Winter List
MyStories
Category: MyStories
Ocean Thoughts
Look at them,
And all the energy they have,
They’re like us, baby, exactly like us,
Only us are bigger, more powerful,
Only not wiser, what we cannot see,
We think it cannot be.
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Winter Wine
I love autumn terracotta colours. Yet, when winter approaches it comes by the hand of a cold whitish whisper. Both like to settle softly around the whole island. I resent them, I resist them as much as I can.
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Yoga and Cultural Appropriation
My Stories
Yoga is the realm in which I see Cultural appropriation vs cultural appreciation crashing the most. It is becoming more and more difficult to look the other way without realising how Western Cultures have appropriated and misrepresented this ancient Indian practice. Let’s start by something: Yoga is not fitness. One not does yoga to become prettier, skinnier, stronger, even healthier. That is not what Yoga is aimed for.
Read MoreEnglish Breakfast
My Stories
‘The tea bags are not for those who truly like to drink tea’, —only the smelly, fresh leaves is what gives the flavour to the tea. —She used to say—. ‘Once the tea leaves are secured in the cup, add the boiling water. Be careful! The water must not surpass the middle of the cup. Wait until the transparent liquid gets impregnated with the dark colours of the leaves and you feel the soft smells of the tea, then add the exact quantity of milk, not more, not less. Serve immediately and take it to where I am’.
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How Elusive Love Could Be
My Stories
How elusive love could be. It goes from here to there, from there to here, from here to there. You can sit and see it come and scape back again like simple spectators on a tennis match. Or you could go after it, tumbling down and knocking others down, like if it were a rugby game. In any case it would be difficult to catch.
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My New Friends
My Stories
I don’t think I have new followers but new found friends. I have only felt gratitude since I started to dedicate this account to what I love most, reading and writing. That is so when I changed my content, my interest of following big companies also changed, as they would never mind for what I think and feel. And now this blog is full with a nice community of old friends, those who have always been there, because they know me and support me, and the new friends, those whom just have arrived, and have sent a message, to tell me with lovely words, that they can also support me, even when they have never met me. And we talk sometimes, about life, family, and our revolting emotions. And I feel that I could touch their hand right through my computer, and I could offer them a coffee. And I feel that now my virtual reality is as close as my own reality. Thanks to my new friends for being here. Thanks to my old friends because I know you will always be here. Luz
Mothers and Winter are Not Compatible
My Stories
8:30 am today, I had only five minutes to get to school that is only a few meters away. They are insuperable meters when you have to feed, bath and dress three young children. Then the counting starts before putting them on, six gloves, three wool hats, three scarves, six socks. Each of them tiny and elusive, always forgotten in every corner of the house.
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Flaws
My Stories
I try to control my mind. Because let’s not lie to each other, it dominates me, with her steel chains, with those thick links that cannot be separated. Living in the past is my addiction, I like to walk in those memories that revive with all the nostalgia my childhood, school, university, family, friends.
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