The rain whispered.

Destiny is what created this blog and guess its destiny that is knocking on my door again. Just by coincidence wanted to read the last actual post I wrote, it have been a long while and I could not remember what was it or what it talked about. It was ordinary. Yes just like me, but there! something made me smile. Something made me say the old words "ah! destiny" long time I did not mention you!. And here you are again on my threshold waiting and waving for me. What was it you ask? "Monday, 24 February 2014" the same date as today! call that a coincidence!.



I do not know how many times I have come here and stared for hours at a blank screen. Perhaps hitting a few buttons and then moments later hit the delete button and erase all in mere seconds.

But unexpected events, warm whispers from distant friends keep coming at night, waking me up. Sweet hauntings, mellow lullabies. This I cannot delete, these I cannot turn my back too. And guess this is how it all started on a cold rainy day. Days like these make me feel the want to write. Perhaps the charcoal grey of the sky reminds me of the traces the pen leaves on a blank page. The smell of winter and the tight grasp of all that is winter drags me to this nostalgic state of mind. The cold wind howling, raindrops frantically bombing my window and the smell of wet grass, yes this is it the perfect recipe for winter. The perfect setting for me to remember. The perfect time for words and thoughts to sprout.

Still it is not easy to pick the exact words I want to say, its not easy to break the thick layer of ice that it has been created, but even the biggest of journeys have its start with a very humble beginning.

What to say? ordinary! that is me, that is what it have become of me. Still cashing my dreams, new dreams, its funny it never stops  a vicious circle this is!!. always wanting more, always looking for something new as insignificant or bombastic as it may be. So nothing really have changed you may think, perhaps not much, its the same old me. The same old me missing my dear friends and missing this world of words and thoughts.

Sometimes I take a little peek at this magical world for a tiny while but unfortunately it stops there, other times I grab a notebook that came across the ocean and a pen that the waves brought on these shores long before, but it stops there, words simply don't flow.

Even now I look at these few lines and the only word I seem to find fitting is eclectic. That's me always wanting to make a lot, starting a hundreds of  tasks and finish none of them. And I guess this is another beginning, another chapter of my life, a fresh page.... this thanks to you for waking me up dear rain...dear friends...and here it starts...

Picture by tumblr

Cupidity [7]

Shadow Dancer.

Here is a fun one that I liked very much, and had fun watching. 

 Fantasy meets reality.

Seeams just like out of Peter pan's story! 

hope that you like it too. 

So let me to steal a few minutes of your time again, eight really!. 

But its worth it... promise! 

Let me know what you think! love to hear from you!. 

...

Enjoy!. 

Shadow dancer corneto short movie.

Cupidity [6]

Drawings and Dreams.

Here is a very special one that I liked very much, 

a bit dreamy, a bit fantasy, but that is why I like it. 

hope that you like it too. 

So let me to steal five minutes of your time again, eight really!. 

But its worth every minute! 

Let me know what you think! love to hear from you!. 

...

Enjoy!. 

cornetto short movie; drawings and dreams.

Cupidity [5]

The Oasis.

Hum...hmm not quite sure what to think about this one, 

Oh well guess everyone got to follow his very own special path!. 

Time for me to steal five minutes of your time again, 

I promise its a short one!.

Let me know what you think! love to hear from you!. 

...

Enjoy!. 

Cornetto short movie; Oasis. 

Cupidity [4]

Together Apart.

Its time for me to steal five minutes of your time again, 

This is a heart melting one, hope you like it as much as I did. 

Its sad at moments and sweet at others.

Let me know what you think! love to hear from you!. 

...

Enjoy!. 

cornetto short movie; together apart 

Cupidity [3]

Kismet Diner.

Here is the third video for you.

 Remember the films all follow a pattern, the same theme, 

but every story is different, not the sentiment though. 

This is one of my favorite so far, yet my favorite is yet to come, guess

 I'm keeping the best for last!, 

although I think this is the sweetest of them all. 

Let me know what you think! love to hear from you!. 

...

Enjoy!. 

Kismet Diner: by corneto short movie.

 

Cupidity [2]

Margot. 

And here is the second video for you.

 Same theme same plot different story, because every story is unique. 

