If you love something, don't play with it

"Stop being so stubborn, for god's sake, Lauren!", Jake practically screams in my ear.

"Dude, relax 'k?", I'm not interested in what he has to say. I've already heard enough of his shit and I won't listen to anything else he has to say.

It's always the same thing. He screws up and expects me to run into his arms once he apologizes but that isn't going to happen this time. He thinks he can go around flirting with other girls. I know he and I aren't anything official, that we aren't dating and that we aren't a couple. It's his way, he doesn't like to date people and we never said anything about us being together but it does sort of look like we're together. I mean, we go to the cinema or to get something to eat, but that usually happens when we meet outside school or we bump into each other accidentally.

"I am not going to relax! You know perfectly well that I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! What do I have to do to make you forgive me?"

I don't know if he actually means it. With Jake I can never tell if he only says that sort of thing to me because he wants me to believe it or because that really comes from his heart. I never know if it is true or just another lie of his.

I looked at him, my gaze hard and firm,
"Leave. Leave right now and don't bother to come back"

On the outside it looked as if it were all okay, as if I was actually calm as it seemed. But I wasn't. I was trembling, and on the verge of tears. I'd never done this before. Guys had always left me, never I them. I had never felt this way, Jake was someone who had changed all my plans, turned them around and flipped them upside down. Barely two or three months had passed since I had met him, but he still has that effect on me. I have to control my emotions and not let him get away with this. I know that if we keep talking, the tears that are beginning to swell up will probably fall loose and no way on Earth do I want him to know that this is actually affecting me. I have to be strong. He has already controlled me and messed up my mind enough as it is.

He looks at me and his eyes are full of sorrow. I feel pain in my chest. His pain is transferring into my heart and I'm weakening. It isn't fair. His eyes leave mine and look down at the floor.

"I didn't know that side of you Laurie, you really are kicking me out of my house, my room. After all we've been through, after the endless nights of sleep, after the long conversations, the cuddles, the kisses, those perfect nights." He comes closer to me, speaking in a soft tone, muddling my thoughts yet again. As he lifts my chin up he says,

"My little Lauren Allen, look at me in the eyes, come on beautiful. That's it. Look at me in the eyes while I tell you this. I'm telling you this because I mean it. I can't bear to be away from you. I know I don't date and I've been fighting my feelings for some time now, but I don't think I can keep doing that. I guess these few months have done more to me than I thought. In the beginning we were friends with benefits an I was fine with that but now that feeling of having someone always there for you sort of grew. I can't believe I'm going to say this, I think... No, actually, I know. Lauren, I love you."

I gasp, definitely not expecting this. I'd never imagine him saying that. I'm in shock right now. Him, Jake Wood, just told me he loves me. Jake takes advantage of the situation and gets closer to me. I can feel his warm breath heating my lips, only centimeters away. He closes the distance between us and kisses me. My eyes inevitably close as I enjoy the kiss. Our mouths are intertwined, our tongues playing with each other.

I want to get away, I want to tell him this is wrong. I want to push him off and tell him he can't fix problems this way. But I can't. He is too much for me. He overpowers me and I lose myself to him, ignoring my subconscious one again.

The room is heating up and his hands gently slip down from my face to my back to start tugging my t-shirt out from beneath my jeans. We lean out from each other a moment, so he can pull it of and almost automatically our mouths lock together again. His t-shirt is out soon too and before we know it we are on his bed. It is obvious that both our pants don't fit in the picture anymore. We barely waste a minute taking the other one's off.

We lie down, him on top of me, and we separate a bit. Jake looks down at me, his hair slightly tousled by my hands earlier on. He slowly starts running his hands across my tummy, creating shivers and slight sighs that come out of my mouth. He knows me well. He brings his mouth close to my ear and whispers stupid, slightly dirty things to me which, I hate to admit, turn me on. I know he is already aroused, I can tell by the mini-Jake shaped like budge wanting to escape his boxers.

 I decide to make him suffer and make him pay for torturing me. My hand goes up to his aroused member and softly touches it, over the boxers and hardly enough to make him feel my hand. But brushing over it gives me the response I was waiting for as he closes his eyes and slowly leans into me. I move my hand around that part without moving it any closer and a sigh escapes his mouth. I remove my hand and he opens his eyes, a confused look in his eyes. I know he is hungry for more, I know he is. He whimpers like a lost puppy when he can tell my hand isn't going back.

He whispers my name in a questioning stance. I grin at him and giggle a bit. It's really funny to see him this way, helpless and lonely. He sees my grin and the way I'm holding back my laughter and rolls back in laughter himself. He then suddenly picks me up and throws me back against the bed and starts tickling me. I roll around in laughter, clutching my sides, barely breathing and his lusty laugh joins me.

After a few moments we remain quiet, lying peacefully beside each other, enjoying the silence. He then turns to me, his smile different now, more intense, and draws me to him, to continue what had been paused earlier on. This time, it is my bra that comes off.

We both have that need now, pushing us to accomplish something. Driving us. We don't waste anymore time and take off the few clothes we had on still. After sliding the key to us not having children right now on, he slips into me with a cocky smile, provoking a sigh that escapes my lips as my thighs reach up to him.

After continuous strokes and pleasure, with the final moan we collapse on top of each other, smiling at the other's smile.

I feel relaxed ans safe with him, yet he still drives me mad when he does stupid stuff. We always end up the way we just ended up. It's like he can control me, use me and then throw me away. Yet still, I take the bait while he rows me in. Why do I do that? I should learn to control my hormones. But with him, it's as if I turn into another woman, dependent on him and boy does that make me mad.

I can't believe I just did this again with him. I don't want to be here anymore, I don't want to be in his clutches again, falling time after time. I stand up quickly and feel his gaze on my bare body as I rush around picking up my clothes from the floor. I don't turn around, I already know that he has a self-satisfied grin on his handsome face.I want to punch it and I know that if I were a boy I'd already have done it. How does he manipulate me this way, I'm just another one of his games. Something to help pass the time and never more than that. Once again, I feel used, a feeling that usually comes with him.

After putting on my clothes, I turn around and give him a hard stare.

"No more using me. I'm serious now, Jake. I'm leaving now and this time I'm not coming back. I've had enough of you and your stupid games. There are lots of girls around, and one of those that you are looking for is on the corner of any street. I won't be that type of girl with shattered dreams anymore, it's over between you and I."

As I start going down the stairs, I'm reminded once more of the song 'Because of you' from Kelly Clarkson. This will be just another faded memory, with no need to remember it any longer. The song will no longer be true for me. It's time for a change. Of life. Of him.

....

