Are we paying attention to the silent and the seemingly indifferent?
Are we seeing their unshed tears and hearing their unsaid words?
Are we aware of their uneasiness and their doubts?
Are we able to be kind, gentle, and compassionate to the invisible?
Are we paying attention?
We are paying.
I want to be madly and passionately in love. I want to be less sad. I want to be an optimist. I want to think less. I want to be seen. I want to stay hidden. I want to be free. I want to be alone. I want to never be alone. I want to turn back time. I want to travel in time. I want to undo situations. I want to redo situations. I want to be young. I want to be old. I want to be beautiful. I want people to take me seriously. I want to be somewhere else. I want to vanish. I want to waste my time. I want to daydream. I want a future. I want to be freed of the past. I want to trust you. I want you to trust me too. I want to laugh with you. I want to make you laugh. I want you to make me laugh. I want to cry. I want to cry with you. I want you to make me cry. I want to be intelligent. I want to be merciful. I want to be special. I want to be inspired. I want to be inspiring. I want to be at peace. I want to stay melancholic. I want to be your most important memory. I want you to recognize me. I want to be talented. I don’t want to hide. I want to stay compassionate. I want to stay confused and amazed about the world and people. I want to keep contradicting myself. I want to be more than a fantasy. I want to live. I want to be me. I want to know me. I want you to know me. I want to be interested. I want to be interesting. I want to find me. I want to be sensual. I want to step into the light. I want to stay in my darkness. I want to go out of my mind. I want to stay who I am. I want so many different things. I want to be everything. I want to be no one at all.
I am the waves going back and forth, caressing the sand and my lover’s skin. I’m moving, dancing to my own rhythm. I am a song; a feeling; a thought. I am the sun, shining or burning. I am the wind, cooling or bringing destruction. I am the moon, playing hide and seek. I am a smile or a tear. I am everything.
And so are you.
I miss you.
? Huh ?
I miss your presence
I miss the person I am with you
I miss your scent, laughter… (Anything based on sense)
I miss not being alone
I miss your attention
I miss the things you do to impress me
I miss feeling loved/admired
I miss you.
My mind never understands “I miss you.”
Maybe those three words are normal for someone else, for me, I wonder why, what did I do to be missed. I am not special; I am me.
I miss people and things too. Because they mean something to me. Because their presence makes me feel good. Because they make me feel understood/loved. Because they see me.
Funnily enough… I cannot imagine anyone missing me. I cannot imagine what anyone could miss about me.
I am a special person. Unique. Why wouldn’t anyone miss me?!
My mind is a very strange place. Filled with contradictions.
I am tired. These are disappearing feelings fueled by a tired mind. At least that’s what I am telling myself.
You scratched my soul
And I am fading from my body.
You left me invisible to myself
But I am holding on.
Lock away what is left of me.
I love my husband; I really do. For me, he is the best person there is. Patient, funny, and he has amazing green eyes. I feel safe with him, but free too. I have the freedom to be who I am and to find out who I want to be. I can explore likes and dislikes and even people, and I can talk about anything and everything with him. For him, I am an open book, I cannot lie to him, and I cannot keep secrets from him. Although I admit, I don’t tell him everything either. I fell in love with my husband 19 years ago. And I will never leave him by choice. I couldn’t imagine a life without him. Sometimes we are at a restaurant, talking and talking and laughing for hours, and we look at other couples staring at their mobile phones or not talking at all – we imagine how long they have been together.
I would love to share a picture of us, but I made a conscious decision long ago not to share pics of my family online. It is my choice to expose myself on this blog, not theirs.
Keep your love alive. 💜
Endless thoughts are turning into stars in her eyes
Last day of my sick leave. A day filled with coughing and sniffing comes to a close. Dizziness and tiredness were added to the mix tonight. At least I ate. Spaghetti with Garlic and Olive Oil. Spicy of course. I like it spicy.
Tomorrow I am back at work. Medicated. Earliest shift at 7am.
I feel the need to apologise a bit for these last entries… I am not inspired to write. At all. I used to have a routine where I got up, wrote for an hour and then did whatever needed to be done. That was before I started work. Right now, I am too tired to write anything in the style of what I used to write. I miss that. I read one of my old stories during my sick leave. Actually, it’s a story with three parts. And they are good. They are entertaining. Of course, they need work here and there, my English improved and feels less forced here or there, but that’s beside the point. I am a writer. A damned good one at that, but life got in the way of me and my creativity.
By the way… I haven’t sold a copy of my poetry collection in 8 months. (And not one through this site) If you like my poetry, consider the purchase of my book.
Thank you. And Good night.