Reading lines

We were sitting around the table as the click clacks of forks and knives had made their ways into conversations and filled-in the occasional silence of food chews. My aunt spoke loudly as she usually does, and my grandmother listened and nodded as she always does. An unimportant phone call interrupted my aunt’s hilarious subject, to then start talking about a certain gallery or museum she went to. Oh right I REMEMBER, it was a project made by physicians? I don’t even know.

Point is, the project involved taking pictures of elderly people’s faces.

The way she described it almost made me tear up. I felt her eyes sparkle for a little  I’m sure of it.

They took the pictures and framed them (or at least that’s how i imagined it) and focused on the beauty of an old face, scarred and almost hand-drawn. I could imagine how each crack told a story, how the lines next to my grandmother’s eyes indicated her smiling for so long, how i would like to know what it was that made her smile so much and what she saw through her now tired eyes. she saw generations grow and children one day getting married and moving into someone else’s loving arms. This house has seen so many moments of joy it’s hard to miss the sheer the happiness that bounces off the walls. This house doesn’t lie. If I could speak to these doors we’ll have a long heartfelt conversation because I grew up here. Years ago I was sleeping on that same bed when I was half my size now, and I got comfy with the same sheets I wrapped myself around with for years, today. How things don’t change even when they do. You leave home and all you do is want to see it one more time and smell the coffee in the morning one more time and see your grandmother standing on the terrace just a few more times so you could be sure that memory will be encrypted in your brain so well you remember details like the weather and the time and who it was your grandmother waved at from the balcony. I know it here so well, all so familiar to the point that I still remember the crisscross patterns of the laced sheets my grandmother still puts on the small wooden tables, hinted with fairly tiny bruises from being moved too quickly or dropped by a cousin at some point (the tables, that is). The carpets feel the same on your feet, and you never get tired of watching that pattern trying to figure out what animal it was and where it was going and why it looks so scary on the carpet. My brother and I used to make games off the big triangles we saw on it. I can still hear us laughing for no apparent reason, which felt like the best reason of course.

Every little piece of this house somehow ended up giving me a little piece of memory. A flash really, that comes by with particular smells or a certain laugh. The cracks on the walls, just like the one’s on my grandmother’s face and hands, have seen happiness and love and went through years on with generations of difference and similarity. The couches know me more than quite a few people. They’ve seen me cry and sob, laugh hysterically and get angry. They’ve seen me grown up and adapted to my body getting bigger. Somehow the couch always fit me, then and know, and it always will.




Time should give us more time sometimes

I wish time would be stuck on 9:19 pm right now.


Even when I’m writing I feel like time is passing by in a flash, I always need to be doing something else, studying, projects, connecting, talking, thinking. Everything takes up so much time. Just stop the clock right now and watch for a moment. Things don’t have to literally stop. It’s not a bird-just-stopped-in-mid-air type of moment. It’s more that man in the suit suddenly doesn’t seem so tense to get to wherever he’s going, or that lady waiting in front of the school finally stopped looking at her watch so much. A lot of things would be different if time stopped just right now. Instead of writing for like five minutes I’d write for days.  Sometimes time should give us some time. Tongue twister much?

Time should give us time to think and to feel. To decide and then re-decide and decide again until you lost track of your decisions and fall right where you need to be. Time should stop, and give you time to think about the people you haven’t thought of in a long time. It’s not that you don’t care for them anymore, you still smile when you hear of them, but you’ve been racing lately and too tired at night to start anything. So sleep it off till the next month or year until you forget the number you used to know by heart and the last name you’ve learnt to pronounce in different ways and accents.

If time should stop, let it give you some time to feel proud of yourself for all you’ve accomplished, and forgive yourself from the mistakes you’ve learnt to let pass by in your mind because you could give no more effort into regret. Let’s keep in mind it’s still 9:19pm. Time is being very generous by giving you time to realize you were wrong at one point, to know that sometimes you should be wrong. Think of that song that makes you want to shut everyone up and make them listen, at 9:19pm, to a song that could play on for hours without you noticing it anymore, it turned into a part of your environment. It is your chairs and your bed, your mug and nightlight. it’s that stack of papers you keep on your desk, it’s your favorite pair of shoes. It’s in the oxygen you’re letting into your lungs right this moment while you’re reading. It’s the hiccup you wanted rid of last week. Oh how nice it would feel, to be and stay at 9:19pm.

I’m listening to that song right now and I bet you can hear it too.

