After sunset

I love witnessing sunset from where I lay down on the beach. The view of the sun dropping in the infinite sea and how the sky looks when it is painted with orange and pink leave me in a state of peace that I've never experienced at the sight of any other thing. 

But then, the pink and orange sky gets darker until it turns to black.  And the clouds that once united with the sun to create a heavenly landscape, have now united with the dark to create a gloomy one. 

But only when it gets really dark, do the stars start to glow. Only when it gets really dark, does the moon show, and the sea becomes ready to reflect the moonlight on its surface announcing that it's not dark anymore. The scene is heavenly again.

We believe that sunset is an ending and this is where the problem lies. We lose our ability to see the stars because we are blinded by what precedes their appearence, and this is how simply life goes.

See, there's a transitional phase between sunset and the appearence of the moon that despite its darkness, still has its own beauty. Because if you have a long look at the sky during this phase, you'll find out that the sky hasn't totally lost its pink and orange colors. And it is not totally gloomy. 

When we fall down, we think it's the end and we lose our ability to think correctly. 

We forget that we'll definitely be given  another chance. Because unlike people, life gives second chances. 

The two companions

For every single time I was asked if I'd ever fallen in love, the answer was: not even once. Only when I realized what love really is, has my answer changed to be: I've lost count. And, for every single time I wondered if love was painful, the answer was: not necessarily. Only when I discovered what love really is, has my answer been: like hell.

We mistake falling in love for having feelings only towards a person of an opposite gender, and we mistake love's pain for having our heart broken by this person. However, what I truly think; is that we fall in love and get hurt dozens of times everyday, and not by a person of an opposite gender. 

We fall in love with friends and family members, and we feel the pain when we picture our lives without them, when any of them dies or gets hurt or when they travel abroad. We're captured by the beauty we find in our precious belongings, and we feel the sorrow when they're lost. We're enchanted by all the happy memories we once lived, and we feel broken when we remember that they don't exist anymore. We're overwhelmed with limitless dreams, and we fall to the ground when we get stumbled over by reality.

We fall in love with people and we're dazzled by objects. We're dumped by dreams and crushed by wishes. And this is how life goes; you will always be in love and you will always feel the pain. Just fall in love with the precious thing. Because only what is precious is worth getting hurt for.

Just like heaven

"Logic will get you from A to Z. Imagination will get you everywhere." Albert Einstein.

She has great imagination. It has always been her thing. It is what helps her overcome her past, endure her present and shape her future.

When she remembers this time her friend got really sick, she gets rid of the memory by imagining her friend all healthy, and during the period of her sickness they weren't at a hospital; they were having a sleepover.

When she recalls that day she was bullied at school, she fancied standing up for herself and being as strong as she should've been; not a coward who ran away without saying a word. 

When she misses the smell of the sea, when she misses its breeze she opens her bedroom window at four AM. She shuts her eyes, listens to the sound of the surrounding silence then replaces it with the sound of the angry waves and she's just there; on a beach of her own. 

When she misses her father who lives abroad, she looks at his picture and smiles. He is here. They are having a walk, holding hands and talking. They are laughing hard. He hugs her tightly. They are enjoying each others' company.

When she gets worried about her career, she gets lost in what she might become. She's five years older and she's working in her dream place. She's popular among her colleagues and she holds this great position. She's at her peak. She's on fire.

When she gets worried about being trapped; about not being able to break the chains and see the world she puts her headphones on and disconnects from people for a while. She's wandering London's streets. Here is the tower Bridge and here is the Buckingham palace. Now she's in Paris. She's in Venice. Rome. Barcelona. Berlin. Amsterdam. Santorini. Beirut. She's everywhere.

Imagination is her blessing. It gets her everywhere. But when she once stopped and recalled all what she had fancied, she saw how perfect all the fancies were. She knew then that her fancies reflected her hopes, and not all what she hopes for will come true.

She then realized that all what she had in her mind; was a picture of herself in heaven. Because only in heaven, does everything come true. 

Have you tried to draw your soul?

" I tried to draw my soul but all I could think of was flowers"

A female artist based one of her works on this quote. I loved the portrait or whatever it is called as the artist really showed great creativity here. However, what I liked the most was the quote itself. Draw my soul? I never tried to draw my soul. I never actually tried to think about what I'm made of; what made me the person I am today and, this is what I think the person who's been quoted tried to do. She tried to know herself better and she decided to refer to everyone she's met and everything she's been through that led her to be whoever she is now as flowers. 

So I decided to copy her; to draw my soul, but all what I could think of was books. I found myself referring to every moment of happiness, every moment of grief, every moment of hope, every moment of disappointment, every moment of strength and every moment of weakness as books. I found myself referring to every wound that healed, every wound that left a scar, everything that broke me, everything that made me mend the broken pieces, every good memory and every painful one as books. I found myself referring to everyone who hurt me and everyone who stood by my side, everyone who left and everyone who believed in me as books.

Books that have been written by the very same author. An author who exerted real efforts to write these books down. Some of them were flawless and others were nothing but an epic fail. Some of them were left incomplete, undefined and inexpressive. Some of them were perfectly planned for and some just weren't. Some of them were written due to the author's desire to write them and others were written because people've forced him to. Books that have numerous stories, characters and places. Books that are full of emotions and lessons learnt the hard way. Books whose main character was the author. The author is me.

What about you? Have you tried to draw your soul?

And figure out what has affected your personality as a whole? 

And understand how everything however small,

Has contributed in building your heart's inner wall?