Let me know what you think! love to hear from you!. 

...

Enjoy!. 

Margot. by cornetto short film. 

Cupidity [1]

Beauty and the geek. 

Have a little time to sneak something out for you today, hope you like this short film I have found for you. I have found this one very sweet. 

Let me know what you think!. 

...

Enjoy! 

Cupidity by: corneto Beauty and the geek short movie.

The Bad Blogger.

Hello all my dear friends, 

                           I know...  lately I have been a very bad Blogger. I neglected a lot this corner I so love, yet you all are always on my mind and I miss you all very much!. In fact I wish to thank you all of those who remembered me and sent me a message, this meant a lot to me :)  

It is not that I have abandoned my corner, not at all... in fact, I have many ten's of post unpublished that wish I could post now, but they all need that little polish before shared to the world if you know what I mean!.  

The truth is that I have been very busy, priorities they call them... and never really found enough time or strength left to publish or even visit at least one of you my dear friends. Hopefully!, things will be back to normality soon, at least I hope so!. 

Well my dear listeners of Whispers I'm afraid I must say goodbye now, till then stay safe. 

Yours Hotei. 

    

Time.

It is the most abundant thing we have and yet we can never have enough of it. We are constantly loosing it but we never really realise. It is the most precious thing one can own but we never value it and we constantly waste it away... 

It was another morning, like many others I lived, like many have come and simply flew away without me noticing or caring that they went by. Yet this morning my mind, thoughts and eyes worked in harmony with each other. They played the most beautiful melody, yet it saddened the heart. I had that sunken feeling that something was to happen. I could not quite grasp the feeling even though I tried to understand. Then like many other times it slowly made sense, it slowly came to me, slowly the colours became more vivid, and yet again I was drawn into my secret world, the secret world of my mind. There where colours are bright there where sound does not exist, it exists only the sound of my thoughts, that from soft, hush murmurs become loud clear voices.

How I could have done this to me?... how did I let my self do this? I thought. Then I realised that every one must think the same way I do, this is one thing we all might agree on, we all have wasted time, we all have one time or another disrespected this precious gift. How many times we thought, promised, vowed and sworn that we would never ever again loose or waste it, yet every time we fail from keeping the solemn oath.

As I look out of my window and see the autumn wind steal the leaves from the tree branches with every blow carrying with it stories and with each blow it pushes summer away bringing new hopes for a new life, bringing new memories as this year will soon take its last breath. This is a familiar sight to me, sweet yet melancholic. It draws me back violently to reality, but I hold fragments from the world I been in. Then I look into myself searching for these fragments and see the promises I did not keep. How many times I told myself, "Never make promises you cant keep" yet every time I arrogantly break this rule. I arrogantly throw and waste this gift we call time.


Once more I make a promise, a promise I am giving my word on, a promise that I will do my utmost to keep. By next autumn before the last leave falls before winter makes itself feel....the words I gave the hopes I build and promises I made, I will keep... I know sacrifice must be done, I know it will not be easy, I know its a fight against time, but for this time I so profoundly now value its gift - I will keep what today I sworn my love.

Picture by Hotei 

 

Confessions of my mind.

It is not a matter of inspiration, nether fantasy, it just comes to me. I can't explain why or how, all I know is that my finger tips tingle. I call it tingling, fact is that I can't find any other word to make myself more clear. All I know is that there is only one way to stop this urge, and that is writing. I always loved writing, I did it since I was a child, it is something that perhaps is buried in me deeply. I look at it like when taking a picture, when you find the perfect shot you just click away to freeze the image, same is with writing it comes and goes, sometimes an idea can linger in my head for hours or days and many other times for just seconds.

Sometimes it scares me how my brain works, how I see the image I want to capture. Its not easy to comprehend, but I can try to explain. Its like being in a bubble, I see everything amplified and sharp, but yet I feel cut out from the rest of the world. Sometimes the colours are vibrant more then you could ever imagine, other times I'm overwhelmed by scents, sweet images laced with these sweet smells. This feeling comes to me sometimes for an instant... sometimes hours, and other times the image is unclear almost blurred and dull. So if you ask me what I am on about don't feel bad if I don't explain cause many times I can't understand it my self.

