"Here is my secret. It is very simple: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.."- Antoine de Saint Exupéry

Archive for December, 2013

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Did you smile today? :)

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Silence

heavy white snows of silence fall like a blessing
covering us when you hold me,
my heart, pressed flower that will never decay
between your secret pages.

dreams flow across my burning sky of night
and all the nightmares fade when you look my way.
rebelling fears fall aside silent, broken, cursed to die
in forgotten corners where anguish dwells.

on heavenly strings my soul plays the unheard ode
of all my universe getting born again and again,
blooming as I close my eyes and melt in the sweetest sleep,
safe in your arms, hidden in soul, home at last.

AnOldLoveStory

100 words, memyselfandela, December 2013


Loving feeling

Blue jeans, white shirt… When he walked into the room with his loud friends her eyes turned his way. Sitting at the table next to them she could not help but hear the loud conversation they had about beer and kung-fu movies. She smiled. His eyes met her somewhere in the middle of the distance and stopped when seeing the strange passion in her eyes. That was where it all started.

*

Her cigarette continued to burn, just like her eyes used to burn once at the sight of him as he walked into the room that night. Smoke danced around in a quiet rhythm but as music joined the dance filling up the air the thick smoke lifted like a white ghost levitating above them in the night.

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**

“You never close your eyes any more when I kiss your lips.
And there’s no tenderness like before in your fingertips.
You’re trying hard not to show it baby
But baby, baby I know it…
You’ve lost that lovin’ feeling,
Whoa, that lovin’ feeling,
You’ve lost that lovin’ feeling,
Now it’s gone…gone…gone…”

***

He was distant yet she didn’t care any more, she had nothing left to lose. She boldly stepped towards him and quietly took his hand for a dance. Why they’ve never danced before she could not tell, maybe because he thought she wasn’t good enough for him. She didn’t know how, but even so she danced. She missed too much that spark she saw once in his eyes. It was gone, she felt it, yet she could not let go, not that night, not that moment. She danced entranced, her arms holding him, an avalanche of feelings invading her heart while looking at him. Her lips could not speak , his heart had long left her, he was gone, gone, gone…

————————————————————————————————-

300 words, memyselfandela, December 2013


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Black & White

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As a matter of… cat


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Coffeeology


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Who needs DNA tests?


I have learned.We have time – Octavian Paler

memyselfandela

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“We have time for everything.
Time to sleep, time to run to the right and to the left,
time to regret that we made mistakes and time to make mistakes again,
time to judge others and to absolve ourselves,
we have time to read and to write,
to correct what we wrote, to regret what we wrote,
we have time to make plans and time not to respect them,
We have time to make illusions for ourselves and to stir in the ashes later.
we have time for ambitions and sicknesses,
time to blame the destiny and the details,
We have time to watch the clouds, the advertising or some accident,
we have time to banish our doubts,
to delay the answers,
to break a dream and then reinvent it,
we have time to make friends, to lose friends,
we have time to receive lessons and forget afterwards,
we have…

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Did you smile today?

 

 

No matter what life has done to you remember to smile.
Not from the lips, but from the heart.
Have a wonderful day dear friends! 😀
Ela

Adela Galasiu


Music for the Soul

memyselfandela

Christmas is a holiday of great spiritual meaning for me as a soul, it’s a time of reflection, memory, tear, prayer and joy. It is also a time to listen again to the same music of the soul that I have always loved. And when I say music of the soul, I am speaking about genuine Christian Orthodox music/ Eastern Orthodox chant/Byzantine music and about Romanian carols. Listening to this fantastic music provides me an  extraordinary peace and joy. I find myself in the middle of my spiritual journey and experience and I am greatful for every moment of it for I know that the meaning and purpose of this life is far higher than just live in the material world and enjoy worldly pleasures.

I had the unique chance to visit authentic monasteries that spread their spiritual light. In Romania, Serbia and Macedonia there are many such sanctuaries of…

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Rose

memyselfandela

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the night crystallizes truths
despite of all the imperfections
in the crevasses of my broken soul
left at the end of the day with
raw images of degradation and fragments
from fights of silent dragons and demons,
of humans rifted in the damnation to feel only nothingness
because they have nothing holy in their soul,
though they deserve angel shapes.

truly pure love is the one
that gives itself whole, without  judgement,
with no hope of reward
with complete oblivion of all fruits and all joy,
of all gratification, of all praise and ego.
the one that does not build temples for
his self satisfaction, his wisdom or nobleness.
this love is the condescendent eye
on all creature, the rose that blooms in the winter frost.

there’s no way above this nightmare
that is at the same time lesson and life
but to give love to all, without any expectation.

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Lord, come Lord, to see what’s left of people…

One more year has passed… 24 years ago…

memyselfandela

23 years ago….

