In Love

Love me

Happiness isn't permanent

Daca as fi barbat...

By M.Radulescu
Daca as fi barbat, n-as iubi o femeie pentru frumusetea ei, ci pentru feminitatea ei...
M-as uita staruitor dupa o femeie care nu m-a zarit, i-as lua urma pasilor doar daca as simti ca ma va refuza rece si politicos, pentru ca nu-i place sa fie agatata pe strada.
Mi-ar placea pentru ca merge hotarata si nu se imbraca mulat, ci in alb si negru, nu e rujata si pudrata, ci doar limpede si fragila la vedere...
Daca as intalni o femeie intr-un bar, m-as gandi nesimtit la ea, pentru ca felul in care bea si fumeaza nu m-ar inspira decat spre o noapte de sex dement. daca as vedea-o in statia de autobuz, mi-as face pana ca sa ma uit cum stie sa astepte nerabdatoare...poate ca as parca masina si m-as plimba cu acelasi autobuz, doar ca sa verific ce-i place la un barbat, indrazneala, eu sau ...masina!
Daca ar fi deja iubita mea, m-ar induiosa felul in care mi-ar spune "buna dimineata", cu buzele, mainile, ochii si pielea ei toata. As pleca la munca zambind daca mi-ar face micul dejun si mi-ar spune ca ma iubeste numai din ochii calzi de sub bratul ciufulit. Mi-ar fi dor de ea daca nu m-ar suna intruna si daca nu m-ar intreba nimic cand as veni tarziu de la munca. Mi-ar fi nespus de draga cand m-ar adormi mangaindu-ma pe spate, cu degetele si cu sarutari cuminti. Mi-ar fi greu sa ma uit dupa alte femei cand iubita mea sta picior peste picior cu atata gratie si cand orice rochie simpla pe care o imbraca trezeste dorinta unui alt barbat de a i-o da jos.
As adora-o pentru libertatea de care ne bucuram impreuna si pentru ca nu mi-ar spune niciodata ca-i obosita cand as vrea sa fac dragoste sau sex cu ea.
Mi-ar placea sa fie neajutorata doar atunci cand are nevoie de mine, barbatul ei...
Probabil nu ne-am plictisi nicicand impreuna daca am sti sa ne lasam spatiu si daca iubita mea ar sti sa taca si sa viseze, sa citeasca langa mine si sa-mi asculte muzica. I-as iubi lacrimile doar cand ar fi de dor sau de prea multa iubire si i le-as stinge cu ale mele...
Iar daca ne-am muta impreuna, mi-ar placea sa ma umileasca cu ordinea la care m-ar imbia, m-ar invinge curatenia care n-ar fi doar in sufletul ei, ci si in dulap, in baie, in bucatarie...
I-as duce flori in orice alte zile decat acelea in care ne-am sarbatori anii de cand suntem impreuna si mi-ar placea ca ea sa nu-si doreasca vreun cadou de Valentine's Day...
Femeia mea va trebui sa fie perfecta pentru mine, nu in frumusetea ei, ci in feminitatea ei deplina. Daca nu mi-ar cere nimik, i-as da tot ce nici eu nu stiam ca sunt in stare...
Daca in sufletul ei ar fi cel mai frumos, n-as pleca niciodata de-acolo...

...my freedom

The Invitation

                                                                by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing. It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, 'Yes.'It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back. It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Great Women