Dare to Dream

Thursday, 29 December 2011


The sun rises.
As always.
Shall I rise?
If I don't know,
then who does?

Life's sharp knives stuck into my chest.
As always.
You can see me.
I can not.

How do I look?
Your eyes shall become my reality.
A liar you are.

Go hide against the rainbow.
I'll come.
Be patient my love.
I shall not be late.

Rip my heart off.
I'll let you. as always.
The question has been answered.
I shall rise.
I'll rise.
See you across the rainbow.
See you across our Neverland.


Saturday, 24 December 2011

The sun-

But when his hair, blond as dry leaves, turned white
and his beautiful and passionate eyes which once were the color of boughs
on lemon trees in winter or of the shallow sea became dull,
when he felt in his veins a winter that has no spring,
Fate bought him back to the lonean Sea.
Everything was the same as it had been before.
But he was not the same and he did not recognize the sunny shores
of the joyous and passionate Ionean Sea!
Grieving he closed his eyes and gazed deeply into himself.
And there! there he saw that same sun of the past, that strange
and enormous sun which gave life to all things around him and the fragrance
of dreams to the leaves, and made him see the white and cold blood flow through
the serene stone of statues, and made him live and suffer with the deep and powerful passions of men.
It was the SUN OF YOUTH that had passed, a sun which alone enlightened the depth and twilight of his soul, and which bestowed upon all it illuminated the strange and magic beauty of Illusion.

For things appear as the soul perceives them.

-Milan Rakic- The sun.

Λόγια όμορφα, με νόημα, με κάτι που με έκανε να διαβάσω αυτό το κείμενο πάνω από πέντε φορές.
Χρόνος... περίεργο πράγμα. Σε φοβάμαι άτιμε.
Κάθε βράδυ που πάω τα μάτια μου να κλείσω, ξέρω πως κάπου παραμονεύεις.
Ξέρω ότι την επόμενη μέρα μπορώ να ξυπνήσω και να δω τα πράγματα διαφορετικά.
Έχασα χρόνια, έχασα στιγμές.
Στιγμές που πίσω, δυστυχώς δε μπορώ να φέρω.
Το τώρα, με τα δευτερόλεπτα που περνάνε, μετατρέπεται σε πριν.
Και εσύ, μ'ένα αχαυνές βλέμμα και με ορθάνοιχτα μάτια καταλαβαίνεις ότι
τα πάντα είναι στιγμές, που χάνονται και που πεθαίνουν στο δευτερόλεπτο.
Ανύμπορος σαν είσαι... τι κάνεις;
Ξέρει κανείς;

Sunday, 18 December 2011

Ο καθένας είναι διαφορετικός.
Ο καθένας φωτίζει τα σκοτεινά σοκάκια της ζωής με το χαμόγελο του χαρακτήρα του.
Ο καθένας δρα, σκέφτεται, πιστεύει διαφορετικά.
Όλοι είναι διαφορετικόι, αλλά μ'έναν τρόπο όλοι ταυτόχρονα είναι ίδιοι.



My photo
Κάθε φορά που χάνομαι μεσά στις σκέψεις τρελλένομαι... όχι πως με ενοχλεί, όχι. Απλώς στο χαρτί ΞΕΣΠΑΩ