“It was 23 o’clock. News from Bucharest:
Started in Timisoara with a peaceful demonstration repressed brutally by the system , authorities and security forces, the Romanian revolution spread rapidly throughout the country, the army passed on the side of the civilians on the streets of Timisoara, Sibiu, Bucharest, Brasov and other cities. The number of young people killed and wounded in the fight for freedom continues to grow. ”

Lord, come Lord,
to see what’s left of people…

Nights long and sad
I think of home
And there I see you

There are nights full of dread
For me in the war.
They are nights of tale there for you.
And Lord, for what a life of nightmare.
And for whom they die in vain?
There are nights full of dread
Where I am afraid to scream
Nights of fairytale
of which we no longer know.

Lord…

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Peace

memyselfandela

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tonight and always

it snows outside and over my soul

heavy silences are falling

shades of black and white in every corner

in the end it will be peace.

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memyselfandela, 2012

 

 

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As a matter of… cat


Ich dreh mich um Dich/I am revolving around you – Herbert Grönemeyer

memyselfandela

“When you are fishing in turbid waters and it is dripping in your soul
When all the secrets are betrayed and you feel lost

I am revolving around you, I am revolving around you,
I imagine the bad look
I will take care of your tears, i will overpass all the tortures and all the sufferings
Even when you whine and whip yourself, even when you fight, when you get ripped
When everything gets darker, i will  lead you through the night

When the compass shows only heaven and hell, when your senses become blurry
When you can’t forgive yourself, nobody won’t extinguish your fire

I am revolving around you, I am revolving around you,
I imagine the bad look
I will take care of your tears, i will overpass all the tortures and all the sufferings
Even when you whine and whip yourself, even when you fight, when you…

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for the sake of words

memyselfandela

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Every day countless amateur writers do their best to express their reality, fantasies, beauty, pain, joy, love, hope and dreams, using words in various ways, some with more skill than others, but nevertheless WE ALL WRITE. Does it matter how much time it takes to put down our thoughts? Does it matter how many words we use? In the end all that matters is the feeling left after reading our story… And the story of a life is like a staircase, a spiral made out of small pieces layed every day, just like a talented painter taking thousands of hours for the hundreds of colours and textures that conceive a work of art…
Strangers will come inside our space, read, watch, think and judge us, calling us talented, cheap, silly, special or unique. The way they interact with us is a reflection of their past life, experience, level of culture…

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Sadness

memyselfandela

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Sadness,
silent language that articulates
this huge void screaming in us
for the loved ones we miss

it’s a hole in our heart
that can only be filled
with their genuine
impossible to counterfeit love
———————–

memyselfandela, 2012

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Free

memyselfandela

heartbeat of an agony
living out of the same inexhaustible sunsets of being
untamed pulse of torn days and nights
of languages submerged in deep strings
me and I in my own arms, under my own wings
I shine the smile of freedom

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memyselfandela, 2012

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Stream Of Passion – Darker Days

memyselfandela

“Alma mía,
la desesperanza
me arranca la vida.
En cada paso me clavo una espina,
cada momento enciende mi herida.

[English :
Soul of mine,
despair
rips life from me.
On every step another thorn,
every moment lights up my wound.]

We can live forever,
we’ll fight on together.
Hold on. Hold on.
We can live forever
if we never surrender.
Hold on. Hold on…

Alma mía,
nuestra causa
no es lo que parecía.
Dimos sangre y sudor ciegamente
a la voz que nos guía y nos miente.

[English :
Soul of mine,
our cause
isn’t what it seemed.
We blindly gave blood and sweat
to the voice that guides us
and lied to us]

Will we make it through these days of gloom?

Alma mía,
llevo en las venas
un mal que no se olvida.

[English :
Soul of mine,
I have in my veins
an evil that can’t…

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Ioan Galasiu – In Loving Memory

This post is written in the memory of my beloved father Ioan Galasiu who passed away 24 years ago. My mother was 36 at that time, she had the age I have now. I was 12 years old then, young enough to not realise what was happening, old enough to remember everything for the rest of my life.

If I could I would bring roses to my father, as he loved them so very much. But since I am so far away I bring him the roses of thought and I remember him with all my love.

Queen B&W

Every year when Christmas is near I humbly remember what was then and I try to imagine what may have been if dad would have been still alive. Yet I think that God called him earlier because He loved him too much.

Till the day when we shall meet again rest in peace dad, I love you.

