Emir's Mediterranean Cafe - Part 1

Calcutta took his last order and went to the roof for a cigarette after sticking the paper on the chef's sweaty forehead swiftly. He heard the chef murmuring while he was climbing the narrow stairs "two years passed and not even a tiny bit of improvement with your handwriting boy!" Another shift is over, he thought and saw Emir from top, the boss, coming down Liberte Street towards the cafe as if there had been a coup d'etat and they were coming to take over the place in a while, the kitchen, the food, the Ceylon tea and Costa Rican Coffee stocks and all the customers. Last time when he saw Emir like that was during the walkathon organized by some cafe owners of the city to boycott the ban on indoor smoking. He remembered that day and smiled thinking on how funny Emir looked walking so fast with shaking hips like a woman. "Such a healthy protest", he sighed and rushed back to the kitchen whistling and asking himself "what now?!"

Boys and girls, listen up! Said Emir clapping his hands to get everybody's attention as soon as he popped up through the beaded curtain that separates the kitchen from the rest of the place.

...
(there's more...coming soon)

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/songs/?query=devendra%20banhart%20heard%20somebody%20say

Blindness

"The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along.” Rumi

Just for the record

Click the new post button,
before starting to write

read something from Haruki Murakami:

"likewesaid, we'lldowhatwecan. Trytoreconnectyou, towhatyouwant," said the Sheep Man. "Butwecan'tdoit-alone. Yougottaworktoo.
Sittingsnotgonnadoit, thinking'snotgonnadoit." "So what do I have to do?" "Dance," said the Sheep Man. "Yougottadance. Aslongasthemusicplays. Yougotta dance. Don'teventhinkwhy. Starttothink, yourfeetstop. Yourfeetstop, wegetstuck. Wegetstuck, you'restuck. Sodon'tpayanymind, nomatterhowdumb. Yougottakeepthestep. Yougottalimberup. Yougottaloosenwhatyoubolteddown. Yougottauseallyougot. Weknowyou're tired, tiredandscared. Happenstoeveryone, ok? Justdon'tletyourfeetstop." (from Dance Dance Dance)

hold on, before starting to write

take the last sip from the coffee, go switch off the gas before the stuff in the pan gets overcooked, remove the damn socks, stretch the arms, check the cup if there are some drops left in the bottom, smile at yourself doing that, rotate your head clockwise and counter-clockwise, listen to an audio recording of the soothing voice of an artist explaining how he gives birth to his craft, yes keep blinking like that maybe someone comes and writes on behalf of you, ohooo be serious!, start to count the lines and the colors on your ugly sweater (think why you are wearing it then) pistachio-indigo blue-navy blue-purple-black-white (maybe it's not that ugly), now curse at the lazy keys that cause too much work for your fingers, push them once twice or more till you can offer your letters, words, and sentences to the dusty archives of time which consists of a 24/7 library, its guards never sleep never have sex, never leave for walking and watching people eating sunflower seeds in a park, the library keeps recording, doesn't matter if you utter bullshit or beans of sublime wisdom the library finds them worth saving and accepts your intended-or-unintended-entry, so the shelves are heavy with finished and unfinished tales of people sleeping, having sex, walking in a park, eating sunfower seeds...sending missiles & bombs onto each other's roofs, going on hunger strike...tales from their own mouths or from others', the library gathers dreams also so watch out when your unconscious part messes around, (stop here and ask yourself what the hell you are talking about)

Hmmm, did you want to write something?! Maybe next time...
anyway it's too late to push the delete button,
click the publish post button.

Yaaaayyy I'm getting old!

Yesss! Finally I'm an auntie!

just born -sagittarius- 3.6kg- don't now how she looks like:)

Is zero a number or a passion?

Oh doctor, tell me I'm gonna live more!
Oh darling, give me your word you're gonna love me more!
Oh time, promise you're gonna stop whenever I need a break!
1-5-7
At the end of the day you're alone, doesn't matter if you are living by yourself or with a big family, by the end of the day you're alone. When the others around you one by one fall asleep you stay face to face with the walls of your room, doesn't matter if you keep the lights on or off a sometimes-cruel-sometimes-soothing-silence pours over your mind, your ears, each cell of your body. Then you start thinking stuff that you are sure passed by no human being's mind before.
2-9-6
Some feel an orgasmic joy by putting a few words together on paper, some by putting a few colors on canvas, some by putting a few children around their dining tables. I sometimes feel like getting pregnant. I imagine getting pregnant from the clay that Adam and Eve were made of, then watching my tummy get as big as the earth so that I can see with a motherly joy the patterns of the dark lands and the blue seas, the poles, the equator, the two tropics, then joining along with the other pregnant planets to the strings around the neck of the sun and whirling like darwishes, celebrating creation...when the time comes giving birth to a renewed earth with a bright smile and pink cheeks...and with the moon on forehead...and with a leather cover and velvety-skinned leaves...
3-8-4
However all nights are bound to be overcomed by some daylight. And things, objects, people around you start to whisper all at the same time with the dedication of a chorus performing before God that you are not alone
0
that you better follow the warm, familiar breath of your soul blowing towards a certain direction called passion.

KIVA

Do you wana do something about world poverty?

A suggestion:

http://www.kiva.org/

To Lose or Loose Life?

(Painting by Bui Suoi Hoa - 'Blue Kite' )

my broken umbrella spins
turns into a teenage hyper kite
the music starts when I loosen the line

why need to leave behind something,
why prove that I too have passed
along the meadows trying
to improve, rectify, modify something
well even rain leaves
its stain on the ground, smell in the air
and sunny kite days
change our skin colors
then why not
stand on an invisible pedestal
say and justify something

letting
the line slip through
my fingers

moving pictures, stagnant feelings

Do you seriously believe in fate, asked he
cleaning his eyeglasses that often get dirty with his finger prints
I believe in hope, answered she
licking her index finger to turn sixty seventh page of a book

Mauw! The cat jumped onto the coffee table
did his routine stretchings with the paws out front and his butt up and reverse

The parakeet started to sleep on her swing seat.

The minute hand of the clock started to move louder as everything outside got quieter.

Hope is for fools, said he
puffing his pillow

The remote fell down from her hand as she was already asleep.

BBC Kuala Lumpur reporter was giving information about a rehabilitation center for baby orangutans when he changed the channel and found there two politicians discussing the executive order about closing Guantanamo Detention Camp within a year. He changed the channel again. Someone was explaining lucid dreaming in details.

Her eyes moved under her eyelids.