Story of A Rebel

Did it ever happened to look in the mirror and wonder who is the shadow staring right back at you? Who is that, looking so much alike yourself, mirroring your gestured, the very light in your eyes?

Is it you? Or it's some twin of yours, long lost, but that can still empathize with your heart?

Sincerely, I have no idea of what I'm talking here. I have no idea if it's either a strange truth or just the wild imagination of a girl locked inside herself for too long. What I do know is that now, at the end of the year, I have taken a decision: never again to be ashamed of myself. I am who I am and I am very good actually at being myself!

I might be broken on the inside, but I will not be tamed! I will gather all the pieces and glue them back together - glue myself together until I am whole again. It doesn't matter what they think they know about me or what they think they see. It matter what I know and how I feel. And I not inferior to anyone!

Young and broken - I've been like this ever since I can remember myself. Unwanted, uncalled, disliked, a garbage of a kid. And now... now I'm broke. I'm left with no love on the inside, nothing to give, nothing to fill my heart. I spent it all recklessly, gambled everything on a single event and lost. But I'm no longer scared. It will pass. Love will grow back inside my heart just like the green grass outside my house - even under heavy snow, if you look for it, it's still there, green and fresh, reminding you that there's hope.

I spent my love... so what? I am still wild, still untamed, for no leash is holding me tied to a master. I am free to love and I will love every single being that comes to me, I will be a nice person and a loving, caring friend. I will offer my love to those who want it and I shall never be afraid again.

So, today I'm packing all these boxes, taping them up, writing down years and seconds that seem to be eons away from where I stand right now. I won't lie, it does feel a little empty now that I have everything packed, but all this space on the inside, all these chambers shall be filled with better memories, laughter and nights spent with people that love me back - my cat... or my family, my friends, all the people I got to know more or less.

The mirror shows me a kid who's still afraid of the darkness. And I wish I could tell her that everything is alright, be her friend when all the others will turn their backs on her. But how can I do it when I'm immobilized by this sadness? For I know that she knows how years who passed never come back... just like my spent love. It will grow back, probably more powerful than before, but it will be cautious and mature. It will lose the recklessness of youth.

And once again, I'll be an old soul trapped outside the mirror when all I'll want to do is to hide.

The story of my life is all about how I lost hope...

But I am still untamed. And as long as I can fight, I will raise from my ashes and fight back. 

I will never be defeated! 

I am the Rebel...

Rebel

It wasn't an unheard thing for her to lose her consciousness over that book of hers. With soft fingers hanging from the edges of the hardcovers, her eyes closed, she fell deeper and deeper into the slumber she had avoided for so long. For what was the reason to sleep when dreams were forbidden to her mind?

And yet, she was dreaming. Against all rules, it started from pure white, a crashing whirlpool of pureness that smelled like roses. And suddenly, she was sitting in front of the priest, all dressed in white. It was December 14th and snow could be seen falling outside the windows of the church.

White were her flowers and dress and white was her hair, just like her eyes. She could feel gentle hands holding hers and the husky voice of the priest reading the sermon of what seemed to be a precious day.

No memories were making her smile and yet she knew she was happy. She knew that beyond her incapability of seeing, the man in front of was in love, if not with her poor appearance, then with her humor or maybe, just maybe, with her romantic mind.

No shadows of reality were able to break through the tall walls of the church, so she rested for a while inside there as she could hear her mother's cry, feeling her soon-to-be husband's affection. Just for a little while she wished everything could be real, that everything could one day come true - her, the girl who brought the endless autumn with her eyes become the bride of Winter and never again feel the fear of darkness.

But as wind howled outside her window, she stirred into her sleep, her eyes lazily opening only to embrace the desolation of a life she never wished for. Nothingness caged between four blue walls, with a bed for rest and a water bottle to survive bitter nightmares.

And yet, she smiled. She was not to be defeated that easily. She was to wake up day after day, confronting everything with a smile on her face, making her own way through the darkness she feared so much. She didn't need anyone to hold her hand even though she could feel fear creeping inside, grabbing her bones and squeezing them so that they'd break. She needn't him to be there, a beacon driving away the shadows of her own heart. For she knew he would have never came when called... so better not hold on expectations.

She was alright. She hummed a little song as she packed the book in the red material, hiding it under her bed, in the miserable hole.

She was a Rebel.

Battle Scars

Suddenly, even her body seemed to heavy for her frail bones. Blood pumping through the veins added only more pain to her already throbbing in pain limbs...

Her armor, all pierced and scratched, twisted and marked by the fire she had to run through - it weighted a ton, suffocating like a metal cage suffocates a claustrophobic. It squeezed her flesh, making the blood flow through the arrow holes that marked her back and shoulders, the right leg. But even so, she doesn't feel like taking it off, 'cause somehow, the weight of it, the feeling of being tightly held together was better than standing bare in the middle of nowhere, with the wind howling all around like wolves with sharp teeth digging in her already bruised and torn flesh.

And then, the sun started appearing somewhere at the horizon, throwing beads of light all around her, touching the ground and bouncing back in the air.

Blood. Blood everywhere: in pools and mud, on burned grass and on her own hands, in her long hair and on her lips. Rusty and some even already dry, it marked the place of a terrible battle. A battle with no wounded or dead but her, a mere silhouette that stood proud in the middle of it all and a woman nonetheless.

There was no winner or defeated for it was but a tired attempt to end everything, to put an end to all the struggle.

She was tired. Tired and sad, unsure of her own destiny. And as the sun rose higher on the winter blue sky, her fingers threw down the last match, feeding mighty flames with bloody grass and dirty ground. 

Yes, she stood there, watched everything from the sidelines as her armor sparkled gloriously in the frozen heat. 

Yes, she stood there, watched everything burn down to mere ashes, her long hair moving in the wind as her fingers grasped the leather straps that kept all that iron around her chest and limbs.

Yes, she stood there, no tear leaving her tired eyes - she had no more to cry.

Cold rushed to her side to bite on her heated skin through the thin shirt that covered her from the upper side of the body to mid-high of her thighs. Steeling teeth woke her to reality as a silhouette arose from the ashes.

"You might want to treat those," he spoke, no care in the world, mocking her scarred body.

