Very Inspiring Blogger Award


Yesterday I had the privilege to be nominated for the Very Inspiring Blogger Award, by Viktoryarch to whom I am truly grateful. 

The rules:

The nominee shall display the Very Inspiring Blogger Award logo on her/his blog, and link to the blog they got nominated from. Should you find some inspiration from your other fellows, do not hesitate to mention them (15 nominees).

Here are my fifteen nominees, that I admire, and the links to their pages:
















Also, do not forget to mention three things that  inspired you this week.

The things that (always) inspire me to write:

*My fellow writers, here on

*The day to day , whether small or mind blowing events that are the source, the powering through in my writing.

*My Loved ones ~ last but not least, because my life without them – I simply could not imagine that.


The remains of those days


It has never been that green before, or at least, she couldn’t reminiscence.

The hills, the trees and the grass felt fresher as they vigorously bent under the salty breeze. One of the perks of living on the coast, she thought. When did all this become so foreign to her? After all, it was the place she’d spent most of her life chasing the crisp blueish breeze that led to no other place but her favorite hide out: a gray and gold mix of slightly pebbly covered sand line, where seagulls often came down and built some nests against the harsh wall of the cliff. Ten years later, and this still was her spot.

As a child, she simply  loved to just zone herself out from the rest of the world, often too noisy to hear her own thoughts. But there, she could think, she could cry and she was free to scream her lungs out if that was her wish. No one there to judge and no reason to confine herself to customary laws – just a bunch of stiff necks, as her friend would nicely put it. Exhaling, she was now one with the shore, as she could feel the wobbly pebbles beneath her feet, as she slowly rocked them. Damp and salty – this was the smell that brought back memories and that made her feel as if she were still a child. It was amazing how one simple breeze can take you back to the past as if nothing had ever changed. By this time, she would have heard her mother’s voice, generous and slightly worried, calling her back for supper.

She opened her eyes.

Now the gray rising tides had found themselves mirrored in her eyes – humid and sad around the corners. Then she realized that things did change and also, that this was the reason why she’d never been able to pull herself together and come back home. The entire coast was impregnated with her mother’s image and smell. Because she loved so much being near the sea, her mother would always smell like the breeze: warm, salty, crisp. Especially in the night time when embracing her good night, mom’s touch was soft and invigorating, sending away all the bad dreams – oh, how much she craved that reassuring touch. That place was her mother. Now that she was no longer there, things would never be as they used to, that is, never complete. However, this did not mean that turning back on her heels and leaving was the safest or sanest thing to do, she now realized, as at that time she thought it was.

This time, she would stay and let her memories invade her.

And the most surprising thing, she had never felt so close to her mom as she did now.

The Bus Deal


Apparently not all the great things in life have to be fattening, expensive or illegal. Sometimes they might come to you as a considerable lunch discount offer on the back of a return ticket.

Weekend days and everyone is rushing somewhere, anywhere but out of their own houses. Of course that for the more privileged ones this would mean a safe, fast drive to their destination, while for the happy few, as Balzac would put it, there’s nothing more satisfying than depending on the bus’ timetable and shoving the heat drops off their foreheads counting the stops left to go till the descent. Not be misunderstood, I do enjoy the convenient bus rides, it’s even more Eco-friendly, and yesterday it had just the right present for me too.

I would normally consider that the back of ticket is for an advertisement for the new blah-blah at the blah-blah store; this time, it surprised me: A MacDo’s deal for their enormous Big Mac with a side of Medium Fries at a very attractive discount. Now, given the fact that I do enjoy sales season more than any other season, it was only normal that I would check it out. For some reason, people’s faces are almost never that happy and smiley-dovey as they are during this time: everyone’s more kind, more patient and you could see behind every single window, women with their arms full of summer line products rushing to the counter. It’s almost like Christmas!

Today was no different than the past two days, that is thunderstorm in the mornings and melting-yourself-down heat in the afternoons. Nonetheless, I decided to spend this whole Saturday out on the town streets. With no great expectations, just an increasingly consuming desire to loiter around. That is how I found out all the pretty little cafés that (tried to) resemble the Parisian ones, all the saloons with the newest hair highlights trends, even the shabby chic pâtisserie with the best cheese cake ever made, at least on my side of England. By the end of the day, it all culminated with the Carnival parade which although it stopped the traffic, it was a worth while thing to enjoy. Who said the best Carnival takes place only in Rio?

So there it goes, I ended up feeling so much more satisfied and pleasantly surprised than almost any other time when I left the house expecting to find … well, the unexpected, I guess. Everything has only become even more clear to me, that with an open mind and keeping our expectations real, life may actually surprise us. Whether it’s a big mac and fries involved or not, we should never stop believing that the best is yet to come.

Naked Secrets


We walk past each other on the crowded streets.

Sometimes they’re empty, the town’s deserted and our paths would still cross. Sometimes, I wish I knew what was hiding behind those sad, deep eyes.  What are you hiding? The same things that I do? Or, perhaps we’re all keeping the same secrets, safely sealed deep inside.

So many times I wanted to talk to you, grab your hand and steal a few moments of your hurried pace, always marching towards an unseen destination. Sadly, you do not even notice me. We walk the same way, everyday, we trot the same streets, we live in the same building, still, you won’t know my name. Once, you looked at me and I was afraid the look in my eyes would give me away; but you continued your journey. Then, I wished for something I never did before, I wished that I could read your mind and eagerly waited for you the next day. At the same corner, where we always passed by each other, I could see you approaching. My heart was pounding – it was a sort of unreasonable joy, I believe that’s what it was. Now it was going to be different, I knew it. This time, you would raise your head and our eyes will meet. The reciprocal sadness would connect.

I could sense your smell approaching me and there you were. Your thoughts, all those feelings that were rushing through your head pierced me: remorse, regrets, sadness, nostalgia, anger and everything else cut into me so deep, now I was bleeding. Our eyes never met and you were soon but a distant shadow, resting at the street corner, before the lights would change. I called you, on your name, hoping you would turn back and reach out a hand. My being was unable to utter yet another sound and slowly, I painfully managed to drag myself towards you, before the lights would go green, I had to make it. I desperately tried to cling on to the other hurried feet, but neither did they seem to see me, nor to hear my cry.

Finally, I reached you.

But you did not seem to be on the run anymore. Neither it seemed that you still avoided me, because now our eyes met. The knifing pain I was feeling, the desperate cries inside of me, the bleeding wounds … they were all there, imprinted on your face and transfigured body.

‘I give up’ you said. ‘I can no longer escape you.’

‘There’s no need to’, I softly whispered, ‘I am here now’ as I slowly started to fade away.

It was me, your wounded, once passionate heart, you were running away from; the amass of feelings you shut yourself away from. You could no longer do away with me. From now on, I am you.