Iridescent Spirits

Shelter of a constantly changing Soul.

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Slivers (Rewritten)

In the beginning, it was a rough block of marble standing in the middle of an empty warehouse. Only darkness and silence was around and some small shards of dust kept it company, shimmering from the dim light that came through the small windows on the ceiling.

But one time, the heavy door of the warehouse slowly opened with a creak and heavy, blinding light filled the space. That light was gentle and warm, and dazzlingly bright at the same time. Had the block had eyes, it would definitely have squinted, and maybe it would even have put its arms in front of its face if it had any. But had it done so, it wouldn’t have seen the silhouettes of people appearing in the light. It would have not seen them walking all around it, nor would it have felt some gentle hands stroking its surface, leveling its sharp ends. Slowly, it became rounder and smoother.

Later on, another, strange shape peeked inside from the light. A small and playful one, followed by another and another. A group of little children crowded inside. At first they did not find interest in the shapeless substance, they made their own playground of the warehouse filling it with delightful laughter. But soon enough, on a whim, they decided to make a little friend of their own out of that big and hard ball. They began coloring and shaping it and sometimes they just ran off to chase those glittery shards floating around. When the time had come, they said goodbye to their contorted little friend and left it alone in the dark.

Thereafter a new day broke on the dark building. This time it was different.  Not so glaring but warm and peachy instead. New, unknown people came, each unique in their own ways, different from the previous ones. Some stopped abashed by the sight of the doodles that covered the shape, while others found their long forgotten toys in the scattered colorful piles. Now, they were not only playing with it; some of them talked to it, others cleaned the paint off of it and began scraping it while they were crooning softly. It was not shapeless anymore but started to resemble its visitors; a pair of arms and legs and a round face framed with long and wavy locks. Those gentle hands even put a light linen dress on it.

The weather turned wintry outside and the night breeze frosted onto the hair of the statue like white little flowers. A dim light approached, a young man came with a torch in his hands. He stayed longer than anyone else before. He put the torch on the ground, it filled the warehouse with warm light. He was staring at the statue bewildered while he was slowly walking around it. He was truly surprised that something like this could be found at such an abandoned place. Then, he gently grabbed her arms and put her in a sitting position and tilted her head high up. He smoothly put some wandering hair behind her ears revealing her lovely face and knelt down and smoothed the creases on her dress. Now she had become a very picture of a gracious young lady.  Had he been looking upwards, he would have seen that the statue was looking down at him with a smile on her face. Just as if he had sensed it he looked up right in the eyes of the statue. Eyes wide open he smiled back at her and put her hands in her lap. They were looking at each other like this for a long and long time. He was mesmerized by how the light of torch flickering in the statue’s eyes.

But just like for everyone else, the time for the young man to leave had come. Just like everyone else before, he put the chisel down and turned toward the entrance. He made sure not to leave the door open this time. As he left, the draft stirred up the shimmering shards in the storage and – unbeknownst to him – put the torch out.

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

Read the original chunk here.




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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The F Word

Last night I got a very uplifting message from one of my blogger friends. I have to admit we are real friends now and after talking about our everyday stuff and so on, she told me she’s missing my posts. Well, I miss them too.

To be honest, I didn’t truly disappear from WordPress. I did something worse than that. I came up, read some blog posts, liked them, and even started writing my own stuff. But then, all the great and meaningful ideas that made me writing lost their purpose. I felt that whatever I do was pointless and perfectly stupid. Unfrotunately, this was true for everything I’ve done even outside the blogosphere. I told my friend that I gave up. Not only on blogging but basically everything. I felt that I’m worthless, useless and that I’m perfectly nothing. You know, that is the most dangerous thing about depression. It can control your mind and if you let it it will eventually take the leading role of all of your life. What is more, it does it without you noticing it. Though, at the beginning you just feel something is not right but cannot really name the monster that crawled up from under your bed right into your thoughts. No matter how hard you try you cannot reveal it, because you can’t find it in it’s regular place anymore. After some point, you even may give up searching. I have to say this is one of the worst things I’ve ever done in my life.

I can remember how afraid I was when I handed in my draft of the very first story to writing class, and also I can remember how afraid I was when I published that same story on the blog I started back then. This blog I mean. I was so terrified of what people would say about what I hadwritten. I was scared they would hate it, criticise it or simply they wouldn’t understand it. But I also remember what a great relief and delight it caused me when I read the comments either here in the comments section or on the handouts I got back from my classmates.

Yes, there is something that can petrify me – all of us –  but as soon as I manage to get rid of that frozenness and follow my inner voice I will eventually get my reward for the persistence to keep on fighting. I just cannot let myself forget about this.

So, do you know now what that “F” stands for?

In the hope of meeting again soon,

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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)