"B-But I -"

"Set me on fire? Darling, I never felt more alive! You see, it can't be over until you tell me is over."

In a blink of an eye and he was back to her side, inhaling her skin, touching her cheek, crushing all her determination.

"I wish I never looked, I wish I never touched, I wish I'd stop loving you so much," she murmured against his palm.

"The just leave." It was a devil's order. And all armies of Hell arose at his command as fire mirrored in her eyes.

"It will never be over until you tell me is over."

Alpha.

Omega.

The beginning and the end.

A circle full of battle scars that were to never fade away 'cause she had dared go to war with love...

Death of the Humming Bird

Wherever you are, I wanna go too...

Wherever you go, I wanna come along...

Through your eyes I saw the end of this love. I saw everything right from the beginning, but chose to stay blind. I saw everything written on sand, but chose to step on it. I believed I was strong enough to write my own ending, a proper one, a happy one, a distanced one...

In the darkest places, your voice was the only one that could twinkle like a star, bringing me faith, giving me hope.

When the water was high enough to swallow me, your hand was the only one strong enough to pull me out.

When the fire was closing like a ring around me and eyes were watching, you were one of the few that had faith in me that I'd manage through the ring without getting burnt...

In this whole world, I feel the safest next to you...

In this whole world, I feel the safest when you're around...

It was you that held me together when everything was falling apart, when I felt like dying and wanted to let go. And it was you who made me strong enough to realize that the story was getting not such a nice ending...

And now that I've come to this crossroads, I am to think if I am grateful or sad... 'Cause with a heart like mine, all glued back and broken once again, hate might destroy just about everything. And I don't want to hate you. I want to remember that just for a little while, I was beside you, I walked down the same path as you, I protected the place beside you for the one who's meant to be there forever - not me...

And now we got here, it's a one-way road...

And now we got here, what's there left to say?

In this world, there was one single song I now want to sing and make my voice heard in the suffocating crowd: for a little while, I was happy and I will find my happiness once again, away from you...

Du-ri-ru, du-ri-ru, it's like a humming bird,

Du-ri-ru, du-ri-ru, where should I go from here?

Goodbye My Something'n'Something...

I'm but normal: no superpowers, no special talent to put me in the spotlight. I haven't been all around the world, nor have I weird tastes in matter of music or fashion. I'm plain, boring if you want to put it that way. I hold but my soul and nothing else. A pitiful and scarred beating heart it's all I hold with both my hands.

It's all I could have given to you...

I'm but a simple girl: I've got no power to change the ways of the world and I more than surely lead a boring, eventless life after college. I'll probably be raising cats and read in the evening, sleeping with the lights on, 'cause you know that I fear the darkness lurking outside after dusk. I'll be but small and left behind over and over again. All I'll be left with will be my dreams - beautiful, rising and dying dreams.

It's all I wanted to share with you...

I may be putting down words because I'm young and fearless, but it won't bring me any success later on, it won't turn me into a real writer, no. I'll forever be an obscure writer, hiding underground and using metaphors to hide my soul. I'll be small, but a pebble under your vast sky.

And you'll be shining over me, so distant, so bright...

And even if I want to consider myself important I know there's no way you'll remember me over years. It's bound to be forgotten, buried under dust and left to rotten under the grass of the summer that never got to meet us both... 

Day 1 and I was all confused. A hand offered and it got me all sparkling, running, ephemerally moving down in spirals of smiles and heat.

Day 37 and I was the special one. Friend, you came to me like a torch into the darkness that scared me, like warmth during the blizzard when in fact all you were was a thief. You stole something from me and I still must get my hands all bloody to get it back from you.

And we were already halfway through this story I'm putting down while reminiscing...

Day 45 and I cried for the first time. It's not easy to be me: dreams, hopes, thoughts and smiles - all shattered, all cracked, all crumbling. And for the first time my heart wavered...

Day 59 and once again I cried. It's all fuzzy and confusing, the reason behind all those. But I remember how it ended: a broken vase on the floor, a broken heart in my chest and a closed door.

And before I could grab onto you, I realized...

Day something'n'something and it was all gone, slipped through my fingers, escaped and flew away just like a bird that overcame its fear of the liberty awaiting outside the bars of a rusty cage. You went away like a lake running dry under a hideous heating sun...

And before I could grab onto you, I realized: you were never mine to begin with...

I was maybe too young for you, love...

Or maybe too old?

If She'd Be Gone...

So many come and go.

As the world goes round and round, so many go without getting a chance to say a word, to bid farewell, to just hold the hand of the dear ones.

I'm still a child, a young adult that seeks adventure away from home, away from mother. I sought distance from the only person I trust that I can call in the middle of the night without ever upsetting her, the incredible freedom of adulthood - all away from mother.

It's silly, you know, how I used to think she's an almighty goddess, a powerful being that could ease my pain, rock me to sleep after nightmares, heal my broken heart when the kids outside would push me away from their games, stopping to bring me sweets on her way from work, teaching me that the kittens and all the animals around me need to be pet, not hugged tightly. She used forever young and powerful - immortal.

The hand that guided me thought 19 years of life, the voice that called me, scolded me, taught me wise words, the feet that always brought her back me - they're all getting old, you know?

And here I am, all grown-up now, sitting in the darkness of my mind and trying to imagine a world without mom, a world where she no longer picks up the phone to hear me crying because of a broken heart, a world where she no longer buys me books, a world where I need to really let go of her hand and only remember her from pictures. Such a world... it's unimaginable!

And I fear the day I'll get a phone call to be announced of my loss or even worse, the day I'll have to find heron my own, all cold and pale, her cheek turned away from me forever. I fear that on that day, I'll still be all alone and that I'll have no one to turn to, my mother, to tell her about the pain as sharp as a stabbing knife through my heart. I'm scared of that day because I'll have to be strong and do so many things she does not need, but only to prove the others I'm a decent daughter and strong enough to stand on two - and all I'll ever want would be to lie next to her and feel her caressing me, telling me it will be alright.

And suddenly, everything will stop being alright forever...

I'm scared that I'll forget her, that I'll forget her laughter, her malicious comments, her bubbly aura, her lovely personality, her small figure and incredible strength. I'm afraid I'll be left with only pictures and words like: "She was my mother." or that I'll be left with only dreams in the middle of the night, dreams with old memories I'd have no access to during daylight.

