Taming my universe
I am pissed. And I've been trying to calm my self down for a while
now. The thought that in a few hours, I'll be having one of my escapes again is
quite effective in making my bones still.
I love what I am
becoming now. I love how I found (or how I’m on the process of finding) my old thoughts again – thoughts that have
been buried by frustrations and disappointments and failure and noise, so much
noise, and people, and hate, and the
everyday self loathe.
I am still the same though. But less agitated. More in control of
the universe full of black holes spinning inside me. It will always be inside
me. It will never go away. Because it is me. Though sometimes it still takes
over, I have learned to patiently tame my universe, constantly feeding the
black holes so that they wouldn’t suck me in. We hold each other together. We
coexist. If one of us dies, the other will be hollow. Void of meaning, of
purpose. We must keep coexisting.
Unusual meeting of unusual people
Maybe it was by design that I met someone who I could share my
thoughts to, who could get me – my obsessions, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts,
beliefs, obsessions, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts. Maybe he was the catalyst.
Maybe he was there at that moment to pull me back to myself. And he doesn’t
know it.
I could talk about anything without moderating and adjusting to anything
like what I always did. Because there’s no feeling of alienation or being
judged. There’s no pressure of conforming – I was never a fan of it. My
weirdness interests him. And his weirdness interests me. Conversations. Conversations I wish I could record so that I
could listen to it again. Our minds meet, I think. Our minds meet. And it’s
healthy. And it’s rare. And I want to keep it that way. When we talk, my mind
goes places. My imagination spreads towards mythical ends. I get this feeling
of longing to make something. Create something. A longing to know more about
things. I feel like the free spirit in me is being awakened and I want it to
lead me to high unreal skies, delusions, madness. The kind of madness that I
was looking for.
But nothing romantic in a love story context, it’s the attraction
of minds – so alike, but so different. This will continue, and this will go
better. This will go better. And this so unfamiliar optimism. (So
contagious.)
Unconventional self expression
Because of the positive feeling I have gained towards my self, and
knowing that certain people don’t mind if I am this way, and a severe longing
to detach myself from people, who are not worth my attention and time, I find
no problem dressing in a way that people
do not expect me to. But there was never a feeling or urge to blend in the
first place. (The wanting to be invisible and unnoticed is ironic though, especially
when I’m wearing clothes an ideal girl of my age wouldn't wear. Of course people
will look, or stare. But I learned not to care.)
Sometimes I would go to one of my escapes dressed like a circus
gypsy. But I don’t mind. And the feeling is invigorating. The feeling that you
did something that you want to do through wearing what you want to wear with no
rules or restrictions.
Rebuilding my universe in cafes and escapes
I dared myself to discover new places where I could find solace in
times I feel disturbed. Or places where I can think better, and feel better.
Lately, I came to an old café I always stayed at around three
years ago. It felt like I renewed a relationship with an old friend. Later I
think I’d go to this café this artist guy introduced me to. The people there
are nice. And it has grown into me. I feel like part me is there already, which
always pulls me back to meet its whole.
(Of course I won’t disclose the names and where they are.)
I know I have lots to do. And I’ll do it. It’s a long process. But
I found someone who, I know, could help, would help, and wants to help me build
it. ( I would like to think of it that way.)
I don’t know how, but I’ll get there. I’ll let the stars do their thing for now.
I am pissed. And I've been trying to calm my self down for a while now. The thought that in a few hours, I'll be having one of my escapes again is quite effective in making my bones still.
I love what I am becoming now. I love how I found (or how I’m on the process of finding) my old thoughts again – thoughts that have been buried by frustrations and disappointments and failure and noise, so much noise, and people, and hate, and the everyday self loathe.
I am still the same though. But less agitated. More in control of the universe full of black holes spinning inside me. It will always be inside me. It will never go away. Because it is me. Though sometimes it still takes over, I have learned to patiently tame my universe, constantly feeding the black holes so that they wouldn’t suck me in. We hold each other together. We coexist. If one of us dies, the other will be hollow. Void of meaning, of purpose. We must keep coexisting.
Unusual meeting of unusual people
Maybe it was by design that I met someone who I could share my thoughts to, who could get me – my obsessions, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts, beliefs, obsessions, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts. Maybe he was the catalyst. Maybe he was there at that moment to pull me back to myself. And he doesn’t know it.
I could talk about anything without moderating and adjusting to anything like what I always did. Because there’s no feeling of alienation or being judged. There’s no pressure of conforming – I was never a fan of it. My weirdness interests him. And his weirdness interests me. Conversations. Conversations I wish I could record so that I could listen to it again. Our minds meet, I think. Our minds meet. And it’s healthy. And it’s rare. And I want to keep it that way. When we talk, my mind goes places. My imagination spreads towards mythical ends. I get this feeling of longing to make something. Create something. A longing to know more about things. I feel like the free spirit in me is being awakened and I want it to lead me to high unreal skies, delusions, madness. The kind of madness that I was looking for.
But nothing romantic in a love story context, it’s the attraction of minds – so alike, but so different. This will continue, and this will go better. This will go better. And this so unfamiliar optimism. (So contagious.)
Unconventional self expression
Because of the positive feeling I have gained towards my self, and knowing that certain people don’t mind if I am this way, and a severe longing to detach myself from people, who are not worth my attention and time, I find no problem dressing in a way that people do not expect me to. But there was never a feeling or urge to blend in the first place. (The wanting to be invisible and unnoticed is ironic though, especially when I’m wearing clothes an ideal girl of my age wouldn't wear. Of course people will look, or stare. But I learned not to care.)
Sometimes I would go to one of my escapes dressed like a circus gypsy. But I don’t mind. And the feeling is invigorating. The feeling that you did something that you want to do through wearing what you want to wear with no rules or restrictions.
Rebuilding my universe in cafes and escapes
I dared myself to discover new places where I could find solace in times I feel disturbed. Or places where I can think better, and feel better.
Lately, I came to an old café I always stayed at around three years ago. It felt like I renewed a relationship with an old friend. Later I think I’d go to this café this artist guy introduced me to. The people there are nice. And it has grown into me. I feel like part me is there already, which always pulls me back to meet its whole.
(Of course I won’t disclose the names and where they are.)
I know I have lots to do. And I’ll do it. It’s a long process. But I found someone who, I know, could help, would help, and wants to help me build it. ( I would like to think of it that way.)
I don’t know how, but I’ll get there. I’ll let the stars do their thing for now.
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