People not Objects


I just recently lost something really important to me. I’ve never put in so much care and dedication to one thing and losing it was a huge blow. It was so weird to realize how much it actually affected me, it put me in a state of anger, hatred and negativity that it took me off guard.

Looking back I’m actually thankful that it happened. It opened my eyes to how much value I give to material things and how toxic it was. To a point out of anger I told my girlfriend it was more important than her – and that was wrong. SO WRONG. How can such a small thing make say things like that – objects are objects and people are people. They are not the same thing nor should they both have equal importance.

This experience has led me to rethink my life. To rethink how things affect how I feel and what truly matters to me. Today I let go of that, let go of the materialistic identity and transfer all the focus I had on it into things that truly matter the MOST. And that’s to my family, loved ones and people.

Deeply I am saddened. Saddened that I lost something that I worked really hard to get and experienced so many awesome events with it. But really all it was a medium to those experiences, as long as I’ve kept those everything’s fine.

So in the next time I do work for something – it’s not going to be about the value of it, but it’s the value I make with it.


Symptoms Of Bibliophilia [Beware]

So you’re here, why? I don’t know it really depends but I’m assuming you are frightened, frightened for you life most probably because Bibliophilia is a serious condition. It has no cure and when one acquires any of these symptoms just one, well the person is definitely with no doubt what so ever suffering it.

Bibliophilia is experienced everywhere, to anyone and at any time. Despite the random probability of it happening, not much carry such profound “disease” let’s say. If you’re thinking that you suffer from it, then do please have a look at this short list of my discoveries as a Bibliophile.

You suffer chronic Bibliophilia when :

1. You Cannot Stop Reading

It could be about anything, but the main root cause is this simple act. The act of consistently reading all day at all times whatever the reading material may be. It could be the newspaper from a week ago or a random receipt from Starbucks (Interesting stuff you could find there!)

2. You Cannot Move On From A Book After Finishing One

This my friends is one solid symptom that could just smack you in the face saying “You’re a Bibliophile bro” But moving on is one thing and moving on from a BOOK is another. Bibliophiles cannot get this horrible symptom down, never has anyone done it.

3. You’d Rather Smell Like A Book Then The Fancy Better Smelling Perfumes

Okay this I have to agree with, numerous times I’ve caught myself rubbing a newly opened book on my face celebrating each sniff I made during that. I know it’s weird but I suffer bibliophilia.

4. You Believe That The Spine of a Book Is More Important Then You’re Own Spine

You know that crunchy feeling when you’re non-reader friend just opens up the book and bends the spine like “damn it! This book is the portal to heaven I MUST OPEN IT EVEN MORE” Yes I’ve experienced that and I remember crying inside for a week. (I claim no truth of the final line of this paragraph)

5. You Want To Write A Book But You Don’t Write A Book

It’s peculiar how bibliophiles always revel in the thought of being published and having their names on kids walls I mean that would be great but sometimes some of us just aren’t cut out for it. But Bibliophiles never stop dreaming! (Doing is of slight chance)

6. You Sometimes Have Two Of The Same Book

One is for reading over and over again and the other is for display purposes on the glorious book shelf! Trust me, this is NOT OCD.

7. You Buy Books But Don’t Read Them, Collecting Them Perhaps

It’s true I believe. I’ve been to second hand bookshops and have come across brilliant books costing less than a McDonalds Burger and finding myself buying then storing them into my Book Cornucopia accepting that it will be lost there forever without me reading it again.

8. You’d Rather Read A Good Book Then Go To The Coolest Party In Town

I know that these days, the more parties you go to the cooler you be – not to mention popular. But bibliophiles prefer to stay at home against a warm fireplace reading a good book.

So there most probably is more, I’m still in an extensive research of myself trying to understand why we are who we are. But I’m pretty sure there’s more! I’d love to know! Helps a lot with what I’m trying to conjure here! Comment them down below!

I hope this was a fun read! Adios 🙂

[Being a Bibliophile is not bad at all, this was just written for humor and for fun!]