If she's be gone, I'd stop functioning properly as well. Half of me would be dead: the child in me that cries "mother" would be left with no air and choked to death.

If she'd be gone, I'd only want to lie down on the ground and die as well.

If she'd be gone, I wouldn't know how to be any longer.

If she'd be gone, "home" would disappear as well...

So I beg all Heavens above: give me the power to turn back time when the moment comes. Let her stay and never take her away from me!

Waiting...

I've been standing here for some time now, watching lights fasting by, trying to count the shadows and getting everything wrong in the end.

I've been here for so long, singing for deaf ears that I no longer care: that they never look passed my broken strings, that I've been believing in broken love all along, that my fingers are freezing, that winter is here... Winter has come.

I've been here for so long, saw so many that my eyes must have turned blind from all the fights and broken glasses, the screams and bad words escaping bleeding lips. But somehow I still see the lights - pure globes of incandescent passion, warmth passing from finger to finger, from palm to palm, from body to body... Love burning as bright as the sun on the sky.

I've been here for so long that my throat is all dry, leaving me with only the humming. And I turned into a bird, accompanied by broken strings of a black guitar. The song I'm singing for deaf ears is the story that I must not forget, the only thing that really belongs to me: the story of a broken shard.

And winter is here and my fingers feel numb, my breath has turned into white vapors, drawing lines where the sheet of paper was white and erasing words where everything seemed to go wrong.

And night is swallowing everything, making me tremble in the darkness of the corner that hides me. Where do I go? Where do I go from here on? Can I really leave behind my broken strings? Can I really remember walking when I've been standing for such a long time?

And I look ahead of me: there's no you.

Winter is out, so standing right here will be the right thing to do...

Maybe, just maybe you'll take me with you this time...

Part II: He

He -  dried milk on his whiskers and white eyes staring into darkness.

He - the misspelled spell that turned into curse for other hearts.

He - broken bones, yellow skin, dark circles surrounding the eyes and a smile that can barely be noticed on his mean lips; he used to be young.

He - the saviour of Juliette and the one butcher that sliced Romeo's throat on his way to Verona.

He - a secret well kept from all Gods of the Old World, an elixir of a lost nation, hidden under the roots of a wild willow.

He - the carpenter with magic hands, carving and carving into wooden hearts, putting magic into music boxes; he used to live in a whale.

He - a mocking fire burning brighter as years went by him.

He - a traveller.

He - the kid that hugs a kitten to death, crying for the moon and asking for forgiveness when the numb body hangs expressionless and soulless, bending ungainly over his skinny arm; he used to have a soul.

He - it's all broken now: time, memory, smiles and tears, they're all holy spirits, ghosts in old castles made of broken dream.

He - the lost ability of one to put down on paper the moon and sun, bring all together in a circle of immortality.

He - the dance of butterflies, the winter touching the spring; he used to be lost.

He - a still green leaf during mid-autumn.

He - a child with blue eyes and curly hair, darkness and just one light illuminating the whole world; he used to be shallow.

He - "Where do I go?"

He - Christmas all passed and carols can still be heard during midsummer inside his chest, echoing in his rib cage.

He said he was fine. And he lived happily-ever-after, two heartbeats echoing inside of him forever and always...

Part I: She

She - a pair of hands lost in too deep pockets, soaked in fragments of icy shards.

She - two eyes, always looking around with fear, always looking down before anyone could read her clouded mind.

She - a flowery dress worn-out, holes showing bruised skin and blue veins pierced here and there.

She - a pool of teddy bears and balls, a world of wonders where you could get yourself lost if you'd have the courage to stay around long enough for her to let you in.

She - the magic brought from the North, the lights, the cold, the warmth and the soft breeze of a still ocean that hides deep waters under its tranquility.

She - so much warmth that it feels like the center of the Earth moved inside of her rib cage; and nobody would receive it from her.

She - a smile bitten down to blood, hidden behind silenced words.

She - the book that never got to be read because the title wasn't that interesting.

She - an old soul that got lost on its way and remained still for a second to rest, then forgetting the feeling of moving around for eons.

She - centuries of romance written in her eyes and on the hems of her skirts.

She - never remembered, never quite forgotten, always misplaced, never fully understood.

She - the one woman that owned the Heaven and Earth together, the one woman that set them apart.

She - bruises and tears, all fragments of the past brought together in one single, trembling heart; and she's supposed to be fine.

She - a lullaby she'd sing only after midnight, when all demons are out and watching from the corners of her uneven broken heart.

She - a collection of troubles and smiles thrown away.

She - a heart full of desire and dreams.

She had only one and one heart only and even that she gave it away as a present on one snowy day...

Barely Breathing

Coldness leaves her fingers numb as she breathes warmth against her skin. The bus is late once again.

She's holding tight on her plastic bag, wishing it was a warm hand instead, her eyes never leaving the direction from where cars pass zooming by her. It makes her blink as if it's a hard to understand fact, as if someone had just insulted her and she's just too shocked to react. 

Light.

Her eyes perceive it as globes of warmth, glowing and dispersing the darkness all around, bouncing around like multicoloured balls of plastic. But her heart is blind. The light in her eyes does not reach her heart - the poor mechanism could be dead.

Coldness bites her cheeks and there she is, biting it back in the corner of her lips, until rust drips on her tongue like warm honey-dew. She's left once again without any feeling, without the possibility to move forward or backwards. And images come and go flying in front of her eyes and she feels like braking down...

She's been broken so many times that she forgot the feeling of being glued back together. So many times has she been dropped on the floor, carelessly picked up and placed back at the start that her knees are more familiar to the coldness of the ground than the warmth of a sheet. So many times she heard bad words swishing the air like a punishment that now she does not even blink in front of all those piercing cussings and glares.

She's been there and back.

Hell was red and white, but mostly blue.

For she was the nice doll received on Christmas and put through a complete make-over with dripping make-up and chopped hair at the back, with lipstick stains peeling off her rosy cheek. She was the doll that was stripped off her clothes and forgotten in a wooden chest where she first learned the meaning of being alone. She been the favourite toy only to fall in disgrace, like all the Gods of the old Olympus, their lights flickering, forgotten on the bottom of the memory abyss.

She's been the bad guy, the lonely one, the one that would forever walk alone.

She's been there, she's done all that.

And now the bus is late once again. How heartless can one be to let another soul be bitten by coldness, surrounded by ice, swallowed by the whiteness of a dark snow?

The wig is coming off, she's tossing it away and cars try to avoid it, crashing one into another. She's tired of trying to go back to being the one she used to be: the doll that used to stare blankly from the shelves, looking all prideful and perfect with her locks of dark hair framing her oval shaped face. She's finally letting people see the stains of make-up covering her skin like the stains of a untreated acne. 

And stripped of all the gimmicks, she finally sees the light. It comes crashing into her, pushing her chest inwards, making the silence hum inside it. And locks fall open, rusty chains are put on fire, melted into silver and a beat is throbbing loudly, echoing in between her ribs.

She now remembers: there used to be a teddy bear once, a dusty one, all yellow and dirty, but the possessor of a warm heart and a kind smile. A teddy bear, one that used to hug her, hold he tight, making her feel powerful when all that remained behind was dust. There once used to be love.

She used to love.

But when the house burned, he burned with it, while she was saved by muddy hands when all she ever wished for was dying under her very eyes. And that's when she became someone unrecognizable: fake hair, fake make-up, fake posture, heck, even her beliefs were turned into faking. All that remained of her was a warm smile of the doll that once wished to make a someone smile, to offer comfort to the crying one and days of bliss when darkness would creep in.

She lost herself and spent decades trying to become a person that would be loved. A person. A human being with feelings, a heart without fear, a voice in the crowd.

She hoped all this time when in fact she was barely breathing... for she had forgotten all about her teddy bear...

Abyss

My words scramble down the paper, they flow restlessly and form lines - lines of pain, lines of black blood trickling down the white sheet of paper, soaking it with dark circles. They do not tell a story and they do not tell the truth. My words are but my reflected image put down, not in a drawing, but in a sketch of lines and countless question marks.

My words are the obnoxious part of me, the one that is trapped somewhere deep inside the abyss of my soul. For that who does not recognize darkness inside is but a mere fool. Darkness is there: in you, oh yes, in you too. It's like a seed planted way before time, a seed fallen from the maggoty forbidden fruit Eve has picked out as the most delicious apple there was in Eden's Garden. And it's growing... day by day, minute by minute, it spreads its roots and it cages your heart into an iron-like fist. It torments your soul, it makes you scream from the inside. That is not you. That is not the real you! That is not who they're supposed to see, to judge. But there you are, trapped, a porcelain doll among so many others.

And there's nothing that could deliver your soul from evil.

But these are my words, my magical power, my way of defeating the dragon at the end of the story. For I got the power to say when it's done and the power to write 'Fin' at the end of this book. It's mine - the power belongs to me.

So come meet me, dear reflected image. Come meet me, to settle this once and for all! For I see the way you try to stretch out of your glassy mirror, your eyes rummaging around for a hand to hold on. I recognize that look in your eyes - after all, your face mirrors my own feelings... And I do not want to end up trapped behind glossy glass!

So come meet me, dear reflected image. These are my words, my world, my salvation. I will give him up to you, 'cause he's turned blind and cannot see the bloody tears rolling down my cheeks. He never really did anyway...

Darkness.

These are my words.

Reflected.

I'm part of you just as much as you grow inside of me - the symptoms of a new disease.

The Most Beautiful Smile

The most beautiful smile is the one you're wearing each day, the one that shines brightly in your eyes, the one that you're showing to everybody but me, because you have a special one for me, one that makes you shine like a little diamond exposed to the sunlight.

The most beautiful smile is that of a broken heart that is still insecure, still scared, still trying to glue itself back together, but still working hard to have confidence and restore its trust in humanity.

The most beautiful smile is the one that you show after you wake up, messing your bed hair and looking like a five year old kid while hugging the pillow, stretching your hands towards the cold part of the bedsheet, 'cause you know exactly where you'll find me.

The most beautiful smile is the one that you try to suppress because eyes are watching and you should look tough and powerful like a mighty god, when in fact everything is just a lame show they put up for you.

The most beautiful smile is the one that blooms on your lips when you pick up the phone, using fake names and random place names to confuse those you eavesdrop on your conversation.

The most beautiful smile is that filled with the sadness of teary eyes, the one that appears when arms wrap around your shoulders, protective, promising never to let go and never to abandon you despite the stormy weather. You're a man, a powerful human being, you cannot bend, you cannot break down - and yet there's this one person that has seen your tears and have taken them away with gentle fingers and lips, until a small, shy smile appears in the corners of your lips.

The most beautiful smile is that of a love confession you never planned and yet escaped your lips, shocking the audience, making your heart pound heavily inside your chest.

The most beautiful smile is that when you close your eyes under the sunlight, feeling the warmth against your pale skin, trying to catch in invisible pictures all those fuzzy feelings that cuddle inside your chest.

The most beautiful smile is the one you show when you're by your own, sneaking out of the bed in the middle of the bed just to take a bite of that round and delicious-looking pie in the fridge, the one that appears when your taste buds are on cloud nine, the one that guiltily shines when you're caught red handed.

The most beautiful smile appears when you know your working hours are over and you can hurry back home, when you can throw off the tight suit and put on an extra large t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants, when you can just wrap your arm around my waist and stay like that seconds that turn into minutes and minutes that turn into hours, 'cause you were too tired to wait for the goodnight kiss.

But the most beautiful, shining smile is the one that appears whenever I call your name. It illuminates your whole being, it warms up your cheeks, it travels to the soul, making it shine through those beautiful, brown and kind eyes of yours. It makes your rush your fingers through your hair and bite your lower lip as the corners of your mouth remain up, twirled in the most beautiful and boyish smile I saw on your lips.

So, wherever you are now, I want you to know that you have the most beautiful smile in the whole world. 

Precious, brilliant smile, come back home, alright? I'll be waiting right here.

I love you.

Beautiful Life

Lime green.

Deep, sky blue.

A pair of flats.

Shorts.

A stained t-shirt.

And ice-cream.

You're sitting one arm away from me, looking up at the sky, probably wishing to be on one of those white planes that leave a white trail behind them as they mark the sky with whitish towards gray stripes. And you wish you would be there while I wish I'd just be closer to you. So close that I would get to hear your heart beat, so close that I would feel your perfume invading my lungs, so close that you would have to look down to look into my eyes, 'cause you're just as tall as I imagined.

I was always the black cat with a naughty desire to change the world, to make them all see the sky before the night ends.

You on the other side, were the white dove, the messenger of peace, the one that brought hope above the doomed ones, while I was the curse, the one with the bad luck. But I wished for you, you know? I wished to have you between my paws, to touch your feathers and feel their softness, to understand the reason you love blue while I love green, to see your green eyes with my blue ones, to touch the bare skin of your soles and follow in your footsteps before the water washed them away, finding your trail from me.

I was the daring one while you always hid behind your solitude. But maybe I was too damn green to understand your blues, so I just went ahead and hugged you from behind, burying my nose in your white shirt, sniffing your skin through its texture. Talking about being shameless!

Oh dear, love is out and calling your name, can't you hear it?

Despite me being still wishful that one day you'd stretch your arm and let me join you as your black soulmate, the one that has been wandering around for too long, it's such a sad situation that I got you to chase after, my life is still beautiful. 'Cause I'm in love with you and it's something permanent, something that cannot be damaged by time, distance, broken promises or forgotten vows.

I love deep sky blue.

You seem to have a thing for lime green.

We're both young and amazingly steady on this rotating ground.

Ice-cream.

Two pair of shoes.

The cat and the white dove...

Can Somebody Save Me Now?

I'm foolishly wear this rag of smile every day. 
Each day.
Even if I'm mad, it's easy to change my mood and pretend I'm happy if I put it up. It's like an old t-shirt that has holes in the fabric, revealing bits of the skin that finds underneath it. But even if it's old, it's comfortable enough for you to prefer it to the fancy lace and silk gown that lies still new in your closet. It's like an old bike that you keep using, despite the tire being flat. You prefer pumping some air in than go buy a new one.
I'm stupid enough to wear it every day, in front of everyone. I don't frown if there's someone around. You might catch me frowning at a book I'm reading and even that is pretty rarely coming from me. I don't cry in front of people. I just... put on a smile and swallow my tears for later, for a bathroom or a dark room with drawn curtains and music filling the stiff air.
I wear a smile every day ever since someone said my sad face is depressing to see every single day. I guess a smiling one is easier to stand and have around, right?
But if my sadness used to once be on my lips, I'm afraid it has gone to my eyes. It wasn't there before. My eyes were normal, plain brown eyes, sparkling or dry, always looking straight in the eyes of the person in front. But now they're dull, soulless eyes staring at the shoes. Always at the shoes. Because if I raise them and look someone in the eyes, I'm afraid I might scare them away. 
For who would love a girl with sad eyes?
So I wear this rag of a smile every single day, holding tight on it and hoping that it will last till the night sets over my bed and I close my eyes, that it won't break down and reveal my true self in front of the whole world.
For who would love a girl with sad lips?
This smile is everything I have, the only thing I held dear for seven years now. And even when my dears one passed away, even when I was hurt, when I was in pain, when I was unable to speak or move, when I cried because of a sad, tragic movie, when I suffered for a poor being being abused, that smile was still there, in the corners of my lips, invisible to the others like Harry Potter's invisible cloak. Only I knew about it and it protected me from the outside world.
For who would love a sad girl?
But I feel the smile fading away, slowly coming off my face like a muddy mask in contact with water or like show under the bright sun. What would I do without it to protect me? What will I be without it around to keep me safe? What would I look like without it?
My smile, the only friend that knew my secret, the only one that read my heart like an open book, this smile is fading away.
Can't you save me?

"It's a cold, cold world out there

Sometimes I feel like nobody cares

I'm down, down, down

Can somebody save me?"

Nothing Lasts Forever

Who are you?

Who am I?

Who are we and most importantly, what the fuck are we exactly?! 'Cause one thing is for sure: I'm sick and tired of this waiting, of this game you play, of this fucking situation! 

Are you a man of some other kind of strange animal with enhanced breathing and a beating heart in a tin chest?!

Are you some kind of breathing humanoid or a real person, not only a status and a green dot that shows you're online whenever I dare to turn on my PC?!

If yes, move your fucking ass right here and tell me something in person! I'm tired of talking through million of open windows, tired of refreshing the page every two minutes in case you decided to finally press Enter and sent those monosyllabic answers of yours, tired of searching you on the online page, tired of waiting for you to finally grow a pair and tell me something without me pushing you from behind.

Really now, darling, what exactly are you? Please find some time to explain this to me, 'cause I'd be damned if I understand!

You're not my only friend, I hope you know that. So don't act so fucking cold with me, giving me the cold shoulder just to gain more attention, 'cause it won't work! You're just a pinch of salt when I have the fucking Almighty Mount of Salt. You're annoying the crap out of me, you know that?! No, I do love you and all, I do like to see you from time to time, to eat your ice-cream and then give you the innocent face you hate so badly, to pour water on your face while you're still away in your Dreamland. I do love how we waste time counting stars, naming butterflies, thinking of winter and crying for summer with the first snow. I freakin' adore the way you snore and grind your teeth, the way you throw pillows at me from across the room, the way you serenade me with your childish and flowery guitar, the way you hate pink to guts, the way you pick fights for every stupid thing I do only to pinch my cheeks until they turn bright red.

I do, I do. 

But then you have those mood swings and I find you crying at night or you suddenly leave the chat room,

making me wonder if you're still 100% sane or half of you is already put down by the shrink.

I still remember that one night when you showed me your wrist and told me you'd love to see it cut open. Are those blue threads really that interesting to you? 'Cause here, take a good look at mines and then give them back to me! I've been there, alright? I've done all that and I'm not ashamed. I was THIS fucking close from never coming back again. And it was you who shook me back to live with those stupid and annoying as a bitch noises of you continuously hitting the Enter key. I still remember yelling at you "Are you fucking crazy or what?! Someone's trying to have a good death here, you know?!" And you simply turned on your web camera and showed me that insanely pink stuffed toy "Look what I brought for you!". Really, it took me two days and a half, two planes, hitchhiking from Toulouse to Paris, a bus and a couple of steps to knock you off your chair with just one hit and burn that Goddamn pink toy. Really now, I haven't seen something as ugly as that!

But summer's gone and look at me feeling all unsure and uneasy for some odd reason. It's no longer how it used to be. I can feel it. You're too hot to handle with your leather jacket and black eyeliner you started wearing for all the stupid and foolish reasons in the whole world, no shirt to cover you white skin (really, you should try your my foundation or something from now and then), while I on the other side am pitiful like a wet dog that's waiting for the master that has abandoned him. You're like a hot biker that gets all the girls, while I'm the awkward nerd who never get any attention (nerd, not wallflower, dumbass!). You're a genius that words with facts and numbers while I'm the stupid editor that uses words that can't really reach your words. And as much as I wish I could get into your world, that I could speak 1-4-3, it's like trying to have a SRS when I'm not that sure I can be a male with all this feminine thoughts swarming inside my head.

Summer was our season.

Summer is our one and only season, right? And now, like trees and flowers, we're fucking withering under the autumnal sun.

What a shame, darling, what a shame, really! I even pulled my nuts in the spotlight to tell you I like you and now it's over? So, I'm asking you: who the fuck are you and what the fuck are we at this very point? 'Cause I think I'm getting sexually frustrated while waiting for you to open your eyes and see that I haven't got a boyfriend because of you, that I changed my hair style because of you, that I'm wearing a sugar plum eyeliner with all those dazzling sparkly sparks that make my eyes sting whenever I get out of the house, that I'm actually shaving my legs so that I won't look like freakin' King Kong in front of you.

Well, now that you're no longer online, I hope you go to Hell and stay there until I change my mind! Which will be, let me check my agenda for a sec, NEVER!

It's too bad that I have to vent myself like this just because you're a freakin' introvert when it comes to using real words and not stupid emoticons. But you talked to me all summer, didn't you? And in the end, nothing last forever, isn't that so? I think that's what GD taught us recently... whatever! Maybe once spring will met your icy heart you'll come to realize that we were made for each other. Until then, I'll just have to lock my sexy ass and face away like Rapunzel locked her golden hair in a tower... talking of women's problem, at least keep your Captain Winky in his ship, alright? Don't let him enter strange lagoons or dark caves or I'll hunt him down with a butcher's knife, ok? Alright! Glad to have that straight!

And despite you being my favourite person in the whole world, dude,

Realization

It was a normal Sunday and I was normally browsing around the Internet, looking for some way to entertain myself. Only that with the corner of my eye, I spotted your digital picture resting on the desk.

I have to admit that I stared at it for quite a while. Yeah, embarrassing, I know, I know. But I didn't knew what else to do since my hands had stopped and were just resting on my knees. And where else could have I looked? The other way? Out the window? At the screen displaying thousands of pictures in front of me? Could have I looked anywhere else when you were there, when your smile was there, present like this heart that beats inside my chest?

No.

So I took my time to analyze your face, the shape of it, the traits, the small spots from an old acne burst, the eyes, the bridge of the nose that's a little bulbous towards the tip, the lips - oh, so kissable lips!, all pink and soft, the stubborn chin. And I wondered: "Why do I like/ kind of love him anyway?". Answer? There's no real answer that wouldn't sound like a lie or a cheesy, stupid thing a girl in love would say. Maybe I like you because you're so fluffy, that you're stubborn and snap easily. Or maybe it's because when you smile you show around 24 teeth... or maybe it's because you have cute ears. Or maybe it's the lips that make me smile when I think of you. It couldn't be your strange personality, your multi-talented hands or the over-confident attitude you make me put up with every single day, even in my dreams. 

People told me to stop dreaming - you're not real. And yet there you are, flesh and bones, heart and blood, smiles and laughter, frowns and glares - you're there.

People told me that my love is admirable. But they couldn't be more wrong. I do love you. I love you from the bottom of my heart even though I do not say it the way you're supposed to hear it. I love you so much that if love was fuel, I'd be able to go around the world and never run out of it. I love you so freakin' much that it kind of hurts at times when I realize just how silly I am when the night comes... But they are all wrong, my love ain't admirable at all. It's kind of an old cliché as I don't really know what to do with my love, actually. I could fuel some other fire, I could pretend to love some other guy and secretly think of you. I could watch you closely and never approach you. It's the bad kind of love, the poisonous one, the one it incapable of turning into hate and is everlasting. It's the one you meet only in fairytales... My love is scary.

Someone told me never give up on what I am and what I hold dear. Again, a cliché wish of them to be like me, of them to live with what I feel. But if they knew, if they could feel it even for a second, they would see how close to bursting my heart is, how difficult is to actually breathe, knowing you won't be really there... ever. Not ever.

But a dreamer lives for her dreams, even when they pull her underwater. I am drowning each day and I never stopped to actually wonder if it's worth keeping a love like the one I have for you. You'll never hear me, never will you lay your eyes on the unappealing me. This is the realization that made me fight the high waters invading my lungs, that made me actually wish for the shore to be closer to my tired hands. Dear, I'm tired of swimming and I don't want to drown. I'm tired of gulping salty water, of fearing what circles me. I'm tired of fighting with the tide, with the currents and the waves. But then again, I won't go down without a fight! I will not drown in this... this... this love! For if I do close my eyes, you're there. And once you're around, I will never ever be able to leave your imaginary side.

I don't want to be crazy.

I swear it was a normal Sunday and that I was normally staring at your photo.

But you're so far away and permanently surrounded by people that care for you, that shower you with their love for you, for what you are and what you mean that it's actually kind of painful for me to watch. So, since my love is no longer useful (was it ever, useful?) I'd like to have it back now, please. Give me back my heart and all my dreams, 'cause I think I have a jar of broken dreams hidden somewhere under the bed and this one will act like seal. And I will never ever talk about you again, never ever remember you, never ever trust this beating heart of mine that seems to be malfunctioning...

It was a normal Sunday when the normal realization was born in my mind: it's time to let you go 'cause you have no use of me anymore. You've got your friends, you've got millions of others willing to give their hearts to you. I don't want to be a bleeding heart in the crowd. So today, I take my heart back to mend it, to make it work in sync with the brain. 