My mouth is still in a smirk as I watch her leave my room, her hair messed up. But the frown appears when I realize she really is serious. I just assumed that she'd forgive me, like she always does. I guess this time she really is fed up with me. And no wonder she is like that. I screw up everything I do. I've lost her, my little Lauren.

I have to admit in the beginning she really was one of the many girls that passed through my room, pastimes all of them. But as I grew to know her better, I realized I really loved her. She had captured my loner of a heart. And now that bright spark in my life is gone. I know her too well to know that there aren't any chances of her coming back to me, she is really stubborn.I had been honest with her earlier on but I don't blame her for not believing it. I've used that lie too many times

I wrap the sheets around me, they still smell of her. I really do love her.

What is wrong with me! I punch my pillow. Maybe all this was meant to be, maybe I was meant to hurt her so in the end she could hurt me, the way no-one else had ever done. And in this moment I realize. I can't keep playing with girls. And I can't keep controlling them, as if I were better than them. The only person I have loved just gave me a down to earth lesson.

Maybe it's time I change, maybe it's time to turn around my life. I will always remember her as the girl who changed my life, changed my plans and changed me. There might be hope for everyone. Everyone like me. It's clear enough; if you play with something you love, you'll lose it. People should know that, I should have known that. People suffer when they shouldn't. No more playing with something loved, no more screwing around. That never leads to anything good.I lay back on my bed and close my eyes.

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Hey! How are you all doing?

So anyway, some of my friends had been asking me to write something related to sex, and since it is sort of a taboo in this society, at least to say it out loud (or written), I agreed. I'd actually never written nothing related to this subject so it was a new experience for me hahaha (sorry if it's a bit crappy, I tried my best. I could have continued the sexual part but I felt it was two much, at least for now) But I also wanted there to be some sort of lesson, at least help, to those reading. And well, out came Jake and with him Lauren. I hope you enjoyed the story/weird tale.

Here go my questions; Has anything like this ever happened to you? If it has, nobody is forcing you to talk about it but it would be nice to share some opinions. Do you think Jake will actually change? And if so, change into what? I love reading your comments. I do hope you'll want to comment.

The usual, if you want me to tell you that there's a new post my twitter and ask are the links on the left.

I don't know if I'll upload before New Year so I'll wish you now a very happy and wonderful New year and enjoy it's many opportunities.

I love you and thanks for reading

Esther Alós © All rights reserved 

Pure Self

A group of people had stopped to stare at them. At the couple. A girl and a boy. Subconsciously they had arranged themselves into a circle around the girl and boy. The girl blushed, she was really shy, especially in front of a big crowd. The boy stepped closer to her and whispered in her left ear;

" Crystal. Honey, I'm here okay? You aren't alone, I'm doing this with you. Just forget the rest of them, act like they aren't even there. Just concentrate on yourself, never mind anyone else."

She nodded and slipped away from him, still trembling with nervousness. It wasn't that she hadn't ever been in front of such a big audience, what's more, she had been in front of even more people. It was the nerves that started up every time, at first they were only little butterflies fluttering around in her stomach, but then they started to turn into big bugs whopping around as if they owned the place.

David looked at her, looking for any sign that assured him she was fine. She stared up into his face, the face she had been glad to call her own a few years back. When she first met David, their relationship had been like any other; they met, they flirted, and they started dating. It was all very romantic but unfortunately all that died away, and they ended up not feeling the same things they had felt in the beginning. At the end their relationship had evolved to them being best friends, almost to the point that they called themselves brother and sister. They were they only people they had and were always there for the other one.

Crystal closed her eyes and breathed deeply. This was her moment. Her time to shine. Her universe.

The music started to play and it seeped through her body, penetrating her bones as if it were the wind playing sounds and melodies while making patterns through the rocks at the beach on a windy day. It began to drench her like rain pouring on to her fragile and tiny body. At the same time it made her grow. It made her feel strong and it held her up. Since she was little it had been her source of energy, it had been what cured her on those lonely nights after her father had died and her mother had taken to drinking, wasting all their hard-earned money on endless bottles of whisky and vodka, never coming home without being drunk. It had been her only partner and friend when she cleaned up after her mother or when her school mates laughed at her. It had become her life and her way of living, especially after a neighbor had taken pity on her and introduced her for the first time to a ballet class.

That was when her absolute happiness had started. Since then she had improved in every aspect and gained a skill almost unknown to any one else.She had gained self confidence and energy that spurted out every time she heard music. She didn't dance to any particular type of music. She had long gone past that and mixed up different types of music, from ballet and hip-hop, to funky and ball room dances. The only thing that mattered to her was that it was music, that it was her essence.

She started to move slowly with the music, taking in little by little the rhythm, swaying and rocking from one side to another, slightly turning her head too, depending to which side she moved her body to. Then she started with the arms, gracefully lifting them up to the sky and creating patterns with her hands following her feet and legs.

To all those watching it seemed as though they had a swan in front of them. A beautiful swan dancing through their souls, as if it were gliding through the water slightly rising it's wings and creating a breeze that barely sprayed the water close to it.

Crystal felt like a white, pure swan as well, while she flowed though all her movements that were so smooth and so natural, while still being an elegant swan poised to show the world how it was nature itself in it's purest state. And she was sure that was what people were seeing too, as she lived through every move she made, curving and bending in spirals while turning and bowing.

It was appealing and it took your breath away to see her live every small step she took, the way she rose and fell to the music, with every motion and gesture, stirring every heart and giving it warmth while freezing the world around her. Stirring old memories and moments and just feeling the pleasure to see her and feel the dance and melody with her.

She flowed from one move into another, smooth as a summer lake at dawn, or maybe a sheet of ice, sometimes overlapping one movement onto the previous like waves fighting to reach the shore before the other did, but at the same time making it a precious moment in time.

Crystal wasn't even seeing anyone around her. She was in her own place, enjoying this gift life had given her. Eyes closed and body moving, it wasn't her anymore, it was a life itself lighting up her insides so nobody else mattered.

She slowly came to a halt, slightly sweating, with her cheeks flushed with emotion. She opened her eyes and a tear came out .Everybody standing there watching her perform her art started to clap their hearts out.

She wished this feeling on every one of those standing there cheering her on. It was a feeling of being in love with what you did, a feeling of enjoying it and living every second of it. If only people realized that life was about doing what you want, what you care for and taking joy in what you did, just as she had just done.

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Maybe life isn't all about living to it's fullest like most people say, but it's more about enjoying it to the point where you forget everything that surounds you, when only you exist. Only yourself and that thing which fills you up inside. Something that gives you passion and perfection.

