Wanderlust.

"You are living a choice that is no one but yours", you once told me, as the tears, frightened, salted my thoughts once more. 

As true and plain as it may sound when I hear your harsh words, choices are no simple deeds. 

It is me choosing this path, these dreams, this raving wanderlust, but it is also me giving up everything I already know, my lifeline and my core... and these are no parallel roads.
It is one and the same path where I must try and endure towards some distant place, where I'll belong to a fantasy that I only know to be true in my mind. 

It would be easy to shine in this territory, to stay and be bright... it would be comfortable not to burst the balloon, not to exhale that last breath of air that will destroy it in this dimension...  but what am I to do but to go on higher ground, far from who I let under my skin, with no one else around, no one to understand and all the time to look through my darkest corners... What am I to do but to go where nothing is compromised and everything is yet to come, where nothing is crossed and there is not one thing that is lost? 

How could I deny myself from exploring what is still not mine to be known and how could I not give myself to a pain that I know to be only temporary?
Could I ask you about the insanity of my choices another day in the future?... And from my rearview mirror I'll ask you about your accommodated cowardice someday... Some other day, my love.

You might call me crazy and deny me the right to this almost paralysing fear.... this brutal fight.
You might want to make me carry my choice as I would bear a cross in my back... And I'll bear it, my dear, as I bear this open heart that won't ever stop beating for the dreams I can just dream... still!

It is my choice.

My cross.

My tears.

My joy.

Wanderlust.

"Do you believe
In what you see
Motionless wheel
Nothing is real
Wasting my time
In the waiting line."

                   Zero 7

From the bird's-eye view.

As I start packing my soul for another change of scenery, the feelings start to get overwhelmingly familiar... 

My life is suddenly on a bird's-eye view again and I stand on the outside of my own self, observing the people that make my present days, go on and move on without me. 

Standing on a corner I shut everything down and let myself go on auto-pilot... 

The reinvention of everything seems ridiculous at these moments when the warmth of my habits, my people, my daily routines, seem fundamental. However, I know this comfort brings no true peace as it leaves no chance for improvement or for the elevation of the spirit.

On this journey towards a version of me that seems almost unattainable , I feed on the conquest of these new levels of discomfort the cross-over brings. 

I dread the knowing pain of letting go and yet it keeps me moving... it keeps me changing, adapting, progressing... Striving forevermore for growth, knowledge and awareness. 

Sounds almost masochistic... And it does feel achingly cruel!

For now, as I flirt, restless, with the edge of a new abyss, life seems suspended in this eerie aura of thick air and crushing emotions... everything feels like a slow-motioned goodbye and the tears start to blur my vision too often...

...And while deliberately overcoming this lingering feelings of fear, I overcome myself once more... in a cycle that will keep me on an everlasting quest... 

Never content, always adapting.
Never resigned, always tolerant.
Never complacent, always myself.

"So i will follow the feeling
And sing fever to the form
Oh my fever to the form

Cos' the very thing you're afraid, afraid of
It keeps you clean but unclear
Clean but unclear

Is the dirt that you're made, you're made of
And thats nothing to fear
No, its nothing my dear."
                                               Nick Mulvey

Mis-shapes, mistakes, misfits...

The heart is no stranger to mistake. It is constantly in touch with the good and the bad of our spirit... the lighter colors and the darkest shades, calibrating the inconsistencies and desperatly trying to save our souls. 

It is able to formulate and illustrate beauty or ugliness through the shadows of the emotions we carry inside, often trying to compensate for the frailties we won't admit. 

It searches for balance changing directions time after time and becoming incredibly invested in the pursuit of true happiness, trying to strive and search forevermore.

In this heart's quest for eternal bliss, shielding our soul from one's personal demons and masking a neediness we might not want to accept, is no dishonesty... There's nothing but a sense of instinctive protection that can trick the believer we hide within to hold on to feelings that are not complete. 

As we fear rejection and our own weakness, we easily create noisy illusions of love... mistakes we plunge into, because life will always seem lonely enough without little empty spaces in our bed.

When realizing and facing these fantasies of a love that never really was, some of the people we get close to, even those we might have deemed greatly important to us, become strangers.

The thought alone is depressing as you might one day look back to only find the shadows of some of the people who made you, you... people who were great comfort even if just momentarily, lovers you unknowingly loved so incompletely.
However, in this clarifying moment, there's a distinct certainty that the heart you thought was broken is still beating as a whole inside your chest. There's no part of you left behind. There's no part of you to be rescued... it's all still intact, piece by piece, ready for another mistake.
Ready for the final mistake.