It was a normal Sunday and I was dreaming of running away with your love, lock myself in a rocket and fly to the moon, never to return...

G-Dragon "Coup D'État" Album Review

This review reflects personal opinions and not that of a professional!

Also, I won’t be reviewing all the tracks, but the ones that really drew my attention from this new album!

Personal rating: 4/5

The impression: This album is a little more personal than the one released last year, that’s for sure. Starting from the very title of the album, “Coup D’État”, the album is indeed some sort of ‘revolutionary’ movement. Personally, I haven’t seen k-pop groups/artists using French titles for their albums, title that would make a sense when put together with the whole concept of the album, that is, so its correct use and subtle reference definitely impressed me.

Also, I liked a lot the album cover because it’s like a return to simplicity. Somewhere in the ’60, the hippie movement brought the peace sign, the flowers and all the other things that they called ‘the revolution’. Now, I’m not saying G-Dragon is a hippie or anything like that, just that the covers of his album-in-two-parts reminded me of that movement. ‘Cause to some extend, he as well, as a public person and performer, composer and producer, is a revolution from what we visualize and expect when we hear the word ‘k-pop’.

Overall, the album is a back-and-forth swing between Kwon Ji Yong, the person no one knows apart from close friends/family and G-Dragon, the idol/performer/fashion icon/cool dude the fans fawn over like flies, thing that I like. Finally, someone is stepping out of the comfort zone.

The tracks:

01. ‘Coup D’État’ – This is definitely the beginning of G-Dragon’s ‘revolutionary movement’ if I can call it this way. The song itself is more of a self praise if we are to look at the lyrics and somehow doesn't really match the overly symbolized MV he released together with the first part of the album. But I won’t go there to analyze the MV frame by frame, ‘cause that has already been done, so no need of that now. I will though analyze the song a bit.

For a non-Korean, the song might have no meaning in some points as G-Dragon decided to use some references to Korean related facts (but thanks Lord, there’s Internet!): a commercial, a bug spray and a historical figure. Put together like this, they might not have any sense at all, but even so, they’re hints to the power and fame that seem to label G-Dragon: he’s like a commercial that everyone sees on TV, determining people to buy certain products, but at the same time he’s like a bug spray that ‘kills’ the small and powerless and in the end, he’s just as cool, popular and busy as Hong Gil Dong, the Korean version of Robin Hood.

But even if it sounds like a self praise, G-Dragon points out some things that come along with the fame or with the wish of being famous: a hectic life, a continuous attempt to reinvent oneself, the impossibility to be ‘ordinary’, being called names because of the shallowness that is perceived from the outside.

I believe G-Dragon is inviting people to see the revolution as in to see that there is more to an artist than we see on television.

03. ‘R.O.D (ft. Lydia Paek)’ – ‘Ride Or Die’ is, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful love confession I ever listened to. Why? Because G-Dragon isn't G-Dragon in this song, but Kwon Ji Yong, the person that is true to his heart and does not fear to show the world that he is in love, that he is after all, just a man like so many others.

This is the first movement of the pendulum motion I was talking before starting the review.

As a confession, it’s one to die for. To listen to it and cry. To listen to it and smile. To listen to it and see the the summer sun and a red convertible Jeep on a beach. To listen to it and sense the man that Kwon Ji Yong is underneath the swag. To listen to it and regret the pressure he is put under.

As a song, it’s a fresh track, with summer-ish echoes. I really like the electric/ dub-step sounds thrown in the song, as well as the choir-like voices that can be heard during the chorus. Also, I think Lydia Paek was a great choice as the girl’s voice. She’s definitely making the cut, matching his rap-confession with her feminine vocals. It’s definitely a plus for the song, making it more memorable!

Now, a personal note: I don’t know what’s going on in Kwon Ji Yong’s life (I don’t really want to know, either) and I definitely don’t want to go presuming that he’s in love or he recently broke up with or that he can’t be with the one he loves because of the media that would crazily follow him around, but this track made me want to fall in love or witness a love like the character he has in the song feels. So, I’m thankful to Ji Yong that composed and produced this track and to G-Dragon that sang this J

04. ‘Black (Ft. Jennie Kim)’ – Even if she will never make a debut, Jennie Kim will be a killer though the featuring songs she has with G-Dragon. I really, really like her voice. It’s incredibly well balanced and gives a nice vibe to the song. She sounds a little less cold than Lee Hi, but has the same laziness lingering in her tonality, thing that I totally like.

Listening to ‘Black’ right after ‘R.O.D’ is like pouring icy cold water on the body after sitting in the sun for an hour or so. It’s making you sulk with it’s beautiful melodramatic sound and even if you don’t get the meaning of the lyrics, you still get the sorrowful message behind them.

Here, the pendulum swings between G-Dragon and Kwon Ji Yong. Maybe it’s Ji Yong looking at the things G-Dragon loses because of being who he is? I perceive this like a mirrored conversation between the man he is and the persona he uses on stage.

I like the simplicity of the instrumental used. It’s completing the gloomy atmosphere of the song and matches the cool rap of GD.

The song itself is like a autumnal rainy day.

05. ‘Who You?’ -  And we’re back to Kwon Ji Yong! The man he is is back in the picture, leaving behind the performer and talking from the bottom of his heart once again.

I have to say that I loved the track from the very moment it started playing in my handsets. The beat, the piano, the mild electric guitar, the battery, the playfulness of his voice, the way he sings, the cute rap, the English, everything is just a mixture of lively and warm hearted feelings I never felt before in GD’s classic tracks or even in Big Bang’s hits.

This track reveals the playful part of Ji Yong and finally, a break-up song ain't so melo and sad, put more of a fun type of story, a story he tells while admitting he wants his girl back. Just, awww!

It’s impossible not to smile while listening to this song or letting your imagination run wild and picture him either in Boston, San Francisco or Seattle. It makes you forget that he who sings is a man of people, of huge crowds that chant with him, that clap their hands. Instead you see this neighbor look-like boy who chases after the girl he regrets losing with a whole street performers following him around. Crazy, huh?

