paulo coelho's closing cycles

*someone has to read this,yes! YOU*

One always has to know when a stage comes to an end.

If we insist on staying longer than the necessary time, we lose the happiness and the meaning of the other stages we have to go through.

Closing cycles, shutting doors, ending chapters - whatever name we give it, what matters is to leave in the past the moments of life that have finished.

Did you lose your job? Has a loving relationship come to an end? Did you leave your parents’ house? Gone to leave abroad? Has a long-lasting friendship ended all of a sudden? You can spend a long time wondering why this has happened. You can tell yourself you won’t take another step until you find out why certain things that were so important and so solid in your life have turned into dust, just like that.

But such an attitude will be awfully stressing for everyone involved: your parents, your husband or wife, your friends, your children, your sister, everyone will be finishing chapters, turning over new leaves, getting on with life, and they will all feel bad seeing you at a stand- still. None of us can be in the present and the past at the same time, not even when we try to understand the things that happen to us.

What has passed will not return: we cannot forever be children, late adolescents, sons that feel guilt or rancor towards our parents, lovers who day and night relive an affair with someone who has gone away and has not the least intention of coming back. Things pass, and the best we can do is to let them really go away.

That is why it is so important (however painful in maybe!) to destroy souvenirs, move, give lots of things away to orphanages, sell or donate the books you have at home. Everything in this visible world is a manifestation of the invisible world, of what is going on in our hearts- and getting rid of certain memories also means making some room for other memories to take their place.

Let things go. Release them. Detached your self from them. Nobody plays this life with marked cards, so sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. Do not expect anything in return, do not expect your efforts to be appreciated, your genius to be discovered, you love to be understood. Stop turning on your emotional television to watch the same program over and over again, the one that shows how much you suffered from a certain loss; that is only poisoning you, nothing else.

Nothing is more dangerous that not accepting love relationships that are broken off, work that is promised but there is no starting date, decisions that are always put off waiting for the “ ideal moment.”

Before a new chapter is begun, the old one has to be finished: tell yourself that what has passed will never come back. Remember that there was a time when you could live without that thing or that person - nothing is irreplaceable, a habit is not a need. This may sound obvious, it may even be difficult, but it is very important.

Closing cycles. Not because of pride, incapacity or arrogance, but simply because that no longer fits you life. Shut the door, change the record, clean the house, shake off the dust. Stop being who you were and change into who you are.



From my favorite author sent to me by my sister via email.

pissed. tsk.

I seldom get infuriated. I may not be blessed with the patience of a preschool teacher but I believe that I'm a fairly tolerant and reasonable person. But there are really circumstances that push my buttons. Not the good buttons, mind you. Thus, I sometimes end up saying things, hurtful things, to those who have dared triggered it. Don't get me wrong, it takes a lot to get me really angry.oftentimes, i just don't mind!But when I get mad, don't expect me to hold back and stay cordial. The most you can get from me is subtle sarcasm unless you're obviously, unbelievably thick and do a repeat.

I am not sorry for what I did. My reactions were really well-grounded. It is hard to be kind to people whom you know harbors bad blood to you for the most absurd reasons.

Too bad, they won't get to see that I can be sweeter than honey.


and to all the nurses assigned at ER, Mercy Hospital. Die, bitches!

almost lovers. =)

Your smile greeted me as I stepped out of the house. It was warm, radiant and contagious. You had me grinning as I made my way towards you. Your eyes never left mine as I closed in. You reached for my hand as we walked along the street. We laughed and talked and laughed some more; all the while stealing glimpses from one another like we were so into each other. It really felt that way. Other people smiled approvingly as they saw us together. It's not everyday you see these things, right? I think you noticed them staring as well because you pressed your hand tighter on mine and flashed me a smile. Cute.

There was something different in you that I can't put a finger on. But I'm not complaining. Not when even for that brief moment, you've made me feel so... special. It's nothing that I've ever felt before. Cliche, I know but it's true.

And then it had to rain.

"uli na ta tsik"

a bud frozen in the snow for a long, Perhaps its spring has come.

She slipped downstairs, tiptoeing on all fourteen marble tiles, until that varnished wooden door is within reach. She held its brass knob and pulled it, stepped out, bare foot, hair all messed up; she walked slowly along the roughly-cemented hall, wary of the sound that her heels make as it falls repeatedly against the grit. Eight, nine, ten strides it took to reach the door way. But before she walked in, she paused. She was hesitant.

The mirror was the first thing she saw upon stepping inside. It hung before her, the mirror that was big enough to cover the entire length of the wall, frame less, its age visible on some parts, stained and damaged, perhaps forgotten to be cared for.

She saw himself approaching it with dread – a ghostly shroud barely visible against the pitch black that envelops everything; everything but her eyes which seem to catch a faint stream of light from somewhere; everything but her eyes which seem to call forth a faint echo:

Seems so long ago that I used to believe, and now I’m so lost, just so lost inside my head; and I can't get out of it.

It was a sudden dawning; for memories tend to get buried, and the mind, too crowded and dusty from the accumulated rubble, piled up, as days flow into years. Yes, minds rot and decay much like souls and hearts. Hearts forget. Hearts, indeed, get distracted.

And she snapped out of her stance, reached out to the one who stood before her, and then made her way back; out into the cemented hall where her bare feet crunched the earth, and inside the wooden door with the brass knob, and up the staircase, into her bed.

In the course, she realized that she needed not a glimpse of what might be, for it has always been about remembering what once were. She saw what needs to be done.

It will take a while to collect all the fragments of the woman (?) she once knew; but tomorrow she shall start getting her back.