She is simply different
The way she talks
The way she moves
The way she breaths
Her flow & Air
Her vibes & Hair
She simply shows up when you would want to hide…. when the world just don’t seem to understand you….
She sees you when you’d like to pass unseen
She finds beauty in your darkest spaces and brings light to your darkness
She loves all you hoped you wouldn’t have
Her affection melts all your layered spots of the soul
When you know she is here to stay
To love you when you cant seem to love yourself
When she is simply the one…..
Havent written in some time
maybe resisting to expose misleading thoughts to this perfect untamable water reflecting the moon.
Ego has been the reflection insisting to be heard
but the battle was won …. no space to be torn..
Nowhere to land, walking on sand knowing that lessons are one single point of light in the infinity width of the sky on a clear perfect summery night …
More layers or learning to walk better?
Strength or Surrender ness?
Adaptation or Resignation?
The more I live the less I understand
Wisdom is not clarity but the confusion of seeing too much and the capacity of accepting what is…
Getting older is knowing that life is unpredictable as the souls we get to encounter , as the unstable weather on a tropical
night where a storm welcomes the stars and the moon becomes a spark of bliss.
Maturity is awareness not aging;
getting older is an easy predictable process but not a synonym of inner growth.
How is it called when our space is in between when we are nor yellow nor green
when sadness is the space of comfort as no direction is bringing us purpose ?
how to choose a destination to feel alive and with determination?…..
So here I am writing again thinking aloud about life and its innermost turns of the soul as if they were able to give me clarity
to undiscovered disclosures of this unpredictable pathway back home.
From every side pushed,
From every edge pressed
From every angle tested;
Guilt being used to shake things up
Fear to bring me back to the preconceived mold;
Flexible as an elastic band stretching,
Being brought to the ground abruptly,
Tension in the air
Peace in her soul
Segmented, judged, classified, routed with nonstop spoken words and infinite silences.
The little hole in the sky keeps her alive
The little light in her heart keeps her breathing
A fight for freedom of choice and courage to remain flying….
The road is bumpy. Fog and uncertainty ruling the way , but this walk cant be interrupted as The only way to live is to walk her walk
The mystery we are, I find so difficult to define; when we say who we are, we end up being who we are not; never becomes some-times and sometimes may become an all-ways.
This walk is not eternal
things change, life moves, the same waves that come, are the ones that are instantly seduced back into the water….
……nothing stays the same.
Wrinkles of wisdom stamp our faces of unforgettable memories and non-erasable stories,
I find a great resemblance between life and mosaics:
They are aligned on a tidy floor
sometimes cracked,sometimes dirty, sometimes beautiful and perfect.
We make ourselves play by skipping one or more, jumping and testing ourselves to see how far we can go, or skipping one color to stand on the next,
as if we were winning a game of …. power?
Other times, our feet not even fitting inside and playing’s not even an option….
small pieces are needed to create the big picture, a small piece of cracked glass wont make any sense without the other pieces….
……the adrenaline keeps us moving …..
failure is simply a word
part of a world that is not sold,
we are just doing what we are told.
When I glue my words creating this mosaic, I continue to journal a list of dreamt illusions that come and go as this summer breeze,
Where am I going with this words that keep flowing and continuously rolling down my mind’s slide ?
Conclusions are far to reach, no matter how much I preach
The shore is not seen close by, where life’s answers may reside.
So avoiding to collide i surrender my internal debate to whatever my path will deliver.
Sometimes flowing sometimes stacked sometimes cheery sometimes disconsolate.
I wonder if it would be easier to navigate with a map journeying through the known instead of cruising the rapid waters of this life’s maze piloting harbor-less….
but would it entertain this unforeseeable soul?…..
So depressed not being able to understand this void…
Something’s missing and hasn’t been there for so long….
‘I’m not understanding the way to decode the language of emptiness that fills up my inside and bit by bit he’s been developing the ability to dye the light into a deep darkness state of confusion and unsolicited surrender-ness’ he reflected
‘who are you?’
‘what do you want from
‘what are you trying to tell me?’
if only these messages were more authentic, logic and less demagogic ….as ….there’s no reason to reject the wonders of aliveness
Perfect is the image perceived by the spectators , fake is the one released by the naked truth, He thought
‘who do you want to see?’
‘the real me or the ‘what I could be’ me?’ he whispered
This path is the return one, there’s not one to come and one to go.
Longer shorter days giving me the chance to nourish the heart
Mundane experiences sealed as rubber stamps on my skin, intending to be part of the past, with unattained outcomes….
How to enjoy the deepness of this physicality when this indescribable ghosts don’t want to let go….
Is it my Ego mind boycotting my triumphs?…
or simply this incapacity to understand the void language
Trying to fully convince myself that the Universe is speaking to me through gnomic messages?
Maybe this is a new way of communicating I need to master to feed this thirsty whole of emptiness .
…..to be continued
When finding himself, he was losing himself
The more he saw the more he got drowned.
Reality didn’t bring the well seeked clarity that day.
Confusion didn’t bring the typical daily delusion but neither clarity nor ease that day.
Walking and walking he was trying to find a solution.
Slowly and slowly he thought, as if waiting for answers to come unexpectedly from the sun was certainly happening.
His emptiness felt so dark
no matter how bright his sparks were, as unseen by his third eye they lived in mystery.
He wanted to Dive as if the water would clean his shade
He wanted to fly, as if the air up there would erase his pain.
He wanted to run, as if speed would burn the void inside.
……but all he did was stay, in a stillness mode , where the non thinking mind was the one to answer this time.
Does it exist?
Does True Love exist?
So many poems and lyrics
so many phrases and quotes
so many thunders and sunshines above of it all.
Below the surface there’s reality there’s pain and there’s doubt, in a world of ever-growing bouts….
Where is this going, this pain is overflowing….
This empty space goes deep to touch base, trying to win some random race nonexistent to the eyes but clear as a vase.
Could it be platonic?
Could it be the mystical in love with love… that as a cloud it can hide whats real and loud under the eyes of the cowed that screams so aloud to be heard….?
Visiting and staying… or changing its route as simple as the seasons that without any reasons they move to horizons untouched as raw diamonds.
A knot in the throat from unspoken thoughts, painful as shots is the distortion of Love
where is the feeling?
which is its location?
where do you carry it when you pretend you dont have it….
She looks for connection instead of words and deceptions
She looks for a soulmate as if they truly exist in a world of beliefs, of seasons and cliffs, of reasons and fees.
She wants to believe
She wants to retrieve
She wants to forgive herself for this feeling as deep as the core of oceans and shores so strong and life changing as winds of renewal that shower the pain with truth and with rain.
compassion and love our sixth sense.
shadows; only a reflection of trees, of shapes, not a dark soul feeling of fading into the night….
… answers arise at the right day/time, if we are not hiding from them.