Waiting here for evermore...

Even as they fade from view...

Sometimes I feel like if you just watch things, just sit still and let the world exist in front of you - sometimes I swear that just for a second time freezes and the world pauses in its tilt. Just for a second. And if you somehow found a way to live in that second, then you would live forever. The truth is … I'm afraid of time. I mean, I'm afraid of not having enough time. Not enough time to understand people, how they really are, or to be understood myself. I'm afraid of the quick judgements or mistakes everybody makes. You can't fix them without time. I'm frightened of seeing snapshots, not movies. I'm scared of not being able to spend enough time with you. I'm worried time won't give me the explanations I need. How did it get so late so soon?

Move on, come what may...

Potovanja od misli do misli,

od mesta do mesta,

ta dolga cesta.

Pričakovanja od tebe do mene,

od mene do tebe.

Noči brez spanja dnevi čakanja

in zrno upanja.

Iskanja drugih načinov

za isto početje -

srčno imetje.

Learnt the truth too late...

It's not all bad. Heightened self-consciousness, apartness, an inability to join in, physical shame and self-loathing - they are not all bad. Those devils have been my angels. Without them I would never have disappeared into writing, the mind, laughter and all the mad intensities that made and unmade me. I can be by myself because I'm never lonely; I'm simply alone, living in my heavily populated solitude, a harum-scarum of infinity and eternity, and infinity and eternity seem to take a liking to the likes of me.

There comes a time when something changes you. No matter the impact... Where the world no longer beats in time with you. You no longer feel amongst the fray.. And the feeling of loneliness is a brandished armor you wear the rest of your life. It spins its mysterious cocoon, focusing the mind on one place, one time, one rhythm - the turning of the light. The island knows no other human voices, no other footprints. On the shore of isolation you can live any story you want to tell yourself, and no one will say you're wrong: not the seagulls, not the prisms, not the wind.

Lost in the current...

Ease your mind young child, your expecting too much of yourself. Acceptance comes in waves and today you may be drowning but tomorrow you could conquer the entire ocean. Take each day as it comes and flow into it's course, sometimes control isn't the only option. Sit down, rest and re-group for a while - you owe yourself that much. Because when you understand that there is nothing really good or bad in this world in the absolute sense, you focus your attention on balancing everything in the appropriate manner rather than craving for something and discarding the rest. And if you do it right and are extremely lucky, tears shall well your eyes, bringing to the surface an emotion that you had always thought would forever linger out of your reach. You will be at peace.

Think fast, never come in last...

I yearn to stay in this in-between place, where the beauty of the times I have freshly bade goodbye to is still alive and vivid in my mind – almost real – and the reality of my new circumstances has yet to fully sink in. I listen to the familiar melodies that had accompanied me on my journey, and allow the music to evoke landscapes and scenes in my mind. The songs caress my sub-consciousness and fill my being with an airy joy. I am both here and elsewhere. Or perhaps I am everywhere and nowhere. At least for one moment longer. There was something magical about not saying your final farewell, like a door left open in the chill night. Fleeting as a breath, yet filled with life, unlike anything I've ever inhaled before.

Won't relax, no slack, hit the jackpot...

 

There's rivers to cross and hills to climb...

It don't matter to me,

wherever we are is where I wanna be.

And, honey, for once in our life,

let's take our chances and roll the dice.

I can be your lucky penny,

you can be my four-leaf clover,

starting over.

The master of my fate...

 

Writing letters addressed to the fire...

That's what real love amounts to - letting a person be what he really is. Most people love you for who you pretend to be. To keep their love, you keep pretending - performing. You get to love your pretence. It's true, we're locked in an image, an act - and the sad thing is, people get so used to their image, they grow attached to their masks. They love their chains. They forget all about who they really are. And if you try to remind them, they hate you for it, they feel like you're trying to steal their most precious possession.