Did you like this post? What are your opinions? I do have a question. Think about what really makes you happy, what fill you up inside and makes you enjoy like almost nothing else does. Think about it and comment below, it doesn't have to be something, it could just as well be someone.

Any way, how is your Christmas going? Did Santa Claus bring you anything? Mine brought me some books, makeup and clothes. I do hope you are having a great time. MERRY CHRISTMAS!

And all that usual stuff, my twitter is @estherturbi and you can ask me anything or just chat with me. The same goes for my ask. The links are on the left.

Love you all

Esther Alós © All rights reserved 

Her Part II

(Her, Part 1)
As she began running, she knew she was being followed by the man, as footsteps pattered quickly after her. She couldn't keep running, she knew he was faster than her and probably had much more stamina than her. It was only a matter of time until he caught up with her. She looked around and saw a fire escape on the side of an old building. Desperate as she was, she saw she had no other choice and hurried up, with no way to know if she was going into a worse situation.

As she began climbing up, turning and turning at every floor, she tried to remember what the man looked like. All she could remember were his eyes and hair, seeing as he'd had half his face covered up. He wasn't anything out of the ordinary. He could have merely been a simple bystander, with no role to play and nothing to accomplish. There was definitely no way of knowing it had been him if she found him in the street. But she had seen a twinkle in his eyes, a twinkle of recognition. She was sure he had recognized her, and wanted to kill her, before she found a way out or discovered who he was.

She still had that sinking feeling in her stomach she had felt since she first saw him that she knew him from somewhere. Of course, that might have been because he had killed someone right before her eyes. The fact that he had killed somebody, with a single blow no less, without even stopping to think about it. 

And the poor man, so old and so full of wisdom and knowledge. She had never met anyone who had captivated her so much. Less than ten seconds their encounter had lasted, ten seconds of his life that he would never get back. Ten seconds he had wasted on her, probably knowing they would be the last. And that she was the last person he would ever see. The last person to set his eyes upon and the last to see him breath.

That worried her, the way he had looked at her made her realize that what he had given her and what he was going to say was so important that he had risked his life just to get the message to her. It was something that went beyond the limits of her mind, a mind used to a regular life but nevertheless, trained and made to accomplish whatever mind blowing missions were sent her way.

 But it still worried her. It worried her to the extent that she had stopped, caught up in her thoughts.

She only saw that she had stopped when  she heard the heavy steps starting to climb. He had found her out! She felt him go up, one step at a time, like a predator so sure he was going to catch his victim, so sure of himself that there was no need to hurry. Seeing it like that, it was easy to see why he thought he could make it to her and kill her. She was the useless rabbit, meal to many creatures, while he was the sly, dangerous and crafty fox.

It was just another game for him, just to play with her a bit, the way a cat would scamper around chasing an innocent mouse, trapping it in corners and making it's tiny heart race while reaching for it with it's sharpened claws, attacking and retracting slowly, just for the sheer pleasure of a hunting game. She was the mouse and he was the cat. A game of hide and seek, a game of intelligence, a race for life.

She passed by a window when she started to climb again. It was just a window, it had no importance whatsoever, but it made her realize that maybe one of the best virtues in life was something as simple as a window. Of course, it was what she had seen inside that made her think this.

She had seen a young girl, no more than four or five years old, with her hair held up by bright orange rubber bands in two tiny ponytails, each emerging from both sides of her small round head. She was with her grandfather, or so it seemed, and was climbing on to his lap while he delicately helped her, making sure she didn't hurt herself, but at the same time letting her decide her own path, letting her decide for herself and making her seem important, even if only to her beloved grandfather.

She couldn't bear to look at that scene anymore. It was a childhood she'd never had, a childhood she so desperately yearned for, a childhood taken from her without the slightest care for her feelings, or how that would affect her in life. Her family snatched away from her, leaving her helpless and alone. Those feelings she needed, basic cuddles or whispering comforting words in her ears, stuff she had never had. Things like those that every small child needed in order to feel something good out of life. That's where he had come in, crashing into her life like a bulldozer, a handsome bulldozer at that. He had changed her life in so many ways, surprising her then as much as he still did now. He had taken her out of that dark hole and introduced her to the world, recreating her and giving her hope. Hope that was long forgotten. Hope that had barely existed in her life. Hope that was new to her,a new feeling, a feeling of happiness, something she hadn't experienced almost at all in those few years of live her mother had given her.

A tear fell down her cheek. Clear and transparent it fell, smudging the dirt and dust that had been gathering on her face throughout the day. She quickly pulled her hand up and cleared the water. If she didn't concentrate she would end up walking with her parents and siblings.

She had been going up for a while now, you could tell t was one of the first skyscrapers built around that neighborhood, seeing that this was one of the oldest neighborhoods, and maybe the most dangerous. If not the most, the next in line to be it. Then why what she doing here? And on the brink of being killed. And while we're at it, why had she put up with waiting for him, the way she always did? It made no sense, except to say that she was in love, as much as a person could love another one, she loved him.

She reached a window that had been left open and without stopping to think about it, ducked inside. As she stepped down from the window pane, her eyes began to adjust to the darkness inside that room. It was an oppressing darkness that surrounded her. And it was very stuffy and dusty, you could tell it had not been cleaned out for quite some time. As her eyes adjusted to that overwhelming darkness, she began to make out several shapes. Some were covered up pieces of furniture, while others were statues and little figurines.

Suddenly she heard the heavy footsteps behind her again and spun around, rushing to close the window, which luckily had a lock, taking advantage of that piece of luck and locking it too. She then ran to hide behind something that appeared to be a big armchair. As she sat down behind it, she  made sure the strange man couldn't see her from the window, she leaned out a bit and peeked at the window, waiting for the man to pass. As she had predicted, the man appeared slowly afterwards. Now she could see a bit more of him without risking her life.

He had broad shoulders and you could tell he was well built. He had two or three hairs that barely stood out on his shiny bald head. Petty eyes that stood out because his mouth was turned into a malicious snarl. He looked like he he'd never been kind to anyone or raised a single hand to help somebody out. What's more, he looked as if all he'd done in his life was make the lives of the rest of everybody else miserable. But she didn't think he worked alone, he probably worked for someone else. Someone who had great power, enough to turn his soul into something evil. She could tell it was like that just by looking into his eyes. She was trained to see that sort of stuff, to see into one's soul and sometimes she could even control people with her eyes.

The man ran past the window and continued climbing upwards. She breathed a sigh of relief and slumped against the chair. She stayed like that for some times, absorbed in her thoughts and not really being conscious of time passing. She was replaying everything that had happened that day, since she had woken up to his call, begging her to meet him later on. She then started remembering the past days, and how so many curious things had happened. Even her boss had been acting weird and she was sure something big was afoot but she hadn't dared to even ask. She knew they would tell her in their own time, and even then, they wouldn't tell her everything. That's the way it worked with them.

She put her hands in her coat pockets to keep them warm and felt the rough surface of a crinkled piece of paper. She recalled it was what the old man had tried to give her before being so brutally murdered. She pulled it out, and indeed it was the ruffled, almost broken paper she had snatched up at the last moment. Why was it so important? Well, whatever it was, she couldn't dally on it, and waste time just now to read whatever was on it. She slipped it back into her pocket and let her thoughts wander again.

When her bones started to ache and she couldn't really move, she realized a great deal of time had passed and she slowly stood up, feeling how her muscles protested with every tiny movement she made. She looked around, breathing relaxed for the first time that day and approached a tiny statue standing on the left of her. It was a woman staring up, looking up into the infinity, with a deep look, creating a tingling feeling of mystery. She had some difficulty looking away from it, and stumbled backwards.

Suddenly she heard a sound coming from the door and a line of light from underneath the door. She didn't know what to do and started to panic. She could hear footsteps coming closer and closer towards the room.
Someone grabbed hold of the door handle and it slowly bent while the door began to creak open.


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So anyway, here you go; another of my boring, not interesting post.
What do you think is going to happen? Who is behind the door? And where is her handsome friend she had been waiting for? And that strange piece of paper, what is on it? 

If you have any questions, opinions or you think you know the answers to these questions just write a comment below. Especially if you want me to continue the story or if you'd like me to write about some idea that sprang up in your head.

And if you want me to tell you when there's a new post up, my twitter is @estherturbi .
Keep enjoying life, luv you

Esther Alós © All rights reserved 

Lower

As you know, I've been in love with a boy who goes to my school since practically third grade.

Have I told you how I love everything about him? If I have, never mind, he's worth telling it again. Because it's him we're talking about. And everything about him. The way he walks down the corridor, sure of himself, never looking down and never hesitating. The way he smiles at everybody, whoever they are, with a true smile. One of those that you almost never see anymore, so sincere, cute and perfect. And god, his eyes. So brown they're almost black. Filled with life and optimism. The way they shine and light up every dark corner, even if only because of their beauty.

He is the guy every girl at school is drooling for. He has all the cheerleaders on top of him, and is sort of like the most popular boy in my school. And how does that leave me? Well, as if I were a wall. A wall he passes everyday without paying any attention to it. A wall that is merely there to add to the structure of the school. I am part of the social structure. Only, I'm at the very bottom of it while he's at the very top. Hopeless huh? 

You could say it's the typical story, repeating itself over and over again. The king and the maid. The princess and the pauper. The rich girl and the server boy. Yes, you could say it's that all over again. But I'm not. I'm not saying that. Probably because I have hope.. Probably because i have dreams. And surely because it's true. It's not the typical story, it's my life. Having been in the same school for my whole life, and only loved one guy makes me realize how special he is, and makes we pray for something to happen.

I know nothing will happen, it never does. Because this is real life, and in real life these things never turn out as in the books. Why should they? They aren't stories made to entertain someone. No need to make anybody cry, or laugh. No need to make that perfect ending everybody's waiting for. No need to join us, or as destiny would say; intertwine our lives like a braid to join our souls as one. False promises and devastated hopes.

I saw him at school again. This time it was special; I accidentally bumped into him and as he turned around, I quickly said sorry and ran off. He followed me.

He actually ran after me. He actually chased me through the halls while I tried to escape him.

He caught up. Obviously. He grabbed my arm and turned me around till I stood facing him. My heart was beating really fast and my cheeks had already turned pink. I was already so used to my face burning up, I didn't even notice. That is, until he pointed it out to me while asking if I was okay and why had I fled from him.I barely said ten words. I just whispered sorry and that I was fine, and walked away again. He didn't follow me this time.

So I went to class, thinking that I had blown my only chance to talk to him, and to show him how I really was. Instead of that, I had panicked and messed everything up. I was feeling really dreadful in class and thinking how stupid I was when the door to class opened and he came in. My heart started the usual drum solo it had been practicing for years now, which showed up whenever I saw him.

He walked over to the teacher's desk and showed him a paper. I guessed it was an absence excuse to why he was late. All I could think about was how handsome he looked in skinny black jeans and light blue striped shirt. 

He turned around and caught me staring at him. I blushed and looked down, pretending to read the book I had open. One of the best things of being an outcast at my school was that I sat at the very back alone, which allowed me to mind my own business and not have to pay attention in class.

The next thing I knew, he had plopped down next to me and was asking me which page we were on. I looked up at him, surprised and astonished. What was he doing back here? And what was he doing talking to me? I answered him and looked down at my book again. I didn't speak for the rest of the class and as soon as the bell rang I hurried of. Thank god it was the last class of the day, so I went home directly.

Well, dear diary, as you can see, this day has been full of emotions. Some would say it's an ordinary day, some would say I am weird. But what I say is, how can you love so much a person and know his habits so well, and not be able to speak to him or even look at him in the face.

Diary, thank god I still have you. The only thing that keeps me from going mad and where I can express myself in this world where speaking out your emotions isn't looked well upon. Who knows what will happen tomorrow...when I see him again....

Kisses,

Iris

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So there's a new post. Kind of different. Anyway, I thought a little change might be okay. Did you like it? Do you want me to continue the story? Or is it fine the way it is? What do you think will happen? Leave your comments or opinions below. (There is an anonymous option)

By the way, if you want me to tell you that there's a new post up, follow me on twitter (@estherturbi) or tell me through twitter or ask (htttp://ask.fm/turbs) and I'll tell you when a new one is up. 

That's about it. Oh, wait! I do have news. I've finished my exams so I can post up more often.

Loads of kisses and infinity of thanks for reading

Esther Alós © All rights reserved 

Can she be normal?

Breathing in. Breathing out. Slow breaths, right on time. No agitation, no hurry.

If she was the purest perfection you could find when she was awake, I couldn't even begin to explain what she was when she was sleeping.

Her shoulder-long hair, so soft and straight, fell across her face, only barely shading her face from the morning rays of sun streaming in softly through the open window, along with the warm breeze, giving her a look so  angelic it seemed as though a goddess was laying in front of me.

She stirred a bit in her sleep and mumbled incoherent words in a language made for dreamers fleeing the world and searching new horizons. I stayed still, for I didn't want this moment to end. There weren't many, seeing as she usually woke before I did, sneaking out of bed to make me some breakfast.

