Sometimes words can overflow the dam of your emotions, leaking uncontrollably until it breaks through your head, your skull, your soul and your skin, making you finally drown in your own little puddle of thoughts. Poetical and tragic death by excessive unsolved, unwanted, unnecessary feelings.
A big world, full of possibilities, exciting paths, incredible stories to be experienced, lived, conquered and yet somedays, you just feel too tired to get out of bed. But no, you won’t give up: your friend said “suck it up” and you force yourself out of bed (because people’s judgements matter so much and yes, you live for people’s approvals), then you struggle, try, cope and you realize: bed was indeed the best option, after all. Giving in and listening to yourself instead of whoever says otherwise would, at least, have saved you from your self imposed tyranny.
Yes, life can be filled with beauty, coziness, tasty and colorful treats, but at certain moments your senses are too numb and nothing motivates you. There is plenty of food but you feel no hunger. It’s rather paradoxal that you feel so empty and at the same time you feel fed up, nauseous. If even when surrounded by cute cakes and delicious custards you still starve to death, it might mean that your hunger was not about food but a deep lack of something else. If that is the case, pretty little foods and words never stood a chance. Quiet down, turn off your cellphone, listen to yourself, to your silence, even if it is not pretty. You don’t need to smile when you don’t feel like it. Respect yourself first.
I am trying to keep a quiet heart while these days pass by. Excitement blands with deep confusion, and I go from desperation and anxiety, to solitude and ease.
One side of me is eager for whatever movement I can get out of each moment, while the other side is tenderly searching for the energy of each thought, trying to understand the delicate temperature of each feeling, every emotion.
I rather kill the beast that torments my dreams and crowd up my every attempt for peace.
But in order to do that I must keep calm and centered, which is the very opposite of what my soul is struggling to overcome. My shaky hands are trying to hold firmly on to that heavy shiny sward, while my fragile feed touch the unsafe and unstable ground beneath me. I focus on the silent noise that I can find deep inside my troubled mind and with eyes closed I try to conquer my enemy, so determined to drain my strength, and dry out my hopes, to crush down my spirit.
The soil is overheated and infertile, I know well this battle will not be an easy one.
I also know that fate is not an option or a for granted act of destiny.
I must continue believing and persevering, and also holding on to my pathway.
One day, all this evil will be a dusty and blurry memory, kept locked or dead enough to never bother me again. But until then, I will be counting on gigantic angelical wings to hold me in and keep me alive. I will count on innocence and dreams to keep my head above water and forbid me of drowning into my own tears. One day, hopefully, the devils inside and out will surrender to brighter days and allow my strength to rule my destiny. That would be nice. That shall be.