A few years back I had the opportunity to be part of something special - Cafe Writers. In these sessions, we would come together to talk about life and articulate our thoughts and emotions in an open and accepting environment (filled with tea and biscuits of course!).
People from all walks of life, people of all ages, backgrounds and professions, people with learning and physical disabilities; they would be immersed in a world where their imagination and their feelings were acknowledged and left to roam free.


Copyright © M.E.S.

Love comes in all types of shades and gestures; be it a post-it note on the bathroom mirror, a packed lunch, a surprise visit, unexpected adventures, picking someone up from the airport or even looking after them when they are ill. 
It does not need words nor does it require acceptance from others to be validated. 
It is an unspoken pact of respect and care; it allows us to self-reflect while witnessing each other becoming better versions of ourselves.


Copyright © M.E.S.

Amazing performances! What a voice

My grandfather once wrote about a fictional gathering of famous characters in history and their thoughts on important past events of their lives. He wrote:

In attendance, there will be great international guests such as Pel of Babylon, Lucullus, Pampeos, Caesar Augustus, Nero, Hazgerd II, Nestor, Alpaslan, Genghis Khan, Lengtimour, Shah Abbas, Queen Tamara, Gladstone, Sultan Hamid, Talaat, Enver, Stalin and Beria, all linked to Armenian history.

These characters defend, explain or bare their actions on stage in front of everyone.

I find it interesting and wish I could ask him about it, amongst other things. Did these characters know each other in this fictitious cosmos? It reminds me of thoughts I had during Religion Studies in high school - would we meet philosophers or famous historical figures, as they were in their time of living? Would they know about recent technological developments?

Anyway. I came across a picture the other day and wanted to write. These days have been so strange as I usually do not feel such an urge to write but it has been quite busy. Perhaps my mind has needed a change from academic writing. The picture included made me feel something and come up with a little fantasy scenario and I feel my grandfather would be laughing because it just popped into my head a few minutes ago and I instantly felt the urge to articulate it.

Imagine a residence

A getaway location, a purgatory of sorts.

Picture history’s most well-known individuals in different eras of rooms

These rooms shift and rotate to fit the person’s era in which they lived in

The content of the rooms is different and sometimes irrelevant to what these people are known for

For example

Imagine Socrates with Einstein in a room with cooking samples and materials

Visualise Picasso with Cleopatra attempting to play jenga or solve puzzles

Conceptualise Henry the eighth with Rosalind Franklin serving as witnesses to a court case of sexual harassment in the 21^st century

Imagine these stairs being the way to get between rooms and these people not knowing who they will end up with or who it is who is passing them by

Think about the stories, the comedy, the breaking of time in the meeting point of all of these influences!

(Picture: Source:cgmfindings)

Copyright © M.E.S.

Let my tongue trace the muscles in your back

Let me kiss the curve where your breast meets the upper most part of your waist

Let my hair softly fall on the nape of your neck while I go even further

Let me graze my lips on your inner thighs until you experience an out of body experience

Let me make you wait and beg for that sweet release

Let me look you in the eyes when you let yourself go

Let me be a part of your momentary bliss

Let me be your quaintrelle, while you be my muse.

Copyright © M.E.S.

Soundboy by Dub Princess and Sneak Dread

Close your eyes and let your mind wander.

Moderator - Words Remain (Vinyl Extended Version)

And my hands are growing old 
And weary with pain 
Still I fold them to pray 
To the one unchanged 
Yesterday and today 

Marinade by DOPE LEMON

She got attacked by a pack of dogs
But she said it's okay
I got some wilderness skills beneath my belt
She said she used to be a part of a scout team
They nearly made her leader one time
But they didn't have enough thread to sew the patches on
And she said do you know how you heard
About that family that burnt down in that house?
Well that was hers
She said it was just some hoax that she made up
To watch people cry
Yeah she whispered to me softly

Well do you want me?
Just how I am?
Do you need me?
Where I stand
Let's go steady
Let's make a plan
Marinade on that for a while
Yeah

She wanted to die by a river
She wanted the tide to come up and drag her away
So that when she's dreamin'
She can watch the tree line fall away
She used to draw rainbow faces in the sand
But the rainbow made the face sad
Had bits of foam coming out the bottom of its mouth
It's kinda funny that way 

The dynamics of my relationships have often had someone else be my muse. Someone else’s beauty which I admired. A sentiment I could not explain. A connection of humanness, our submission to our natural core and animalistic nature of softness and momentary bliss.

I often wondered why it took me so long to get over my loves. I think it was because I saw their beauty when they couldn’t see it in themselves. It is so delicate and mesmerising. I think this is why I am often fast to give the benefit of the doubt or to feel sorry for people who have hurt me or to forgive, friends or partners. I snap into thinking they will be in an accident or I will never get to tell them how I feel if we ever disagree about anything. I want nothing bad for anyone who has ever hurt me. Sometimes roads are paved without permission or notice but this does not mean there are no positive memories. Having said that though, I have every right to be angry or hurt (which is often the case) if I was mistreated or if something shocked me or changed me with force and disregard/disrespect to what I am and what I stand for. I am really hard on myself when I feel these emotions because I feel pathetic and unworthy of feeling guilty for feeling negativity – if that makes sense? I need to give myself time to heal and that is something I often forget takes a real while and isn’t linear.

I can’t remember the time I made this decision, but I have always been a peculiar child who dealt with situations in ways “unnatural” to the course of the circumstances I was involved in. I am not sure if it was because I lost an important part my innocence at a young age or if I am too sensitive, but it is who I am.

I remember being at a gathering with other Greek and Cypriot people when I was little and there was the mother of a family friend my parents knew. I am not sure what she had but it was loud in the venue and everyone was talking to the person next to them. This grandmother, I could see, was staring into space and no one was talking to her. She even had a carer who I am not sure was at the time. All I remember is the kids my age telling me to come and play and running off. I could not leave though, I could not stop looking at her. I sat next to her and tried shouting louder than the music and she understood some of it. I don’t know if she had a memory problem or it was because of old age but our eyes met and hers had tears in them and she kept on dabbing them with the tissue. I remember patting her hand.

Another time, another grandmother (family friend’s Mom) came around to our house when I was still young and I was hungry so my Mom asked if I wanted to have this sort of porridge called ‘trachana’ in Greek. So, she made some for the guests and I remember she brought them in these plastic bowls that we used to use for breakfast that had a straw built in them so you could drink the milk hassle-free (!). So, I remember she wanted to feed me and I fed her too spoon by spoon. I remember us both smiling to each other and thinking this is interesting but did not know she had Alzheimer’s at that moment; I realised this when I grew older. Her eyes were so innocent and meaningful.

I have changed, I am more mature and straightforward. I have my morals and try my best to become a better human being but realise it is a constant process of learning. In the past, I used to not want to really confront anyone or any feelings because I was afraid of certain things such as rejection, embarrassment or feeling like I was falling behind what my peers were doing even when I was perceived as an adult. Now, I am not as afraid. I feel so much more comfortable and confident.

This post has no point, I just wanted to write today.

Copyright © M.E.S.