I believe if there’s any kind of God it wouldn’t be in any of us, not you or me but just this little space in between. If there’s any kind of magic in this world it must be in the attempt of understanding someone sharing something. I know, it’s almost impossible to succeed but who cares really? The answer must be in the attempt.
[Celine in Before Sunrise]
It can be hard to tell those words. Sometimes it might be dangerous too. And the world seems to deteriorate beside us. And we risk to mingle with it and perish. And so we write it down. Like having a point. Like showing proof. Like a confession. And we do not understand how that fragile us. Because Love doesn’t have a point. It doesn’t prove anything. And it surely doesn’t need a confession. Because Love is. And Love will. Be all. It takes. To be.
Sometimes. But only sometimes. Don’t let them fool you with words of self-importance that only feed your ego. Because loneliness can be indeed a blessing but only if you have someone waiting for you at home.
(photograph source: Flickr)
I can already see you. There’s no denying . You seem so clear to me now. I still cannot believe how I did not see you before. Because you are right in front of me. No hiding. Nothing but you. Evident. And clear.
A View To The Ocean @ Flickr.
They keep coming. And confronting me with their perfect stories. When they finish I’ll have nothing to say. Nothing to add. Just that notion you have when your distant memories are about to be forgotten. And you do nothing but watch them go. Hopeless.
Sit down and enjoy the view. Some days are better when quiet. And we just mingle with what is presented in front of our eyes. Because if we pay attention we will be able to see the greatest landscape. Right in front of us. Vibrating with emotion and sparkling with inspiration. Giving all we need to become better versions of ourselves. And to think, but most important acknowledge, that all we need to do is sit and, truly, intensively, appreciate the view.
[Fight To Become Art @ Flickr.]
The dark passenger has arrived. He has been waiting, wandering about, watching us quietly, absorbing all our light. So soon every little thing you are accustomed to see will be gone, out of your reach, just pure darkness. You can try to run against him but you will never overtake him. And yet you will know he is there. Right in front of you. You can feel his breath, his movement. But your wide open eyes won’t believe in him. And you’ll get confused. And panic. And then your vision will distort. And your hands will get in a dark tunnel. And you will believe you are losing your senses but you are not. It is real. You have been too close to the passenger and his darkness mingled with your soul. And you are being devoured. Still battling against that notion of falling into the abyss your body will start soon to shiver. And that’s when you will be snatched. By him. And everything you see today will be his. And you will be nothing but a fading light. In his arms. You stop. Being you. You. Are. Not. But. Him.
This bed feels so lonely without you here. It’s infinite. Emptiness below these sheets. All over this body. I feel trapped when I cannot touch you. It feels like your absence is a punishment. Like I don’t truly deserve you. So when you are gone I miss you. Terribly. Like a drug. I need you in a way that will never make sense. But it is the only way I can seem to fit around this silly life of my own. With you. Sooner or later. With you. Near or far. With you. Always. Because without you I cease to be. The person I am today. Right or wrong. Flawed and perfect. To you I am. Here. Alone.
Note: Image by ~ejan.
If only I could reach that moment of evasion and mingle with it. I don’t really know what to do more. I’ve reached that point where I’m stuck at being me. And everywhere I look there’s me. Always me. Looking back at me. I cannot escape it. He follows me wherever I go. Every step I take he mimics me. Every breath I take he puts a spell deep inside my mouth. And so I choke. Red eyes pulsate with every single push. I try to face him. And him. And him. I don’t know why I try to do it. Maybe if he sees me like that he will understand and just leave me alone. Abandoned. Depraved. But mostly released. But no. When my vision is finally able to focus on him it’s just me. And me. And me. Expectant.
I feel so lonely. It doesn’t make any sense. But this pressure is killing me. Suffocating me with its touch on my chest. And it keeps crushing and crushing until I feel nothing. And I don’t know what to do. Besides feeling like this. A tiny point far away from you. I cannot reach you. And so I give up. And just stay here. Watching life passing by. Fewer looks. Fewer smiles. And all I wanted was to be next to you. Look at you. And feel that ultimate sensation that I get every time you acknowledge me with a simple curve in your lips. And I love it. I need it. To be true. Now.