Keep on wanting more, I know she does, I know once she have tasted the forbidden fruit its hard to let go, she gets inebriated by its taste and liquor. I just need her to understand that not all I see is clear, and that many times words come to me obfuscated, almost like distorted, many times I can hear and listen, but simply can't processes a single word.

Many times I can read her shivering soul trough her teary eyes, perhaps after hurting her unintentionally, how stupid I feel. I should have many times said words I thought, that would have made things more easy to understand, not only for her but perhaps even for me... how stupid I feel...

On other occasions I speak a language she cant understand, but those words just slip out without me having control on them, its just like my body doesn't respond to my own commands. How stupid I feel when sometimes I realise that time has passed, slipped away without ever realising, how stupid I feel...

Picture by google images 

Storyteller.

The storyteller 

Whistle and sings, legends - myths 

Truth or fantasy? 

***

Lost in the mists of time,

Stories of people, who lived and still live,

Many forgotten, perhaps not real?,

Its seams just yesterday, yet time trickled away,

Around a fire of lost notes,

Gathering grounds for those who want to hear,

He reveals stories, secrets to you,

Like a child you're eager to hear.

Carried from mouth to mouth,

Like the air that is "breath"

Till its sets where fertile fantasy grows,

And wild like fire spreads.

He chants his tale to the world,

His new name narrates -

Adventures, of triumphant knights,

Who battled dark to free the light.

The storyteller travels from town to town,

From heart to heart,

He make you be who you want to be,

 Battle dragons and ride clouds.

Storyteller reveals stories unsaid, 

He let the air carry his name,

Not knowing were his words might set, 

Storyteller brings a tear to your eye.

He, vessel of life, 

Like a bottle that might hold-

Water, potion or poison,

It will bring or take life. 

                                                     Storyteller.   

What Is Your Story?

Picture by google images 

Harvester Of Stars

Harvester of stars, 

Lost among a million dreams, 

Wake! its not a dream. 

Reached for your hand, as we walked towards the dark reaching the golden room, there! where everyone wore masks. It was not our place, or perhaps it was the place we so longed for. Among fake smiles and subtle chants we made our way to the top of the stairs, looked down and saw destiny unfold, looked up and saw past in its mighty golden glory.

Fantasised a bit to much, perhaps the wine, perhaps had a little to much. As we walked among the masks came to me for a second or two, a memory of a past night, were fireflies filled the air, were a sweet smell of blossoms saturated the air.

I many times wondered how to make you listen the sound that was still, now that I learned you heard I find it hard to speak. But tonight we are not wearing masks only us walked unashamed among the crowd of dancing  phantoms. Only us walked proudly unveiled.

As more and more the night went by, the stars seamed to shine less, perhaps shadowed by the brilliance of the floating city above, or perhaps out-shined by your glistening eyes as they foretold what they saw in the imminent future. A leap in the dark it may seam to be, but who are we to judge? without even giving it a chance.

We wore a grin as we went back down the stairway, proudly walked among the crowd, they bowed in wonder as they removed their masks. To our chariot made us way...

Picture by Hotei©

 

Thank you

A small tribute to you my friend, for the lovely wishes and thoughtful gifts...

Picture by hotei ©

[LOVE] he wrote!

Static! he said, and guess he is right, I am hesitating when it comes to press the orange publish button. What's the point in writing posts? writing thoughts, then not finish the last line!. Guess this means that I am not feeling comfortable in my own skin any more. I think and ask myself, why I'm doing so? then I tell to myself wasn't this the reason I started this diary?.

Thinking of it, its true... I know he is right but guess there is much to learn, and we should have learnt this a long while ago.

Guess it was love that made me start... then later transformed (evolved) to something more deep, to something more personal, but it kept the same idea the same meaning. "Eclectic" at times but still it changed around the very same idea. Guess it changed with me as I grew, as I perhaps learned every time I stumbled, every time I choose a new path to walk.

Perhaps we have divided ideas about this or perhaps we see this trough a different lens, but guess our feelings are the same in the end.

I say...what is wrong in picking up the same theme? if every time its a different emotion I feel. Who wouldn't write down a deceleration on paper every time one feels butterflies in his stomach?. Every time one is dragged in a stranger eye...captured in a travellers smile...

