Shooting flares to the sky...

This is a letter to everyone who ever thought of me as their friend, to those of you who gazed into my eyes and wondered if I was the boy of your dreams, to anyone who's ever wished upon a star for me, who's known my darkest corners and brightest of reflections. I just wanted to say that even though our stories have taken different turns, and our paths shall probably never cross again, I think of you everyday before I go to sleep. I think of you as the sun starts drowning and the sky is enveloped by twilight. I think of you when I'm about to make a mistake - I imagine what you would have to say, what kind of advice you would give, and how you'd react when I'd inevitably go ahead and make the wrong choice. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I haven't stopped loving you. Every single one of you fills my heart with endless passion for the life we shared. I realise that my mind is my greatest arch-enemy, as it won't let me forget, yet against reason and hope, I conjure fantasy upon fantasy, dream upon a dream and story upon story. Maybe they'll come true - just this once.

Bombs over nowhere...

We never really think about our mortality until it's laughing in our face, mocking out inherent inability to deny its existence. No one ever tells you that once the timer of your life has been set, there's little one can do but pout and moan, all the while knowing that nothing will change the fact that death shall come knocking soon - sooner than we ever expected. Fight or flight holds no sway here, as in the end, all of us lose, all of us dissipate into nothingness, into a darkness that can never be lit.

It only takes one person, one moment, to change your life forever. To change your perspective, to colour your thinking, to force you to re-evaluate everything you think you know, and to make you ask yourself the toughest questions. Do you know who you are? Do you understand what has happened to you? Do you want to live this way? Once a choice has been made, it can never be taken back, and while we'd like to imagine how our lives would be different if only we would have tried a little harder, if only we could have held on for a little longer, if only we'd said the right words, instead of staying silent and letting everything fall apart - the truth is, there is no butterfly effect and we'll never really understand how things might have turned out. There is no hidden meaning in the past, only memories slowly being forgotten, and people we once loved, becoming people we knew, and people we knew becoming people we'll never know again.

It's going to find me...

Apathy is death...

Že celo življenje nism nč napisu,
že tisoč let nemo stojim,
že zdavnaj sem rekel zbogom,
zaka pol še vedno k tebi lebdim?

Sploh ni besed za sedanjost,
preteklost mi bode spomin,
prihodnosti si ne upam več sanjat,
še fantazije zažgem do mrcvin.

Bežim pred svojim obsesijam,
tko hitr, da še sam sebe dohtim,
bežim pred njenim pogledom,
bežim ... samo še bežim.

Choosing my last words...

Kot da me sploh ne bi bilo.

Kot da bi bil senca svoje sence,

ki izginja v svoji nenavzočnosti. 

My greatest flaw, my absolutely biggest inadequacy is that I don't lead my life like most - striving for goals or reaching for connections. I live my life like a story I would one day wish to tell, and as it turns out, living like that strays one down a very dark path. I change my mind at a whim, I pretend to care when I really don't, and worst of all, I give the illusion of love even though it's nowhere to be found. The saddest part is that all I am left with at the end of the day are words on pieces of paper that no one will ever read. I have banished every obsession except the one I am laying before you, because it is so deeply rooted in my consciousness that I don't even know how to start. I try to find its strands of birth, how it came to be that the boy who wanted the sun, decided he'd rather write about the adventure to get there, than actually trying to sprout his wings and fly towards the sky. I ponder my decisions, events in my past, and all the circumstances I had to overcome, yet the answers elude me still. Perhaps this is just who I am, who I'll always remain. A boy writing instead of living, a boy who'd rather go down with this ship, than raise his white flag and erase the words dooming him to a forever lonesome existence. 

The life inside my eyes...

As I take steps to once again undergo a metamorphosis into whatever new version of myself I end up with, I am knocked down by the realisation that shedding my addictions will be far harder than I imagined. We take for granted the little things that control our lives - from the most trivial distractions to those who take away our soul with full force and magnitude. One by one I am letting go, and while it feels as if there is less of me with each passing moment, I somehow know that I'm becoming a person of greater substance. I will familiarize myself with all aspects of life, even the ones I swore I'd never experience. There is so much to learn, to observe, to let sink in that I find myself losing breath. Yet the most important lesson I've embraced is that sometimes I just need to shut the fuck up. Not everything has to be said or revealed, because as long as I feel it, and understand why, I can dash forward without making a spectacle of things. I'll let it pass, I shall hold my tongue, then all of them will think that I've moved on.

A tear that falls on every page...

When I awoke I felt the call to go,

I spent the time to see which way to walk,

but now the road just crumbles as I talk.

Laugh and let it go...

And as always, change is an extremely painful process.

Places I never thought I'd go...

The straw that broke the camels back was like a tidal wave - it came out of nowhere and it hit with such force and magnitude that he barely made it home. He cannot remember the last time he cried, yet as sunrise illuminated his way, tears seemed to have been never ending. He screamed for them to stop, but then he realised that there was no one to hear his call. The universe has given up on him, and he was finally forced to admit that the break he needs to fly away is always out of reach and will remain a dream of dreams until the end of his days. 

