Iridescent Spirits

Shelter of a constantly changing Soul.


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“Well, dear. I firmly believe that every one of us has some powers. Each different, that affects differently others around us. One is more visible, the other is not. But I am certain that such unexplainable powers do exist and we only need to find them inside us”

– Grandma from Viridian – The legend

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Slivers

In the beginning there was only a big block of marble in the middle of an empty warehouse. People came and went, from little aged ones to elders, playful children and caring adults; mothers and fathers.

They began stroking the block gently, leveling its sharps ends. Slowly, its surface became rounder and smoother. Later on, a group of children entered, and at first they did not find interest in the shapeless substance. But they soon decided to try and make a friend of their own out of that big and hard ball. They were shaping and coloring it and from time to time they stopped for chasing the glittery shards that flew around. When the time came, they said goodbye to their shapeless friend and left it alone in the dark night.

Soon, new, unknown people came, each unique, different from the previous ones. They cleaned the paint off of the shape. Some of them recognized their long forgotten crayons. This time they did not only use it as a toy but some talked to it instead while others cleaned the warehouse and started scraping the shape. It soon had its own arms and legs. Those gentle hands from long ago put clothes on it. It was not shapeless anymore; the moonlight shone brightly on its nicely carved locks.

Someone left the door of the warehouse open making way to the frost to occupy the sculpture. A young man came and he stayed longer than anyone else before. He lit the candles and warmed up the storehouse. Gently altering the idle arms he placed the carving into a more convenient position. Now it resembled the figure of a gracious young lady, glittering in the candle light.

But just like for everyone else, the time for the young man to leave has come. Just like everyone else, he put the chisel down and turned toward the entrance, making sure not to leave the door open. As he left, the draft stirred up the shimmering shards in the storage and put the candles out.

By the time the dust settled, only the frozen shape of the girl remained there, kneeling on the ground, holding onto the scattered chunks.


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Little Words, Huge Worlds

I have been sitting on this post way more than it was necessary.

There were tons of things and stuff happening to me lately. I don’t even know where to start.  Maybe I should start by mentioning I have moved to Budapest (the capital of Hungary) half a year ago. To be exact on 4 September …

… because I started university. Yes. I decided to try myself in Japanese, even though I already have a university degree in English. I felt studying on my own and taking a language examination in itself won’t be sufficient for me to step into the next level. And to be honest, I didn’t think of myself as someone creative enough to prevail with my Japanese knowledge(?) in a small town where there is almost no need for Japanese speaking people.

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I didn’t know the city, nor anyone living here and nobody came along with me. I had had in mind, that it would be very difficult and both phisycally and mentally tiring, especially since I have to work besides studying, for my family cannot support me. But I had thought I had to take this step so I took it.

Let’s be honest. It IS scary. Even after months have passed by. I’m sure it would be scary for most people, but it is super hardcore for someone with a mental illness. Super hardcore. Period.

Anxiety is not easy in itself and I can confidently say that I have managed to lose my initial goal. What was that again? I am not even willing to go back and read the first paragraph. It is quite okay there, what has happened that has happened. Although, I am still more than ready to throw everything away and go back to the life I had before I moved here. This is one of the things that have kept me away from blogging; I was so overwhelmed by my depression that I have felt everything I had written were some serious crap.

Besides the circumstances, and believe me at this point those are the least important, something has changed. Maybe this blockhead has slowly started to learn the lessons needed.

I have just posted something very little. It is too little in fact, comparing to everything that has happened to me lately, and comparing to those sooo many things I’d want to say out loud. But that post was bigger than I first thought it would be. It made me feel extremely anxious when I was about to hit the publish button of something so stupid and uninteresting. It was the same feeling that I felt when I published my very first post ever. It was scary af, but I LOVE this feeling. This is what I need, I don’t know I just simply need it. It did not only race my heartbeat but raised my mood as well. That led me to a serious revelation; I have stepped out of my comfort zone, just to shut myself into a more uncomfortable one.

So, now I won’t reread this, won’t think about anything, just hit publish and I go to my job in that bittersweet reality.