I  hope you can anyways.

A few things circumstances can teach you.

There are things circumstances teach you.
I thought to myself under the hot water of my cold bathroom at 5 in the morning.
I have never been more satisfied in this room until this dark day. I woke up during the early hours of the “ams” hoping to put an end to my sleepiness. My moments of pleasure have altered into directions I hadn’t given much importance to before. Like how it’s okay, no matter how extremely tired you are, to wake up at the peek of morning, the ass of daylight, just to feel hot water dripping on your shoulders. I had forgotten how nice it was to have fog showering with you, sticking on the mirror and the walls. I could breathe in the hot air this morning and it felt undeniably satisfying. Eyes still hadn’t gotten used to the harsh light bulbs yet but I didn’t really care.
*There are things circumstances teach you, like how the best things for your body, are sometimes things of which you had not thought of, that do so much good to every freckle on your arms: who knew, what didn’t smell or look so good, actually did more favors to your pours in a couple of minutes, than colored and scented products did so in years time. *A toast to Local soaps*
*There are things circumstances teach you.
Like how depressed a population can get when it’s rained out of its youth and free spirit. I’ve never noticed skies this gray and such emotionless expressions on faces.

*Circumstances might lead you to disappointing results from people you thought you knew well enough to share a donut with, to ask about their day and actually mean it.
*Circumstances are here to teach you how you have to let go of the oh-so-loved-and-eccentric fashion sense of yours sometimes, to be looked at as “professional”. I never thought I’d turn down the chance of wearing my hu-uge black necklace I keep in my drawers, or not shine my nails in green lime color on a hot day.
*Circumstances will make you appreciate another country that has lent you its roads, and let you live under its roofs, sheltering you from nature’s fury. That has taught you the importance of individuals, and their carelessness too. The value of the law and all its derives. That has lent you its moon and its stars, its long street night-lights and new smells, its original cuisine and its own new vision of a brighter future for you. You better appreciate every plant you come across, every stop sign and headlight! Every entrance card and payment bill.
*Amongst other things, circumstances will assure you that bread doesn’t last for longer than a month, food won’t magically stay edible when it’s in the fridge for almost a century, almost. People won’t always clean after you when you don’t have the time, just pick up a broom and stop whining it’ll be over before you know it.

Sleep like a Queen

I’ve just spent the last two hours or so with my “very tall very loud” neighbor.

He on his dark colored laptop, and I on my bright pink one.

Each of us focusing on our present to-dos, and occasionally speaking to one another about music and notes, without looking at each other. Both of us, not so similar, but similarly emboxed behind our bright rectangular screens.

Most people in university might tell you they’ve spent their evening out with friends, at a restaurant, at someone’s house, or just home not doing much. 

We were here, bored out of our minds, so we decided to STRETCH.

Some reminders of the past leg injuries he’s had, lead us to a great hour and a half of stretching and semi-sporting. How many people do you find, on a plain week evening, almost midnight, stretching for roughly an hour in their room.

From necks, to shoulders, arms to the tips of every finger. Then come to the spinal column, our delicate “echelle” , that we were swaying  safely, from right to left , up to the cieling and down to the floor. As we hear the small cracks in between our stretches, it feels like our bodies are breathing from the inside. Not your usual inhale-exhale. It’s a heap of breath heard from indoors. A crunching sound really, that confirming you’re alive 🙂  Your body feels your moves and synchronizes with them. It reacts when you push it too hard, and heals when you allow it to rest. It is a great feeling.  A healthy feeling, one that some people lost. What to do when your temple, your home or roof is cracked? 

So as the long minutes pass by. Silence took over. Instead of talking about whatever was troubling our minds, from work to casualties. We focused on listening to our bodies instead of listening to each other. I spoke without saying a word and I listened to myself, and to the wind blowing through my temple’s long wide, pre-constructed windows, my walls and my ceiling.

I noticed my wrists were too weak. They shook for help. For support and mostly relief from pressure.  

After that while. We noticed the time. “Loud and proud” left and I stayed. I got up and felt like my legs were lighter. Like my steps took charge on the floor, stomped firmly, stood their ground. My walls were up again. Feeling powerful in ones body is such an over-powering and proud moment. 

I walk back to bed. I’m sleeping like a Queen tonight.

October 24th 2013



Okay so that was a flash from the past, but seriously though taking care of your body is essential. I didn’t pay much attention to it at first, but after that night I tend to stretch every now and then, and each time feels better than the previous one.