Some moments, while doing the most normal and habitual activities, I’ll hear or see something distracting and then a part of me awakes and for a split second all I’m thinking is I’m human. 
I become terribly aware of my existence. sometimes, I’ll ball my fists and then extend my fingers, wonder how it’s all happening, why the mind works the way that it does. it’s as if I’ve turned into some twenty-something-infant, completely engrossed in all that I am. the human experience is a fascinating one, for sure.

Elle s'appelait Sarah

After browsing at imdb.com searching for some movies worth watching. "Sarah's key" movie trailer literally caught my attention. So I click on wikipedia for more details about the movie (well, when it comes to movies I have quite a selective manner). It turned out it's an adaptation of the novel "Elle s'appelait Sarah" by Tatiana de Rosnay, a French writer with English, French and Russian descent.

It's a great novel indeed. The true historical story is very interesting and reading this was chilling, suspenseful, devastating, heartbreaking and heartwarming. It's about loss and the destructive power of secrets, both of which are subjects close to my heart. So it was very emotionally powerful for me. I must also say, that this book ripped my heart into tiny pieces (I'm an incredibly sensitive scorpio indeed :p )
The tale seemed mostly authentic, but also occasionally something rang slightly off but I didn't take note and those moments were ones I forgot because the story as a whole rang true. It is one of those tales made as vivid by fiction as by non-fiction account, not diluted at all by the parallel story lines.

I thought that "Tatiana de Rosnay" created perfect cadence in her writing style. I LOVED IT. I read it in one and a half month (I like to take my time reading, to make serious connection with it ^_^) as I was loathe to put it down today.

This is now one of my treasured books :)

And the movie ??? NOT really worth watching, I must say, but I've watched it just out of my curiosity. compared to the book the movie scripts were poorly written and bad acted. and the worse is; the director, Gilles Paquet-Brenner didn't put enough "suspenseful-ness" (is this word even exist?) and enthusiasm into the movie, changed quite a lot of plot and scenes from the novel which I found  really disappointing. They should've let me do the job.  :D

 Elle s'appelait Sarah, a highly recommended novel






Besser geht nicht



Das Leben ist nur ein Moment
Und wer den Anfang und das Ende kennt
der wei? es geht nur darum
Sind wir glucklich
Was konnen wir fureinander tun
Wir lassen alle Waffen ruhn
Und wunschen uns wir waren alle glucklich
Der Himmel wird weit
Alle Traume sind getraumt und wahr
Das ist die Magie, zwischen uns
Die kam und blieb
Und darum wei? ich…
Besser geht’s nicht, schau nur hin
Das ist Leben, wir sind drin
Besser geht’s nicht, wir sind da
Auch im Dunkeln wird uns klar
Keine Angst vorm nachsten Sturm
Spring mit mir auf den hochsten Turm
Besser geht’s nicht, jetzt und hier
Ich vertrau dir und du vertraust mir…
Die Wiege zwischen Kopf und Herz
Geht niemand ohne schmerz
Und zwischendurch verliert man
Mal die Nerven
Wir suchen Wahrheit, suchen Halt
Wir sind jung und wir sind alt
Und manche konnen
Durch das Weltall surfen

This song never fails to lift my mood ^_^


The scars

Love, your arrow pierced my heart.

And at that moment I realized: sometimes gaining love is just as painful as losing it. If you've ever fallen in it, you know. A broken heart is what happens when that arrow gets ripped out later and Cupid runs away laughing while you bleed out that jagged hole.

If the arrow's big enough with a tip sharp enough, your heart just shatters into a million shards, then. You can try to put it back together but the pieces morph and metastasize and they'll never fit with each other the same way again, like that jigsaw puzzle you spilled your glass of milk on when you were five and you cried over it then. And you still do. We're always told we shouldn't but we do. We always do.

If your heart gets shot through again best case scenario it staunches the bleeding to slow trickle but it never heals the wound. The edges will never meet to close it up completely and the ache will fade but you'll still feel a pain, sharp and acute like broken glass in your damn soul, for time to time.

The End

I'm sorry this is not a happy tale. It wasn't told by a fairy.





Summer 2011

L'esprit de l'escalier:
The feeling you get after leaving a conversation, when you think of the things you should of said.

6 Types of Love



Eros
a passionate physical and emotional love based on aesthetic enjoyment; stereotype of romantic love
*** 

Ludus 
a love that is played as a game or sport; conquest; may have multiple partners at once
*** 

Storge
an affectionate love that slowly develops from friendship, based on similarity
*** 

Pragma 
love that is driven by the head, not the heart
*** 

Mania
obsessive love; experience great emotional highs and lows; very possessive and often jealous lovers
*** 

Agape
selfless altruistic love; spiritual

(Source: Wikipedia) 

Mon petit prince

 We both enjoys reading and listening to Luigi Boccherini.

I felt him twirl my hair through his fingers, I looked over because I thought he was sleeping. He asked me with a little smile on his face, "Mommy, does your hair always smells like berries ?"

Happy birthday lil sis


Back then when she was 14. To that day there has never been anything that has seemed so frightening to me than seeing my little sister grow up in the blink of an eye. However stupid it sounds it's every bit of the truth. I've faced some terrible things, I've been mugged but I swear it came as such a shock to me when she picked up that tube of dark black mascara on the first day of starting high school. 

"What are you doing?" I asked her looking up from the book I was reading for my baby boy 
Adam who was sitting on my lap.