06. ‘Shake the World’ – Definitely an interesting way of opening the second part of the album. Broadly, the song it’s some kind of continuation for ‘Coup D’État’ since G-Dragon is back taking all about his swag and originality. Again, talking about GD’s record as an artist/composer/performer, the way his rap is back in the charts, making them shake anyone from the first positions and placing himself there.

I think this is the real intro of the whole album, if we were to look at all the tracks of the album-in-two-parts. He’s announcing his comeback proudly, talking about his music, his fans, the way he was prepared for this ‘since he was born’.

What I like is the reference to ‘Arirang’ the Korean folk song we can hear in two verses, the way he admits that k-pop’s roots are found in those type of songs and have evolved according to the times we live in.

As a side note, I think GD hates questions related to producing and composing. It’s just a feeling I got after reading the lyrics: “This isn't musical education, but they ask questions to get answers they want to hear”. Oh, and this is the second time I hear this: “Music is just music” in two months. He and Junhyung of Beast have included it both in the intros to their albums. Interesting, don’t you think?

08. ‘Crooked’ – The title doesn't go for the literal sense of the word ‘crooked’ but for the slang one, meaning ‘dishonest’. But despite being entitled ‘dishonest’, the song does nothing but speaking the truth from the beginning to the very end of it.

I didn't expect it to like it, but I do like it. It’s just like ‘Black’: we find both pieces of GD and Kwon Ji Yong in the lyrics. It’s more of GD in the MV, but I think it’s Ji Yong’s voice that speaks up, get what I mean? I swear this sounds better in my head!

The song is as crazy as the lyrics – I like it! I like the fun and funky feeling, the feeling of being forwarded from one part of the song to other while we move in slow-motion. His voice is really nice and the rap makes it even more interesting for the ears to hear.

In talks of love, I have to say this, this man is a loser! He gets the girl in just two tracks from twelve. I mean, c’mon man, you can do better, right?

Anyway, the song speaks the truth – “Nothing ever lasts forever”. Not even love, as he discovered. Apparently, the girl he lost was scared of his GD face, the cool part of him, the popularity of his name and face. But as much as the break-up hurt him, he’s not the childish guy from ‘Who You?’, so he understands the situation pretty well. Nice!

One thing I really, really like about the MV: it shows the mess and craziness in his head, the pain that makes him go round and round, picking fights where there’s none. Way to go!

10. ‘Runaway’ – This song is soooo having two meanings! The pendulum is stuck in the middle so we have both GD and Ji Yong here. Interesting!

But, let’s talk about the song in general for a bit. It’s definitely a never heard mixture of sounds, instruments and vocals. Again, I have to admit just how much I like it! I like that although it’s rapping most of the time, he makes it so that at the end of the verse, you forget that it’s supposed to be rap as it sounds more like the main vocalist. Another thing I like about this song: I get to hear GD’s high notes I never heard before. I wonder where he hid them till now… Oh, and there’s this electric guitar part that it’s totally making you fall for the song and want to put it on repeat. Genius! And the ‘Yahoo-hoo-hoo’ parts – to die for! J

So, going for the lyrics now, there’s two possibilities I see here:

1. The lyrics are meant for his fans, for those who say that scream their love confession to him during concerts and events. If it’s this one, then their love is making him uncomfortable. And it’s not that he hates those fans, he actually confesses that he misses them sometimes (thus the combination between GD and Ji Yong), but he feels better without them around. It’s like a way to tell them that they should back off a little…
2. The lyrics are meant for a girl. Like, duh! Here, GD leaves and we can hear Ji Yong once again. A spin-off for ‘Who You?’? Possible. Anyway, this man is incredibly bitchy in this song, as he practically behaves like the male version of a chick with obsessive-compulsive admirers stalking her.

Absolutely love the song and the fact that as he begs through all the song for a way to escape, at the end we can really him escape in that ‘fast car with fast wings’ J

11. ‘I Love It (ft. Zion T & Boys Noize)’ – This song is so… so… sooo… how to call it? It highlights the perverted mind of a man, you know? The way they check out chicks and all? Of course, this one is really cool and fancy, in a non-pornographic way, but still perverted. What can I say? It totally won me over!

I love the beat, the instrumental, the lyrics, the vocals, the rap, everything! And what I like the most about it it’s the way it takes me back in the ’90 with the vocals of Zion.T and the rhythm. I don’t know what Boys Noize did, maybe they took part in the producing part, but Zion.T definitely makes himself noticed during the chorus.

Oh, I take back what I said before: GD doesn't get the girl now. He’s just wishing for it, while watching the girl from a distance. It’s pitifully cute if it were to think he’s watching from afar. But even so, it’s a nice song to listen to. It doesn't make you want to dance around like ‘R.O.D’, ‘Who You?’ or ‘Crooked’, but even so, I still shook some parts of my body while writing this review and listening to the track J

Overall: The album is totally enjoyable and definitely more accessible than “One Of a Kind” as sounds and lyrics, feelings and rhythms. It’s one of those albums made to be performed live, that makes it accessible both for the artist and the public.

I like it since it’s both an evolution and a revolution of G-Dragon as both person and artist. He brought new sounds and feelings in the public attention through this album and he definitely delineates Kwon Ji Yong from G-Dragon and that’s really admirable of him, you know?

But even if I liked it, you probably saw that this album didn't manage to score perfect 5 stars from me. The reason why I deducted a full point is that, although GD really evolved a composer and artist through “Coup D’État”, he went too much on Western sounds. Some tracks from this album sound way too much like American pop, the only difference being the language and personal involvement of GD in the making of the album. I really don’t want him to sound like the American artists since that would mean him losing the colours I like and transforming k-pop into something that it’s not. Really, if I wanted to listen to American pop, I would have listened to Justin Bieber, Selena Gomez, Lady Gaga and the other famous artists from the US. G-Dragon has his own unique colours and he doesn't need to go Western in order to gain more fans/keep his fans/earn money. For example, although they rocked the stage together and the fans really seemed to enjoy the performance, I pretty much dislike the track featuring Miss Eliot, “Naliria”. Just… not my cup of tea since the rap was no longer the Korean one, but the American one translated into Korean, if you get what I mean.

So, as much as I hate to say this, the ‘westernizing’ of his album made me deduct the point L