So right now, I’m more connected to life and people than to myself. There are more cons to it than pros, mainly because I don’t know how to find common ground to create balance.
Two Coronas and half a shot: Something has changed. I don’t know what exactly. I suppose I have given the world a little more access. And I like it.
But at the same time, I need to resuscitate my writing persona before I forget who I really am.
I’ve realised that I’m my own worst sadist, now too tired to care as there is no evidence that what I feel will ever mean anything.
Once hope dies, that will be it. If the epiphany is a simple “fuck it”-message with a kiss at the bottom, I shall gratefully embrace it without further questioning. All I mean is: I need to accept that the truth is not meant to be told, not this one.
Still, I believe that a little less grey matter will lead me towards acceptance.
Maybe right and wrong are really just a myth, and the truth is only what I believe in.
The notion that all feelings are related to the brain scares me; a little malfunction can change everything.
Or maybe feelings are merely illusory. Every candlelight will go out, and every meaningful person will drift away as the moon drifts away from the earth every year. Mother Earth made love with a wandering asteroid, and the result was the moon, which is still growing up. Will Mother Earth ever let her child go? Our nocturnal friend, who is responsible for tide and sexual arousal…
The face of a crying child…
It’s all about letting go.
