"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 22, 2013

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

99

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.

——————————————-

memyselfandela, 2012

 

 

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Image

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

——————————

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