In this world, it's just us...

He will not let his fire go out. Ignited by an irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swamps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. He will not let the hero in his soul perish in lonely frustration for the life he deserved and has never been able to reach. The world he desires can be won. It exists. It is real. It is possible. It's his.

I will love you always. When we are both grey and without hair, I will still love you. When the smooth softness of youth is replaced by the delicate softness of age, I will still want to touch your skin. When your face is full of the lines of every smile you have ever smiled, of every surprise I have seen flash through your eyes, when every tear you have ever cried has left its mark upon your face, I will treasure you all the more, because I was there to see it all. I will share your life with you, and I will love you until the last breath leaves your body or mine.

I'll show you that I am...

Break down, only alone I will cry on out.

you'll never see what's hiding out,

hiding out deep down.

I know, I've heard that to let your feelings go,

is the only way to make friendships grow.

But I'm too afraid now,

I'm so powerful,

I'm invincible,

I'm unstoppable.

I just need not to panic...

All the lights down low...

The truth is a funny concept, because there's actually no real definition. It means different things to different people, and what of those instances where the truth is something only one person can actually know. The truths we carry deep inside us that no one cat attest to or question, yet if we lie no one can prove otherwise. What I'm trying to say is that I've been struggling with the truth quite a bit recently. What is mine to share, to keep, to unravel and to deny. And what happens when I start explaining my lies with another lie? Do they cancel each other out or multiply? And most importantly of all, if the lie effects a truth only I could know, is it even a lie? Is it even something I should be ashamed of?

There's no need to cry for me

Every time he was broken, he had to grow again a bit more to join back her broken pieces. In the end, what entered his life exactly fitted into the space that was created because of all his growth and healing till now. He didn't understand whether what he received came to him because he had created the space that was exactly necessary for it. Or he created that space inside himself because something in him always knew what would be arriving for him in his life. But in the end, everything made sense, and it was all worth it.

I ain't ready to die yet...

But these scars no longer I hide...

Does it burn

knowing I used all the pain?

Does it hurt

knowing you're fuel to my flame?

Don't look back,

don't need your regrets,

thank the universe you left me behind,

couldn't change me if you tried.

A revolution in my head...

The pain is where faith is born...

Sometimes, what we need the most is the strength to survive in this world. Which forces us to pay, to watch the demons destroy the paradise we built and dance on its ruins. And when it happened, his heart burst like the stars do in the end, and he fell on his knees. But the whole world looked at him in awe. He lit the whole universe with his fire for the briefest of moments. In the end, he was as beautiful as the stardust falling from the sky and his heart didn't ache anymore.

I have found that it's really not that complicated when you come to the gist of it. I am merely the stories and incidents that I never tell anyone. I am the thoughts that I get while standing under the shower, utterly alone and with no one to cling to. I am those memories that won't let me sleep at night peacefully. I am all those words that I will never say out loud or write down on a piece of paper. I am those scars that I always hide from everyone. I am all my little secrets that I will never let the world know about. I am everything that I hide under these very real green eyes. 

More life in the arsenal...

We deny more than we confess. We hide more than we reveal. We assume because it makes us feel exposed if we have to ask. It's easier to say "I feel nothing" than to admit "I feel something." It takes no courage to say, "I hate you" but it takes a great deal of moxie to declare its opposite. Masks are elaborate and everyone has one. It takes a while to get to know people. This doesn't make them special, it makes them like everyone else. Sometimes our hearts scream yes while our heads say run; and only one can be obeyed.

Another shot to pull off the impossible...

In my zone, eyes on the throne...

There's no need to cry for me,

I'm a fighter.

You can't take my voice from me,

I will rise up.

So what are you waiting for?

I ain't ready to die yet.

The pain is where faith is born,

are you alive yet?

I will rise up...

My sweet little lies...

As I sat here in utter darkness, while most of the world was still asleep, I wondered for how long I could keep up this deception. If anything is clear, is that I didn't really think all of this through. There is simply no way I can keep up this ruse. And with each passing moment it becomes clearer that I will have to bravely face the consequences of my decision. It seemed so perfect at the time, though. Like the universe was lining up circumstances exactly in my favor. I guess the lesson here is humility. To have disbelief in your trajectory, and never get blinded by the promise of a happy ending. Or perhaps the truth goes beyond that. Maybe I needed to be stripped down, as so many times before, to leave room for my newest iteration. So here I stand, devoid of ego and expectations, I give myself to you. Do with me as you will.

 

I got my head out the sunroof...

I know. It's all wrong. By rights I probably won't be here tomorrow. But if by the slimmest chance I were, it would be like in the great stories. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the resolution be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, I do understand. I know now. Heroes in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.

Something stronger that I'm used to...

This period is like being carried through life by a strong current. 

All he feels is the speed of the river, the thrill of rapids, 

never comprehending his utter lack of control, his constant peril.

Perhaps if I embrace the notion that I am already dust, long gone, already outside time and looking in, reviewing life, understanding every déja vu, I can finally be my own guardian angel. The knowledge that the scorched-black demons and the pristine, fluttering seraphs are in some sense naught but me myself unpacked, unfolded in a higher space, fill me with a sense of ease. As the myriad universe unfurls, it uncovers the bygone legends, who are in fact my once and future selves, that attribute to my blossoming into my purest and most potent forms. And these, with all their beast-heats, crowns and lightings, all their different colors, could possibly combine into one single revelation that is godlike. That is all.