Taking Risks

So I just had my breakfast a few minutes ago and right now, I’m in this internet cafe. My laptop broke down and I pretty much have nothing to type with, unless I wrote something down with pen and paper but what good would that be?

It’s been already three months into the whole “being responsible” thing, in other words “adulthood” albeit me being in an age, in general, shouldn’t be in but I find myself quite lucky anyway. And throughout these fruitful months, actually more fruitful than expected, I’ve learned a lot, from getting out and talking to people, surviving too, but I also understood the truth of taking risks.

I’m pretty sure your mom or dad, or best friend, or grandpa or whatever, advised that you take the leap of fate, or try something new for a change, but what I’m also sure that maybe you never understood the concept well, I mean I didn’t. Sure you must have tried something new, but is that truly a risk? Or did your dad just tell you to do it? And today, in this slightly cold cafe, I’ll try to break it down, while you keep in mind that I may not have the sharpest or let’s say the truest definition of risk taking.

Somewhere around my frequent internet adventures I’ve read that taking a risk means that you’ve chosen to do something you’re afraid to do and doing it anway, and I believe it is true! I mean what other reason would a risk be but for it to be ambiguous and unsure? But when do you know a risk is right, right? (Redundancy!)

There are so many things to take into account here, from my point of view at least. Let’s say you’re about to submit a project in a week’s time and you have this idea, to stand out perhaps, but it too is the lousiest way to go. But if you do it, is it a risk? Chances are it may fail, yes? I mean, it’s the worst thing you could do and that’s what you “want” to do, by doing it does it mean you take a risk? Well yes, but it’s a bad kind. Taking such risks I think pretty much takes away the beauty of taking risks, what’s the point if you just set yourself up for failure?

To me, taking risks is knowing that you have a great idea but realistically is too big for anyone to accomplish and the risk in it is that you’d do it anyway. And in relation to the “project” above, you take the risk to make something great, which would most probably take more than a week to make but you do it anyway. That’s what Risk is.

Risk is taking the leap of fate, knowing that something you’re about to do is greater than anyone could ever imagine, it may fail but you carry on anyway!

What about you? What’s your take on Risks? What advice can you give to those taking risks? Have any stories to tell? All your comments are welcome and are greatly appreciated! Until next time! ..


She Sat There

English: Flowers of Apricot at the rain ( , Du...

English: Flowers of Apricot at the rain ( , Dusheti Dist) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

She sat there. On a rustic green bench placed on a vintage sidewalk winding around a drenched city park. She faced the other side of the road full of shops and what not, from local dress shops to the tastiest coffee shop. It was raining, her hair was wet, her makeup smudged and her 900$ heels wet to the point of breaking. She didn’t care. To her left was a couple, newly found, cuddling under a dark blue umbrella. The man, shielding his love against the rain as if he’d do it forever. Then she thought. What is love? Is it something that happens because we are built to do so? Or is it a choice? To make it or break it? What is life? What is the purpose of existence? Why was she even sitting here? Where did she live? What was her name? Then a flash.

It was like an 80s slideshow, frames rolled against a main light source. Like images meeting a white wall on black and white, that is what happened to her. Images started to flow through, images from her birth, when her mother was still sedated and her father scooping her up from the nurse’s palms, such a small thing she was. Images from her high-school years, her first love, her first heartbreak, her second and her last. She started to feel a pain. A pain because of mere realization. It kicked in. All her monotonous days, her depressive coworkers and the time she wasted. It was seeping in, like a sponge absorbing water. She felt soft. She was melting.

The rain ceased and against the horizon was a sun setting, hidden by the heavy clouds in grays and white. It was a weird view from her left, the couple she saw still stayed, the man pointing up to the sun while his love ignored and held her stare. She cupped his cheeks and gave him a kiss. He turned towards her and looked into her eyes then smiled.

It was sad for her to see that but she looked away and gave a weak smile. She looked up, the sun was blooming fully, birds started to chirp and the smell of rain strengthened. She then stood up, she paused and knew what to do. She decided to turn her life around.

*Main thought I want to deliver on this short is that whatever happens, it’s never too late to take control! It starts from you!