Free hugs (ölelést???)

she has just concluded a very restless night, one which has a strange beginning a strange middle and a strange end...the beginning coz laying awake at night with the wildest sexual fantasies and the strong wish-desire to take anything that comes her way(..ehm...nothing does...not at night in a closed room on the top of her posh-mountain castle thingie...no intruders, no midnight lovers), middle for sudden awakening, end...for unusual dreams about some blone figures of the past....

she got out of bed and went downtown (virtually DOWN for she lived up there...)to meet someone and then to have 2whole hours to dissolve in the city, fill gaps ect ect.

she got hungry, after a while, and with a more-or-less dry cheesy-breadstick in her hands she headed over to D.squeare only to bump into the girl-itn-the-red-shirt-giving-free-hugs. she cuddled up, of course, then spent ten minutes learning about their personal project(two girls, one giving-one filming)...and then...babummmm:

she found herself filling(trying to) the space(gap?)pf the square by a smile holding her 'szabad-ölelés'sign high above her head while tring to give the warmest of her marmth to people coming to have her hugs...

reactions were, of course, all different...but how did SHE enjoy, who did she RADIATE!!!

(and as she crossed the threshold of her 'office' she opened her arms and asked: a hug?-and she wrapped her arms around her collegues eager to be loved)

Adventures in Paris(The crazy Hungarian and the NewYorker)

As always, it all started at tome other time and place somewhere in the canada-NewYork-Budapest tirangle...and it all ended up (or rounded up) in Paris...
where the 'crazy Hun and the NewYorker' had some fabulous nights (to make it very precise 5fab.days and an equal amount of nights)...

in the post to come the author will try to cast light on the brightest/most hilarious/painful/elevating moments of her journey into the heart of French capital (but data about certain places and so on and forth is still awaited for ...let's say on the way from the newyorker to my craziness...)=> post to be continued(if this may be viewed as a beginning:)

the night before Paris

losing sleep curled up next to or far away from the well-know and unknown
sending love hung on the invisible cable that connects two people
following instincts and not social codes
acting out of guilt and not of passion
wanting to unite or rip apart
define the undefined
getting to know a part that may be nasty yet is not
looking at a picture with a vague resentment
may silence speak for you
for your warm feelings
that show that you care even though it must now be hard
as it is hard for you to curl up in bed laying wide awake with your sleep sent off to someone who needs it more
hung on the invisible cable that connects
no matter how you wrong each other

you know that there is love: right IN FRONT OF YOU.

something good.

a black bird flew across her heart
and the wind dry and hot like a shirocco
lay her on the ground forcing her to think
how from that perspective
all seems so large
people mainly consist of legs
and smelly feet threatening to step on her
over
and clean feet staring around her
touching her almost as if to comfort
and hands reaching down to lift her
and make her remember her name
she wanted to forget
and her numb mouth forming letters of sand
as she chuckles up the reminders of the storm
and sitting for long hours
all seems so slow
bodies nearing and drifting off
distances that can never be measured with exactness
she learnt that approximation was the best thing
and she walked out in the sun
as if nearing to the point before the black bird
pretending to know what was approaching:
seen at the distance...drawing closer, unable to resist her call
any more.