"See, honey, i am not some broken thing

I do not lay here in the dark waiting for thee

No my heart is gold. my feet are light

And i am racing out on the desert plains all night."

If life was the movie playing in my head.

Let's go to Paris you and I. Catch a plane into the night and disappear together in the city of lights. Let's walk along the Seine, sip french wine and share a baguette while listening to our sweet autumn songs of desire. We will be corny and we will be cliché, but most of all, we will be sickeningly in love.

Love in times of war.

"You ruin it all with your anxiety", you once told me. I cried as the guilt came rushing through my veins, while the sorrow of your absence, of your avoidance, slowly darkened my soul.

You forget, my dear, it was you that cowardly hid behind your fears, quietly choosing to deliberately hurt me, to wilfully disown myself of your feelings. Your choice asphyxiates my hope and I have to kill the love that was making everything brighter.

In such a gloomy world, full of cynicism and hatred, loving became the sin, the mistake, the odd choice and yet, I can't stop loving the hopeful dreams that night brings and that no harsh daylight can make me forget.

I'll always regret the words I never told you... I'll regret being stopped by this overwhelming shame of feeling the way I do.

There's no right time to know what love is, there's no choice to be made rationally. Love is when it wants to be, when the soul touches this infinite, indescribable force that connects all that exists. 

I felt ashamed. And anxious. And now, so sad. 

I know it was not pertinent, not asked for, but nevertheless love exists within me, for you. It came to me as this brand new feeling, as different as it can be from any other love that ever was for me, but as powerful as I remember it from distant times.

I felt the need to apologize. Apologize to you, to myself, to the world. I had committed the ultimate crime and dared to let myself love the perfectly imperfect soul that you are. 
I am so very sorry, my dearest, for I get the sense I must apologize for love in these times when war seems to prevail.

I had to deceive my own self, trying to be convinced that you were no path, tricking you to believe my heart was not yours afteral. 

I had to mislead my feelings to stop me from whispering in your ear, "let me stay by your side", "let me in and I'll be yours forever". I would. How cliché. How cinematic.

I know you never wanted to hear it, I know how despicable this is these days, I know I had no right... and so I just hushed my heart and let shame swallow me in.

How sad.

I am sorry.

I am sorry I loved you so easily, with no reason or judgment.
I am sorry I dreamed so stupidly, with no restraint or logic.
I am sorry you became, so quickly, the home I keep trying to find. 

I am sorry, above all, I wasn't brave enough to ever tell you... you were all! 

I am sorry this will go to waste now.

Love should be no shame and yet, I have to hide.

"If you must wait

Wait for them here in my arms as I shake

If you must weep

Do it right here in my bed as I sleep

If you must mourn, my love

Mourn with the moon and the stars up above

If you must mourn

Don't do it alone.

You are all."

                                               Keaton Henson

On time and heartaches.

Oh let me tell you about this strange continuum in which life occurs in an apparently succession from past to future... let me tell you about this irreversible relativity that is time. 

The more you live, the less you have it, but the more you long for it. It seems to go faster as years go by and yet, at moments, when you most need it to speed up, it slows down like the unhurried pace of a lazy snail. The minutes take days to end and everything stops and thickens as you hurt. 

Time, they say it is of the essence, and I say, at times, it is of salvation. The salvation of a soul when it's breaking, of a heart when it's aching, of my heavy bones carrying a fainting body. 

Only time can heal, can lift the weakened spirit and save from sorrow. Only time. 

A waiting game sometimes. The patience of let it all fly by... the anger of the damage, the mourning, the sadness, the memories that won't ever be. 

Only time, in its infinite mercy, can lighten the burden of what will be the eternal longing of a lost love, a lost past, a lost present and a never existing future...
Only time accumulating can bury the acute pain of loss and make it less palpable, less strangling, not so overpowering. 

The scars will stay, the love, if real, won't go and yet it will all be bearable as time goes by. It will all be bearable. 

Stand by. Don't hurry the precious lifeline. Take a deep breath and know that it's a matter of time.

It is a matter of time, I say.

Heartaches don't last forever.

Oh let me tell you about these saving minutes, so many of them, that take forever to run by.



The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.

It's strange what desire will make foolish people do.
I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you.
And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you.
No, I don't want to fall in love.

                                                                      Chris Isaak

If life was the movie playing in my head.

Let's go home tonight, drink too much gin and star in movies of our own. We'll dance and laugh and fool around. The sun will be a witness when my tired body finally finds some rest, laying in bed with your arms holding me tight. I'll feel you breathing deep against my neck and dream of a future that I can only wish would be ours.