"I want to try it out. I'm getting older now, starting a new school so I want to start looking older too." She told me. She then focused her attention on the mirror in front of her and opened the tube. Carefully she tried to wipe her eyelashes with the black liquid. She moaned, not able to do it but it wasn't like my little sister to give up so quickly. So she tried again, then again. Wiping off the mess she made with my make-up removing wipes.

"Here let me do it." I said giving up. I put Adam down carefully in his baby cot and took the tube out of her hand. She sighed. "You'll get the hang of it soon enough" I told her skillfully covering her eyelashes. When I was done, she looked in the mirror again and a small smile crossed her face. I smiled too.

"Thank you." She smiled.

"No problem, you look gorgeous."

With that she made her way down the stairs, new school bag on her shoulder and her school uniform on. I stared after her, I couldn't help the water that was filling my eyes.

"Bye!" She shouted from downstairs.

"Bye." I shouted back to her. "Have a good first day!" That's when the door shut. It almost symbolised the door closing on the little girl she was leaving behind.

My shrink's told me it’s best 

to think with my head.

“As for my heart?”

“Well, without it, you’re dead.”

Poetry for the blind




Everything that happened 
was such a beautiful mistake,
a lapse in judgement that
I wouldn’t regret - there 
wasn’t a respite in my 
passions and I had lost 
control of my fingertips 
as they slid over your skin
reading your body like 
braille, poetry for the blind

Some serious Waffle domination in the morning <3

The moon loves to watch me get satisfied


The moon is fucking perfect tonight. I can’t take my eyes off it.
That moment you’re alone with someone… touching them, dryly, over and over. The rubbing, the faint moaning. Where you flex and your muscles call out for a lingering touch, their fingers dragging over your skin so slowly… as you shriek in delight… you want them so badly, you just can’t fight… you cave in, bringing them closer, edging the darkness in a puddle of pores.

.Fictionally speaking.


Thank You


Time to turn the next page.

It had been a short,
Most intense & Beautiful
 chapter in my life.
& I’m Thankful

vous serez toujours dans mon coeur
<3<3<3




Endless amount of Love right here at my fingertips.
bisou bisou

Books

Books seems to fill me with the capacity to feel an emotion I have never, and may never feel again. They have such beautiful and momentary influence on our hearts. They are but words on lifeless pages yet they introduce some new aspect in our souls that we have not yet discovered on our own. What power they possess to love that which is unlovable, to see that which is unseen, to feel that which is hidden! How life would be meaningless without them!

Sometimes Love becomes irrelevant.
What the fuck do you do then?
Here, I'll answer my own question:
Fuck the fuck off. 

It always a trick,
A firefly mistaken for magic.

It’s the people who don’t speak up who often have the most to say



If they had the courage to say it, then could you relate? It’s the people who always smile, who actually 
have more to be sad about than you would ever think; the people who seem utterly, so brilliantly perfect, who struggle the most inside. When was the last time you actually stopped to think about someone else, over yourself? Time may afford you only the shortest minute to stop walking and smile at the stranger who always seems alone, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do more. Our life is nothing more than exchanging Hello’s and Goodbye’s with the people who come in, then go out. But the fleeting moment when you have one of those exchanges with a stranger, is the most thoughtful, most wistful, and most beautiful memory that will keep you thinking, even when you don’t realize it. In a few years when you’re sitting in the train with the melting rain trickling down the windows, with strangers around you with their heads tilted into their books, with the quiet murmur of chatter through the dusty air, is when you think back to that very moment, that very same moment, when your eyes met that stranger’s, and you will wish you had said more. That you had asked for a name. A contact detail. Not just remembering that they were holding a guitar, or that they had the deepest grey eyes, or they had the strangest, most enchanting smile you had ever seen.


1 Week !!

His Question: "Why do girls like you always have a boyfriend?" 
My answer: "Because I have acute nymphomania and my own brewery.


I wouldn't even be surprised, like ... If I woke up in an entirely different
country tomorrow. I bet there are times when the universe just forget where you're supposed 
to be, you know?  maybe every once and again? ever since I was a little kid
I thought everyone was disappearing and reappearing every
nanosecond, like faster than I could blink. I mean what if you just wound up plunked in the wrong
place? I bet the universe did that a whole bunch, like before it got the hang of things.

HOLY FUCK !!! I think that's what happen to the dinosaurs !!!

Marie Antoinette

Topless Marie Antoinette 


For all the follies and foibles of my romantic self, I know at the heart of the matter 
is that you really do need to let go to love.
And as much as it may be a cliché upon cliché,
 c’est toujours la même histoire

I think that, the first thing 
you forget about someone is
their voice.

Dear M

Sure, you'll be safe from the inherit harm of existence, safe from love, safe from bruises. But I don't want that. I have never wanted that. I seek, I strive to live, and to not simply be alive. I want to lead my life in a way that leaves my entire existence throbbing with ungarnished vitality, with my veins pulsing with the stories of last night. I want to live life, not carefully but passionately. I will age with scars, and callouses, and cuts, and regrets, and warmth, and hollow spots, and darkened eyes, and misses chances, and dead friends, and promises I kept, and worn photos, and bad credit, and sad, sad stories.

I will be happier than you. Not because I had more, or did more, or saw more, or loved more, or lived more, but because I will have existed apart from that eternal doubt that would otherwise beat at my brain.


 R

Restart

Sometimes in the depth
of seemingly helpless pain
you must try to change.
Even when hope does not shine,
you must try to get back up.

My Passion in baking



I really wanted to come back
with some witty retort,
but my clever's asleep.