Leaves of An Ending Season

Well,

I haven’t been able to post for a few weeks, I think. That’s because I was going through some inner turbulence zone and I needed to hold on to my thoughts and emotions tight to make through and well…. When I opened this blog-thought-writing- thingy-thing to display my cardboard boxes to you, I said only rule is to be open and tell all that comes into my mind. And I sort of wanted to stay away cause my mind was in that turbulence zone which I rather avoid to write. And also, I was writing a letter, which took all my writing power and it needed to recharge. Aaaand yes was avoiding being open with the blog and I was trying to avoid but eh…Rule is a rule.

I’m in my mid-twenties. I wonder to be honest how old I sounded to you folk or how you imagined me (probably you all imagine me as a cat with green alien antennas jumping from one box to another, or as a dodo bird if you know what they looked like).From this point on I believe I will sound like a kid or a teen probably talking about her, childhood problems, but nah, I’m over my childhood traumas and stuff a while back. Of course, the road was bumpy and involved a lot of loud-verbal “communications” with my family relatives and friends as well as some very dark and depressive self-resentment periods and sorts, but well. No matter what is your problem, you eventually need to face it and overcome it. This is a genuine advice. But we all have that one thing, that one box, we avoid entering. I finally face that box. But unlike the usual, box wasn’t a trauma or sadness box but what I would call “emptiness”

I was around 7. Primary school, oh boy when I was a kid, I loved that red uniform and those school bags. I was one weirdo who actually loved school. My backpack was with mickey mouse and had a lot of special compartments with different colours which you could store different books and separate your stuff. Okay I’m out of context again. I was 7. It was winter I had a coat over my uniform. Me and my dad were in car, waiting for the engine to heat. Father had his pockets full as usual, with fresh hazel nuts which he was cracking with his hand, cleaning the shells and then distributing between me and himself. One for me, one for him, one for me, one for him, if I take too much time to chew, he would take an extra and I would complain. Between our foggy breaths and hand rubbing to heat ourselves, you could occasionally hear our hazelnut chewing rituals. It would start as we leave our house, continue as we enter elevator, by the time we sit in car and wait for engine to heat it would be 80% gone and until we reached my school my fathers’ pockets would be empty. He always had a plastic bag for shells for this ritual. Sounds odd eh? Well his homeland is famous for hazelnuts. It was something like an obsession for him I believe. But its one of those teeny tiny pleasant memory you find back of your mind that makes you smile. I believe all of you can pick out a random, unimportant yet iconic memory about your parents. However, in my case, that’s one of the best ones remaining. When you grow out of your teens you realize how those teeny tiny bits actually mean a lot.

My father and I never been in a same page in life. I guess I can write here same way I wrote to him in my letter.

Life is a
perspective. And the perspective varies not only from country to country, but
from person to person. A single concept: Leaf falling ... But two distinct
perspectives and two separate ideas from the living environment. We do not have
the Sakura blossoms, so it is impossible for us to come to the cherry trees,
but if we were to live in those beautiful landscapes where every spring like
pink leaves dance around us, we would have thought of pink before orange as
well.

My father and i have been like two different seasons happening in two different hemispheres. He was never far away, as we lived close to one another. Buy we were unaware of each others falling seasons. I have been through alot due to his actions. Most of my suffering was caused by him, and i never told him how i felt through all his actions. All my anger and suffering, all emotions and problems surrounding my father was solved by myself and by support of my mother and thus, he never knew the thurth about my sakura leaves in a sense. He always been a shallow man, with a face in a total lack of emotions. A professional bussinessman, in his life, and in his father-daughter relation. I respect him nonetheless, a man out of a village found his own way to university and to top of his career. But the road cost him a family. Hard to explain. But, when you live 15 minutes from your daughter and you have a double digit paycheck per month and yet your daughter is worrying over leaving her high school due to lack of money , and barely enough to pay her expenses and food, I believe you kinda fail in the family thing. As i say, 15 min drive awayin one sense, yet two lifetimes away in another.

Anyway no point in talking about the lost things. My message for you all,  there will be always people lost for you,as i mentioned in my last post, the puzzle pieces that wont fit, the shards that dont match and will also be other shards,to complete.

And my recent addition to my puzzle, was a little furry troublemaker.After that story i wrote, I did end up adopting a cat.I will write later about her,i really do want to make a storyline from her eyes. And hopefully i will start posting more often as my life will be a little calmer in december.

A sound piece of advice my friends, dont waste your love on people who dont valuethem correctly or accept them. There is so many  other people and even dogs, and cats and birds and other souls out there that would deserve that love you are pouring  and return it to you with dozens more. Love, my dear friends, need to be contagious, jump from one to the other back and forth. It wont be living up to its fate if it is stuck only on your side, never to be spread.

Share your heart accordingly. It is worth more than you think.