Ioan Galasiu

In loving memory of Ioan Galasiu, *25.06.1949  +22.12.1989

memyselfandela, 22 December 2013


Lasting Happiness

Lasting happiness… Have you ever wondered what makes happiness last? This question has bloomed in my mind again these days.
Lost in a crowd of strangers I was watching them in the middle of a very nice Christmas party organized by a very generous family. Young people, old people, children, mothers, fathers, some showing off more, some less. Standing in my corner, quiet, like a cat, I have analyzed their gestures, their interests, the likeliness for some to gather and some to not to stand each other. I have listened all evening to really interesting conversations in which some have made me angry with their lack of respect and others have amazed me with their fantastic knowledge and passion.
I find it always fascinating to lose myself in a gathering of people. I don’t find it always necessary to completely open in front of people I don’t know. I cannot explain why, but I tend to join the conversation on selective bases, and it may be that I am looking for a passion and depth in the person I talk to. I know many things, maybe different things, maybe I will never fit in the profile many would expect, maybe most would not be able to even perceive the poetry I have seen in this life.
I was looking at that crowd of people and I tried with my curious mind to read beyond the appearances. One could see the couples that were happy, and opposite the couples that had problems. The care some had for each other and the indifference that thrived in others. Some were there just because they were dying of curiosity. Some had followed their partner just to avoid a scandal. Some because they had to come as neighbors. Some because they are related to the owner of the house. Some because it’s nice to take advantage of a good food or great drinks. Some were strangers with far away roots. Some were people who lived there all their life. Some faces were emotionless. Some were preoccupied with several worries at the same time. Some ready to dance. Some dead tired. Some were there only to say hello and be polite. Some came too late. Some left too early. Some invisible. Some flashy.
In all this puzzle of souls, I wondered though how many have been happy. Genuinely happy. And I think that the only happy ones there were those who didn’t come for the food or drinks or gossip or feeding their ego, but for the privilege of being alive. The happy ones were the ones with joy in their heart. The ones that have sacrificed time and effort to make others happy. The happy ones were the ones that didn’t care about how tall the Christmas tree was or how expensive was the food. The happy ones are the ones that had something to celebrate. The ones that have hope and love in their heart. The ones that have lost many battles but never the war.
When you think you would like to be happy forever the answer is very simple. Get back to your passions, to your blessings, to your hope. No two people are the same. Be proud of who you are. Be proud of being unique in the big crowd. Does it matter that you are not the Beauty Queen or the Super Man in that crowd? No, it definitely doesn’t. Deep inside even they have big sad unspoken problems, they just happen to wear beautiful masks.

True happiness is the celebration of your blessings and of who you really are. 😀

"I love your eyes, my dear
Their splendid sparkling fire
When suddenly you raise them so
To cast a swift embracing glance
Like lightning flashing in the sky
But there's a charm that is greater still
When my love's eyes are lowered
When all is fired by passion's kiss
And through the downcast lashes
I see the dull flame of desire."

Dull Flame Of Desire, Fyodor Tyutchev
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600 words, memyselfandela, December 2013

The Borough Market

Tic-  tac. The clock marks the passing of another second. Tic-  tac. People rush to work early in the morning. Tic- tac. The fight against the clock starts for many people. Some rushing to arrive to a certain place, but some striving to make the best out of their little space. Tic- tac. The Shard watches silent over the crowds that flood the city.

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Not far away, on the narrow streets you can hear the Borough Market slowly waking up. Countless merchants begin to unpack their fresh goods.  The chutney jar is neighbor to the boar sausage, the Levant lamb finds peacefully place next to the sea bass, while the simmering pot spreads around an incredible taste of cooked food. It smells like sweets, then as you go further like fish, like bread, like soup and fruits and jams. One can find a bazaar of everything and anything, from Turkish delight to Christmas chocolate, from cheese to olive oil, from veggies to fruits.

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As the light pierces the darkness a tiny pub welcomes the first clients, and while they indulge in their hot coffee fruit juices await for their customers few steps further. Young students bake bread, young chefs cook the lunch, young drivers deliver food, young ladies sell candies, old ladies sell jam, old gentlemen sell game. Countless merchandises await to be taken in or carefully arranged on the stands.

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It is impossible to step in this place and not feel the atmosphere. The selling atmosphere, the Christmas atmosphere but also the history. Crossing through the market I could not help but think how many generations have lived, sold, got born, died close to this market. It’s a place in the heart of London that has seen many people come and go, each one of them with another story.
Fur trees and decoration await for the holy night when everybody will be home enjoying Christmas. Fragile orchids and wrapped roses await in the cold of the morning for the warm hand that could carry them home.IMG_9371IMG_9396

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I have always had a weakness for the open market, and I had to stop here today just to remember why. It’s because beyond all wrappings and fuss here one can see, smell and taste life itself. Thank you Borough Market for this new slice of life you have offered me today. There could never be a right price tag attached to it.

IMG_9438 IMG_9501400 words, memyselfandela, December 2013

Photos: memyselfandela, December 2013


ROMANIA ROCKS!!! ROMANIA E MINUNATA !!!

Today is the 1st of December, National Day of Romania. / Azi e 1 Decembrie, Ziua Nationala a Romaniei.

I may be far away with my body but today, as I go to work, I will show a whole world my passion. I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve today, I wear it in the open fully exposed! 😀 / Poate ca sunt departe cu trupul dar astazi, cand merg la servici, voi arata unei lumi intregi pasiunea mea. Nu imi deschid inima azi, ci o port la vedere complet expusa! 😀

Happy Birthday Romanians!!!  / La Multi Ani Romani!!!
I Love You Romania!!! You Simply Rock!!!  / Te iubesc Romania!!! Esti pur si simplu minunata!!!

Romania rocks

Photo: memyselfandela December 2013