the treasure at the end of the rainbow

amadeo said in a comment on my last post 'I don't have any trouble getting over my melancholy...infact I get over it so well that I make sure to savor it at the time. We flow through so many feelings I make sure I roll everyone around in my mouth for a minute.'
isn't that just an adorable and gorgeous way of putting it? I love it.
See, I feel that what I am doing is exactly this. I am so fucking surprised by my own feelings that it is actually totally exciting to wake up the next day and see what will happen and how I will feel.
I thought I indulged into my own feelings and you know, be actually pathetic and 'lackadaisicial' ... However, that doesn't seem to be true. I cannot change my feeling frozen insdide by mere power of my mind. It's just there and I have to accept that. It just happens.
And I roll it aroundin my mouth for a minimum of a minute.
I realized a few things today. The last days I have experienced EVERY DAY something totally weird, I had genuinly incredible, weird, fascinating, interesting encounters, each of which would be worth an own post, saw beautiful things and so on. Yeah, as I said before, life seems to have fun with teasing me with all of this instead of giving me what I am craving for.--- But then again...I wrote in one of my letters to D. that the reason why I think we should have met a second time is to give the reason we met a chance to show. Tonight, however, I thought the exact opposite. I thought, that the reason we met shows anyways no matter how I want it to be. 'maktub'. it is written, as the alchemist in P. Coelho's 'The Alchemist' says.
I don't think that we can judge things or overview things when we are in the middle of the process, so I don'T claim to know any of the reasons we met but I claim that there was a reason to it.
As far as I can see RIGHT NOW, after all, is that the emotions you invoked inside of me, David, made me encounter even crazier things than I did anyways already before. I look differently at the world now. It is beautiful, really. I talk to so many people, feel so intensly and there are so many stories, thoughts and considerations in my mind. And I am able to spread my love and my smiles, when I feel once again how joy is overfloating me. One might think, that circumstances you are partially to be blamed for, make me frustrated and sad and all that. They do, they do, but not in a common way. I have lots of moments I am fulfilled with joy, a very deep sort of joy I feel for life and love and people. I meet people, develop thougths, see things that make me all of the sudden incredibly blissfully happy. I look at the sky then, and feel how I am breathing, how the clouds stroke my eyes and how there is life in us... There is no black and white. There is a rainbow of feelings.

--- And at the end of the rainbow, we all do know, there is a treasure hidden..........

ONE day she was walking in all her beauty down the street when she discovered a small little restaurant with organic food. It was all beautiful, the food prepared with love, the tables decorated in such a lovely way. She had a great lunch there and felt so cosy and safe as the rain was pouring down outside in the cold summer afternoon. After a thought provoking conversation about politics and the state of the world and the western civilisation with a woman next to her in the restaurant she went to use the bathroom.

As she opened the door she saw herself in the mirror right in front of her,- totally unexpected. Slowly, trying to catch her breath she fumbled for the light switch and closed the door. It seemed like an eternity but when she felt she was safe in there she dared to throw a second glance.

There she was. IN all her beauty. Breathtaking. Her eyes so grey and green shimmered like glacier lakes today. Her turquoise earrings underlined them in a perfect matching way, her blue scarf (the one you didn't see yet) wrapped elegantly around her head allowed the viewer to focus on her beautiful eyes and face structure. Striking and distinctive it was, despite its roundness and softness. Her neck and shoulders a perfect line. A cleavage like a goddess. She was beautiful. In her fucked up tattered jeans she used when she painted, her tight jeans jacket... BEAUTIFUL, with her eyes wide open, trying to capture what they saw. They saw beauty. They saw HERSELF.

Slowly the eyes fill with tears. like a well in a moisty meadow. In a broken, overwhelmed whisper she susurrates:

'I wish you could see me like that! ----
I wish you could see me like that.'

Such a waste. such a waste.

She can't believe what she is seeing. Such a beautiful, big, proud and graciousn and tender woman she sees. So colorful, so radiant, so aspiring, so full of love, full of hope, trusting energy, loyality, creativity..... so caring, so deep, so thoughtful, concerned...

'I wish, oh how I wish you could see me like this....'

Her whispering voice makes her cry. There is nothing pretensious in her way now. She isn't feeling theatrical or like a drama queen or anything like that. She feels rather like cut out of time and space frames. It is all genuine feeling there, she can't move, she is startled almost, caught by surprise, something nails her down into the ground in front of this bathroom mirror that reflects her in a way she didn't see herself before. She suddenly sees more than she did when she merely looked inside of herself. This is different. The well is flowing...

'IT's as if I was looking at my own destiny'.

Now her reflection is all blurred, it s like saltwater pulling a veil over her head in sorrow.

'It's as if I was looking at my own destiny but I can'T get hold of it, I can't touch it because it is something I have to live, to evolve into...it's nothing I can pursue and catch but something I have to become in an unpossesive way....in a loving way that sets me free.'

...

'It's as if I was looking at my own destiny and I can't get it now because I have to become myself all what I love so much in you. I have to become what I love in you, evolve into it, grow into it, make it grow, explore...

BUT I CAN'T TOUCH YOU.'

The water reaches a tension it cannot hold. The form explodes, the tears roll down the shivering cheeks, the vellicating lips, little sobs make this earth quake.

'It's as if I was looking at my own destiny...

She haws...'...I wish, I wish I could make love to you...' ... ' but it'd be like fucking with my own destiny. And you don't do that.

You don't do that.
You don't fuck with your own destiny.
And it hurts so much...

it's such a hard and difficult process to grow up...'

Her whispers echoed in the blue(s) bathroom in which the beautiful fharsi persian women who owned that restaurant had placed flowers to make even the restroom beautiful... because beauty is what feeds our souls...