchemists to set the very foundation of science still remains, often passed unnoticed by the modern age Homo Sapiens. Time. The other one though still remains: gold.

There are moments when I look back and I feel as if my whole life until now was nothing more but the glimpse of a thunder. Just a sudden flash of light, disappearing without leaving any evidence of it's existence in the raging storm. I often feel as if the thread of time slips through my fingers so fast that forces me to run behind every moment. It's as if I am racing against the future while the past is vanishing behind the veil of oblivion, and I am just too busy worrying for all the things to come and the plans I am trying to make based on the unknown. Therefore, I forget that the only thing I have for certain is the present and the scrapbook of memories I'll create from this. I believe this is a common feeling for many other people as well.

Living in the past or the future; either way you cannot enjoy the moment. It's easy to fall in this trap. But it's about time to stop planning the unknown things to come and take action in creating our life based on all we have. In other words: Carpe Diem, grasp the moment, live now - don't leave it for later cause it may be too late by then. That's why I always thought that the greatest gift one can offer is his time, cause it's a part of their lives they'll never get back yet they are sure that it's worth giving it to us.

What is that engages life to beauty? All the little things that hide priceless treasures: The love behind every kiss, the friendship behind every hug, the kindness behind every smile... So, while you walk down the path of life remember: Fight whatever frightens you. Chase anything you ever wanted. Dream big and hunt those dreams until you catch them. Grasp every opportunity. But most importantly; never forget that life only credits the brave ones.

And remember to enjoy every moment! Cause it's unique in it's own special way! 

-E.C.

A glimpse of Gatsby's fantasy

Some time ago, I read this book by Scott Fitzgerald called "The Great Gatsby"... I was enchanted at once by the unique, romantic and secretive nature of the main character. For me, Gatsby represented something that I thought to be impossible by then: The incarnation of dreams.

A green light ... That little green light in the end of Daisy's dock has turned into a symbol for every impossible dream, a token for every kind of strange and extravagant utopia. Is there someone brave enough to stand across this light, counting the hours, the days and the years, longing for the moment when he'll finally grasp

the unearthly glimpse? Is anyone romantic enough so as to build a whole life on the broken remaining of a far forgotten dream? Who could possibly sacrifice his entire world without hesitation just to experience some seconds of the illusion of his vision? Jay Gatsby. The man who would do a n y t h i n g for the sake of love. The man who preferred to shut his eyes to reality and fall behind a phantom - just like a child who seeks to find fairies hiding under the leafs.

He wants to repeat the past. Can someone repeat the past? Why would somebody want to go back? When he is happy? I doubt that, since when you are happy all you want is to make the moment last longer. But what happens if you are sad? If you feel like you made an enormous mistake once? Then you do want to go back and change the wrong decision. Gatsby had a really good reason for wanting to go back. Has was being crushed by the weight of his own mistake. In his delusion of grandeur he thought that love could wait for him to fulfil his ambitions. He was poor; he thought he was not appropriate for Daisy, so he did everything he could to become someone worthy of standing by her side. But by then, Daisy was gone.

When Jay said that one can repeat the past, he forgot a very essential detail. He was ready to go back. But Daisy was not. She was not the girl he met on Louisville during the World War I anymore. In all those years, she had become a wife and a mother. She had gained some memories and she had a life. For Jay, running away with Daisy was not enough. He wanted to delete all her memories without him. And she just couldn’t or wouldn’t do it.

A friend once told me something I think I‘ll never forget. We were having a conversation over the whole “time” subject and he told me “I have no idea whether the time is linear or not. But, we all count it in round clocks, right?” That simple statement was a detail I‘ve never noticed before. We do count time in repeated patterns – circles – hours, days, months… they all go back to the first after the last one passes. Could this mean that all human beings have a subconscious desire to turn the time back?

The thing is that in real life, time cannot be reversed. One can only correct his mistakes by planning a new route on the map. The only way of repeating the past is by wondering in our memories.

Before the end of the book, Jay is a hero in the reader’s heart. He fought hard for his dream. Just like a child he refused to accept the truth and he never gave up hope, not even in his very last moments. He died a hero that no one would recognise. He willingly took the blame for everything they charged him with cause all that mattered to him was Daisy. The woman who was too afraid to leave her comfortable life for what her heart wished for and the same beautiful, dissembler and self-centered woman who never called or show any sign of sadness when her dream was no more.

“So we beat on boats against the current borne back ceaselessly into the past”…

- E.

Walk on the vermillion paths

There are moments when I believe my mind is falling apart... It feels like every word is forgotten and every image is fading away in the blur shadows of a subconscious fall that I have no control over.

