12 june
I'm clinging to people from my past that I left without paying my debts.
I'm clinging to his image. Him. No matter who. They were all just one lover through my eyes. An only image I was searching in anyone.
An obsession, leading to isolation, leading to unfulfillment. An obsession that got me stuck in this contretemps, where I'm stuck between past and present, and no lead to the future.
I'm not real anymore, I'm living no more, I'm just this wreck trying to hide my emptiness because I can't fill it, I lack the courage.
I just lie here waiting for a wonder, but never praying for it, because I lack the guts to face it. I lack the guts to live, so I sit here killing any wonder coming my way. Downing everything in my memories. They were too much, they were too little.
I used to run to get at his level. He told me it's silly- that's not what he needed. I still ran, until I got ahead of him. I ran to exceed my own fears weighting like grudges above me.
Still, I never ran further enough to lose from sight all my unclosed chapters. Or, maybe, I ran too fast for them, and too slow for me.
I'm stuck rejecting them, but I can't find him anymore.
16 june
Life seems like a flood of feelings. Every drop that hits carves your destiny in this world.
They say life is subjective. They say we choose it with our unconscious mind. I say we don't really choose it- not always, and certainly not from the beginning. But we choose how to react to it- how to paint, the colors being our emotions, the brushes- our thoughts. We can get any colors, darker, brighter, it doesn't matter, we can mix the shades anyway. And we get brushes, which we need to define the lines. They can be any size but, the more different brushes we have, the better we can define our painting.
That's what I want to paint today. Just a sketch of the bigger picture.
Keep the fighting out