Sunday, May 3, 2015

Growing up just means being honest.

It’s been 4 months since I’ve written something that mattered to me.
It’s been 4 months since the last time I knew how I felt about life.
It’s the countdown, you know?
The countdown of leaving a place?
You just lay back and count the days to say goodbye.
Why do goodbyes even exist?
Whatever hurts us should be vanished
Aren’t we supposed to be the most powerful species on this planet?
Why don’t we have a cure for those?

Thoughts thought while drinking a cup of jasmine tea.

Hello everyone! Long time no see (or wrote)!
I'm back in Greece. The place I like to call home even thought it has nothing to do with the place but the people who live here? This place! So yes, I'm back home. As you probably already know or guessed.

Right now I'm located in my bed, lying. It's 11:46am, I woke up half an hour ago, spoke with my love on the phone (for those who don't know, he is in the Greek Army for 9 months so I barely see him! At least we are on the same island, oh well), went downstairs (meaning, to our kitchen) made some jasmine tea, toasted a croissant, and came back to my room thinking that I want to do something productive today.
As I sat in my bed in my pajamas, with that feeling of freedom when you're not wearing a bra, while I drank that jasmine tea, I said to myself: Oh, I miss New York. And I smiled.

Next move: I spat some tea and thought to myself (again): How can you miss a place you where two weeks ago and while you where there, the only thing you could think of was leaving it?!

Here’s to strong women. May we know them.May we raise them. May we be them.

Here’s to strong women. May we know them.May we raise them. May we be them.

I read this quote on tumblr not too long ago and I've done some research but couldn't find who wrote or said it. But as a matter of fact, it doesn't really matter because it's not something smart or poetic. It's just something right.It's something that we should say everyday before we eat instead of a prayer.

I'm just kidding, of course. No one has the time or the patience to do anything when he has food in front of him.

  Whatever. 

After I read this post I saw this picture by accident still having these words on my mind. I still remember that day even thought I don't remember a lot of things from my childhood. It's at a place my family owns near the beach in Rhodes. My mom drove as there to have a picnic and she is the one who took the picture. From left to right, is my grandmother, her best friend and dress maker and then it's little me.

I can see how different things are now. 

Most of this place is swollen by the sea.

 And my grandmother is really sick. 

And her best friend is sleeping. 

And I don't wear pink anymore. 

This post isn't a sad post though. Wait.

NYC Photo Diary | Chinatown | 16 Nov 2014

Hello everyone! So my mom is in town and I'm happy because I have someone to go with to all the cool places in New York that I wanted to go or to show her little treasures that I've already found on my short stay here!
In Manhattan you can go every single day of your life to a different place and that's one of the things that I love so much!
This Sunday we went to Chinatown and my mom was disappointed because once we got there she told me "Faidra, that's not how we see it in the movies!" but you know, it was fun, we walked and ate Chinese food and drunk bubble tea and we spent some mother-daughter time. It was a good day!

Dear someone who is reading my blog..

Dear someone who is reading my blog,

I tried to write something new for you.
I've written down the first sentence of this post more times than I can count.
My delete button must really hate me..
but the truth is, I don't have something to write that I haven't written before.
It's not that my life is the same, or that my thoughts are the same everyday.
It's just the fact that I don't feel like talking about me,
and I have written too much already about my passions.
The things I love, the people I love, or the things that bother me
are the things that inspire me to write. And the truth is that,
I don't want to write about my love anymore.
I've written poems about it, I cried about distance,
I'm crying about distance still... Almost every day
I painted my love and I'm talking about it when people tell me to describe myself
because it is a part of me.
I just feel like I have to settle down for a little while.