I slipped out of bed, already thinking about everything I could make for her. At least in my imagination. In reality, I was the world's worst cook. Even the kid next door cooked better than I did.

Pancakes. Yes, that should be fairly easy.

Twenty minutes later and I wasn't even close to making half a pancake. The kitchen was an absolute mess; flour everywhere, eggs on the floor and the sink filled up with pans and plates and dirty dishes. I looked around and started to panic. I didn't have much time left before she woke up and saw my surprise, which I definitely didn't want her to see. It had to be perfect, at least as close to perfect I could manage.  If I wanted to make it on time I'd have to be fast. 

I quickly picked everything up and tidied it up a bit. Decent enough.

A few more tries later and I had two or three pancakes more or less done. Maybe not so perfect looking but some whipped cream and strawberry syrup soon fixed that up. I put it on the tray with some orange juice (obviously not squeezed out by me) and added the final touch of a few strawberries here and there. I have to admit, it hadn't turned out as bad as I thought it would. Thank god.

I shifted the door open with my left foot while holding on to the tray. I slowly made my way up the stairs and to our room. At least she was still asleep and my surprise still safe. I left the tray on the side table and wen to my wardrobe,  I pulled open a drawer and took out that red rose that was so alive with vivid colors it seemed as though a it had a million little crystals,  all reflecting the light coming in from the window. Id found the roses blooming in a little meadow a few days ago while taking a walk around my house and I thought of her looking at all the roses around me. I couldn't resist cutting one out for her.

She had shifted positions while I'd been gone. Now she was curled up in a little ball, her hand almost in a fist placed really close to her heart, as though tightly holding on to something loved dearly. She cried out and started thrashing about, almost pulling the lamp of the table. 

I hurried over to her;

"Aly! Aly!", I shook her a bit. She still wasn't waking up and was moving a lot.

"ALYSON!", I finally shouted.

She suddenly sat up straight and opened her eyes. Tears started streaming out of her eyes. You could barely see those beautiful coal black eyes I loved so much.

"Oh, Max!", she gripped my arm, "I was dreaming that you were in my arms. We were by the beach, holding on to one another, with the sound of the waves and a warm breeze. It was so real! And then suddenly you stood up and started walking away. And I was shouting out your name but you weren't answering, you kept walking, further and further away. And it was like I couldn't move, like I was stuck to the ground and all I could do was watch you walk away and I wouldn't take it any longer and I have never felt so useless and it reminded me so much of that day and I couldn't do anything all over  again and...and...and...oh, Max!!", she said all in a rush.

"Shh, honey, it's okay. I'm here for you. I'm not going anywhere. Like I would ever leave you. I couldn't stand a day without you. Calm down", I told her as I wiped her tears with my thumb.A smile appeared through the tears and she hugged me.

"I love you Maxy, I really do."

"I know sweetie, I know. I love you too. Do you know what day it is today?" I asked her.

"No...", she had a look of concern on her face, "Have I forgotten an important day? "

"Yes, you have", I replied as I bent my head, looking sad.

"Oh no!! Oh, I'm sorry, i'm really really sorry. Please forgive me. Oh, Max! Sorry! What day is it today?"

"Today...well, actually today is...well, a special day... Today is... Today is yet another day of happiness being with you and loving you!" I answered while giving her a smile and a little laugh.

"Maximilian Jonathan Junior!! I am so killing you!! I swear to God! I am going to kill you!" She jumped of the bed and started chasing me around the room. "I was actually falling for it you *sshole! Come here!"

I was laughing so hard I couldn't keep running and fell to the floor with my stomach hurting from all the laughter. She soon caught up, jumped on me and started tickling me. Oh, my. This was absolute payback. I couldn't breathe now, I was so ticklish.

"Stop... Stop... Aly!....Please! ... I can't.... Breathe...Stop...Stop...", I begged.

"Oh, no, no. I'm not stopping until you say you're sorry for pulling such a mean prank on me, especially after that horrible nightmare."

"Okay...Okay...I'm... Sorry ... I... Won't.... Won't do.... It... Again.... Stop! Please!"

Aly released her grip on me and soon after stopped tickling me. I took advantage of the situation and, catching her off guard, switched our positions, leaving her laying beneath me. I put my face close to hers and felt her heavy breathing on my lips. She bit her lip and stared at mine. I started to get closer to her, closing the distance between us, but doing it slowly, just to make her suffer. She couldn't resist it and raised her hand behind my head and pushed me closer to her, closing any distance that was left. Our lips were locked and our eyes closed, enjoying the warm morning kiss, her tender lips slowly pressing on mine, while our tongues joined together creating a rhythmic dance.

We separated for take a breath and smiled. I stood up, not wanting to hurt her, and helped her up. When we were both up I took her hand and led her to the bed again. She smiled at me and sat down. I turned around, took the tray and placed it in front of her. Her look of surprise and love filled me with satisfaction, especially after she started tucking in.

"Thank you, honey. That was so sweet of you. Come eat with me, please", her eyes were filled with love.

I smiled at her and went over to my side of the bed, where I got in, huddled next to her and started eating.

After finishing breakfast, we got dressed and cleaned up a bit. I helped her get dressed and took the tray downstairs, seeing as she couldn't do it.

After a while, she came downstairs with me too and we went outside for a walk after putting our coats on.

It was a beautiful winter morning. The sun was shining and glittering on the snow, which was everywhere.

I looked at Aly again and fell in love with her all over again, just as every time I looked at her. People had always looked at her strangely but her little imperfection was what made her so perfect. So what if she was missing one arm. She was still human, she was still perfect. And no matter what anyone said, no matter how much she suffered or how many offensive comments came her way, no matter how society thought of her, of people like her, discriminating her as though she were something different, no matter people looked at her badly, I would still love her. I would love her to the end of time. Because she needed to be loved. To have someone love her and tell her she was normal. Tell her what she was, because she WAS normal. The same as anyone else. Just missing an arm. And missing the love and being accepted that disappeared with it.

She'd been through enough. And here I was, loving her like the first day, giving all that love everyone else should have been giving her too, standing by her like they should have. But they didn't. They left her. Society left her. Because of something so dumb. Because of an arm.

I held her hand, kissed her cheek and started walking with her. To a new future. To a new us. And hopefully, to a new world.

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First of all, I want to state that even though people might be missing some part of their bodies, it doesn't mean that they are different and by no means should they be treated like they are something strange, apart, and not welcome them like you would welcome anyone else. This also goes for those who have a sickness that makes them unable to do something or that changes their appearances.They can perfectly live a normal life.

