Iridescent Spirits

Shelter of a constantly changing Soul.

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The Key to the Door Behind

Today’s task at Blogging U. is to write about the three most important songs in my life. There have already been lots of songs shared on my blog, either as a supporting feature for a story of mine, or in the centre of a certain blog post. I can say they all are very important to me, so this task was pretty hard for me. After thinking it over I decided I would write about the one and most important song of my life from the time when I was about 4-5 years old.

By now, most of you, who reads my blog, know well that how much music can influence me and my imagination. I wrote about it several times before so as avoiding repetition, now I would talk about my a little bit extraordinary relationship with music from a slightly different angle.

First of all, I hardly write posts when I’m “speaking” just like now, instead I try my best to write gripping stories that tell you about me and my emotions more effectively than I ever could. Well, that’s the thing with music as well. It uplifts me, unlocks doors that had been closed for years and were hiding in the back of my mind without my realisation.

Finally, let me present you the most important song of my life, from Sleeping Beauty… This is the hardest one, because I don’t know wither the composer, or the name of the song. I’ve heard it around twenty years ago, in the Hungarian (originally Japanese) edition of Grimm’s Fairy Tale Classics and it has stayed with me for all this time. Connecting the dots in hindsight, probably that was the one that made me fall in love with the sound of the violin, the one that made the desire to learn to play it a life-long desire, and also the one, that opened my eyes to see the path that led me towards the world of both anime and fairy tales. 🙂 I already know if I ever learnt to play it, I would cry out of happiness the first time I’d play it. 🙂 Though unfortunately, it doesn’t matter how many times I looked for it and how long hours I spent searching it, it never had any result, as if the song would never have existed.

So, now, I would humbly ask all of you who reads this post, that if you know anything about this song, please contact me! You cannot imagine how happy I would be! 

This was my fifteen minutes of free writing. Thank you! ❤

(I managed to find a latino version of the tale, the song starts at 10:28)



Writing should never end.

Yeah, I know I haven’t been blogging too much lately, I’m really really sorry and it makes me so sad. But right now, I’ve just registered to the next Blogging University course, Writing 101. To be honest, I don’t know how I’m gonna balance it with my suddenly changed life but I want to blog. I love blogging, so I’m just gonna do it, I have to do it^^

I can’t wait April to come and I hope you’re gonna be with me on the next challenge to make my blog much much better.^^

Love to the blogging world! ❤

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(Have you read 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami? If not, then, even I have only finished the first book yet, I wholeheartedly recommend it.)

Yesterday was the first day of spring. The beginning of something new. The nature comes to life again, new plants begin growing and people start flowing out to the streets more often, as a result of the finally sunny weather.

Though, it’s only the third month of the year, lots of things has happened to me so far, and I can hardly follow the direction of the occurrances. I can’t see the future at all, and for the first time in my life this makes me feel excited and happy.

For the first time in my life I am not afraid of my mind. The imagination that overflows in me and overwrites my approach to the everyday life. This is the imagination I want to make reality. I cannot see it perfectly yet, I cannot grab it yet, but it’s presence is stronger than ever and finally I can feel it slowly but firmly flowing through the cracks between the world in my head and the one I am forced to live in.

The chasm has started to decrease. Something has definitely changed. Either me, or the world around me, or even both at the same time. My world is now spinning in the opposite direction and I don’t know which is the better yet.

Finally, I’ve learnt that imagination cannot be imprisoned. If you try to lock it up it will be you who ends up in the cell. Imagination is limitless but it can limit your abilities. The imaginary exists only in human mind, yet it is frequently the thing that helps people identify their own reality. Imagination is expandable, it grows into our everyday lives, affects our views and actions, thus it changes our days sometimes without us noticing it.

I found myself starting to prefer things that seem to be impossible or less easy. I subconsciously made a decision that I don’t want to live a safe but boring life, because no matter how hard I try to be safe, things that I cannot control will still happen. Probably this was the thing that freed my imagination and myself as well. And in fact, this makes me to look at the future more positively.

Because, who knows where is that very thin line between imagination and reality?

(Also, In response to The Daily Post’s daily prompt Whoa! )


I’ve Never Really Been a Good Student

Not only I usually daydreamt during boring classes, but when it came to doing my homework I always wanted to do something else. Even at university, when I had to study for an exam I wanted to study for another one that was scheduled later, and when the later exam was near, again, I wanted to study for another. 😀 It was like hell.

And I still didn’t change. As I’ve said before I write stories about me and my struggles. It is time to post the next story for The Colour Book of Spirits published here. I have the plot in my head and I’ve already started working on it, but my mood changed again so this weekend I’ll work on another project of mine that I started earlier. Actually, this one was the first idea that evolved into a whole story into my mind. It will be hard, I know. There are lots of things I still have to face and this story is quite scary to me, not because of the plot itself, but because of the PD. So, I don’t know when it will be finished but I’m sure I’ll be much better by the end of it.
A little fun fact: as I am a not really good student one time I failed an exam because I got inspired and worked on this story all the night before the exam. 😛 Well, this is how inspiration works, I guess.

This one is going to be about my panic disorder, because there were/are many people around me who cannot understand what I’m going through and before the proper diagnosis they ignored or denied any signs of my illness. With this, I want to show them what’s it like, how scary it can be and how hard it is living with it. And also how serious it is. So, you can guess, this won’t be a fairy tale.

Although, the idea came years ago the meaning of the story became clear to me when this dialogue happened between me and my psychologist:

– What is it like when you are having one of those attacks?
– It is chest hurts and I cannot breathe. I have to sit down to the floor leaning my back next to a wall and have to hold myself with my arms bent around me tight, because otherwise I feel like I would fall into pieces. It’s like a crack starting from my chest and it goes all over my body. As if I was made of porcelain, like a doll.
– I cannot imagine this. Try to explain it better.

Well, I will. 😉

Until I finish it, here’s a little foretaste of the mood of the story:


Mr. Sandman Who Works All Day All Night

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Mr. Sandman.”

Mr. Sandman is supposed to come at night. But there are those called Night Owls and those who dream during the sunlight.

I don’t think Mr. Sandman comes only at night but works ceaselessly to make me feel everything’s alright. He comes to me like a ghost, escorts me wherever I go and he strikes in the moment when I’m the most undefended. Whispers to my ears drifting his words to my brain. I am daydreaming. Sometimes about myself or someone who is not me but kind of alike, and I don’t know if this is what I like.

Sometimes, Mr. Sandman sings or plays music that makes my brain work harder and sets it fuzzy. He sends me images, movements, drawings too bad I am not good at any kind of drawing. My hands shaking my ears ringing, I want to make a story that is kind for all of my senses. I am working, working and then comes the night, I can’t fall asleep because Mr. Sandman disappeared with the light. Probably he went on seeing someone else, fulfilling his every-night duty.

Left me alone thinking wildly, just like now with this post, which after I finish, makes me full of worry.