The rose

Sometimes I see myself on a wall... beneath me is the sea and in the far distance a setting sun… There are a few clouds in the sky, glowing red from the setting sun’s rays… I am wearing trowsers and a long sleeved top… black in colour and with floral designs on it… A light ocean breeze blows through my hair... In my hand… a beautiful red rose life… I am looking at the rose… I look towards the viewer with an expression of someone who is accepting his faith… my eyes fill with tears… Another wave of light breeze blows… I look towards the rose and a petal detaches from the rose and falls to the ground… A tear runs down my cheek and falls to the ground aswell… ‘’Life… such a beautiful gift… The Rose… The petals, one by one keep on falling from it… Life is twingling…I feel as if it is dying right in my hands… people cannot see the real beauty of life… the few, the very last brave few hide in their homes and there, protected from the outside world they laugh and embrace the true meaning of life… a simple board game and some sweet and sour snakes… and maybe a nice cup of warm tea… 
How am I supposed to show the rest of the world the true beauty of life when they are stuck in the superficial world? Alcohol, clothes, make up and the physical pleasure? The enemies of mankind… They provide happiness for a few moments but if you are not strong enough they will engulf you and slowly consume you, destroy your inner beauty… they will make you miserable and unhappy… and what do you seek when they find themselves in that situation? They seek more of the very thing which is destroying them… Hedonism… 
Beauty is in the simple things around us… waking up in the morning and making the sheets… catching the bus to university or work whilst watching life awake… simple smiles and gestures… simple words of appraisal… the breeze, the trees and birds… our pets, our families, our friends, our rooms and personal belongings… Why cannot they stop for a moment to appreciate the little things in life? Why are they so caught up in that net of void? Why? I want them to see, I want them too feel, the real beauty… the real beauty of the Rose… 

Dreaming the dream within

Sometimes I wish I was an eagle… I’d soar up high on the mountains… All alone… I will spread my wings and feel the cold air going through my feathers … nobody will hurt me up there… I can soar as high as I want to soar… and I will be peaceful… I‘d enjoy that peace, I’d be so happy there… then I’d sit on the branch of a tree… I’d look at the sun… my eyes will shine… and a tear… the tear with all my emotions, my dreams and my hopes will appear on my eyes… it too will shine and glisten in the sun… And the tear will fall… it will fall onto the cold mountain… and there it will freeze, it will freeze with tears like mine... of other eagles which have all perched on that very same branch and dreamt… dreamt a dream about a better world… I pity their faith… Then I’ll wait on that branch… I’ll wait on that branch till the sun goes down… alone… in peace... dreaming… 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i6sIWwEBsLQ

Manners

Good morning, good afternoon, good evening, good night, please, thank you, that is so kind of you, I really appreciate it, if I may, ugh, fuck you, yeah whatever, ok, bitch, asshole, why didn't you? next time I want it better...

Għajjien... il-lejla għajjien... qalbi inħossa tqila... nixtieq nibki, nibki l-emozzjoni, l-espressjoni... dan il-bniedem, dan l-annimal...

Ħajt... 

Il-mewġ jisabat mal-blatt, jantiċipa bil-ħerqa l-ewwel jum tas-sena l-ġdida. L-oranġjo jinbidel f-isfar. Jien u sħabi hawn bilqgħeda flimkien fuq il-konkrit taħt it-torri tal-portamaso waqt li l-ewwel dawl jirifletti f'dawn l-għadajjar zgħir ta' ilma baħar fuq ix-xatt ta' tas-Sliema. Kollha lebsin pulit, kollha lesti għal-aħħar lejl tas-sena. Imma mhux għal-din il-maġija, għal dan il-misteru tan-natura ta' tluħ ix-xemx ta' kuljum. L-istampa, l-kliem, l-memorja ma huma xejn ħlief skuża ħelwa għal-qalb biex ma tinsiex dan il-mument.

It-tajr jtir u jaqsam is-sema. Iva daqt qaluli. Is-sena l-ġdida daqt tibda.

Il-mewġ, it-tajr, u sħabi jafu li ftit minuti oħra ħa jitgħaġbu, ħa jitpaxxew bil-ġmiel, bil-miraklu ta' kuljum. Tluħ ix-xemx li kuljum ninsew. Kemm aħna xxurtjati li aħna xhida ta' dan l-fenomenu, dan l-ispettaklu naturali, supranaturali.

Daqt.

Il-vapuri fuq l-orizont, l-isfar abjad, is-sħab, l-ilma baħar jerħi ruħu fuq il-blatt.

Daqt... Jiġri...

Is-sħab qed jiħmar u sieħbi ħareġ subajħ. Qed jipunta l-lejn dik il-linja li taqta l-baħar min sema...

Fl-aħħar... dak il-ballun nar deher għal l-ewwel darba għal din is-sena l-ġdida...

Ix-xemx...

Ikħal fuq rasi....

Fl-aħħar...

Il-mewġ, it-tajr, għajneja, sħabi, tnejn jappuniżi, jien u qalbi jitrijumfaw fuq dan il-mument! O ġurnata, o sena ġdida, o qawwa tan-natura, o ħallieq... grazzi. Grazzi għaliex il-ġurnata, s-sena li ġejja kompluti.

Kemm nixtieq nifhem dan il-misteru tal-jum...

Il-ġurnata, is-sena l-ġdida bdiet!