O' Children by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

I had a Harry Potter marathon and ended up reliving the years when I would immerse myself in the books. I have read them all at least twice. Here are some strange yet funny memories related around Harry Potter series and my life:
I remember reading 'Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets' in my room when I was nine and a Danish boy with whom I had Tae Kwon Do lessons with came to my house and asked if I wanted to go and get ice cream with him. I remember we just sat on a bench and had ice cream and I thought of how sweet and kind he was.
I remember having a competition with my brother as to who will finish 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban' first; we would turn the pages fast on purpose it was, to say the least, hilariously stressful.
I remember when my family and I went to watch 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire' when I was eleven years old; I was not aware about my sexuality and I felt so upset and guilty for liking Hermione. In the car I kept on thinking 'Harry and Ron are just as attractive, why don't you like them?'. I find that so funny how innocent feelings can be at that age
I remember when 'Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix' came out and my Dad bought my older sister a copy and we ended up having two copies (from Athens) and gave the other to my sister's friend who was eager to read it too. I remember my Mom telling my sister to watch some TV or go outside because she couldn't put the book down and she was worried about her eyesight going bad.
I remember being on holiday in 2007 on a cruise with my family and seeing this British girl reading 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows' and feeling so amazed it was out. I remember diving into the extremely salty turquoise water of the Ionian sea and pinching my nose tight; the water strength dislocated my grasp and I ended up scratching the right side of my upper cheek.

What I wanted to note, having watched the movies years later is this scene in particular - the presence of which I don't remember reading but my memory may have just gone fuzzy. I read somewhere that this scene, Harry Potter, is taking place in 1997 so Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds' song will not have come out yet and it serves as an 'anachronism' apparently. This song reminds me of growing up, accepting change, making changes, accepting situations, taking responsibility and letting go. I have put this track on repeat (another version with the full song) and it reminds me of how I have not seen anything yet. How I have so many obstacles and challenges to meet, mistakes to call my own, people to confide in, travels to go on, love to experience.

Copyright © M.E.S.

Goals for the future

Try making creamed spinach tortellini with shrimp
Try baking your Mom’s apple cake and carrot cake
Visit Greek islands
Strengthen yourself
Read more books
Spend an hour a day doing something new
Learn more about film and history

Copyright © M.E.S.

If you watch a video today, let it be this one

This story, guys. I love how many stories of these exist out there and we do not know even half of them.
How beautiful to find a soul and to feel their heartbeat; to have them share a part of themselves, to actually indulge in their passion and, in this case, dance for you - for your eyes, your pleasure.
I always was fascinated by people who could dance smoothly; those with a story to tell, with sensuality and the mighty ability to grab and cleverly tether their audience - mesmerizing them with every curve and glance to the point of no return.
I envy these people; those who can pour their feelings into what they do and find that isolation, that feeling of togetherness as a separate entity from their observers even in a room full of them - they feel at peace and with that, they surrender to performance. That is what keeps them alive, that is the pure nectar we enjoy from the bearing of their fruit.
That is, essentially, what has drawn me to these types of stories. They're utterly precious and people's ability to choose to risk their image for something greater than themselves is, in retrospect, that with which they redeem most of themselves with because they only get better with each dead end, each wrong turn, each piece of work.
This vindication is why we are here; it is why I find it fascinating and why we connect. We see our weaknesses in characters (mythological or historical) who remain known because they represent the possibilities.
Time and time again, they are the solemn few who choose to go up against all odds and, in the face of their own mortality, celebrate their humanness, their delicacy even if it leads to their ultimate fall.

Copyright © M.E.S.

Finesse

The gentle breeze feels like waves of spectra
Your touch resembles the Doppler effect
Everlasting, on standby.

Your fingers feel like whispers of the past
I can almost remember your eyes-
Whole, silky brown
Almost like a light behind a drop of honey.

If I were to ever see you again, I’d invite you to the little rocks below the Acropolis for some chai -with extra cinnamon- and a Tupperware with string beans!

I’d await a rendez-vous in Exarcheia to share some raki or red wine, holding hands under the table while music plays off at the distance and cigarette smoke fills the air; in our ears it is in tune, with melody but also time reminding us of finesse.

I would be patient to see you laugh or smile at sunset, or a few minutes later.

Copyright © M.E.S.

When you start wearing glasses

Me, while talking to my sister about people who wear glasses: I want to know their stories!

Copyright © M.E.S.

Rachel C. Lewis

"I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans and I cannot believe they really exist.

I love saying, Kiss me harder, and You’re a good person, and, You brighten my day. I live my life as straight-forward as possible.

Because one day, I might get hit by a bus.

Maybe it’s weird. Maybe it’s scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be—to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether its your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands.

But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate.

And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care.

We are young and we are human and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans.

We never know when the bus is coming."

These windows of blue lay in front of me

Their paint, once a bright navy blue, has faded while their bolts, a glistening silver, have rusted

Causing a faint but distinct creaking noise at their opening, just like a broken heart does when it is hesitant of initiating trust

Their patterns have stood the test of time

Their carpenter, now retired, passes by this street on his way home even though it takes him longer

He feels a prick of pride, just like the splinters of the wood on the curve of the points

The right window’s owner went out for a day at the coast while the left’s stayed in for a day of overthinking

The right’s owner is in his late eighties, named Sam and has a love for red wine and circus acts

while the left’s a young woman in her early twenties, named Adriana and had a love with whom she shared wine of all sorts while leaning against a pub echoing with jazz music.

Both live so close together, both see the same view of sunset and dawn but open their windows every morning to a different sight.

How beautiful and sad that an everyday choice can lead to a monument of achievement

(Image source: foxia)

Copyright © M.E.S.