You be you. go and be satisfied with mediocrity. go and trust someone who will sell you in the blink of an eye. go and stab in the back people that actually have yours. go and live in a lie. You go and be you. I'll be me.
I'll keep the ones who I don't doubt. I'll say everything I mean and have no shame for my words. I'll slap you with the truth and have no regrets. I'll stop trying to prove something that can be seen if you just look.
I'll live in a world that's imperfect but it's real. I'll choose that world over yours anytime anyday
Loosing every battle
It was a long time ago when tied hands and white shirts defined madness. It is the contemporary circumstances in which we live today that messed up the perception of madness and its form. I can shake my body a hundred times in this minute and look at a dot in the wall and everything could still be totally fine with me. Fine? What it feels like to be fine? What does it look like? Have you seen it? Have you heard about it from someone? Or have you felt it? Or you are not really sure? Do you know what being not fine is like? Is it scary? Does it feel good? Is it exciting? Can you get rid of it? How do you become it? Or are you born with it? Who decides which one of us is going to be fine and which one of us won’t? Is it luck? Is it punishment? Is it a gift? Can you describe it? I might have heard of it. I might have not. I need you to explain it briefly as if I might remember. I might not. But I might be fine. I might be not. I might be what you or him or her or them like to call mad. Or madness it is. Is it? It is? What? Are you confused by all of the question marks? What makes you think I’m not? You thought I had it together didn’t you? So did I. So did everyone. They still do. I still do. Or do I?
Time won’t wait
Time won't wait, I thought. For you. For me. For us. And it didn't wait. I just...never would've thought in my wildest dreams that it wouldn't wait for me. I always thought that it was going to be you for whom it wouldn't be waiting.But never me.
It’s when the city sleeps...
...that we find the truth. About the world. And about ourselves. It's a time when every issue, problem or pain you might be facing seems so small and so big at the same time. It's when we meet our real version. The one that sleeps while the city is awake and awakens when the city is asleep. It's when we are closest to who we really are. When we are not defined by the socially built standards but only by our own. When we come face to face with ourselves no matter how impossible that sounds. We know exactly who we are. Our image is not blurred by the colors of the woke world. It's only when the city sleeps that I am awake.
What do you fear?
I have a fear of heights. I fear feeling empty and alone. I fear that I will lose everyone imporant to me. I'm afraid of snakes. I am terrified of small spaces. I dread never knowing what true love feels like. I feel horrified whenever insects are around me. I fear the thought of people perceiving me as a bad person. I can go on for days counting down all the fears I have. But if I had to choose biggest of them all it would be the fear of people who aren't afraid of anything. What do you fear?
Where do you go when you can’t fix you?
"I am not satisfied with a C on monetary policy". That's okay, I will just study more next time and fix it. "I don't like this color on my hair". That's fine, I'll dye it my natural color next time. "I had a huge fight with my best friend. We are not on speaking terms right now". It's not a big deal, I'll just reach out to her first and clear things out. "I'm having a strong headache today". I'll just take a pill and hopefully it will go away. But what do you do when there is no hope left? What do you do when there's something in your life that cannot be fixed? It's something that you have no control over. But it exists. And you're left with being...stuck. Stuck in a place you don't want to be in but it's just that you don't really have a choice. There's no pill, word or will that could change that. All you have is your own hauntingly painful thoughts. And yes, it's too late now to hear what your friends have to say. Like it's not enough that you have to bear your own pity and now even worse, you'll see it in their eyes. They won't ever say it. But you see it. You can feel it. And you're just not sure how much longer you can carry that feeling.
Ocean of tears
Theese cheekbones need to feel warmth. I say as I let one tear drip down my face. These eyes need to see better, clearer. I say as I let another one. These lips need to taste saltiness. I say as the third one runs down.This face needs a natural, wet glow. I say as I let more tears fall. Myself I question then, what does this heart need? I ask as I drown in an ocean of tears.
True disaster. Two minutes before midnight. An all dark room without any light or presence in it. It's only me looking at the vertical bar on my phone as my thoughts fade away. What was I going to say, I ask myself. Did I even know what I wanted to say. Did I even have any words left capable of describing that feeling. What feeling? [you'll ask]. That. Feeling. That undescribable fight your eye sockets have while trying to hold back the tears from falling down on your cheekbones. That feeling of recognizing your skin but not being able to move it nor feel the sheet underneath it. That feeling of breathing air only because you can't momentarily or physically suffocate. That feeling of wanting to take the whole diazepam tablet but throwing away that one pill you even had the courage to take out of the tablet. That feeling when you need to scream but have no voice left for it. That vain feeling that fills you with nothing but means everything to you. That unbearing feeling that you must feel to understand these words with which I try to describe it. That is the feeling I don't wish even my biggest enemy to ever feel.
Who can guarantee which one is scarier?
Someone once told me 'Everyone loves differently'. And it made me think why should the way in which someone fears be any different. Then I realized, it's not. You're afraid of the dark. For you a monster is a creature with creepy yellow eyes and huge claws that will scratch your feet as soon as you put them outside the blanket. I, on the other hand, am afraid of falling in love with someone who won't love me as much. Whose love will eventually fade away. For me the charm in your brown eyes is a monster. But who's to say which one is scarier and more dangerous?
The enchantment of human life is
Understanding that humans are so beautifully complex beings and utterly indescribable in only 15 words