I decided to post again because nobody commented on my last post and I wanted to share this with you. Throughout these past days I've been logging in, and watching how there weren't any new comments made me sad and upset, as if my blog was just another thing in this world of chaos, which it is. But at least for some people, it might be worth something . And I don't feel like it's worth something. Probably, because it isn't worth anything. But for me  it's my way of expression, of letting go of the thoughts roaming my mind. 

And I love the way people read my bog and enjoy it. I love you, all of you. And boy am I grateful to all you readers who read all my nonsense and I love receiving your comments, which is why I ask you again; if you want me to write about any subject in particular or continue any of the previous posts please comment below, pretty please with a cherry on the top, comment, comment, comment, let your imagination flow and tell me everything that's on your mind, but please don't just read and move on. I would really love to hear your opinion.

Well, that's pretty much all I needed to say, just let me know if it's worth.

As always, lots of love and kisses.

Esther Alós © All rights reserved 

Poems

Beautiful poems written by Julie Martinez, I am a big fan. Go check her out at her instagram; @juliemartinez

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So anyway, basically I just wanted to tell you guys that I'll try to write something soon but the next weeks are filled with exams and more exams. I will try though, I promise.

Now, for my next post, I've decided not to write anything myself, instead It's going to be all of you who help me write my post. I know that those who read me are worth something, maybe because you read my blog, faithfully and with patience, for which I am very grateful.

You see, the thing is, that a friend of mine, maybe two or three, have told me that they really liked my post Her and have asked me to do a second part. Others have asked me to continue writing about other posts of mine, or about certain subjects which interest them. I am asking you now to tell me what you want, in the comment section below or on my twitter or ask (the links to them are on the left), your opinions or what you would like me to write about.

And a big shout-out to those who read my blog, reading so many stupid things. 

Loads and loads of kisses to everyone out there, and remember, there will be a new post when some ideas roll in from you guys 

Luv ya

Sophie

My heart started beating fast.

The long forgotten sparkle came back to my eyes.

It had been too long. Too long.

Since I last saw her.

I saw her trudging up the hill towards me. My god, how I had missed her. Her long hair, black as coal, all tied up in a tight braid. Sapphire eyes staring at me from the start of the hill. Small, cute nose, slightly pointed at the end. And that sweet smile, that sweet smile I used to see everyday, till everything happened. Till she was torn from my life. Ten years ago. Ten years since I last saw her, when she disappeared.

She finally made it to where I was sitting. She took hold of the wicker chair in front of me and sat down. We looked at each other for a few minutes in silence, each remembering.After a few moments, I finally decided I had to say something. I just didn't know what to say. After all we'd been through, and we couldn't say anything to each other.

"You're remembering aren't you?", she asked me.

"Can I not, Sophie?", I answered back.

"That's all we have left, huh?", she looked at me sadly.

"It's funny, after everything that's happened, ten years Soph, ten years. I went through a really tough time after losing you, after losing everything i had. You were my everything.", I couldn't help telling her.

"Oh, come on. You know it didn't have anything to do with me. I was so in love with you, just as you were with me. How the hell do you think I felt? Tell me please", she said.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking", I answered.

She looked at me in the eyes and I held her gaze. She was so pretty, she had always been. And I knew I still loved her, just as she loved me. We still loved each other just as much as we used to, but we both knew neither could go through what we'd been through again.

I recall that all the problems started with her father. He wouldn't even let me in their house, so bad was I to him. Sometimes  he wouldn't even acknowledge my presence, and if we casually met in the middle of any known street, he would pass by, completely ignoring me.

Then her mother. She wasn't like her husband, but as bad in other ways. She looked at me badly whenever I entered Sophie's house, and rare was the day when no criticizing comment came from her mouth towards me. And of course, I was her main topic when she was gossiping with her posh friends, all false with everyone.

Sometimes I never even got to see Sophie before hurrying home to be hugged by my own mother because I hadn't been able to stand anything else.

I had been going out with Sophie for three years, and we had been thinking about getting married. Of course, that caused such an uproar that her parents prohibited her to see me during three or four months. I guess that was the last straw.

I couldn't take it any more.

I couldn't live like that.

Even my own father didn't like me sometimes. Coming home when he was there was like going to Sophie's house. It was a horrible experience and quite a few times I even thought of letting go of my life.

I was grateful that I hadn't done anything and that Sophie was sitting in front of me. She had suffered too. Like me.

We weren't accepted and that had affected us.

"I've missed you Soph", I told her. She looked up at me after a few minutes, fiddling with her hands.

"It will never be the same, you know that right?", she asked me.

"I know. You love me and I love you, you always have, and so have I. But we both know that it's over definitely. I just can't take it anymore. Not your family.", I said as I stood up and started to leave, after leaving some money on the table. As I started to walk away I heard a voice behind me;

"Mary," she said as I turned around, "People like us will never be accepted by them, I love you, take care."

I nodded, flipped my long hair and started walking away.


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I wanted to write a bit about social discrimination.

Thank you so much for all the support you've been giving me, especially on my last post. I could tell you sincerely liked it.

Remember, if you want me to tell you about a new post or something, tell me on twitter. @estherturbi. Or on my ask, http://ask.fm/turbs
I LOVE YOU ALL

Esther Alós © All rights reserved 

Ive been through a lot, but im still smiling

We all go through that moment in time that makes us rethink everything we've been through. All those past memories, all those past times. Bad memories, bad times.

I would tell you to stop and think and remember every bad moment you have been through, every tear wasted and every second spent thinking about what you have done wrongly, or what you could have done to make the circumstances change or never happen. I would tell you to stop and remember but, sadly and unfortunately. i don't need to. You can remember unfortunate events. Our brain is made to remember certain things like that, remembering at the same time good things. But we can't make memories go away, we cant make memories disappear, we can't let go of those bad times, because they're in our heads, stuck with glue, glue that only stops sticking with time as it passes by.

And through your life, these moments are the ones that are going to come back and back again.

Stuck inside your brain.

Glued.

Frozen in time.

Frozen in memories.

Frozen in you.

But not in me. No

Not in me.

I still remember those tough times. I still remember how i felt. How people made me feel, with their comments, with their harsh words, digging into my brain, like a dagger into my flesh, creating a new wound that takes weeks to start to heal. Or reopening wounds that were almost healed, providing endless pain.

 How I made people feel, accidental comments that hurt them, maybe some not so innocent, but done on purpose; their eyes filled with tears, how I made them feel I'll never forget. Sad eyes, filled with mist. No one should hurt anyone, because what you see makes you feel worse. I know you know what i'm talking about.

 When someone told me my grandfather had died. Who doesn't feel that at that moment the world crumbles and shatters in front of their eyes? The pain in your chest when you realize you are never going to speak to them again. When they will no longer hold you in their arms or give you cuddles. No more smelling their perfume, no more watching them laugh with your stupid jokes, no more them.

