Existence

I still exist… somewhere… somehow

Poison

Woke up that day sick, worn out, unable to put the mask of strength on my face.

Laying there in my bed… clouds obscuring my thoughts… sipping coffee my mom made… and trying to swallow those oversized pills that carry the healing powers of our modern time

Text here and there… phone call here and there… looking at my blog… but my ideas were scattered inside my brain… 

Midday

The bell rang … I didn’t care, I am still in bed

My mother’s voice ringing thru the hall, someone with flowers and a package… he needs your signature

Flowers and a package?

For me?

But how? Why? And from who?

My heart racing with excitement… so do names and faces in my head

I went to the door, and here it was, a big bouquet of beautiful flower and a package waiting for my signature

I signed and checked the card. 

It was him… his warm feelings were flowing beyond the few written words… big smile shining on my face… at this moment i could see his strong serious face… choosing carefully his words and write them down… knowing that i will feel and understand what was beyond them

My phone ringing and it was his voice… his warm assuring voice… wishing me well… and wishing that i would like the gift

The gift… i forgot about that… taken by the beauty of the flowers and the warmth of his words

I opened the gift and it was a bottle of perfume

A plump blackish purple bottle… with one word… Poison

This is a story from a faraway past… and I dunno why I remembered it

But when I did… I realized the hidden meaning behind the choice of this perfume

Poison he called me 

And poison I was for him

Poison that he was and wasn’t afraid of

Part of him was aching to take it… and another was trying to pull him away from its lethal impact

Poison… he called me

Poison… I am 

Poison… am I?

I pulled him beyond the gates of the unknown… of the ordinary… of the real everyday life

I was a ghost… a shadow… a dream

With me… He was experiencing feelings that were new… beautiful and magical

With me… he was discovering another face of himself… a face he didn’t even thought it existed

With me… he indulged in thoughts that are beyond his everyday life, and his solid position in the society

He wanted this world… My world… a world of magic and beautiful fantasy

His attraction was increasing everyday… he was knee deep in this endless ocean of mysteries… and with every passing moment.. the feeling  was rooted more and more inside the desert of his soul… spreading like a mysterious tree… nourishing and shading his weary self

He called me poison… the thought of me was taking over him… pull him away from his life… disturbing the sacred routine and peace

He called me poison … but not all poison kills

Poison is also healing

I was his poison … poison to his everyday ordinary life… and healer of his yearning soul to my unknown world

Poison… he called me

Poison… I am 

Poison… am I?

My not so Strange Idea of the Day

With age comes wisdom… and insight

And now I know what it means to be called .. Poison

The Fallen Angel

The world mysteries are ancient as time itself, dark and shocking… and sometimes my mind can’t grasp the idea behind some of them.

Yesterday i slept a human, a basic everyday human, do all what humans do, and feel all what humans feel, human indeed or that’s what i thought.

Today i woke up a descendant of fallen angels, but with no wings to fly me away home, no superpower to change enforce my will, no insight into the unknown obscure future.

A descendant with no trace of my ancient ancestors but a mysterious blood type … that’s rare and unusual… and has puzzled scientist about its origins.

Rhesus  Negative … the Alien Blood … laugh at the face of humanity and tell them there is more than just them living in the universe… and what we ignore is much more than what we know

The theory is based on biblical text, speaking of a superior race - The Nephilim race - who fell from heaven, the sons of God who lusted the mortal women of earth… they mated with them, and a new hybrid is created with an unusual blood type.

But what interested me in all of this is how we are described… they say we are different, our perception of things is different, our psychic ability is different, our sensitivity to the external world is different… many claimed they feel alienated in their surrounding, and long for a place they call home and don’t know where it is.

Some say it is the mark of witches, the descendants of demons, the aliens who visited earth a long time ago 

But i say i am just different… and to be different is not easy… the everyday struggle is exhausting… i had to teach myself how to live and cherish my difference, and carry it proudly wherever i go

It is 3am in the morning, and i started to feel my wings spreading… ready to fly me toward the unknown