Archive for the ‘Fiction’ Category

Is Your Thinking in This Instance Is Irrelevant?

Posted: April 28, 2013 in Fiction, Musings
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Wise friend,

Here we go again: we had this pleasant conversation, and we started a topic, innocent in its nature. Yes, I know. Each item begins like that, and suddenly it becomes a serious discussion. No facts, no facts, again and again. So the next thing, she mocks me, with that air of superiority, of elitism. Out of nowhere, I said:
“That you don’t get a specific social construct and the fact you also choose to mock and belittle, it means just that you don’t get it, and while running out of arguments, you resort to mockery. Therefore, your thinking in this instance is irrelevant to me”.
We changed subjects. A gorgeous day, this city at its best, comes to a close.
I took it easy today as if I wanted to taste it minute by minute; I lived this day thinking back to essentials (Yes! They Matter!) – I can’t explain motherhood. It’s just an incredible experience. I’m sure I can’t understand fatherhood. I feel blessed for having been a mother.
Miss you!
Lovely Friend,
Good, finally! Miss you, too!
Be wary of insults, mockery and debase. Indeed, one goes there when has lost the arguments. When their case is weak, they mock.
————————-
This last week, the little toddler girl has started opening doors and climbing on everything claimable. Yes! It Matters!

Those You Date

Posted: April 28, 2013 in book; books, communication, epistolary, Fiction, meaning, Musing, opinion, philosophy, relationships
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Sweet Friend,

You wrote you dated a few times and how frustrating it is to feel scrutinised.

Wise Friend,

The men I meet think I’m the one under scrutiny. They don’t know they are under my scrutiny. I didn’t come so far away from home, to stop scrutinising.

Sweet Friend,

I was thinking about the word you used. I know what you mean, though I hope you enjoyed the dates to some extent.

Wise Friend.

What should one do? Take a risk? How else? Be cautious? How else? Go with the flow? How else? Be gullible? How else? Be trustful? How else?

Sweet Friend,

You went there, faraway, to find a husband. Do they want to become husbands more then they want here? How far do you need to go before you can approach the subject even if only as a light, rushed joke?

Wise Friend,

It’s become a “shame on you” to want to know this too soon. A wish that needs to be in secret. A desire to be denied, minimised, and about which to joke. Once upon a time, becoming a husband was a sign of pride in oneself. Not anymore.

Sweet Friend,

What? Do you ask him on the first date?

Wise Friend,

When I feel like “Heck with it?”

Sweet Friend,

How did they react? I would love to be at the next table. Did you see any of them again? Risky filtering I might say. Is it funny?

Wise Friend,

Haha! Ah, it brings me a sense of relief.

Sweet Friend,

My mind is blank. I have no answers for you. Still, I can’t hold back to tell you to enjoy meeting people. Find out about their life and likes. Delight in their little surprises. The rules changed many decades ago. Somehow, still, they need to be relearned again and again.

Shush! Don’t bring it up too soon! You might filter the good ones. Also, sometimes “Heck with it!” Seek their happy side. If he’s moody, say “good-bye!”

I Used to Speak Six Languages. None of Them Perfect, Ever?

Posted: April 28, 2013 in book; books, communication, epistolary, Fiction, meaning, Musing, Musings, opinion, philosophy, relationships
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Sensitive Friend,

I used to speak six languages: none of them perfect, ever. Three have disappeared, not wholly, almost gone. I can order a sandwich and maybe listen to get what you mean – to some point. Therefore, I love when people correct me in either of my top three languages: humor, gentleness help.

Sometimes I use words, confident that I’m clear. Later I see, from the reaction of the other, that I used an improper word. I mean inappropriate: it’s either a bit too sexy in that part of the world or hurting feelings in another. In my mind, the word or expression is clear, soft and caring.

So I ask you to help me, and your response is to stay with the initial wording, as you understand what I meant and also you enjoy the mishap. You prefer me not to correct anything as thus I would deviate into being too correct with the words I use. How am I going to win the battle of languages and of a brain that insists on grasping a language at a maximum of 83.66%-95.21%?

So here it is: I used “the importance given to this subject is not suitable to…”. I’m asking you: Shall I use “undeserved importance”?

