Photo Challenge - White

See other white tones in here.

Christmas’ Shoes...

Relationships are just like journeys. Some are short. Others are long-lasting. Some are fruitful, rich. Others are painful and “effervescent”. Some have a destination. Others are tightly wrapped. Trustful ones. Kinky ones. Plain or empty ones. They all exist. Moreover, there are many “love affairs” that finish right on the eve of happy holidays. Still, I am not capable to explain this phenomenon. But I've noticed that. Santa Claus, the old man with rosy cheeks, bombastic belly and swollen nose brings a pair of shoes for everyone. You may receive a pair of shining, glazed, charming boots. Or you may be gifted with a pair of discolored shoes with no heel pieces, no sole, no decorations, no spark. The heaviest and the XXXL-st you have ever seen!

- What now? Who's the culprit? Why me?

Yes, I know. Separation is like a little death. It is very painful, burning, awful when you see your heart breaking and can't heal it. You feel weak. Exhausted. The tumultuous avalanche of feelings, agony and torment of love strangulate every millimeter of your body and mind. In fact, you can trundle and trample your suffering, emotions and sentiments... but not your Dignity. Never!

- “Damn it! What dignity? I love him!” will shriek a lot of you.
- You do! He - doesn't! Any more questions?

Dignity is like a skeleton. A bundle of bones that must be kept always vertically. By all means. That's the ingredient you need the most for bringing into being a durable and beautiful love-story. And if you leave it to break down, bid farewell to your happiness. Terrible, isn't it? Oh yes! Especially when you wake up too late surrounded by 12 yawning cats, 13 fluffy dogs and dozens of talkative parrots that imitate in unison the ring of an old-fashioned telephone.
Now, from that moment when you hear “We must separate! I don't love you anymore”, “I have another woman”, this is it. You proudly raise your mandible from the table without spelling a word. Then you delicately take your handbag, look in the mirror, you sensually “paint” your lips with that red glittered lipstick. You strive to boldly claim “Thank you!” like a real lady and gently close the door. Be a real heroine! A real Jeanne d’Arc! Don’t let him notice a tear in your eyes! Pass by a few bus stations and then start crying. Cry in all tonalities and volumes available. Let your coat generously tremble on you! Don’t be ashamed of those 200 pairs of eyes that goggle at you! Cry, baby! Cry me a river! Otherwise you may face a “delectable” infarct!
Another option is to call all your friends. Just to lament. Cry. Laugh. You dispose of an hour to make your fellows be well up in your emotional catastrophe and then let them entertain you. Let the celebration start! You will fall asleep with a happy mood and the idea of Armageddon will not torture you… until morning at least…

Disappear from his life! Forever- ever!

No more emails, calls, letters imbued with ocular secretions, no more research, investigation and you'd better leave the opera glasses of your grandmother in that cupboard. Be absent, passive...He will be really intrigued. The fact that you are not available anymore for him shows that you are not interested in wasting your time on someone who doesn’t want to talk to you. That's what I call dignity. And the dignity is respected.

Make yourself comfortable and look after your own life!

Leave the pages of your relationship at Past Perfect! Don't conjugate them at conditional mood. “If I were wiser... he would be…”, “If he were less... I would...” Listen! - No, nope, no more!

Live your present and think, build future plans. There are so many things you hadn’t done just because he wasn’t willing, he didn’t like or you were afraid to not offend him with your new style, intimate haircut, friends or even voice.

But in the most awful moments... during those dull moments of internal and infernal war... (but they will be) think that you don’t deserve a man who makes you feel like that… unhappy, in love, with a swollen face and a red nose full of salted tears… I don’t think you have to try this taste! No more!

An Ordinary Day of a Man...

To Make the Portrait of a Bird...

First paint a cage
with an open door.
Then paint
something pretty,
something simple,
something beautiful,
something useful
for the bird.
Now place the canvas against a tree
in a garden,
in a wood
or in a forest.
Hide behind the tree
without a word, without a move.
Sometimes the bird comes quickly
but it could also take long years
before she makes up her mind.
One must not get discouraged.
One must await.
If need be await years
the speed or the slowness of the arrival of bird
being utterly unrelated
to the success of the painting.
When the bird comes,
if she comes
observe the most profound silence,
wait for the bird to enter the cage
and when it is in
with the brush gently close the door
then
erase every single bar, one by one
being careful not to touch any of the bird's feathers.
Then make the portrait of the tree
choosing the most beautiful of its branches
for the bird.
Paint also the green foliage and the crispness of the wind,
the dust of the sun
and the noise of the grass animals in the summer heat
and then wait until the bird decides to sing.
If the bird does not sing
it is a bad sign.
Asign that the painting is bad.
But if it sings, it is a good sign.
A sign that you can sign.
Then you tear off very gently
one of the feathers of the bird
and you write your name in one of the corners of the painting.

Jaques Prevert

PS. I have no idea about your feelings at this moment - while reading these rows...
When it comes to me... These verses put a spell on me... So warm, sensible, colorful, peaceful... That's my mood today!

"Success is a journey, not a destination."

Arthur Robert Ashe, Jr.