over

like the blossom of an ugly flower

it still exists - you don’t want to see it.

buried deep in memory and the now,
regretting the past and worrying about the future -

• where is now?

despair, I run after you and a bunch of people keep walking between us. I can’t reach you. You hug me and slide from my arms like quicksand - the same one in which I still stand, ever so slowly disappearing… inch by inch, terribly frozen in muted limbs.

it is pure fear, confusion, terror. Survival is hypothetical and each atom is working against all others - there’s a fight going on and it’s bloody, tearful, painful.

one feels like disappearing - if not forever, at least until reality is back again.

reality… how I miss you. Desperately. I want to grab you with my hands and mold you to a small token I can swallow. Let reality live inside me, please, if you may.

everything is a million miles away from my extended arms, which are already half-covered in sand. And I feel nothing except a bit of everything. And it’s all too much and not enough at the same time…

this veil, this damn black dog or whatever the metaphor was - are you kidding me? I cannot have it again. I don’t want it, I’m fighting, kicking even if I can’t move.

i wish. I wish a lot. Every single second I wish. That reality comes back and covers me like a weightless satin sheet in the wind… that I can feel it on my skin, with my eyes closed while they still can see through the other senses…

i wish you reality… I wish you.

come to me as I am losing you, please walk towards me. You can come slowly but please come… let me know with each step - a thunderous one, that lets me know you’re on your way.

find me, please.

please find me…

“it’s still hard”

“it’s not that it’s easy and it’s simple but it’s doable” I hear from the speakers of my laptop.

i can trust this message. It’s grey. Nor black nor white. Therefore, the ability to believe in it exponentially rises…

i haven’t been OK. If there’s a time I can pinpoint as the beginning of the fall it would be… September 2023. there were signs… signs I ignored… signs I misinterpreted. Because I’d never imagine I’d be in a black hole ever again… not at this age, not right now, not… again.

all I have left is a tiny bit of hope that I keep in my heart for when the head forgets about it.

the glass shield

is tougher than real glass. Because there is reality and there is what we want to make of it… right?

it doesn’t shatter the same way, it bends where we touch it - it’s a shield after all, designed to protect us with access to the external world through vision.

isn’t it nice? To be in yourself? Fully? Sometimes it escapes me - the realness of the me. Alas, when not escaped, it feels soothing…

as if everything is right where it should be - every single teeny tiny thing. It makes sense. Like the last piece of the puzzle that fits in like a rubber glove and gives you pleasure to press on to the rest of the scene.

all days should be like this - welcoming. Opening their arms to receive us and fully allow us to live, experience, dream and exist.

the dread is never too far away, confusion in our minds is still a guarantee of sorts… but let us be welcoming of the freedom when dread is not in us completely. Let us be in seizing moment after moment of standing still in time and space, a linear regularity that we can only truly feel and never be objective about.

time and space… space and time. It’s still confusing to my mind how we, as humans, have conceived something we call the “internet”. How come something where we get together can create so much loneliness? How do I conceive of other humans instead of magical happenings that create words and dialogues? Who is there? Are YOU there?

I know I am here, and (today) I know I am real. Very real. But are YOU? Real? I wish I could feel it in my bones, your realness. Your tenderness, your ways of living life, your ways of speaking. I miss them.

my mind cannot conceive of you in a 3D form, a physical shape that can be touched and perceived through my senses. It’s a hazy memory of a presence, a ghostly figure that sometimes appears in dreams - those feel more real than what I can perceive from the distance of our bodies, the many miles, the hours, time and space.

are YOU real? What have you done to make sure of it today?

be real. Please be real. Hold me and tell me I am real, that you are real, that we are both real. That the “internet” can allow us to share words which are not magical happenings or figments of imagination from an entity designed to make humans believe they’re less alone…

i am lonely. I am. I’m also real. For now, at least. I wasn’t yesterday. But that was yesterday - before another set of dreams, another set of routines that have restoration of the body as the main goal.

it’s a restart. Every single day is a restart. Not without nightmares and weird, scary mind monsters that come to say hi during the reset phase of every 24 hours.

but still.. it’s the best we have. We are only human after all. ONLY human. Not to be reductive - humanness is astoundingly beautiful and big. Too big for me to grasp it fully.

we are… we just are.

so I have my glass shield and I interact here and there, when I can, knowing my shield will make my humanness less susceptible to pain or hurt… or so I like to believe.

(please let me believe - shhhhhhush)

a window to the world

they say.

it’s late night. They say the TV is a window to the world. That the world is all online. I can’t see it. I can’t feel it.

there’s nothing in nothingness - not even access to a window. Walls are closed-in, boxed-in, locking-in, pressing-in.

everything -in and nothing out at all.

music runs through the ears and nothing seems to go OUT. Only in. More in, becoming smaller and smaller and tiny.

the vastly different perceptions are extraordinarily present tonight - the sounds are more aggravating, the colours are duller, the sizes are… smaller, as if I am a giant or, vice-versa - that I’ve became tiny.

i don’t like this. It’s scary. Please stand there.

right there, where I know you’re at. Because being there is enough. It’s good enough. Be there. That’s all I ask. I don’t need much more. Be there. Don’t disappear. Don’t fade away - you promised you wouldn’t. I have it in your handwriting. “Our love won’t fade away”. In pink. Digital artwork. I have it to prove it to the world I’m not insane - that I know of, at least, one thing that I’m talking about.

because when walls are closing in on me, that will be the only thing I am sure of. In the midst of fear, terror and panic, that is a sure thing. That you exist. That you are there. Which kinda means here because a special place in me is all yours, forever. It’s yours because I gave it to you and you accepted it and have showed to take great care of it.

it’s all broken now, I’m sorry - you’ll have to be extra careful from now on. Please glue it back together. I’ll try my best to glue back the pieces I have, you try to make those more cohesive. If there’s no glue just put it in a zip-lock bag and carry it in your smallest pocket.

if one day you have open heart surgery ask them to pour the teeny tiny pieces of my heart into yours, so it can grow back with yours, get stronger, beat at the same rhythm, keep warm and safe.

because your heart has always been the best place to be.

fuck. I miss you.

in a sea

of numb and dumb

I prevail (I’d like to think) - not less numb and dumb but aware.

i dream of toasty sun, making my skin crackle.

i dream of being the real me, the one who is not outside of this reality, watching it unfold with no control over what is happening or how… it’s not a nice reality to be this way.

it’s far removed from what I know - the hands reach out for things I don’t want to do, my eyes are peeled in colours I’d never seen before, my ears detect sounds I never paid attention to. Too far removed, too far gone, too… too…

let us be in isolation and condemnation for the realities we don’t seem fit to exist in.

let us stay in co-mmiseration with ourselves, our doubles and repeats - the ones at night and during the day, including sun set and rise.

let us be in figuring it out…

life is harder than all of the previous hardships we’ve been through and it still plagues us that pain can be so intense, time after time, low after low.

misophonia

at the lack of your breathing.

your presence felt as if it’s close to the point of meshing together. Like clouds incoming on each other, engulfed.

my bunny is schrodinger’s cat and my toy is in a galaxy far far away…

i shall return. We shall be. I want to know about all the childhood memories,

i want to know about a common future,

i want to discover more and be in complete awe,

i want home somewhere where voices are always low,

i want to slowly peel all the layers over the heart,

i want to not finish the joke because I know it’ll be said anyway.

love. love. despair. love. love. love. love. despair. love. despair. despair. love. love.