On letting go

People come and people go,
What's the sense I'll never know.
No illusions, no despair.
You ain't mine, like I ain't yours.

People hate and people love,
Envy, jealousy and all.
Simple steps to make you shine-
You are happy, luck is mine.

Hold me close, then let me go,
Make me feel your love through all,
Arms enclosed, your heart wide open
I am sure, my eyes wide closed.

Touch is more than words do say.
Noone cares when time to pray.
You were mine, and I was yours.
Noone's others, let us go.

Thanks for all- the good, the bad,
The crazy talks and endless laughs.
Recall me once or twice or always
Keep my image in your head.

Don't get now angry, have no regrets,
Just get the message I wanna send-
Letting go is the best I can love,
Your happiness is above my control.

Չորացած տերևների մասին

Էս վերջերս սկսել եմ մեր տան բույսերը խնամել. ջրում եմ, սիրում եմ: Էսօր էլ բռնեցի ու չորացած տերևները մաքրեցի, հողի հետ խաղացի:

Պարզվեց, որ չորացած տերևների տակ փոքրիկ տերևներ ու ծիլեր կային: Մի քանիսն արդեն չորացել էին, քանի որ օդ, լույս ու հող չէին ստացել. էն չորերը ճամփեն փակել էին: Բայց հիմա, երբ մաքրեցի, մի տեսակ հպարտ դուրս եկան ու տեղավորվեցին:

Չոկոյենք էլ են սիրում տերևները մաքրել: Ուղղակի իրանք չորերը չեն սիրում: Սարթերն են սիրում: Դե մաքրելը որն ա? Ուտում են: Հող են ուտում: Խաղում են: Տերևների հետ խոսում են: Որ ասում եմ՝ խելոք տպեր են:

Էսօր ուրիշ չոր տերևներ էլ էի մաքրում: Դրանց հետ Չոկոյենք գործ չունեն: Իրանք շատ չեն հասկանում, թե տուն ով եկավ կամ ով գնաց: Կամ միգուցե հասկանում են: Չգիտեմ:

Չորացած տերևները մաքրելը լավ բան դուրս եկավ: Մեկումեջ սարթերն էլ խոնավ շորով սրբեցի, որ փոշին մաքրվի:

Չէ, բույսերից չէի խոսում: Փիլիսոփայում էի: Բայց ոչինչ չէի հնարել:

Slow down

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 No resolutions, no plans, no commitments. Living high and free. Not hurrying. Not wasting.
We need to slow down sometimes. We need to slow down and see the little things in our and others' lives- notice the intonations, gestures, winks, looks. Little things make up the big ones.
When we stop rushing, we feel free. Feeling free is really harmonic. You feel like the master of your own life, you simply have time to focus on things. Focusing on one task is far more productive than non focusing on several ones. Time managements is not about running multi-tasking for days, it is about successfully and productively completing the important tasks. Prioritizing matters.

Authentic relationships

I am not afraid to tell people I love them. I am not afraid of losing them.  I am not afraid they will take me for granted. I am not afraid of loving people.

All the disappointments and relationship falsifications I have faced in my life made me believe in true devotions, true love, true friendship.

I have no friends, I have a lot of them. I have never loved a man, I have loved a couple though. We never know what we had till we lose it.

All of you know that not a single person in my life is just a passing by one. I love all of them, and believe me or no, it always comes back to me. I take everyone as special ones, and they take me as such, too. Am I happy about this? I was. Recently, I have been thinking about becoming regular,  taking things regular, noticing the regular. Easier said than done. You are either capable of this or no. I am not the first one.

I hat passing the streets in the memories of people I have lost. One part of Mashtots avenue holds memories of my last job, the other part of it keeps the home of a special one to me. Abovyan street holds memories of my first date, Moskovyan street witnessed my 10 years of schools. I love walking in those territories and  paying my respects silently and conveying my warm hellos to my past experiences.

Similarly, I pay my respects and credits to the people who taught me to appreciate authentic relationships. 

A relationship is authentic when there is love. I might sound (read) crappy, but I do believe in all these stuff, since there is a lot of similar in my life.

People and relationships that make me type this are not simply noticed by me, they are appreciated and cherished.

When I was younger, I was afraid of losing people. I was afraid of giving too much of me.

When I realised no one owes me, and I owe no one, I became stronger.

I see the difference between authentic and almost-authentic. I do not need to mention it all the time. Who feels, does. Who does not, does not need.

Last Christmas

Last Christmas I gave him my heart...