 

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Little Words

So today I have finally written three hundred words, only in half an hour. Not for the blog of course, but that’s still something.

I have tons to say, too bad those million drafts won’t finish and publish themselves.


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For Starter…

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As for the first thing to write about in the new year, I have to tell you something important. Though, earlier I said I don’t believe in making resolutions, there was something I wanted to try. (By clicking the link you’ll se what I’m talking about, and by the way I’d like to thank the reader who somehow found this older post of mine and reminded me of one of my most important goals in my life 🙂 )

My last year was good and bad, but considering my mental health, which affected my life the most I have to say it was awful. Even despite the fact that I was/am medicated. And this is the point. A few weeks ago I realized something terrible and scary as hell. As a result (or side effect) of my medication I started losing the ability to feel. I couldn’t cry and couldn’t even laugh. Considering this, it is no surprise I was away from blogging, right?

After that realization, I decided I would stop taking medications. I had had my problems even before I started using tranquilizers but the problem was they remained and even got stronger after I got my treatment.

Now, I am taking one pill in every third day instead of taking them each day. In the beginning, it was awful, painful and frightening. Now, I am a bit clumsy, forgetful and goofy, but I have emotions and feelings as well. That is progress! Hopefully, soon I’ll be able to live and cope without any drug and I can gain back the control over my mind and life as well.

As for blogging, I won’t promise anything, I just wanted to tell you all of this.

Happy new year and have a nice day Everyone!

Cheers^^


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The Space to Write – Writing 101 Day 6

Actually there’s nothing interesting about the place where I write.  It usually happens in the refreshing solace of my bedroom sitting on the bed with the laptop in my laps.

I like silence pretty much though when it comes to writing it depends on the form of what I create. If it’s something fiction I like listening to music that ignites my imagination. Besides annihilating noises I prefer if there’s no one around me. Probably this is because of my anxiety but I realised that I’m more axious and it’s harder to gather my thoughts if people are present during the creative process.
And here comes the twist. Since I started working I can rarely enjoy the calmness of my beloved bedroom. Now I hardly have free-time and when I do sometimes I prefer emptying my mind. Other times I am forced to write my blogposts or fragments of stories at my workplace which is like this:

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Repetitive music is buzzing constantly in the background, people come and go and I have to interact with them, which can break the creative flow pretty easily. So this is the least ideal place for someone like me to write.

Even now, I said ‘Hello’ and picked up the phone at least two hundred times while I wrote these approximately two hundred words within two hours if not more. But that’s already a progress!
As people in my country say: The palm tree grows under pressure. 😉


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Regrets – Writing 101 Day 3

Though I’m pretty young, I already have many regrets. For example the thing that I wasn’t confident enough when in my childhood I wanted to learn to play the violin and (only) one teacher said no. I regret not being able to stand up for myself despite the fact that I knew very well what I wanted and what my spirit needed. After all, almost twenty years later my love for the beautiful sound of the violin is still as strong as it used to be, if not stronger. I think, now I would be someone different, richer in spirit if that didn’t happen to me. Sometimes I even think I wouldn’t suffer from panic disorder either. I also regret abandoning playing the piano on a sudden whim that ‘it’s not violin’. There was a time when I felt I would start my life all over again just because of these.

Although, I firmly believe that everything has its own reason. 

I believe there is a point of all the struggles I had to went through and what I am going through even right now. There is a meaning behind my own inconfidence that made me losing my path. There is also a meaning behind the uncertainity and the constant urge to do something valuable that would not let me rest and sit patiently waiting for a miracle that would never happen on its own. For some reason, I had to switch my road to a rough one to finally find, by travelling longer, what I was created for. I believe I need(ed) all the pain to learn how to appreciate myself and more importantly, learn how to listen to the inner voice that is never wrong.

And last but not least it is important to learn to let go all of the fears and those exact inconfidences that were and still are present in my life. To let go all of the anxiety, the pressure I subconsciously put on myself and everything that binds me, prevents me from being myself hiding behind the well-made mask of panic disorder.

So, in the end do I regret all these things I listed above? Sometimes I still do, after all I’m just a human too.