Many times I promised my self not to write about love, but then there is always that one exception, that only one reason to just put a few words down. Guess some people make you heart beat faster even if you never looked straight in their face or heard their voice, or those other times when you thought you heard that capturing laugh resonating in you ear. That giggle that made you fall, and that smile that made you go so gaga uncountable times.

If you think about it, and you perhaps won't need to over work yourself about it you'll know how similar we are, how many times we crossed the same paths. Love with no returned feeling....love at a distance...love that was just a fickle dream...guess the reason must and will always be love....

Pictures by tumblr & google images 

Understanding

Once more they made their way into my dreams. Once again I have been awaken by murmurs inside my head. The uncontrollable urge to empty my mind. Now that I know there is no way back, there is no way to erase what's done. I can't just let them go, these unsaid words are to dear to me, to dear to let go...

How funny this is, funny... perhaps I should say awkward. Awkward, is a much suitable word to use.  Lately I been writing and writing every thought that crosses my mind. I been writing on every vessel that could carry my thoughts away.  Anything!, as long the surface was good enough to write on. Anything to stop the tormenting voices inside my head, voices of the words still unsaid. I know if I don't let them out they  cease to exist, and how can I do this to them, they did nothing wrong they were born for the single reason to preserve, to make her somehow listen more the words I never say. And how can I ever ignore them? these sweet nothings...

These sweet little noises, perhaps good to say more then just whispers. Not easy to let them out, I forced them down deep inside. Perhaps one day they will make more sense, perhaps one day she'll understand them more. Perhaps one day I will understand them more. Perhaps one day I will understand the same texts I write. Perhaps one day I will learn to read properly the language of my heart.

These words may not be worth enough to share, but maybe one day they will kiss air. Whispers gently carried by the air we breath. To make us understand more this sentiment that words enough can never explain.

I know she craves for more, I know it have become a drug that keeps her coming and wanting more. Not greed perhaps, more assurance that it was not a dream, not a figment of her imagination. I am sure words will spread, and once more words will be set free while she peeks in disguise...

This is you, the soft lullaby playing softly in my mind. 

Something I can't simply turn my back on. 

This is you, the clear image before my eyes. 

Something I can't just ignore. 

This is you, the gentile touch on my skin. 

Something I can feel and know is real. 

Picture by tumblr 

Everytime

...

This is not easy to explain, and not sure how am I suppose to react. For once in my life I had a place where I felt safe, a place where I could be me, a place that was mine. There I rested and shared what most was dear to me. Ho! but when I say dear I really mean it, the words that are trapped inside my head, sometimes eager to get out! other times must shake my head really hard to get them out, shy words I guess...

Words that are afraid to show, cause they think they are not worthy or insignificant. Not quite right I must say, not quite right she may think!. For me, like a "fountain of youth", it keeps my memory young, the image clear the scent of her crisp.

She needed not to know, she could read it all trough my eyes, if only she had a manual of how to use. Did she need a proof? something to hold on to? or just curiosity to clear what was uncertain to her?. Thought I was clear as glass, easy to see trough. Perhaps she needed more, of the little words I share.

Now she sleeps with a smile, but the kind I have rarely seen, not the one I was used to. A smile that emits satisfaction with a hint of pride, a pinch of selfishness a potion for disaster it read in my book. But no! I might have misspelled! I now look at sentiments more profound!.

When it comes to look at a blank screen I find it hard to type words, now that I know I caught the attention of her eyes. Afraid of not what she might find, but afraid her eyes will scare the words away. Words I so hardly sought, words I carefully picked, words I carefully saved from a certain loss!.

I say, there is no need to know more then she already know. There is no need to search the land she knows by heart as she discovered and brought to light every treasure there was to find. But we are humans, and humans doubt.

When you doubt yourself read me, when you doubt me leave me... everytime you need to be sure kiss me. Everytime you want me you know the way to find me, and when you get lost in this land you know, look for the map inside your heart.

For this I speak is an ode to love, as all I breath is love, tells love...show love...means love...

       

You now have the key to the secret garden, you can choose to keep it locked and preserve the balance that reigned within its high walls, you may choose to explore an let winter freeze the stories yet untold....