Stop reading, I beg you. I cannot do this anymore, yet as long as you are here, I feel compelled to continue. Every word written down makes me feel like I have failed all over again. There is no salvation for me. There is no hope or means of redemption or possibilities to transcend. I have become what I have always feared - as ordinary as one can be. There is no more light in my eyes, no more resolve to claw through the rubble I created to grasp at a fantasy I can't even remember phantoming. Please, you need to let me go, because I can't do it myself. I am weaker by the passing second, and all I can think about is how pathetic me writing this really is. I have no options. No window I can climb through, no sledgehammer I could use to tear down the door. All that is left is a heart which was broken into a thousand tiny pieces, and fleeting tenacity to glue it back together.

Try again, fail better...

I need to let go of all my preconceptions about how my life is supposed to look like. I made these rules for myself so long ago that now they don't make sense anymore. I'm trying to go head first through a brick wall, even though I could jump over it with ease. I guess I can't become who I'm meant to be, if I don't accept that I might not be who I've dreamt of, but perhaps someone completely different, someone really true. I'm scared because so many things aren't working out the way I planned - and it's not that my life is bad, it's not bad at the least - it's just that I don't recognise my surroundings, yet they feel perfectly perfect for me. There is so much magic in this world, I only need to let it in. I shall love when I feel it, let myself be loved, when I need it, and lust for life as much as I possibly can. Because I realise I will never again have these opportunities, never again will I see the world as uniquely as I do this very second, and while I might stumble and fall and bruise every bone in my body, I shall do so with a grin on my face, and the satisfaction of knowing that I have lived every moment of my every day.

You're my vision of ecstasy...

I still call it magic...

There is no passing of time, no amount of struggle or change or defeat, no magnitude of failure or success that would ever diminish you. There are no more emotions, even memories have faded, yet you are what you've always been. His first love. His admission that he is different, and that he wants to lead an original life. You are his forever intangible fantasy of the perfect union - of two lost souls being reconnected as if they were once a single entity, torn apart solely for the purpose of intertwining once more, of erecting a monument dedicated to indestructible bonds. The look in your eyes gave him pause as vividly as it did three years ago, and the smile on your face made him remember why he fell for you to begin with. Who knows when you shall meet again, and in truth it matters not if you will, for the real miracle and the most tragic yet blissful aspect of life, is that it moves on - always and without exception. 

I am becoming someone new again. This time I didn't want it to happen, but I guess the greatest transformations are the ones we don't see coming. I will not fight it, I will not raise questions towards it, because if I've learned anything is that the more I refuse change, the more brutally it knocks me down. I will stop doubting myself, and forcing myself to be perfect in ways I imagined long ago. My reality has shifted and I no longer need to cling to ideals I concocted in the past. Life unfolds, and I can either adapt or be run over by those who embrace every aspect of themselves - even the darkest corners. I think ... I think I'll end up being a better person, or if nothing else at least one who can wholeheartedly say that he has experienced as many things as the universe has to offer, and maybe one day becoming someone who not only writes stories, but also lives them.

Spring is coming...

A room within a room...

Call it magic,

call it true,

I call it magic

when I'm with you.

And I just got broken,

broken into two,

still I call it magic

when I'm next to you.

And with all your magic

I disappear from view,

and I can't get over,

can't get over you.

Still I call it magic,

such a precious jewel.

Unchoosing my choices...

The time has come to detox. To extinguish some of my recent questionable decisions and redeem what is left of my throbbing heart. I need to let go of my obsessions, from running to you when I'm lonely, to running just for the sake of it - until I collapse under the pressure of my aching body, and that pain overshadows the agony of my soul being torn asunder. Who would have ever thought that the journey I embarked upon would lead me to this moment in time, to this crystal clear realisation that in fact, I haven't actually moved an inch. As the universe prepares for its final seismic toss, I can feel my every muscle relax, as if they know fighting back would be utterly pointless, as if the battle had already been lost and not just begun. I wonder how long I'll last, and if I even have the strength to live without any of my shortcomings - without substances to keep me afloat, without love to keep me writing, without dreams to keep me going. What am I without all of those things? Do I even exists, and if I don't, does that mean I never truly will? I can honestly say that the answers make my entire body shiver, but perhaps even posing the questions is enough to get me through.

Can't stay away, can't fight it...

I had hoped you'd see my face,

and be reminded that for me it isn't over.

I don't want to be writing this, because I'm not even certain it's how I really feel. I guess sometimes words need to be written down, just to be sure they aren't fragments of my imagination, but raw truths secluded within the walls of my mind. You were my first try, and I know you've moved on, and you're happier than you ever were with me, and I know we hurt each other in ways that can never be taken back, and I know I said I've moved on and let go, and I realise you will never even read this - yet all of this can't stop me from saying that a part of me will always want a part of you. I think that's why I self-destructed any kind of relationship other than the real deal - I refuse to have you in any other form than the highest of bonds. One held together by a keen understanding of the other, and above all, a lust for the life shared, and the life ahead. I will miss you even when you shall long since forget my face. I will miss you until the end of my days.