I tend to forget what joy feels like and sometimes I confuse it with a strange, unexplained melancholy that surrounds beautiful things… It could be flowing out from the knowledge that every moment is unique and once gone, it‘ll never come back again… So, every time I have a beautiful moment, I feel like I am losing part of it wondering “why can’t this last forever?”

I love to dream. I have had dreams in the past that did not come true. From where I stand now I can clearly see that I was wrong. I don’t know yet if they did. It’s too early. Maybe life knows what is best for me and therefore protects me from any wrong choices I might make. In the edge of disappointment though, the only thing I could see was failure and the broken pieces of a dream. Pieces that I gathered one by one and kept them safe in a small place in my heart. A little box containing all the nostalgic memories. On the other hand, sometimes I believe that back there I confused dreams with ambition… and to be honest, maybe I was being crushed by the collapse of my ambition.

The sun is blinding my eyes every time I lift my head to look at the sky, so I ‘ll just look down for now, allowing the glorious, bright light to play with the color of my hair creating strange illusions of sparkling stars and strange glimpses.

This is vanity… Maybe vanity is the source of ambition.  Behind every kind of human existence hides at least a small amount of vanity. I feel like its waiting for the moment your soul is weak enough and then it just comes bursting in, blinding your reason and closing a trap around your thoughts. This is the beginning of the fall. This ego that keeps growing eternally and one impossible dream that keeps hurting you forever.

Neither had I hesitated some moments ago to surround myself with stars and bright glimpses –all in my imagination. I did not hesitate once to raise my hands to the sky in what I thought to be a doomed effort to hug the sun.

This is just human nature. We feel like we have to go after perfection in a meaningless race where we stand no chance of winning. Illusions, dreams and hope.    Sometimes I think that this is the life. Yet, life is wonderful, and what makes her wonderful is exactly this change between those beautiful and hard times we experience during the journey. After all, since there can’t be light without darkness, one can’t appreciate happiness without sadness. Chasing perfection is not wrong, as long we seek it to become better companions, better parents, better friends, better humans… But if vanity and ambition is our motivation, we will never see that we actually do own perfection. It’s just hidden in all the little things that we pass by every day without noticing, only because we take them for granted.

So, if the sun represents all the dreams we have and still believe that they are impossible to be reached, let me tell you that even if you can’t look straight to the sun when it’s high in the sky, cause your eyes will hurt and cry, you can always wait for the sunset. Then the sun is traveling all the way to touch the surface of the sea and then there is nothing that stops you from stare right into the greatness of the bright star – your bright dream. Then you are free to wonder in the vermillion paths it creates in the vast surface of the ocean of life.

Chasing a dream is not enough. You have to chase it in the right moment. The moment that life will make this dream come your way too. Until then all one has to do is wait, enjoy the little (yet great) things, love and be loved, and be ready to watch the sunset when it comes. But even then, do not let ambition, vanity or even the obsession over something to wash away all the beautiful things you might have gained by then.

The point I am trying to make is that, even if something seems to be impossible, life will find a way to create a path for us to follow this dream. If not, then we can just wait for the dream to come for us. Until then let’s enjoy a walk on the vermillion paths of life, as for the dreams? They are hidden somewhere along the way. ;)

-E.

Introduction

Hello everyone,

I 've created this blog without really knowing what am I supposed to write... Shall I bore you with details of my everyday life? Or should I write down thoughts that cross my mind from time to time? I am not really sure...

     I believe the first question that should be answered is "what a blog actually is"? Is it something like an online diary? People tend to dislike writing by hand these days since typing seams to be more popular. Personally, I prefer writing cause it is more sincere while typing is a kind of impersonal way of expressing ones thoughts...This is kind of ironic though since I am actually typing right now...!

    Well, back to the main question "What is a blog?" . Like I said before it could be some kind of an online diary where you share thoughts and experiences. But, since we live in a world where technology seams to rule every single detail of our everyday life and therefore consumes most of our time, real life human communication is falling apart. Yet, this does not mean that a human being does not feel the need to communicate. So in order to satisfy this longing we create these blogs - our blogs - and use the same technology that imprisoned us in a lonely life as a channel of interaction. Of course this is a rather hyperbolic description of this particular technology drawback. So let me state here that I am not against technology evolution. On the contrary, its a very useful tool in our everyday life, a great ally in knowledge and a funny way to spend some of your free time. But really now, how many of the modern age children know how to use a map instead of a GPS app?

     By re-reading my text I can see that I said nothing at all and I definitely did not answer the simple question I asked. That's maybe because every one of us sees the subject from his own perspective, moved by his very own motivation and therefore there is not a standard answer to give. I still haven't decided about my personal reason of creating this blog, but it could have been a bit of both...

     Wishing you a wonderful day! :)

P.S. Apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.I am not a native English speaker.

 -E.