Picture by tumblr 

Unspoken

What if words were free?

Left to spread wild with the wind,

Would you listen more? 

What if we had no dreams to look forward to make when we lay to sleep?. 

What if we had no secrets to hold, would our dignity be left untouched?. 

What if all that we think is said, would that make a better world?.

Guess sometimes the safest place to be is inside your head. Words are kept secret for no one to hear. Inside my head I find my resting place among a million thoughts. I can pick up one word and turn it into anything I want, but only in my head. Words that are left unspoken are more powerful then the one I speak, you only have to learn to read. 

Words trapped inside a bottle, 

Words trapped inside my head, 

Words hidden to die unspoken 

But never to be forgotten 

Secret no more.....

I was never good with words, I was never good to speak. I was good with emotions, good to believe in our dream. I could talk how special you can be, I can shout it to the world.... 

Picture by google images 

Feet in the sand

The wind blew strong yesterday somehow, somewhat coldish, its just like winter still wants to linger a bit longer here. The clouds hid the sun from us giving us only a glimpse of sunshine.  Still this did not stop us from meeting and yet again watch another sunset...

 

Everyday is a bonus, she mumbled to me again while dipping for the first time this year our feet in the cold waters. I wrapped myself warm in my blue cardigan, holding to it as the wind blew strong almost making us tumble. "come on! its not that cold" she said with a smirk on her face, she knows us islanders can't stand the cold. Thinking that last June we were already bathing in the same waters, and today we were shivering by just standing there looking at the mighty waves.  Looked back at Cassidy sitting on the sand all wrapped up trying to trap any heat wanting to escape trough the plastic cup that she was tightly holding in the palm of her hands. She gave us a grin and waved back to us.

"I'm so pleased I can be still here with you, this is what makes me go on, fighting time, making the most of the little I have left". What an amazing woman she is I thought, grateful for every breath she takes. I want to grow old just like her, holding no regrets, just memories dear to me, with the people I love and making the most while they are still here.

Walked along the beach already crowded with people trying to make the most of the little sun that escaped trough the cloudy sky. We made it next to Cassidy and shared a few smiles and a few chocolates snapping a few last shots to capture the beauty within that windy day, shared with people dear to me.

Left the beach with the promise to come back soon, to share more memories and even more smiles. It would have not been a complete day if not ended with a sunset. Watched it from home..our home..having tea with a soft whisper of a breeze promising  that summer will be here soon...

Pictures by Hotei ©

Perfect is just a myth

Mistakes...I have done a whole bunch of them in my life, but I always try not to regret any of them. I have come a long way since I have started this long journey. Now that I have come this far I feel more mature perhaps much stronger, my personality changed morphing my feelings for you with it.

Its funny how things turn out to be, everything happens when you least expect it to happen. I always told myself that the day I meet you I was just too early now that you decided to call my name I'm afraid you are simply to late. I know you don't believe me but I loved you even if I tasted your poison over and over again, and still I fell for you time and time again. I know you don't believe me but I'm ready to turn my back on you without ever looking back.

I am not sad, I am just angry. Angry for the way  I have been treated. For the many times I have been deceived, and for the fact that I let you deceive me in the first place. I can't hate you, no! I simply can't, but you do make me angry. Angry not with yourself but with my own self for believing in you and all of your lies. I believe you  even when I know you lie, guess this is what stupid sentiments lead to. Go on you can lie to me, pretend you really mean what you say.

You play the role of the one who is holy, making me look like I was the one who was wrong. But can't you see? now they know it was you all-along. I am ready to face the mistakes I commit, but I'll be taking you down with me making you choke and drown in your own contradictions and lies.

I know you don't believe me but if you ever need me I be there, this is how much important you have been to me. I have been here before, so now I know the game you play, and besides the game is not fun if we'r not two to play. So don't try to force words down my throat this time, I'm not a child any more. Long I have learned that perfect does not exist...

How does it feel now that you lost your king's throne?

We constantly learn, we learn from those who show us to be better and we learn even more from those who want us to be worst by showing us what wrong is. 

Picture by tumblr (Attaining Nirvana)