When you were with your friends and suddenly you were the last one standing alone when all the partners were picked, the last one chosen to be in their team, the only one sitting on the bleachers because everyone else had been faster. When the threw paper balls at you with the teacher punishing you while you ended up being laughed by them.

When you went in for a job but someone was prettier than you, and got chosen before you. How after a long four-hour wait on hard, uncomfortable chairs ended with them telling you that the girl who had come in just a bit earlier had gotten the job. The feeling of being an outcast just for your looks that didn't help building up yourself as a whole, unique person.

When your last girlfriend/boyfriend left you for someone else. Those feelings of shame, regret and sadness all mixed together with despair. The way you felt as though you had been used, that feeling that you'll never forget. And when he or she slowly walked away, while you were looking at their hunched up back, as tears welled up in your eyes.

I won't forget that. Basically because i just can't forget that. All those memories and bad moments. They are something that won't leave you're mind. And probably, they never will.

But I won't let them control me. I won't be bossed around by my past, no matter how it left me, no matter how hard it was, no matter how I suffered or the endless nights crying into my pillow. My life never lived on the past, and it never will. Because, what's past is past. If it comes back to haunt me, I'll just push it away, out of my sight. Into the darkest corners of my mind, the furthest i can push it away. It's not worth my time anymore, much less my tears.

I've been through a lot, but i'm still smiling. Because screw those memories, they're only memories. That's what they are.


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i'm really grateful to those who commented after my last post. 

I would like to know if my earlier post called Her was liked in general or not, because if so, i could continue it a bit, or do another short story.

I repeat again guys, there's no problem if you wan't to write a comment. Quite the opposite, i really like reading your comments, they make me happy. Seriously hahaha. If you're shy there's an anonymous option.

And if you want me to tell you when there's a new post tell me through my twitter or ask, even through comments if you'd like. My ask and twitter are on the left. If you go there, don't get scared that it's mostly in Spanish, I'm from Spain, it's not that unusual. But don't worry, if you write in English  i'll answer in English.

Lots of kisses and thank you again for reading. Luv y'all

Esther Alós © All rights reserved 

What if all we possessed in this life suddenly disappeared?

What if all we possessed in this life suddenly disappeared?

That recorder filled with dust from when you were just a kid.

The stuffed animal that made your dreams perfect and kept you warm during the night.

Those old forgotten CD's of artists who have changed a lot.

That good-luck charm pen you used in your university exams.

The books your mother read to you when you barely knew how to read.

That beautiful painting of yours made in pre-school.

Your old photographs.

Your clothes.

That blouse your grandmother gave you for your birthday party. That special dress you wore to that wedding. The T-shirt given by your sister when she was little, filled with paint on her hands.

Your family.

Your grandmother, your grandfather. Sister, brother. Mother. father. Cousins. Even that family who is not so close, or maybe not close at all... Its still our blood.

Your love.

Can you imagine the world without love? All filled with chaos and hate. That special person who is always on the back of your mind, suddenly disappears.

Your friends.

Those that have been there for you almost everyday and for whom you would die.

What if all we possessed in this life suddenly disappeared?

Maybe life isn't all about the big things in life like food, clothes and water, but its more about all those little details that define us. All those little things that our life is made up of.

Esther Alós © All rights reserved 

Her

The breeze made her shiver. She looked at her watch on her delicate wrist and narrowed her eyes. He was late again. The wind picked up again, making her hair fly through the air in all directions. She shivered again, wrapped her coat around her more tightly and huddled close to the wall.

There was clearly a storm brewing. Clouds hid the sun, making it all darker, while mist was beginning to pick up, taking the world with it into a world of grey and fogginess. You could smell it anywhere you went, the smell of rain and water. It was going to be a very big storm.

She couldn't stay there. She knew enough of that place to know that a girl like her wasn't safe for more than ten minutes. A blonde, blue-eyed girl attracted attention everywhere she went, but here she didn't want any one to know where she was, so she covered up her golden curls with a wool hat and put on sunglasses. He had given her those sunglasses so she wouldn't be recognized by anyone.

Now she was really cold and he wasn't arriving. The wind was really blowing up now and she was shivering. It was dark and and shadows went and came, while the lonesome light started to splutter and dim till it finally grew dark. The hour was coming and she knew it. She should have been gone for a long time and still he wasn't there. Sounds were beginning to wake up and you could hear how people began to move around.

It didn't help that the dark alleyway was a very used place for business and deals. That was why she was here, though secretly she just wanted to see him. That was why she was holding on so long, to see his perfect smile coming from his small but defined mouth, his grey eyes, grey as the clouds that had been above her only a few hours ago but firm and harsh, his soft hands that once or twice she had touched accidentally and his well shaped body formed from his many out-jobs and hours at the gym. But she could never tell him that. She could never tell him how desperately in love she was with him because he was perfect, too perfect. And way too superior to her. And he had a girlfriend. She was beautiful, a model, her body shaped to the end with perfect curves, her face defined with high cheekbones and green practically transparent eyes. It wasn't strange that he was going out with her.
She blinked, coming back to reality. More people were wandering around, some of them looking at her strangely. She quickly looked down and tried to remain inconspicuous. Why wasn't he here already? It was going to start raining soon, a few drops were already falling on her light-colored fringe.
An old man hobbled over to her, limping strongly while leaning on an old faded wooden stick. He was getting closer now and she tried to back away but he kept stumbling over to her. She was worried now, her face turned into a frown as she tried to hide that she was afraid. He looked up at her and she saw an old face, filled with wrinkles showing all the years that had passed through him, his eyes were filled with sorrow displaying the many tragedies and disgraces they had seen, carrying the burden with them. So much sorrow were they filled with that it was like they were continually crying, crying in pain. They were eyes that captivated her, that made her yearn for more. They were powerful eyes.

From beneath his coat he pulled his old wrinkly hand, smoothed by the many years of manual work, crushing an old faded piece of paper, with strange writing and held out his hand. He opened his mouth as so to speak, but no words came out, as he was suddenly hit on the head. She looked up with fright as he collapsed on the floor. A masked man had just hit him. She thought quickly and knew she had too escape. And as soon as possible. She knelt down as quickly as she could and grabbed the piece of paper, turned around and fled.

As she began running, she knew she was being followed by the man, as footsteps pattered quickly after her. She couldn't keep running, she knew he was faster than her and probably had much more stamina than her. It was only a matter of time until he caught up with her. She looked around and saw a fire escape on the side of an old building. Desperate as she was, she saw she had no other choice and hurried up, with no way to know if she was going into a worse situation.