Each time, you come out of it a little stronger, and at some point you realize that there are more flavors of pain than coffee. There's the little empty pain of leaving something behind - graduating, taking the next step forward, walking out of something familiar and safe into the unknown. There's the big, whirling pain of life upending all of your plans and expectations. There's the sharp little pains of failure, and the more obscure aches of successes that didn't give you what you thought they would. There are the vicious, stabbing pains of hopes being torn up. The sweet little pains of finding others, giving them your love, and taking joy in their life. There's the steady pain of empathy that you shrug off so you can stand beside a wounded friend and help them bear their burdens. And if you're very, very lucky, there are a few blazing hot little pains you feel when you grasp that you are standing in a moment of utter perfection, an instant of triumph, or happiness, or mirth which at the same time cannot possibly last - and yet will remain with you for life.

Long story short, I survived...

Close you eyes and you can very well see your past. And while you can't change it, the time you have spent, you lived through all and hence you are a hero not for the glorious war, but for the sheer notion that time has not yet swallowed you whole. And the credit for that will always belong to those who are actually in the arena, who strive valiantly; who know the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spend themselves in a worthy cause; who at best know the triumph of high achievement; and who, at worst, if they fail, fail while daring greatly, so that their place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.

Take my hand, wreck my plans...

 

Won't relax, no slack, hit the jackpot...

If I'm not grinding, might as well put me in hell.

Labels chasing me because I deactivated stealth.

Fucking hated school, I was saved by the bell.

Ain't so different from you, yeah, why can't you tell?

Cash in, cash out, consider it dealt.

Do this for myself, I ain't do it for the clout.

Never copy lanes, yeah, I took another route.

Always cause 'grains, never shared a bit of doubt.

Consider it delt...

You might never fail on the scale I did, but some failure in life is inevitable. It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all - in which case, you fail by default. And in fact, it takes only a split second for life to go horribly wrong. To fix the mess, I need a thousand things to go right. The distance from one bit of luck to the next feels as great as the distance across oceans. As something completely out of grasp. Something so far above my current gutter than any ascension is nearly impossible. But, I decided in this moment, I will bridge that distance, again and again, until I win. I will not fail.

Excuse me while I burn my own bridge...

 

Every man for himself...

Distance changes utterly when you take the world on foot. A mile becomes a long way, two miles literally considerable. The world, you realise, is enormous in a way that only you and a small community of fellow walkers know. Life takes on a neat simplicity, too. Time ceases to have any meaning. It's quite wonderful, really; you exist in a tranquil tedium, serenely beyond the reach of exasperation, far removed from the seats of strife. All that is required of you is a willingness to trudge.

At times, you become almost certain that you slabbed this road before, crossed this street yesterday, clambered into these people at least twice today already. But most of the time you don't think. Instead, your brain is like a balloon tethered with string, accompanying but not actually part of the body below. Walking for hours and miles becomes as automatic, as unremarkable, as breathing. At the end of the day you don't think. It's where you were yesterday, where you will be tomorrow. The woods is one boundless singularity. Every bend in the path presents a prospect indistinguishable from every other, every glimpse into the trees the same tangled mass. For all you know, your route could describe a very large, pointless circle. In a way, it would hardly matter.

I am brave, I am bruised...

I think I have stumbled upon the key to successful relationships, and it lies not in emotion, but in completely rational train of thought. You simply have to recognising who can fulfil what - naturally. Relationships fail and we remain discontent because we are forcefully trying one to fill all the needs we might have. Passion, humor, safety … There are so many things in this world that we aspire to have - how could one person possibly fulfil them all? This is a powerful realisation, when it hits you, it can make you more content with who you have decided to spend your life with. It allows you to be more content with yourself. You cannot be everything for someone … just as no one person can be everything for you.

I'm not a stranger to the dark...

Wouldn't it be something if we could see the whole scale of it? As it stands now; if you drive down a long curvy road, you don't see the twists and turns until you are on top of them. Imagine being able to witness things from a much higher perspective. The whole road and the twists and the turns and the beginning and the end. I'd like to believe that there is someone above me that can recognise where I am in relation to where I am going and she can make things happen along the way at the intersections of my life. She can create the right time and the right place and she can already see how it all ends. She can see the whole story of my life while I am living it in little bits and pieces. Quite the thought, isn't it?

Look out, because here I come...

 

The greatest showman...

I am not a stranger to the dark,

hide away, they say,

because we don't want your broken parts.

I've learned to be ashamed of all my scars,

run away, they say,

no one'll love you as you are.

But I won't let them break me down to dust,

I know that there's a place for us,

for we are glorious.

Will do anything when the time is right...

In the proper sense, this is not a standard blog. It is what one might call "an exploration of self". Without the cringe. What I am searching for - with increasing clarity as the years progress - is something akin to the heart's natural resonance. I try to listen to it. Have conversations with it, where I am the interviewer and he the interviewee. But what I often heard were the vibrations of my soul. Something I could never quite decipher, but always fully understood. I recognised it as having long been a part of me, and at other times it came as a complete surprise. Like a long held breath waiting to be exhaled or a flicker of light trying to push away the darkness.

It became clear he could not start something without finishing it. If he climbed onto the boundary wall, he was compelled to walk the entire way, no matter the obstructions in his path. This compulsion, applied to other fields, manifested itself as an obsession. Almost as a psychosis, because something always led to something else, another goal, a process, of course, that could never be completed. This route through early life gave him no small portion of distress, and, indeed, it seemed at first that his desires and his capacities were basically always misaligned. Now he is starting to think if this is perhaps his greatest asset. Wasn't it possible that what he mistook for lunacy was in fact simply a very pure manifestation of who his truly is? Of who he can truly become?

Giving it everything I got...

The way it made me smile...

The best day of your life is the one on which you decide that your journey is your own. No apologies or excuses. No one to lean on, rely on, or blame. The gift is yours - it is an amazing opportunity - and you alone are responsible for the quality of it; where it takes you and if it, someday perhaps, leads you home. And what is home, if not a place you make up in your own mind? Something you dream about and sing about. Maybe it's not a place on the map at all, but just a story full of people you meet and places you visit, full of books and films you've been to. I'm not afraid of being homesick and having no language to live in. I don't have to be like anyone else. I'm walking on the wall and nobody can stop me.

Of broken promises and what could have been...

 

Know my love infinite...

Suppose you get a feeling to punch someone. If you act on it, a war breaks out with that person. If you resist the feeling, a war breaks out with yourself within your head. That is even worse. Accept all your feelings no matter how wrong they seem to you. Drink them in their original flavour. But act on them only and only if you want that person in the story of your life as a villain or hero. So when your opponent strikes you on your cheek, you strike her in the heart by your amazing spiritual audacity in turning the other cheek. You wrest the offensive from her by refusing to take his weapons, by keeping your own, and by striking her in his conscience from a higher level. She hits you physically, and you hit her spiritually. 

Calling out for the rope...

Oh, misty eye of the mountain below,

keep careful watch of my brother's soul,

and should the sky be filled with fire and smoke,

keep watching over our future sons.

.

If this is to end in fire,

then we should all burn together,

watch the flames climb high into the night.

Walk the line and try to see...

Concerning all acts of initiative and creation, there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issue from the decision, raising in one's favour all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would come his way. 

Beware the irrational, however seductive. Shun the transcendent and all who invite you to subordinate or annihilate yourself. Don't be afraid to be thought arrogant or selfish. Picture all experts as if they were mammals. Never be a spectator of unfairness or stupidity. Seek out argument and disputation for their own sake; the grave will provide plenty of time for silence. For it is said that the boldest thing you can do is think for yourself, but I believe that it is bolder still to act on those thoughts and ideas despite certain criticism and objections. To be true to yourself - to look straight into your own eyes reflected in the mirror and be loyal to the person you see - is to be bold indeed.

Maybe there's something I can take for this...

Keep you coming back for more...

 

Only so much until it's gone...

It is important not to suppress your feelings altogether when you are angry. It is equally important to avoid terrible arguments or expressions of outrage. You should steer clear of emotionally damaging behaviour. People forgive, but it is best not to stir things up to the point at which forgiveness is required. When you are raging, you need the love of other people, and yet furor fosters actions that destroy that love. It's like sticking pins into your own life rafts. Then, all that's left, is for the conscious mind to intervene. One is not helpless. Holding a grudge and harbouring resentment is poison to the soul. Get even with people, but not those who have hurt us, forget them, instead get even with those who have helped us.

Moonlight dances in my eyes...

Here is a story that's stranger than strange.

Before we begin you may want to arrange:

a blanket, a cushion, a comfortable seat,

and maybe some cocoa and something to eat.

I’ll warn you, of course, before we commence,

my story is eerie and full of suspense,

brimming with danger and narrow escapes,

and creatures of many remarkable shapes.

Dragons and ogres and gorgons and more,

and creatures you've not even heard of before.

And faraway places? There's plenty of those!

And menacing villains to tingle your toes.

So ready your mettle and steady your heart.

It's time for my story's mysterious start.

Tired of standing still...

Do as little harm to others as you can; make any sacrifice for your true friends; be responsible for yourself and ask nothing of others; and grab all the fun you can. Don't give much thought to yesterday, don't worry about tomorrow, live in the moment, and trust that your existence has meaning even when the world seems to be all blind chance and chaos. Even when all you seem to be doing is for circumstances to unfold, for your life to finally start after a stream of stagnation. When life lands a hammer blow in your face, do your best to respond to the hammer as if it had been a cream pie. Because as it turns out, sometimes, the only way to make your dreams come true is to shatter them.

A thief in the night...

As we laid in bed and I started reminiscing about the year I just had, I felt a sense of warmth that I very rarely get to experience. I was grateful that I have you by my side - even through what could be my worst moments as a person. And boy, did I have plenty of those recently. I dare not celebrate yet, though. Too often have I been given everything, just for it to be taken away the very next instant, so I will bide my excitement until the very end. Could it happen, though? Could this year, despite the challenges and downward spirals, still be the best year I ever had? Or maybe it will be the greatest, because of all those dreadful moments that I had to overcome? I will stop thinking about it now. I'd rather take your hand in mine, just for a few more minutes, and pretend like this is all that really matters.

Adversity is like a strong wind. I don't mean just that it holds us back from places we might otherwise go. It also tears away from us all but the things that cannot be torn, so that afterward we see ourselves as we really are, and not merely as we might like to be. But if everything was always smooth and perfect, you'd get too used to that, you know? You have to have a little bit of disorganization now and then. Otherwise, you'll never really enjoy it when things go right. Remind thyself, in the darkest moments, that every failure is only a step toward success, every detection of what is false directs you toward what is true, every trial exhausts some tempting form of error, and every adversity will only hide, for a time, your path to peace and fulfillment.

Simply singing my song...

 

Believing in nirvana...

The city is cold and empty...

My greatest sin by far is that I am an over-thinker. What if I said too much, not enough, just the right amount but was not clearly understood? And I have found that thinking about something is like picking up a stone when taking a walk, or skipping rocks on the beach, for example, or looking for a way to shatter the glass window of your current enemy, if you'll allow me to be a bit dramatic. When you think about something, it adds a bit of weight to your stride, and as you think about more and more things you are liable to feel heavier and heavier, until you are so burdened you cannot take any further steps, and can only sit and stare at the gentle movements of the ocean waves, thinking too hard about too many things to do anything else.

I'll be your cover...

Maybe it was all too much,

too much for a man to take,

everything's bound to break,

sooner or later.

You're all that I can trust,

facing the darkest days.

Everyone ran away,

but we're gonna stay here.

I know you're scared tonight,

I'll never leave your side.

The brightest days from the darkest nights...

If in me everything crumbled and shattered into tiny pieces, it is not because life had necessarily become an overwhelming one: it in fact had no other choice but to expand on all its contingencies. To become a full-flowing force that cannot truly be controlled or contained - something that has the ability to overrun everything. And now imagine all of that combined with a heart that can't be trusted? What if the heart, for its own unfathomable reasons, leads one wilfully and in a cloud of unspeakable radiance away from all that is rationally good and healthy. Away from responsibility and social connections and all the blandly-held common virtues and instead leads one down a path straight towards a beautiful flare of ruin, self-immolation, disaster?

The stillness of remembering what you had...

For me, this place I am stuck currently, is purgatory incarnate; neither good nor bad, but a gateway to great rewards or even greater punishments. And it has come to my attention that we can get nothing in this world worth keeping, not so much as a principle or a conviction, except out of purifying flame, or through strengthening peril. We err; we fall; we are humbled - then we walk more carefully. We greedily eat and drink poison out of the gilded cup of vice, or from the beggar's wallet of avarice; we are sickened, degraded; everything good in us rebels against us; our souls rise bitterly indignant against our bodies; there is a period of civil war; if the soul has strength, it conquers and rules thereafter. If not ...

Do you think there’s somewhere else, some other place to go after this one?

I wouldn’t know ... back to whatever void there is, I suppose.

I've thought about it ... it'll be lonely after death.

We won't be, though. We'll be dead, so we'll just be darkness, 

not much else, just memories, nostalgia and darkness.

I don't want to be any of that either. 

When we die, we'll still be nothing, the world will still be nothing, 

everything'll just be nothing!

You're real though, at least that's something.

No secrets or deception...

Coming all the way around...

The worst thing one can do is not to try, to be aware of what one wants and not give in to it, to spend years in silent hurt wondering if something could have materialised - never knowing. And yes, I've wasted all these years looking for something, a sort of trophy I'd get only if I really, really did enough to deserve it. But I don't want it anymore, I want something else now, something warm and sheltering, something I can turn to, regardless of what I do, regardless of who I become. Something that will just be there, always, like tomorrow's sky. That's what I want now, and I think it's what you should want too. But it will be too late soon. I'll become too set to change. If I don't take my chance now, another may never come again.

My perfect playground...

The uncertainties in life are so hazy they don't allow us to determine the kind of woe we shall be entangled in next. Because when you stay dormant, your life is at risk; when you dare to take a step, you take a step towards peril. We have a choice, though. A choice to choose to dare or to choose to live in mediocrity and conformity, but, we ought to note that it is riskier to risk nothing when the life we live is always waiting to be defied. It's no secret that trying new things, aiming high, and making bold choices can lead to failure or success. And putting yourself out there means you might fail miserably or succeed tremendously - or anywhere in between. Sadly, you don't get to decide which. But you do get to try.

Cleansing the demons...

When the sun had left and the winter came,

and the sky fall to only bring the rain,

I sat in darkness,

all broken hearted.

I couldn't find a day I didn't feel alone,

I never meant to cry, started losing hope,

but somehow, baby,

you broke through and saved me.

Acting brand new...

Victory is not to change the mind of the critic; 

it is to evaluate what you can learn and discard, 

yet still walk away with peace in your heart.

I used to think enduring struggles and hard days in silence and telling people everything was great meant I was strong. But recent events have taught me that hiding my misery just means I am scared - scared of people not loving me any other way. Scared of sharing the lessons that pain has to teach. It turns out people desperately need to see the full human experience, especially the dark parts. They need to know that other folks struggle, too, and that it's all part of a bigger story of triumph. They need permission to keep going, knowing that hardship is normal for everyone. Give them that gift. Have that courage. Tell the whole story.

You can find me chasing waterfalls...

 

I hope it happens for you...

Looking like an angel...

As it happened, and as it happened so publicly, I can't really explain all the emotions I was feeling. Such a variety that can only be understood as life. I thought; I shall remember this moment, and I now have the very unique opportunity to dictate how. Will it be an angry escalation that fuels further resentment and puts an ugly stain on my journey of the past 4 years or is there perhaps another way? A path with less words but just as loud? And being able to rise above it all doesn't mean I am better than others, it means I have made the choice to be better inside out. It means I have opted for forgiveness, dropped the drama, the pity, and everything else that dwells in a lower vibe. It isn't complicated. Rise.

I hear a lot about sinners...

There was something peculiarly gratifying about shouting in a blind rage until your words ran out. Of course, the aftermath was less pleasant. Once you'd told everyone you hated them and not to come after you, where exactly did you go? I guess my pride really does get in the way sometimes. I have turned out to be revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in. Then, when I looked over the horizon, it seemed as if a night of dark intent was coming, and not only a night, an age. Something I am quite sure I am unprepared for. 

As clouds enveloped the sky, they woke the being he was always lulling, and stirred up a craving cry he could not satisfy. It was the night of a thunder-storm; a sort of hurricane shook him in his bed: he rose in panic and started to shiver. The tempest took hold of him with tyranny: he was roughly roused and obliged to live. Outside was wet, it was wild, it was pitch dark. He tried to gather his thoughts as his night-lamp illuminated his face. He could not fall back asleep: too resistless was the delight of staying with the wild hour, black and full of thunder, pealing out such an ode as language could never deliver - too terribly glorious, the spectacle of clouds, split and pierced by white and blinding bolts.

You can keep it forever...

No, I don't wanna leave,

but I must keep moving ahead,

because my life belongs to the other side,

behind the great ocean's waves.

Bye bye, childhood hills,

I'm gonna miss you, wherever I go.

I'm gonna come back to walk these streets again,

bye bye, childhood hills forever.

Make me a king...

Change is not always a good thing. What I need is not novelty from one thing to another, but transformation from who I am into who I was meant to become. Only when fate's transforming power touches me can I begin to live the simpler, freer, fresher, more creative, more patient, more passionate, more sacrificial, riskier, rawer, more real, more love-driven life the universe intended for me all along. Because even though I have not always chosen the safest path, I really try to learn from my mistakes. I still sometimes jump too soon and fail to appreciate the consequences. But I've learned something important along the way: I've learned to heed the call of my heart. I've learned that the safest path is not always the best path and I've learned that the voice of fear is not always to be trusted.

Doing it all for love...

 

Watch me bring the fire...

There is a special essence about someone who is about to change your life, fated by the stars, like the universe planned it all along. Yet somehow these connections aren't always designed to stay, like a shooting star - magical yet fleeting. And then occasionally you will stumble upon people that will create moments of unutterable fulfilment which cannot be completely explained by these symbols called words. Their meanings can only be articulated by the inaudible language of the heart. So as I remembered some of these instances, like that day in his yard, leaping and catching the branch of the trees, I noticed however, that the emotions I am experiencing now, are something different still. They are not a wind, not even a high, exactly, but an elevation. A sense that I had gone beyond myself and could go farther still.

Just to feel the high...

Everyone talks about letting go like it's the easiest thing. 

Uncurl your fingers one by one until your hand is open. 

But his hand has been clenched into a fist for almost 4 years now; 

it's frozen shut.

But I was naive and didn't know better and someone should have told me to capture every second and every kiss and every night, because now I'm sitting here in an office I have come to despise and it's getting really hard to breath because tears are growing in my throat and they want to break out, but there are people watching and I just want to be somewhere silent somewhere still. But still I don't want to be alone because I'm scared and lonely and I don't understand, because I was alone my whole life, my whole life I was so damn lonely and I was content with that because I liked myself and my own company and I didn't need anyone, I thought. But then I met you and everything changed. So, someone should have told me that love is for those few brave who can handle the unbearable emptiness, the unbearable guilt and lack of oneself, because I lost myself to someone I love and I might get myself back one day but it will take time, a lot of time. I wish someone would have prepared me for this. Someone should have told me the truth.

Like a tidal wave...

Who owns my heart;

is it love or is it art?

And I can't tell if it's the beat or sparks;

is it love or is it art?

You know I wanna believe that we're a masterpiece,

but sometimes it's hard to tell in the dark;

who owns my heart?

Sipping on my last glass of wine...

Hold on, hold tight...

Breathe deep, take sight...

He has been finding treasures in places he did not want to search. He has been hearing wisdom from tongues he did not want to listen to. He has been finding beauty where he did not want to look. And he has learned so much from journeys he did not want to take. Forgive him, please. If you have it in your heart; for he has been closing his ears and eyes for too long. He has learned that miracles are only called miracles because they are often witnessed by only those who can can see through all of life's illusions. He is ready now, though. Ready to see what really exists on the other side, what exists behind the blinds, and taste all the ugly fruit instead of all that looks right, plump and ripe.