For me it happens all the time...

It was like when you make a move in chess and just as you take your finger off the piece, you see the mistake you've made, and there's this panic because you don't know yet the scale of disaster you've left yourself open to. And more often than not, when something like that happens, I have a strange, instinctual desire for things to get even worse. I think of a terrible outcome and then wish for it. I recognise the pattern, but I don't understand it. It's as though my mind is running simulations and can't help but prefer the most dramatic option - as though, in that eventuality, I could enjoy it from the outside.

Something just for my dreams...

One thing was certain: life was a maze. There was nothing straight forward about it. Everything that pretended to be consecutive somehow ended in unexpected twists and turns, only to leave you full of wonder at how you possibly made it through to the end. You couldn't just pack a pair of hedge trimmers to take a shortcut and hoodwink fate. No, you had to walk the path of life given to you with all its detours. The goal wasn't to avoid getting lost sometimes - in fact, that was most unlikely given that you were in a maze. The trick was simply to keep walking. To enjoy the process of getting lost and finding yourself again, different and more grown-up than when you had left. One step after another, that was all that it took. One step after another, so simple and so utterly enough.

Easy come, easy go...

Every try, every breakthrough and every cry...

He won't always spoil you, or treat you like a prince. He won't tell you you're the love of his life every single day. He won't make you smile every night - heck - a lot of nights he will make you cry. And he won't always want you the way he wants you now. That fades. Those giddy little stomach flutters wane with time and you're then left with reality. There will be day's he will forget to tell you he thinks you're amazing, even though you will need to hear it. 

There will be days both of you will say "I love you" and there will be days you'll forget a birthday or an anniversary. There will be a time when you will walk past each other and you won't want to ravish one another, the way you do now. Those things slowly whisk away, and when they do, what's left is what's truly worth fighting for. Love isn't always beautiful, mostly it's not even close to being perfect half the time. Feelings keep changing, the spark dies down and what you're left with is something you either chose to uphold or you don't. When you know that even though those things are gone, you're still willing to commit to every breath, then you know the love is real.

As I'm sharing, I rewrite my story...

Oh, never forget me,

like I'm your favourite song.

I'm fading, replaying,

these thoughts I thought while sinking down.

Oh, never forget me,

and evеrything I've done.

Giving me shivers...

Glitter in the sky...

Life is indeed a race, 

but there is no finish line.

You're done, when you're done.

I believe, if there is some sort of higher power, the universe is it, and whenever people ask me where it came from, I tell them that it has always been here, and was never created. The Big Bang theory is based on the fact that the universe is expanding right now. And if you rewind the tape, the universe appears to be shrinking. If you rewind the tape far enough, eventually the universe must be just one singular point. Or so the theory goes. But what if the universe has not always been expanding? What if it's pulsating, and one pulse takes trillions of years, and right now the universe is inhaling, and before that, trillions of years ago, it was exhaling?

I had a premonition...

That's what I want...

To the extent you identify and honor your true path in this lifetime, you will know genuine satisfaction. Real peace in your own skin. You will be infused with vitality and a clarified focus. New pathways of possibility appear, where before there were obstacles. You will know a peace that will buffer you against the madness of the world. A clarity, a direction, that will carry you from one satisfaction to another. Life will still have its challenges, but you will interface with them differently. Coded in an authenticity of purpose, that sees through the veils, to what really matters. To the extent that you avoid the quest for purpose, you will live frustrated. A half-life.

Well aware of what this could mean...

Not sure the pressure is off,

I'm not sure, when the pressure gives up.

It's just the same old shit I've been fighting,

stuck in my head,

I’m tired of lying.

Fair trade...

The way he figured, everyone gets at least one miracle in their lifetime. Like, he will probably never be struck by lightening, or win a Nobel Prize, or become the ruler of the world, or spontaneously combust. But if you consider all the unlikely things together, at least one of them will probably happen to each of us. He could have seen it rain frogs. He could have stepped foot on Mars. He could have been eaten by a whale. He could have married a prince or survived months at sea. But, here he is, hoping for something far less elaborate. His ultimate miracle was different. Something as simple as starting a family of his own.

One day, the strain...

Just when I thought I had banished it forever ... there it was, a flash out of nowhere. That gnaw in my stomach, deepening my pit of discontent. As I look around, think about the life I have already lived and what still awaits me, I am engulfed by dread and anxiety. I have not done enough, and it seems I either lack resolve for my goals, or the world shoves its inequality down my throat. How can I ever hope to achieve all my hearts desires, with so many lurking choices, possibilities to fail and opportunities to succumb to the mundane? And on top of all that, be there and support the ones I choose to love?

The beginning of universal displacement I always experience as a swell lurching up from unseen depths, similar to the physical sensation of standing waist-high in the sea when there are no waves but all of a sudden the great body of water heaves itself up as if the planet has shifted a fraction on its axis. That was the signal for me that the nature of reality was about to terrifyingly change. Then, suddenly, time stops: past, present and future exist as a single overwhelming force. And that is the truly horrid thing. I am subsumed. Buried, as beneath an avalanche, by the weight of simultaneous events.

We need one another...

I cannot escape and I cannot forget...

I let you take control...

Simply put, he was the one who had to put up with me. With my whims, mood swings, annoying habits, intensity of being and overall melancholy that seems to be unusual even for the most severe of loners. That he does so with love and patience and encouragement, with a smile on his face and unrelenting resolve in his eyes, instead of strangling me, throwing my remains into a wood chipper, and then pretending he had never been intertwined with me at all is a testament to the fact that he is, in fact, the single best person I know.

Writing myself a letter...

When I flash back to the lovely days of September,

where I've kept some dreams and stories to remember.

Something like old streets and avenues to wander,

something like my toys when I was younger.

I have a fond belief that September will stay forever,

there were many things in September, sweet and tender.

Something like love, something like adventure,

Something like childhood, something like the rain, 

like the water.