hey, can we go back to that night again?
where we all sat on the beach watching the vast sky, talking like idiots and thinking about nothing but the stars above us. like we were sailors. because i like how you make me feel at that moment.

not that i feel uninspired. not that i feel this place is no longer useful. i’m just taking a break to gather things up. because the me right now is so scattered, garbled, like pieces of broken vase. everything seems to be all over the place.

so it’s like a transmission. or something like that.
i’ll be back.

probably.

when you let time flows like fuel burning through the engine nozzle, you barely feel nothing but the blazing energy of bursting forward like go go go. don’t loose track of what is coming, yet don’t let go of what you have felt. collect all these littlest pieces and put it in a jar. don’t lose it. let it be the source of your fuel.  when you feel too tired to keep running up the steep mountain when you barely get to the top, don’t stand still, lie down instead and smell the air, feel the oxygen filling slowly in your veins. i see nothing but the present. i remember one friend telling me that we are still young, as long as skin and bones are intact. we are getting younger. keep climbing. there’s an article about how you can fly an iphone with a weather balloon and see the amazingly dark space that is beyond our atmosphere. nature is friendly. if we treat them the right way.

when november ends. oh. when it ends it felt like the heat has lost and the earth been snowing all over, though these snowflakes are fake, i’ll be glad.

at times like this, i just wish i could go back to that place. that one cold and clammy night in dublin, where i would sit on a small bench under a street lamp. the light was so yellow it made my hands look orange. wearing my favourite long black coat, clutching my brown sling bag, i’ll sit quietly, watching my foggy breath dissolves into the darkness of the night. i was waiting for a moment to pass.

across the dark street, all i could see was a sparkle of everything.

____________________________

there it goes again.

have you ever had this heavy feeling in your chest  when your mind is somehow off track, when you don’t have any desire to speak or move, or the rich smell of coffee or a good book no longer makes you happy? all you want to do is close your eyes and sleep and wish that nobody gives a damn about you, because the process of being broken is so exhausting. you attempt your best to make your days fulfilling, but no matter how hard you try you can’t seem to connect to anyone or anything. if you had a choice you’d prefer to be numb, and not feeling anything at all if it means the aching would stop.

sometimes, just sometimes, i have no concrete idea of what am i waiting for. all i know is that i want to be and feel okay, and that is all that matters.

how innocently amusing can a child be.