Oh, how I love Christmas.
Oh, how I hate Christmas..
Our Christmas tree has the memories of you and me. I hate this tree, and I love this tree. It remembers how I decided to give you a try, and it remembers how it was left lonesome for the New Year Celebrations..just like you...We were two lonesome souls depending on the Skype connection to live the night that was to welcome this year, the year without you in my heart, in my arms, anywhere. How poor was the Internet connection that night - we got disconnected more than 20 times. The poorer the Internet was the quicker our disconnection stages passed. It took us nothing. I remember me at the airport, I remember me getting blind with the tears in my eyes. I remember me saying "We did not get each other!". Over. That was it. Easy breezy.
I bear the responsibility for us losing each other, and, believe me or no, I am happy for that. 
It just hurts like hell to find the unsent Christmas card for you today. It kills to have a glance at it and remember your big palms stretched to give the unaccepted card back. You wanted me to keep it. I do.  It hurts to hear "our" songs. It hurts to move on.
It hurts to remember the fun and the tough, the love and the hatred. 
It hurts to close the page once and for always.
Last Christmas I was happy with you. This Christmas I am happy without you.
But no matter where I swim, I see the white fishes I want to show you. No matter where I drink coffee, I remember you not loving my doing it. No matter where I take photos, I remember your photos being sent to me when I was far...and that happened too often...
It hurts to see some traits of you in other men. It hurts to feel being followed and to know by whom.
It hurts to let you go.
Last Christmas I decided to give us a chance. This Christmas I give you a chance to be happy with Her, I give me a chance to be happy with Him. You will be happy with Her. I will be happy with Him. We will have the great time. We will have the kids and stuff. And one day, I have no doubt, in a city park you will meet me and say what you always used to say " You are just great". And I will feel great.
Merry Christmas to you.
Hope you will read this post, as you always used to do. Saying you hate reading my blog, still visiting my sweet pages all about you and never telling me anything on it.
Get the unsent Christmas card and let us be happy- you with Her, and me with Him.

On collecting myself together again

Life likes to remind me how dirty people might act, how dirty the streets may be. The clearer the snow, the dirtier the mud becomes. And then it melts. It is gone.
Suddenly my eyes are open, everything comes into focus.....the song says.
I collapsed a couple of days ago. All the dirt of human being. The immoralities smashing on my face. I felt just dirty...with human sins. I felt sorry for thinking bad of people. Then I collected all into my hands and believed I am responsible for everything. The moment I stopped blaming others, though they might be the ones to blAme, i felt strong again.
I was down and moody. One of my former students sent me his academic record with the best performance in the course. He thanked me for motivation and believing in him.
Another former student asked me out to share wine together. She said she missed me. I missed her too.
Another former student said I was the best teacher in his life. The forth one is just there for me all the time, and I do believe, for many years.
My true friends are there for me. They love me, they care, they do.
My family supports me in everything I do.
They all reminded me that failing in one aspect of my life does not necessarily mean I am not that good.
And the strength is back.
And I do not let circumstances influence me any more. I remember theadvice I always give people: do what you should and keep your profile low. There Are things I cannot change. There are things I do.
And I recalled  me returning to my computer one day and finding a sticker on the desktop with the most precious words from our favourite song cited by a great young friend of mine: Never give up. It's such a wonderful life.
Let us notice the wonders.
Love is a wonder and love does rule!!!!
I love you all, you all loving me are just gorgeous. I am happy and rich with you.

Կիսատ-պռատ

Կիսահատված ճանապարհներ` կիսաբախված ուղիներով,
Կիսածխած սիգարետներ` կիսադատարկ բաժակներով,
Դու իմ դիմաց` կիսաուրախ, կիսահպարտ, կիսափոշման,
Իսկ ես անգամ քո կողքին չեմ, կիսահաղթած, կիսակորած:

Դու ինձ կորցրած, կիսակորցրած, ես քեզ գտած, կիսագտած,
Ու քո համար կես մոմ վառած, կես գիրկ պահած, կես սեր պահած,
Կիսատ-պռատ խոստումներով քեզ համարյա կիսակոպտած,
Կիսասառած, կիսամարած, կիսասիրած, կիսասիրված:

Կիսասպասված երջանկություն, կիսահավատ անաստվածներ,
Կիսափռված կիսագորգեր` կիսասիրուն կոշիկներով:
Կիսաավարտ լուրջ զրույցներ` կիսախոցող ակնարկներով,
Կիսաապրած կիսակյանքեր, կիսագտած երջանկություն:

Կիսակարմրած մեր ծառերը` կիսաթափված տերևներով,
Կիսաբախված, իրար հենված, կիսաընկած, կիսախառնված
Կիսահույսով, կիսալույսով, կես-արևով կիսաայրված,
Կիսախաշված արմատներով
կիսասկված մի պատմություն: