London

And it took me ages to get home,

In a city I would’ve never thought I’d call home.

This is where magic happens,

Where I’m equally invisible and very observable,

Where you could walk without getting anywhere,

Where you could go without getting somewhere,

But where places are home everywhere.

You can walk on the Southbank,

Imagining how it feels to swim down the river,

Or you could go south the Thames, where all the fancy people live.

You can walk through Camden

And taste the wild side,

Or go to the museums and galleries,

And find that life is on the palm of your hand,

Listening to you, feeding you, tasting you…

I know I’m home now; I’ve stopped missing myself.

The Only Thing

Who are you after all the people are gone?

After you turn off the lights that fill up your life,

And turn off the music,

And get in your own bed?

Do you like yourself? And who you’ve become?

Do you miss the acceptance of others,

And the hugs from the mothers

You’ve had?

The friends that keep running towards you

And giving you purpose?

Who are you, when all you have now is time?

And who you were supposed to be when all the lights were gone?

Do you run from yourself

Or do you run from others?

Do you think you’re a work in progress

Or do you think you’re done baking?

Do you have certainties about you

Or is the only thing you a very clear unknown?

Are you happy and kind? Or are you at least trying?

There is still time for you to learn all of this,

To learn yourself,

To learn the others,

To learn love and despair,

Hope and breathing in the air.

The only thing you’ll always have

Until the day you die

Is time.

Personal Crisis

Maybe it’s not fair to judge the others, as I have found out that I myself I’m a questionable human being at best. I’ve always displayed a bit of preachiness within me, but now more than ever I seem to get annoyed at everything and everyone. I am annoyed at my friends who share serious information on the coronavirus, and annoyed at my friends who don’t take it seriously. I feel like I am two people in one and choosing only what’s convenient for me to display somewhat of a semblance of perceived normality.

I don’t know why I do all these things. I am okay with my groups of friends, and I am okay being by myself, so in no way I’m trying to drive them away. It’s just that I’m struggling to find my place within me. I’m also trying to nurture those relationships I have, as I do think they’re important and I want them in my life.

I’m maybe a bit unbalanced, but somehow, I don’t feel like it? I mean, it does feel sometimes that I’m on the outside looking in, and I’m viewing myself through someone else’s eyes. Is this the new reality? Am I going crazy?

PS: Adding this to support my internal healing, and maybe yours too.

PPS: yes, it’s the coronavirus issue, it’s affecting me and my relationships more than I thought.

Displaced

It’s difficult not to feel displaced in an apocalypse. Somehow, for some of us, things are the same, but for the rest of us, things have shifted immensely. The worst thing is that I don’t know which group I should adhere to, and somehow this brings a grave calm to my falling in love with me.

It’s not a restart, not a continuity. For me it feels like a pause from all the urgency of life. I’ve put the world on hold, and I’m rummaging through old memory boxes, and reliving things I didn’t have time to enjoy or grief at that moment, and I’m taking my time to think of them, feel them, heal them.

At last, the world isn’t loud anymore. At last, things are not life or death anymore. At last, I’m here.

faith

faith requires so little of you,
and gives so much of it instead,
it’s just a door that remains open always,
and you can choose to follow that,
or you can choose to stay.
but fear not, my friend, you’ll always be welcome.

No Words

No words in you,

But something screams in me,

And there’s darkness,

There sadness,

There’s you,

But so little of me.

It’s like you feel the voids,

But then I am the void,

And there’s nothing to fill me up with.

No movement in me,

While you drift away,

How can I fucking make you stay?

PS: You left me all empty, how does that make you feel?

This world is too real,

Too cruel,

Too unsual.

Contrasts

And there are thoughts I nurture and protect,
Deep down inside, where everything is wrecked,
The lights I hold on, the fears I try to let go,
The more I live, the less I know.
But still I try my best at guarding
Everything you keep discarding,
And then I care for every little thing in me,
But it’s like locking me up and throwing out the key.
I don’t blame you, yet I don’t blame me.
We’re limited in different ways, you see.
When you go high and I go low,
No one is friend, no one is foe.