Here's to one hell of a decade...

To capture a predator...

This is a dark tale. A grim tale. It's a tale from another time, a time when wolves waited for boys in the forest, beasts paced the halls of cursed castles, and witches lurked in gingerbread houses with sugar-kissed roofs. That time is long gone. But the wolves are still here and twice as clever. The beasts remain. And death still hides in a dusting of white. It's grim for any boy who loses his way. Grimmer still for a boy that loses himself. Know that it's dangerous to stray from the path. But it's far more dangerous not to.

Become the beast...

I need to be alone. I need to ponder my choices and my path in seclusion; I need the sunshine and the paving stones of the streets without companions, without conversation, face to face with myself, with only the music of my heart for company.

I have learned to cherish my solitude. Maybe to a fault. I can take trains by myself to places I have never been. Sleep out alone under the stars. Learn how to drive without knowing where I'm going. To go so far away that I stop being afraid of not coming back. Say no when I don't want to do something. Say yes if my instincts are strong, even if everyone around me disagrees. I had to decide whether I wanted to be liked or admired. To decide if fitting in is more important than finding out what I'm doing here. I had to learn how to believe in something. How to believe in myself.

Splinters of my soul...

I've always been a hunter,

nothing on my tail,

but there was something in you,

I knew could make that change.

To capture a predator,

you can't remain the prey.

You have to become

an equal in every way.

So look in the mirror

and tell me, who do you see?

Is it still you?

or is it me?

That special time of the decade...

It's been quite the year. Hell ... it's been quite the decade. And as both are slowly coming to a close I cannot help but think about everything that happened. And when I say everything, I mean it literally. As in; in the past ten years everything had happened. Literally everything. It's hard to even phantom the magnitude of those moments - that defined, shaped and moulded me into the man I am today. Can you still remember that boy? Who ran away, just so he could one day return back home? Do you remember how he took long walks, listened to music and thought about all the mistakes he had made? If only he knew back then, that they weren't mistakes at all, and that the walk he was on, wasn't leading him in circles, but was paving the way forward. The way through the pain. The way ahead.

A sentimental feeling...

You get towards the end of life - no, not life itself, but of something else: the end of any likelihood of change in that life. You are allowed a long moment of pause, time enough to ask the question: what else have I done wrong? And as you will slowly come to realise the truth, your heart will burst like stars do when they die, and you will fall on your knees. Time will stop and it will feel as if the whole world is looking at you in awe. You will light the whole universe with your fire for the briefest of moments. In the end, you will be as beautiful as the stardust falling from the sky and your heart won't ache anymore.

Walk through fire for you...

More than you could ever know...

Make my wish come true...

I'm going to enjoy every second, and I'm going to know I'm enjoying it while I'm enjoying it. Most people don't live; they just race. They are trying to reach some goal far away on the horizon, and in the heat of the going they get so breathless and panting that they lose sight of the beautiful, tranquil country they are passing through; and then the first thing they know, they are old and worn out, and it doesn't make any difference whether they've reached the goal or not.

He doesn't want to forget these moments that constantly remind him of who he is, who he was, and who he is yet to be. He doesn't want to forget his past and all the things about this world that's brought him here. With you. So stop making up excuses. Stop hiding. Stop running from him. You're the light at the end of his tunnel, his saving grace. Admitting that made him think about how much everyone wanted to be free; how they went mad wanting their freedom; he began to wonder whether it was he that was mad because he was happy to be bound; whether he was alone in knowing that he could not live without the clamor of your voice besides him.

Back to my ways...

I am a big believer in setting goals. Simply dig within, and discover what you would like to have happen in your life in the future. What would you like to attain? Little things and big things? Where would you like to go? The answers help you do your part. It is an affirmation that you're interested in fully living life in the year to come. Goals give us direction. They put a powerful force into play on a universal, conscious, and subconscious level. Write it down. Take a piece of paper, a few hours of your time, and write it all down - as an affirmation of you, your life, and your ability to choose. Then let it go.

Run down your wildest dreams...

The best teachers have showed me that things have to be done bit by bit. Nothing that means anything happens quickly - we only think it does. The motion of drawing back a bow and sending an arrow straight into a target takes only a split second, but it is a skill many years in the making. So it is with a life, anyone's life. I may list things that might be described as my accomplishments, but they are only shadows of the larger truth, fragments separated from the whole cycle of becoming. And if I can tell an old-time story now about a man who is walking about, a city born man, it is because I spent many years walking about myself, listening to voices that came not just from the people but from the walls and buildings, and lights and stones.

Just let me adore you...

Your wonder under summer sky,

brown skin and lemon over ice,

would you believe it?

You don't have to say you love me,

I just wanna tell you something,

lately we've been on my mind.

I'd give anything, to have you here...

The demons we're made of...

Feeding the flame...

I have thought a lot about death recently - what it means to lose someone close. To lose a brother is to lose someone with whom you can share the experience of growing old, who is supposed to bring you a sister-in-law and nieces and nephews, creatures who inhabit the tree of your life and give it new branches. To lose your father is to lose the one whose guidance and help you seek, who supports you like a tree trunk supports its branches. To lose your mother, well, that is like losing the sun above you. It is like losing - I'm sorry, I would rather not go on.

No one fights dirtier or more brutally than blood; only family knows it's own weaknesses, the exact placement of the heart. What to say and how to say it to provoke a reaction. The tragedy is that one can still live with the force of hatred, feel infuriated that once you are born to another, that kinship lasts through life and death, immutable, unchanging, no matter how great the misdeed or betrayal. Blood cannot be denied, and perhaps that’s why we fight tooth and claw, because we cannot - being only human - put asunder what the universe has joined together.

Quiet winter melodies...

It just hit me - it's the last month of the decade. And this thing that is not a blog has been here for all of it. Documenting, commenting and most importantly helping cope with life. Because if anything, it really happened in the last 10 years. Life I mean. It happened so intensely and vigorously that I cannot quite grasp it. It set the foundations for the rest of my journey, and while that scares me, I am also excited what this existence still has to offer. But to fully embrace it, the triangle demands three complementary elements: love, power and danger. Mixed incautiously, these elements, like those in physics, are volatile and potentially explosive. And while I am not quite ready to announce it, this decade is about to go out with a bang.