Nice porter with a great friend. Even though the circumstances for this meeting aren’t so pleasant, it’s always nice to be able to provide shelter for the one you love. Him and I have helped each other out through a lot of difficult times as well as shared many happy ones, and many more to come.
Dancing was once my whole life. It was everything to me and it still is, except I don’t really know if I’ll ever be able to dance beautifully on stage again. In a fraction of a second it was all gone, in a fraction of a second I injured myself on a spin and now I can barely stand on my feet without feeling pain. Realising I haven’t lost the flexibility or the strenght my feet had made me feel like a dancer again and it feels good.
Going out for a quick bite after another montionless day. I realise now how much I cherish moments out with people I love, even if it’s just for a couple of hours. We had the chance to talk and joke with each other and it was great. I swear I’ll try to stop posting food pics, but those are usually the moments when I get to hang out and be myself so it’s usually when I’m the most happy. Having someone to share these moments with is something I’m thankful for.
Sunday night is pizza night. Great company too.
Today I start the hundred happy days challenge. I think this will help a lot getting through what have been rough times. Pulling an all nighter watching Breaking Bad with my boyfriend. Good night.
Crazy handful of love.
You know you have been spending too much time with someone when doing stuff without them is not fun anymore. I do not know if it is good or bad that you can get addicted to a person like that but I know in that moment it is as if your whole life had been building up to it and that to be with that someone, that is your destiny. I was never one to get attached, no, caring is for the weak of mind. But sometimes life likes to fuck you over and gets you incredibly into something you never cared for until then. Which can be funny if you really think about it, learning by personal experience how much a person can change throughout life, thinking you would never bend or change your opinion about a certain aspect of life and end up doing it, not even realising it until it is too late. A wise woman once said you should keep close to the ones who make life worth living, because then you should be safe. Maybe this is where I am safe then, for it is love that nests in my heart.
Child of the wilderness.
And in seclusion I rejoyce for I am no creature of love but of reason. It is inside my mind and in my own darkness where I feel safe. No company is best welcome than that of my own thoughts as with them I am in such comfort that no other person can provide.
Of impressions and foundations.
Home is not necessarily a place. It can be a memory, a picture, a feeling. Home can be a person. Some would assume it’s the person you’re comfortable to talk about everything with, but the truth is quite the opposite; it’s the person you feel comfortable talking about nothing with. Not having anything to discuss isn’t unpleasant and silence isn’t labored. Words aren’t needed at home; they’re a mere externalisation of what’s already been said through looks and communions and touches.
Alright, directly ranting again.
Haven’t been posting daily because my bipolar disorder has been getting worse and I can’t write, plain and simple. Every day I come to tumblr and open a new text post and try to write something and I just can’t. So maybe I’ll be a little more annoying than usual if I post these days.
The first occasional ranting I warned you about.
So I took my friend out the other night and we had a few beers. We were only supposed to go see a play and head back home, but another friend called me in the middle of that process and we ended up in a pub nearby. The thing is her mother is very religious and insisted on picking her up because she “hadn’t let Angela stay out so late” (for the record, Angela is 20). So she picked us up at the pub amd gave me a ride home since we live close to each other. Today Angela told me her mother is mad at me for god knows what reason. I’m probably banished from her house (that I’ve frequented for the past seven years) and her mother says it’s “too much to bear”. What I’m failing to understand in the whole situation is why exactly would I have to play nice and maidenlike forever when I am so obviously not. It’s making me mad that my relationship with my best friend is probably gonna change because her mother can’t just accept I’m not a church choir girl. It’s hurting, really, because she’s the only person I still have left that will back me up on anything for sure and will be there for me anytime. Or maybe I am bound to solitude, which in fact is fine by me because really I’ll be less disappointed.
Not creating expectations means a near to zero chance of being let down. Means anything is a surprise since you weren’t expecting anything at all. Especially with people. After years of raising hope you realise that’s not the most clever thing to do, because no one can read into your thoughts to precisely achieve or pass your expectations of them. There is no one out there that will not let you down at least once, even if it’s just a bit. If people would just learn that life would be way easier. No having to mantain an image or play it nice, not hiding who you actually are is way better than being preoccupied all the time with whose expectations you’re going to shread or whose hopes you’re hoing to crush. Some may call me selfish alright, but not having to worry about any of that also means people won’t be upset with you, who’s around you won’t be let down and will like you for who you are, not some cheap sold out image of someone who’s supposed to follow conventions because society said so.
The tears that quietly insist on falling uneasily through these eyes are not a product of sorrow but of a great happiness that has overcome this soul like a flower that blossoms with the dawn and brings new life to the prairie where it stands. Tears of joy are a strange thing, crying without being sad gives you a strong sense of vulnerability that we normally avoid, and yet it is so good, so freeing, it’s all out and you didn’t have to say a word. Talking through your eyes, some people call it, and in the end it’s very much like that.
Read not by a habit, but for an addiction. Habits are something you do automatically on a daily basis because you have to and not because you like to. An addiction on the other hand is a craving, it’s a need to have more and to feed on that something above all things. Read because you want to, read because it makes you interested, read because it’s important to you, read because it will make you more clever, read because you want to have the whole world inside your head, read to be up to date with it. Read because you can. Read because it frees you from a close-minded life, puts you up on another baseline. Read a book a week. Read two, three books a week, the more the merrier. Read to extend your lexicon, meet different writing styles, work on your memory, improve your grammar. Read out of love.
The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is to be yourself without fear of having society’s hands over your throat. May be a cliche but it is the truth. Once you are not worried about what others will think or say or do you are free to be who you truly are, no strings attached. No conventions to follow, nobody to please but yourself. That’s the biggest achievement in one’s life, the power to live for oneself and by oneself, to depend on no one and to be self-sufficient. What people say about needing someone else by your side to be happy, that’s not true. You are all you need.
Resquiescat in pacem.
"And by a sleep, to say we end the heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to? ‘Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep, to sleep, perchance to dream; aye, there’s the rub, for in that sleep of death, what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause."
I met Death for the first time on November 3rd, 2008. To look at it in the coffin was devastating. To feel it on a daily basis in my life razed me. I had no strenght or will to keep doing everything I had to do, Death took it all. It took me quite a while - four years, in fact - to understand I had to move on with my life. Today, November 3rd, 2013, it’s been five years since I lost perhaps the most important person to me. I want to leave here written my love and respect for the man who changed my life for good. Be your goodness remembered, your memory preserved and may your soul rest in peace.