This is last call

On my own. That is me, the white sea and the sound of truth – the mandatory ingredients to arouse solitude into creative action. That was all I used to know before I got more involved with people. It seems the more I try, the more I lose it. I confide in many, as I don’t believe I have anything to hide and yet my black book is full shit that I won’t ever share. There is so much spite, anger and envy that I cannot believe it’s me. I do hope it’s not me; but merely a playground for me to untie some tight knots. Certain types of action relate to instinct and are just inexplicable to me sometimes. Who knows, maybe they’re not meant to be examined. There are many things one won’t ever understand why he did it, neither is he sure whether or not it was his choice after all. Why things happen, are we doing something for them to happen? I don’t really know anymore. I didn’t realize there were distinct connotations between “fate” and “destiny”. Fate depicts a set of events that are inevitable, whereas destiny depicts a probable future, which means there is a choice and eventually things will work themselves out. So of course I’m more partial to destiny, I’ve seen enough signs. Years ago I would have denied them with no excuses. But there is something out there bigger than you and me

 

I feel most alone when I’m with someone that arouses no spark. And this makes me a dick that’s too gutless to say sorry. They are good people, better than I could ever afford. However, they are wrong to think the same way about me. I am not a keeper. I prefer to chase that spark, though knowing it’s only temporary. No, for me it’s actually forever, temporary is just for those who ignite the spark in me. For them I’m most likely just a bus stop. I’m the one who is unable to forget, and yet I wish I could erase some memories that, up to now, just remind me of how much I hate myself for being so over-adventurous and risky, hopeful and full of shit. Shit stinks. In order to shed some light upon my foolishness, I just give in to the moment…

Do you know what it’s like to feel fundamentally lost? Unaware that all this time it was nobody but you who has tied yourself in knots? You who deluded yourself into believing that you can make a difference by risking hurting your ego? Tired now.

Everyone goes away in the end. Those, who won’t come back, will always remain in your head. They left you after the foreplay. The wetness turns cold; you curve your back and bow your head into a fetal position. Do you feel hurt, do you feel cold?

Most importantly, it keeps the journey safe – the hurt, the cold…and you know you’ll do it again.

 

Je pourrais risquer de me blesser très fort. Parce que je ne vais pas arrêter d’atteindre pour ce que je ne peux pas avoir.

 

I realized that I am always looking for is a (temporary) muse. The affair with the muse ends after the completion of a piece. It’s like dedicating a good-bye letter to him, a letter they’ll never read. The better. That way they won’t ever know how special they are to me. The funny part of this is that in the end it’s not me that throws them away. My ongoing problem is that I grow too attached to my muse, no, obsessed, as I come back to squeeze out some more. But before I make things harder than they already are, I always decide to go.

 

A good friend says to me that travel does not heal the soul and that he only found himself lonely in a different landscape. But soul healing is not my intention. You cannot heal anything, ever. You can only overcome with strength and that strength can only be gained through learning. That’s all I’m after, despite being a slow learner. Being too much of a risk taker is not always smart, I know. So I guess destiny did kick my arse by pointing its finger at me. But I am grateful for the reminder.

 

There are so many people I think about and only so little I do for them. Sometimes they confide in me more than I can handle. The main reason being – them developing inappropriate emotions that I can’t handle.

 

I’m not the answer

 

If there is no spark there is no interest. If I could navigate my brain towards chasing the simple and ordinary, I would. But that would be cheating and…easy. Back to being a dick…

 

The adventurous rat may one day trip very badly and not even the ox will help him up.

 

…The search for the ingredients of a perfect chemical reaction, despite knowing that every reaction wears out. But he’d give anything for one single moment of love…

 

Then forever without. That’s when he realizes he really is alone. Alone, by choice. For the sake of the spark.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *