Tuesday, August 30, 2011

A ticket to Autumn

Sick of the sunny days of Summer i bought a ticket to Autumn, it's closer to my heart. The rains and falling leaves understood me much better then the hot evenings and morning sunlight. My tears easily became friends with raindrops running down my window late at night.  Walking down the alley i used to look up at the colorful leaves on the trees and didn't feel too lonely anymore. I followed the falling leave until it finally got to the ground after singing its last song.
 And that's when the cold wind invited me to dance the Autumn waltz, being to weak to ask any question i followed him . 
And i didn't care if people would think that i'm crazy, i danced with him under the falling leaves and maybe that's why my heart got a little warmer... The wind took me high above all the trees, i could feel the cold on my skin, but somehow it was warm inside me.
I got tired of Summer, cheated the Sun and had an affair with the cold autumn Wind...

Thursday, August 18, 2011

One More Year Of Love

One year ago this day... August 18, 2010.
A question that changed two lives... My life and Your life...
It's been one year already, me and you, your question, my answer and our decision. 
One year of trust, plans, hope, longing, waiting...
One more year of love...
And yet so many more years are waiting for their turn to come.
Love You
Always and Forever

                                                                                                                             © LiLit Ghazaryan

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

I'm a candle

I'm a candle...
 For many months i was just lying in a small shop, waiting for my turn to go. Then one day a young girl came to the store. She looked at all the candles and eventually looked at the seller pointing at me. That's how i went to my new home, to the girl's house. Her room was small and very sweet. I was standing at her table next to another candle. We were the only candles in the room and soon we became good friends. He was a sweet candle, didn't talk much, he liked to look outside the window and dream. The small room was the only place he had ever been, that's why he was dreaming about places outside, wishing that some day he could go somewhere else. I was telling him stories about our store, about my friends there and about people who used to visit the store. He was interested in all those stories, but every time i could see small tears running down the candle, my stories made him sad.
It was very easy to fall in love with him and eventually i did. He loved me too and that made him smile more often. I was not telling him stories any more, cause i didn't want to make him sad, instead we were dreaming together. We had many wishes, we were planing to visit different stores and houses together, go to different cities and maybe also meet some other candles. Our plans gave us hope that some day we would be able to turn all those wishes into reality. We were sure that we were  the happiest candles in the house, because we were the only ones, and deep down inside we hoped that we are the happiest candles in the world too. We were happy, until one morning, when he was too week to burn any longer...

I'm a candle, a lonely candle fighting against the cold wind of memories..

                                                                                                                            © LiLit Ghazaryan

Saturday, August 6, 2011


21st Century: internet, Skype, social networks, phones and text messages... and all these new ways of communications made us forget about something very important that our parents or grandparents had - handwritten letters. Nowadays we can simply call a person and talk to them no matter how far they are, we can send a text message and receive a quick answer even from the other side of the globe, we can even see and talk to people who are on a different continent. There was  a time when the only way of getting in touch with people who were far were letters. people were sending letters and receiving a letter back months later. maybe it's weird but even now there are still people who are fond of handwritten letters. And i'm one of them. I love to receive letters, but i enjoy sending them even more. There's something special in it, something romantic. When writing a letter you put a part of yourself in it, you give your warmth to the sheet of paper. Instead of typing the letters which look exactly the same way, no matter who types them, writing a letter you draw each word with your own style. You create a unique sentences were every letter looks original, different then any letter that has been ever written. You send your soft touch to someone far away.
Sending a letter you send a small piece of your heart with it...

                                                                                                                             © LiLit Ghazaryan

Friday, August 5, 2011

You smile because ...

You know that feeling when you keep smiling without even realizing that you are doing it? Isn't it just amazing? You wake up with your smile already on your face, you're eyes are shining, you look around and see only the beauty of everything, smile at strange people's faces and wish them a good day. Some think you're crazy, some don't notice, the others don't even pay attention, but those who know what is going on inside you just secretly smile because maybe they feel the same or they wish they could be in the same situation. 
Let them think and continue your way, cause you're on the right track, you've taken the best path of life. 
You smile because You Love.. 

                                                                                                                             © LiLit Ghazaryan

Opposites attract

Opposites attract...
 You're white, he's black,
 you're dark, he's bright, 
You go forward he comes back
you go left, he goes right
Opposites Attract....

But then one day you want it to be simple, 
you want it to be alike,
 and that's when you two get apart... 

                                                                                                                             © LiLit Ghazaryan