Introducing Blaga Todorova from Scent Of My Heart
Join me please in welcoming Blaga Todorova, to Morning Erection as my very first guest blogger who asked me if she could guest post. This means I didn’t have to pester her until she broke down and agreed to post. Actually each of my guest bloggers was more than happy to guest blog for me when I asked. I hope you enjoy Blaga’s post as much as I did. Remember her guest post here is a sacrifice because it means she’s neglecting her own blog and spent time thinking of this great post for us. As always, it is a great honor for me to be able to have a guest blogger. As a favor to me please show Blaga the courtesy of leaving lots of comments and visit her site too. Thanks.
Blogging, sharing posts, subscriptions to comment feed, beta sites, dashboards… this is all so new to me and even though I have no problem to learn quickly about anything, I had to first ask various silly questions, or to Google certain terminology in order to start “Scent of my heart”! We might live in a century surrounded by very advanced technology and we might all have some computer education, but I am somehow not meant for a computer genius!
It was a big and a pleasant surprise, when on the second day of my blog’s opening (if I can say it that way), someone under the name Tom Baker commented on my post that he had to run to get his wife to read my poem and they both liked it very much! I must say, I was a bit puzzled by the name of the blog “Morning Erection” and before to answer back to Tom, I looked at few of his posts (sorry about that Tom). After reading his “The Most Beautiful Girl in the World”‘s post I decided that I like him, despite the fact he was a total stranger, I liked his soul! And this is how I met Tom and how now I am a guest here! I am really honored and grateful for this! Thank you Tom!
Why do I write poems? My friends say it’s because I have a way with words. My ex-boyfriend told me once it’s because I am the devil, dressed in the skin of a simple girl, but gifted with the language of sweet poison. Well, maybe…, but I see it in a different way! It’s because of the butterflies!!! All these years, apart from being a good enough daughter and good enough friend, everything else was either “almost there” or “way too much”, but never fit enough to have this first place we all dream about, the first place that brings butterflies in your stomach and makes you feel like flying!
At school I had to stick to opinions different than mine, because I’d look rather out of line, not enough patriotic towards the Bulgarian literature and history. In university I had to cut my energy and passion for life, because I’d be way too open-minded and free for the environment of electronic engineers. For the one I was in love with-I was too emotional, for the one that I didn’t have Cupid’s arrow in my heart-I was too cold. Sometimes I’d be too honest, sometimes not enough. One day-way too smart for someone to deal with me and the next morning-not enough clever to keep his/her/their attention. I’ve been almost beautiful, almost ugly, almost loved, almost hated… almost of everything, but never perfect for something!
It’s like winning second place in a beauty pageant, or poetry contest, or any game! You know you have the data to place you in between the best of participants, but you don’t have that little detail to take you to the triumph! But when I write, I feel that I have that first place, I feel the butterflies! I can be sensitive or jealous, happy or frustrated and it’s always the perfect amount of it! I can be kissed and kiss back without to hold half the passion inside of me! I can cry and scream and it won’t look like an overreaction! I can be the queen of someone’s heart, or the poor girl selling matches… it doesn’t matter, it matters that whatever I’m going to be, it will be covered in the perfect amount of beautiful words and feelings!
And here is where I want to quote the speech of an overweight opera-singer guy from one of Grey’s Anatomy’s episodes, after the doctors told him there is a possibility of removing all or part of his lung and therefore he won’t be able to sing anymore. He says:
“I’m big. Too big. I don’t fit in airplane seats. And, as Jeff is always telling me, my feelings don’t always fit the situation. If my food is overcooked in a restaurant, I get enraged. I want to kill the waiter. But I don’t. I politely ask him to take my meal back and bring it to me the way I asked for it. I spend my days making myself smaller. Acceptable. And that’s okay. Because at night, when I go onstage, I get to experience the world the way I feel it. With indescribable rage and unbearable sadness and huge passion. At night, onstage, I get to kill the waiter and dance on his grave. And if I can’t do that, if all I have left is a life of making myself smaller, then I don’t want to live.”
Before start to write I was spending my days getting used to be fit in the life of “almost”. Writing is my stage where I get to kill all unpleasant moments of “not enough” or “way too much”, where I get to feel the way I want to feel!
How about you? Have you found your stage? Have you found this thing that will keep you always in bright and happy place?
Butterflies… I was dreaming about butterflies!
I wanted so bad their bright colors to wake me up,
to show me where life really is!
I wanted the sound of their tiny wings moving,
to sing to me ,to tell me story of love, love… endless love!
I’ve forgotten what is to think about the amount of air you breathe in,
what is to wonder when the storm in your stomach
will calm at least for a second,
what is to wish “Dreamland” to find you and all ahead that you see …
Angel… mirage at first… illusion… coming so near to realize that it’s true!
The thought of him, the idea of having everything, anything,
after his lips mark your existence with the softest touch,
after his hands set fire in you even if outside is wild winter!
I was dreaming of the chaotic intruders and the meaning of their coming!
And now that they are here…
Now that I have them turning my little heart up-side-down …
I welcome them with wide open hug,
saying in between deep breaths, in between nausea and uncontrollable smiles ….
Please don’t ever leave again …