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I decided to try and write a little story to see if it turned out okay. But i need your opinion guys. Write a comment below and tell me your opinion. Remember i don't bite, okay? And dont worry, if you are shy or anything, there is an option for anonymous comments. Please comment, it does cheer me up a lot and it makes me smile. Thank you :)
If you would also like to follow me on twitter here you go : @estherturbi and i also have ask ask.fm/turbs. 

Kisses

Esther Alós © All rights reserved 

Amethyst

These rocks? They are called Amethyst. They are mostly found in Siberia, Sri Lanka, Brazil and the far East. The name comes from Ancient Greek because they believed that this rock protected its owner from its own drunkenness.

Its a very curious rock formation, on the outside its a very plain, edgy, dull rock, but, find a small crack, open it up and presto! You have a beautiful rock filled with millions of tiny bits and pieces of crystals, all semi-transparent. Another universe of beauty and light.

I've chosen this rock formation because it is a clear definition of ourselves and everybody who is around us. When you stop to think about it, you realize that no matter what anyone else says, its your own opinion that really counts, so if you thrust out into the world thinking you are the best, you are, and if you are shy and hate some things about yourself, you are too. In both examples, the person we are talking about will only believe their own thoughts and opinion. Which is my this rock is so important. 

It is living proof of the human species. What is most important, to me at least (and im pretty sure that to quiet a few others too), is what is inside a person that really matters the most.

Its that attitude in life. The way a persons personality is defined is something special,, with thousands of tiny nooks and crannies all waiting patiently for somebody to discover them. And all those that are already discovered and make all the imperfections perfect. It makes us appreciate all those little details that a person has, just like the crystals in the rock.

Because inside? That is the real thing

Esther Alós © All rights reserved 

Just that.

The light of life

Beneath the moon and stars, two lights make their way through the dark. One is  slightly closer to the ground than the other one. Both going slowly up the hill. If you get closer you can hear these light talking.

One voice gruff, the other more high-pitched. They are talking about the olden days. When everything was easier and less complicated. When love was cupids arrow and nothing else mattered. When children played with pebbles and clothes. When dreams went outside every boundary. When the idea of the outside world was abstract and barely anything was known. And when fear consisted in your older brother popping out from behind a tree and scaring you.

One stumbles, the other stops and helps. Kindness is its own reward.

Slowly they head up the hill. Its almost dawn now, and as usual, its always darkest before light. A wolf howls in the distance and causes one light to crash into the ground suddenly. Only one remains lit. Now, there is barely enough light to see the path and slowly that one begins to burn out. It has been lit too many hours and is almost at the end of its life.

They are at the top of the hill and by now, the light is trembling with tiredness. It has been going uphill for too long, enjoying its life and shining brightly. It is now closer to the ground than it has ever been and you can see it is really close to its end. It is softly put on the ground, the soft, damp ground. The silence is heard everywhere.

The light is barely glowing now, its life spent.

And with its last glow it is lifted off the ground, while it regains strength. The wolf howls again and the light is a bright glow now.

It begins to move, now only one pair of footsteps. It moves toward another hill, for now it has many more to face again.

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I wanted to write this post in honor of life. It is a metaphor. The old one being with the younger one, until this one gets its first scare. Then the younger one is now protected by the older one and understands why. As they both reach the top, it is time for young age to take over and the older one slowly disappears into the ground while the young begin another of the many hills whose tops are rewards until finally it is helped by other young.

Esther Alós © All rights reserved 

Time

Time is different.
Time is special.
It’s what makes people change.
It’s what makes people be unique.
It’s what alters our life.
It’s what,you know.
It’s what contols everything.

Most people say time is just another thing in life that happens. Something that you won’t get back. But still something of no importance.

You have to think of it this way; time is a gift. Given by somebody (i’m not saying it was given by god, not at all), being that somebody your friend, your family or even your enemy.
Times pases slowly without us really noticing it. It takes away seconds, minutes, hours and years. It takes away memories and moments. But it gives us more memories that replace the old ones, and even more moments to spend with that special person, family and friends.
It takes away life and gives us even more life back.

Esther Alós © All rights reserved 

They took time

And very nice of them to do that too.

Because its true inst it? When somebody is talking about you behind your back and criticizing you, they really are wasting their time and breath in you. They think they are hurting you, but all they really are doing is hurting themselves. By keeping you in their mind, every second of their day, every minute that pases, every breath they take. Cute love story.

That person lives day by day thinking of ways to torture you, of ways to make you cry, to make you hut but the are only doing that to themselves. Think of it this way; you are the clear winner in this silent battle of frustrated minds. This post is for all of you out there who get bullied, or just have everybody wishing you bad things.

I want those people to know that they are perfect in every single way and that they are so perfect that people talk about them, as if they were movie stars. So perfect that a bunch of loony people talking about you can not even make a teeny scratch on your better than anyone arms. So perfect that the have loads and loads of people believing they are perfect, loving them, believing in them.

So let me make this clear, don’t ever let one single of those comments get to you. You know why? Because you are so much better than them. And that’s what makes you perfect.

just remember…i….love…you, but never more than yourself. Because that is true love, and the rest of things? oh they are just there striving to get your attention and love. That love that you have for your own self (even if you don’t believe its there, it is), that everlasting love that sends the rest off.

Esther Alós © All rights reserved 

The truth is inside us

I find it very curious that in this society people often describe themselves as other people have described them. As i one doesn’t have his/her own opinion about themselves.

This thinking is a result of moving around and being with people who care more about what other people think of them than what they they. Their own thoughts. Children grow up in schools, at a very young age thinking they are the best, because of their parents (which if perfectly fine) but it is later on in life when things get tougher; when you are a teenager, you spend the days busy worrying about others opinion of you. No matter if you are popular or shy, you are constantly trying to impress someone.

Then comes adulthood, which is sopossed to have more freedom in style and opinion, but that’s where most people get it wrong. You still have your freedom limited by a certain number of persons who don’t doubt the second they want to criticize you.

And thats where we have to change.

From a certain age.

Teenagers and adults.

YOU ARE YOU. And dont let anybody mess with that. No one, i repeat, no one, has the right to tell you that you are different and have to change, into a stereotype we have created ourselves. Everybody is perfect in their own way. And just becaus ethat person over there sitting with you on the bus is looking at you strangely, it doesnt matter. You turn around, look at that person straight in the eye. It is not necessary to say anything. Its just holdind that look. That look of independence, selftrust.

Your own opionion of your own self. Your clothes, your thoughts, your rights, YOU.

Esther Alós © All rights reserved