Είναι κάτι τραγούδια τρυφερά σαν χάδια, που αγγίζουν την καρδιά και παρηγορούν το πνεύμα.

Ακούσματα γνώριμα που καταλαγιάζουν τη θλίψη και κατευνάζουν τις ανησυχίες του νου.

Μελωδίες που σε ταξιδεύουν στο χρόνο, νότες που αγγίζουν κάθε νοητή χορδή της ύπαρξής σου.

Ρυθμικοί παλμοί προερχόμενοι από κάθε κρουστό σημείο του σώματός σου, 

νανουρίζουν με έμμετρο τρόπο όλα όσα σε βασανίζουν. 

Γιατί η μουσική είναι αδιάρρηκτα συνδεδεμένη με τη γιατρειά των ανταριασμένων ψυχών.

Γιατί οι στίχοι των ποιητών είναι φωνές ανθρώπων ανήμπορων να εκφραστούν χωρίς λυρισμό. 

Γιατί ο άνθρωπος με ήχο γεννιέται, με λόγο ζει και σιωπηλά πεθαίνει.

 Σε κρατάω σφιχτά, κι όμως νιώθω την αγκαλιά μου άδεια…

Μου δίνεις τόσο όσο, όμως ποτέ όσο θέλω για να σε χορτάσω…

Τη στοργή και την αγάπη σου τις νιώθω σα λεπτές ψιχάλες, ενώ εγώ έχω την ανάγκη να σταθώ στη μέση της καταιγίδας σου για να ξεδιψάσω.

Ίσως το κενό που έχω μέσα μου να 'ναι κάτι εντελώς ολόδικό μου και να 'ναι άδικο από μένα να σου ζητάω να το γεμίσεις. 

Η ψυχή μου όμως ποθεί τη δική σου, θα 'θελα οι σκέψεις μας να γίνουν ένα, τα χέρια μας να ερωτευτούν με το πρώτο άγγιγμα, η μυρωδιά σου να χαρακτεί στη μνήμη μου και να γεμίσει τα πνευμόνια μου, η γεύση σου να μην αφήσει ποτέ πια το στόμα μου ορφανό. 

Θέλω η όψη σου να αφήσει το ανεξίτηλο σημάδι της στις ίριδες των ματιών μου, καθώς το βλέμμα σου θα διαπερνά κάθε φυσική αντίσταση που θα προβάλλει το σώμα μου. Να έρθεις τόσο κοντά μου, που ούτε ένας ψίθυρος αέρα να μην μπορεί να περάσει ανάμεσα από τα σώματα μας. Η ανάσα σου να γίνει και δική μου, το δέρμα σου προέκταση του δικού μου και οι κτύποι της καρδιάς μας αδιαχώριστοι…

Αιθεροβάμωνες σε νεφέλες που φτιάξαμε μόνοι μας ψάχνοντας τρόπο να δραπετεύσουμε από αυτά που μας βαραίνουν, απλώνοντας φτερά ξεπουπουλιασμένα από τις κακουχίες της καρδιάς, καταφέραμε να φτάσουμε έναν ουρανό καθάριο, φιλόξενο, γεμάτο κατανόηση. Σκαρφαλώσαμε σε άστρα και γαλαξίες να φτιάξουμε με αστερόσκονη και δάκρυ κάτι μοναδικά δικό μας. Πιαστήκαμε λοιπόν από ένα σποράκι πικραλίδας που το πήρε ο άνεμος αγκαλιά για να κατέβουμε και να φυτέψουμε το τρυφερό βλαστάρι της αγάπης μας, σε ένα σύννεφο ποτισμένο με όλες τις αποχρώσεις ενός δειλινού γεμάτοι ελπίδα.

 There is a whole world in a tear...

A world of possibilities. A world of unfulfilled promises, a painful mourning of missed opportunities and fleeting moments of happiness. 

It glistens and falls like a raindrop and then more and more rush after it. Cathartic and cleansing as rain itself, a personal and intimate washing away of sadness and despair. Every single tear holds as much pain as it does power. 

Transforming and revealing, it flows down your face caressing every little bit of imperfect, sallow skin as it goes down, reaching the corner of your mouth, giving you a salty taste of sorrow and hope. Savour it, feel it awakening your senses one by one, taste, touch, look at yourself in the mirror, acknowledge your emotions, hold yourself, pick you up, talk to you gently, make you feel as good as you make others feel when consoling them. 

Remember to forgive you as you do others, love you as you love the person that is closest to you, spoil you as you do your loved ones, demand to be noticed if you need to. 

Do everything you need to do for you, no one else will...

 I fell into myself again...

I hardly realized it.

It was a thought that lingered longer than it should.

What was supposed to be a fleeting notion, stopped, stayed and demanded to be entertained...

and then I fell.

The thought consumed me, it fell into the void within me and shortly after so did I.

And there we were, the thought and I, falling, spiraling together, trying to hold on to one another for comfort, but instead, with every touch a searing pain jolted us apart. Like a lover you long to touch, but know you cannot be with and yet are drawn to uncontrollably, as a virtuous man is drawn to sin.

The pain is comforting, at least you feel something and when you are numb and unable to feel anything, hurting yourself, even if it is only by entertaining horrible thoughts, the aching, the yearning, the worry helps you feel something...

I fell into myself again...

and I don't know how to climb back out...

So you've been with someone for a long time, maybe even for the better part of your adult life.
No one has done anything to disrespect one another. Time has passed leaving his marks on your face, on your body, on your soul. Maybe you've grown weary of one another, maybe you've grown apart, maybe everything you're doing now seems trivial and deprived of meaning, of essence.
If you've always been right to each other, if you've always been respectful to each other, if you've dedicated your life to each other, don't be stupid now. Doing something frivolous, allowing yourself to fulfill a whim, see if you still have "it", won't change anything more than a couple of days or weeks of your day to day routine. Another person won't change your life, it might break the rut you're stuck in for a while, but it will definitely break more than that. If you are feeling stuck or bored, don't change the person you are with, change your life together. Go for a long trip, take up a new activity, remember everything that made you fall for each other, learn to have fun together again, don't change the person, change your perspective, communicate, ground each other, learn to hold each other and walk hand in hand forward again.

As women, we are born more than once during our lifetime.
Our mothers give birth to us, breathe life into us and our dads mold us.
As we grow, we reinvent ourselves, break our molds and reshape us.
We meet people that either add beautiful details to our sculpture,
or that dent or break off pieces of the work of art that we are.
Later on, should we choose to be mothers, we deliberately break
ourselves to make room for another life.
We conceptualize a new sculpture, a hopeful, emotional, work of art,
that will bring us a step closer to the love we so desperately seek.
With the births of our children, we ourselves, are reborn.
We reconfigure our bodies, expand our minds, double the size of our hearts,
we break pieces of us to make their sculpture, we cry, we laugh, we yell, we regret a lot,
we don't know what we are doing, we lose hope, we sometimes even forget who we are in the process. We struggle to come to terms with the fact that a piece of us will become and actually is
an independent growing being, walking alone, with only our love to protect them, to mend the dents that us as well as others will make, to help add details to the their own sculpture and hope that we have shown them how important it is to love and care for themselves as we love and care for them.