After Dawn 30th July, 2013

She whispered,

Dear Diary,

It feels quite exciting.  I am giddy.  I have my own diary and guess what?  It comes with my very own lock.  It means I can write to you anything I wish and no one can see.  This is so exciting.  My own secrets; locked.

Now....how do I start? .....

.......This is not easy as I first thought...

The truth is I feel alone Diary.  You’re my only friend and I can tell you anything, right?  That you will listen to me and not judge me?  So why do I still feel like my voice is in a device?  My head is going to burst, I can feel the tension building up inside.  I close my eyes and I see him.  I allow my ears to receive volume and I hear him.  I look at my body and I can feel him.  Can you take that away from me Diary? No, I didn't think so. 

 

The very first poppy picture I sent to
my whisperer on 16th July 2013

They say writing is good for you, that you can release your feelings....let them pour out...but once they are out they become more alive than being in your head because they are now in view, outspoken.

Signed: Lost

The whisper ended: “I longed to hear you earlier....felt an urge.... strange!”

I whispered back,

Dear diary keeper,

This diary can assure you that it’ll keep your secrets safe.  You’ll remain the one and only key holder and the diary will look forward to hearing the clicks of the key everyday.  Whenever the key comes in close contact with the lock and through the keyhole, I feel it turns inside my heart, guiding the excited blood in and out as my heart calms down to steady pulses.  This is not going to get any easier.  Diary is here to keep your secrets safe, and not to take them away from you.  Diary will add another page as you fill one everyday, so you will never ever run out of an empty page.  Diary also feels the tension, as it can see her, hear her and feel her too, and finally, diary was not able to work out if the diary keeper longed to hear ‘from the diary’ or ‘the diary’ earlier!  The feeling of urge is mutual in any way…

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After Dawn 19th February, 2013 (first ever whisper)

I whispered,

(first ever whisper after agreeing to exchange emails)

Thank you for the email.  I have written about a page or so (about my childhood abuse), and there'll be more to come.  I can send it to you, however, I wanted to make sure that it wouldn't make you feel upset and uncomfortable reading another child abuse story.  It is always hard and painful to be reminded of such terrible experiences, let alone reading another child's too.  Please let me know if it is OK and you'll be comfortable about it.  I have concentrated on the relationships, emotions and causes, and very little on graphics. I know your experience is so different from mine, and it is usually much worst and more traumatising for girls than for boys.  Hope you're well and this won't make you uncomfortable.  If you think you'll be OK with reading about my and my brother's abuse story, I will email it to you as I finish it section by section.

She likes photography,
and this is one of hers and my favourites she sent on 14th May

She whispered back,

Thank you for your reply. I'm as comfortable as I’ll ever be.  Please, go ahead and send it, providing you too is comfortable with it.  It doesn't matter what sex you are it's traumatic for both.

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After Dawn 26th July, 2013

I whispered,

(after she gave her number: I typed in my number then, then deleted it....god! why so difficult to exchange?  f*** it,  07******,   did I really just do that?), and she really did.

OK, I really treasure what you did today. All the pressures are on me now. I am now shaking with my heart out of control.  Thinking....will I ever dare to dial that number, yet know that I will keep it very close to my heart carrying it with me always and all the time.  You knew how much I wanted to ask for it since we began to write to each other every day, after dusk, past midnight and after dawn. You knew how badly I wanted to have your voice resonate in my mind as well as your words dancing around it, and you knew I would never ever dare to ask for that illusive magic number!  Each and every word that you put together and send them to me, live their own life inside me and we always said this is something very special. The moment our voices blend with them, their lives will change forever; they won't be the words again; they will want to come and play out in the open.... and one day, I will dare to dial 0....7....8... my heart pounding and hammering, my body shaking and my tongue frozen, just managing to spell out .... H ..... i ...... t ..... h ...... i ....... s .......... and then wait for your voice to do the magic!

Who lives happier, the man or the fish? 
(one of many pictures she took and chose to send it to me)

She whispered back,

Reading can come across as words simply formed together, quickly, within a matter of seconds.  How you start with one letter and form a sentence and more but the reader does not know how long it takes to write one word, one sentence. They read at their own pace without much thought.  When I typed in my number it was like my hand froze with each number.  Determination ignored occurring thoughts such as: 

"Will he call?"

 or

 "will it change anything?"

 "what happens if the world we have created through words doesn't exist in our voices?"

I give you my number because I know you will keep it with you, even if you never actually call. You don't need to call, you know you have my number and the suspense must be thrilling? You could live your life with my number in your wallet and it would not matter if you never called, it makes it sound mysterious and a little bit… If you did call would I answer it instantly, like a "habit" or let it ring and just watch your name flash on my screen?

*          *          *

After Dawn 25th July, 2013

She Whispered:

(her first reflection after reading few pages of Ava Gardener's book) 

One of the first photos from my whisperer

I think our conversations can be as serious as hers and Peter’s, and thinking about how you created the blog is something special, even if nobody views it. I know I do not tell you this as often as I should, but I think so much of you.  Ava and Peter never met but it did not stop them from being really close to one another, after all, at the end of the day he was just a journalist yet she found something in him that bonded them together. Just like you and me (minus the journalist part...).  I can be as deep as that, I know I can...I could pick up a phone to you and say for example three words and then just pause for eternity and you would never put the phone down; you would just hear me breathe. This does not just go for me, this goes for you too.  I wish to be your Ava, your unrestricted friend.

I whispered Back:

I think you’re right. The reason I talked to you about Ava’s book from the very first moment I read the first page was exactly this.  I knew this would happen.  So much similarities in the nature of conversations, though they are Ava & Peter, and we are us.  I would never put the phone down until being certain that our silent conversation was over, or will it ever be over?  I would listen to the sound of your breath forever, and I know you would do the same.  I would not wish for a better person to be my Ava, and I know I do not tell you this as often as I should, but I think so much of you too.

*          *          *

After Dawn 23rd July, 2013 (the launch day)

She Whispered:

"You paint a vision so freely, your imagination dances; contemporary to the beat of your heart.

Poppies tickle my feet as I spin in circles of my arms held out ready for your embrace.

You sing a song so spontaneously that my ears listen; capturing your words,

holding them softly, so delicately displayed...

Your hands mould a sculpture and I watch with admiration, 

because only you have the gift of turning nothing into beauty"

I whispered Back:

"You paint a vision so freely, your imagination dances to the music of my heart.

As poppies tickle your feet, you spin in circles of your arms and create a tornado that pulls me in, and takes me high coalesced with scents from the poppies.

Then you begin to sing a song that fills my ears, reassuring you wouldn't let me fall.

Holding me up so softly and so delicately, so I could trace the heaven for you...

Your hands in constant move, following the beats booming through my heart, and I watch them with admiration

Because only you have the gift of creating such beauty to leave your admirers in awe!

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