Wise Friend,

No, because when you use the new word, it brings in a falsity, which denigrates and makes the core of your idea unnatural. Then, I get confused, and I lose what you’re referring to, and then I wonder why you mention whatever new thing might show up.

Maybe you thought about the word “forbidden,” but this is debatable as well.

When Tenderness Comes Too Late?

Posted: April 21, 2013 in book; books, epistolary, Fiction, Musing, Musings, opinion, philosophy, relationships
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Dearest Friend,

Delauney’s painting – Sometimes I look at it, and it seems as agitated as our souls right now. A few minutes later, I look again, and I see peace and quiet, but with energy and fire. Somehow it represents us: while it scares me, it calms me as well, and it gives me joy, too. Be happy; it’s your birthday.

Delauney

Wise Friend,

I’m so far. I wish I would be able to touch you so slightly, so lightly. Happy birthday and many happy returns – please laugh a lot with your beautiful laughter.

You brought me a fantastic year. I wish you goodness and a comfortable life, and to never regret that gift so loaded, so pregnant. Whatever has happened, our love, may it be a sign of only good things to come to you.

Dearest Friend,

Now, don’t blame me. What possibilities, do you think that could have crossed my mind back then? After two years, I left him. I was nine years younger than you, and I was so immature.

How was it possible that I was there for those years, and we didn’t ‘know’ each one about the other and each one for the other? Has life toyed with us, like a joke? What did it want from us to prove?

That we’re two people kind and caring? I have no idea if I would have reacted to your signs. I responded to the warmth in your voice, at sunset, looking both of us over that valley I love. I acted, not as an adult, but as a little child to whom somebody finally told how valuable might be.

Wise Friend,

Maybe if you had persisted, I would have been intoxicated. It’s your fault you moved me too late and too fast. I left that place, the beloved country, with your words in my soul, with the warmth of your voice, feeling to some extent the attraction you had felt, not more than that.

You say you kept pushing the gas pedal, knowingly that the engine was not on. Suddenly the engine started, and we forgot reason. I, like you, had not imagined this was possible, even if deep down maybe I, like you, knew it was.

Why not, if we knew this is what we wanted, then why no other person who wanted the same showed up?

Are You Able to Carry a Stone Within Your Heart?

Posted: April 21, 2013 in book; books, epistolary, Fiction, Musing, Musings, opinion, philosophy, relationships, Uncategorized
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Wise Friend,

Inner peace is inner, and only we can give it to us. How? Sometimes, I think that I found the formula. Later I wake up to the fact that I forgot to apply it. However, so much depends on us and our attitude.

Dearest Friend,

It wasn’t about carrying a stone within my heart. I’m able to carry heart stones. It was about, what you believed, and what I thought that you understood. I couldn’t let it happen between us. At least for now.

Wise Friend,

Now, there are two people inside me. I live with the feeling that I’m hiding something from you, but we have no choice. I’m afraid that you won’t like any longer the person I’m now.

I clench my teeth and continue with what we started, as it’s decent, or maybe it’s a must, or it’s just wise; this is called “looking after myself.”

I’m obsessed with the thought that, by being quiet, I lie to you, I let you believe something else. I’m not at peace; I don’t want to lose you. I tell my self I don’t have you anyway, such was life; this is what you decided. Later, I say myself that we both decided; then I’m too tired, I give up for a few days to look after the other person within me…

We’re not yet used to not connecting for two weeks. Later music follows, I go to a play, a show, a museum, walking, or I drive for a more extended stretch or maybe just that time arrived again to feel torn between the two people inside me.

Dearest Friend,

I know what you say. With whom are you comparing these group of people? They are not perfect, but overall they behave like good strong, kind, and reliable people. It’s so incredible that the others look at them, at their history and what they’ve achieved and continuously demonise them. Did they ever err? Certainly, they did! Like whom would they be? Please show me the group.

Wise Friend,

There is a toddler in my life. I miss her. I miss putting my head on the back of her neck and hear her laughter.

When she was here, visiting, I looked after her for a few hours. We played together. She showed me what to press on her toys, pressing my hand to push.

Her parents went out. She wasn’t crying, though very quiet and sad. Then she fell asleep in my arms.

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