We all have our burdens

To carry on
To leave behind

To know anything but knowledge

There can be a war in a mind
To be blind, when you could see

And rain does not fall down
But captures trees

Reason without reason
Truth without a single lie
More distant
It doesn’t really matter why.

I just wish it would
Make things easier.

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Hollow

How can autumn be full of leaves

When trees abandoned their little wings so

abruptly

And how can summer be with warmth,

When this thing, called the sun, is burning like hell

How can spring be so full of life,

When growth is blocked by predators,

How can winter not be so bleak

Grey skies, the endless cold

but it’s not winter

so it can’t be bleak

and yet here I am

full of emptiness

a complete filled void

 

The antidote

IMG_9240Once and maybe not even long ago
Not visible by day
At night only by who knows

They used to keep their heads up high
They used to fight the war that challenged them
They used to sell the truth for a lie.

Telling themselves that it was something to manage
Telling themselves that this was temporary
Not ignoring, but trying to calm the damage.

Roots filled with water
Outside of the shadow in the sun
but poison stays poison
where battle turned in to just begun

sometimes it does not really matter
if an end is a start
or a start an end

it’s where the unknown and the known
where meaning and the emptiness
are meant to blend

 

 

 

 

 

The fishbowl

Lately, I’m really terrible at writing. I just can’t. I’ve been out of internet for a little while at home. That doesn’t help much either. But when I sit and try to touch my keyboard, nothing comes. In my head I feel the soup of words spinning, but they stay there like they are in a fishbowl, you can stare at them and see them, but they can’t get out. That’s how it is.

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Fishbowl. I can’t even draw one, I know.

Life has been a bit empty somehow. I’m struggling with this emptiness, with this nothingness inside of me. Other people seem to experience this less – they don’t feel I’m empty, but for myself, I’m one big hollow fishbowl. You see right through it, because there is nothing. So there is nothing to understand.

I lost motivation at work (again, or maybe¬† I didn’t lose it-maybe it never went away). I just go to work and do what is necessary. I pay my bills. But it’s as hollow as it sounds.

My grandmother passed away. I can’t even say I feel sad about that. The past and history with all of that, created this superweird situation. No one really misses her, and that is superweird. Yet its superweird how things developed (or didn’t) through the years and all the things that happened created scars that never heal. It’s weird to talk bad about the dead, but at the same time, dead people can still influence. Good and bad. It’s so complicated that I don’t know how to feel about it, and trying to explain tires me so much it blocks every single word that wants to come out. Death is weird to me anyway. Sometimes you see it coming, but when it happens, it’s so , weird. Enough about that.

Lately I’m less comfortable in my studio. I live in a building with few other studios. Some neighbours are really noisy and a bit messy and that irritates me. And I miss an outside space. A seperate room. I can not even really welcome people, my house is small and it’s just (except the bathroom) one long space. I can’t hang things on the wall because the wall is so bad it falls off immediatly and when you bump it it immediatly has a scratch or a little hole. I don’t need a big house, but one seperate room would be so great. When you step into my house, you see everything- kitchen, my couch& bed in one (just two mattrasses that I fold every day).

I stopped going to Jiu Jitsu. I felt broken for a while, not able to go. Yet my motivation is nowhere to be found. I know it’s good for me, but I don’t progress, I am not so happy and funny as the others and I just don’t blend in. That is how I feel, and I still didn’t go. I haven’t practised for months now. And I don’t know what to do with it, but still being a member and paying doesn’t make sense, does it?

Love flew back to her home country. That means I’m home alone now. I’m happy she went to see her friends and family and that she is off.

Now I’m sitting here in this house, not sure what to do. It’s weekend, but I just sit, stare, wonder. I don’t act. There is no motivation in me to do anything. I don’t want to cook, eat, move, go anywhere, read, just nothing.

All I can be is the empty fishbowl.

 

When the sun goes down

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Sometimes,
or maybe just once,
all the colors of the world dissapear,
and you sink in to the deep
where there is no light

You sit on the bottom of the cave
and can’t fall deeper,
but can’t climb – you’re completely stuck

I don’t know what is worse,
but all I know is
that even if you’re on the bottom of the cave

and when the sun goes down
it does come up again
even if you can not bear the light.

The pebblestone in the desert

Honestly, I guess I have to admit I don’t have much ‘life’. It’s one of these days again that everything is empty and life seems an endless torture to me. I’m sad, empty and angry at the same time, and yet nothing at all.

Life is just not for everyone. To have a house, to lead a peaceful life, that’s just not for everyone. Like a pebblestone that needs water to bounce, I’m like a pebblestone that ended up in the desert. You just fall, and sink away in the sand: that’s me.

Somehow it’s a rough time again. Family issues, and the more I think about it, the more sick I feel. Emotional traps, nasty games, and even if I’m not super close, it affects me more then I would like to admit. And I feel so sorry for my parents, who are hugely affected by it. When I was younger I was angry at them so many times. And now I understand it better. Some things you just don’t see when you’re young. That they were trapped and part of an unfair, nasty game. I feel sorry for them that their lives are so destroyed and affected. It’s bad to say, but I hope they will be finally free when the person who does that and who is left, dies. That’s terrible to say I realize and know. Yet I’m afraid I think it would really be that way, though they will not ever be free from it: some damage is done forever.

Work was also pretty shitty, it gets worse. I can’t even find the words for it to describe what is going on. But I feel tension going up and up, I feel more pressure and I feel like I’m falling apart. I doubt about things I should not doubt, and I think I do my work less good.

I drag myself at home. I wait for the train, stare in the emptiness of the station, even when it’s full of people. I sit on the train, feeling braindead. I drag myself home; trying to slalom between cars and bikes and walking people who all seem to be in such a hurry and seem to rule the world, where’s there no space for empty people like me.

I hide myself in bed and when the night falls, I go out to the grocery store. Immediatly when you walk in, the neon signs and advertisements jump into your sights. I get superannoyed by that lately; it’s too much. With a task that’s not so difficult; get your groceries together but feels like running a survivalrun, I dissapear into the night again, trying to avoid every other living human being and try to get home as soon as I can, to crawl away in my cave again. I don’t want to face anyone or anything anymore, I just want to be left alone, and yet my heart aches so badly that I don’t know what to do about it. I feel awful, I’m not hungry and I don’t pick up my phone when someone calls.

All I am, is the pebblestone in the desert.

The face without the picture

 

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The winter tends to blow apart –
where autumn reminds the flowers to drop their leaves
it’s not the time, yet.

in the hallway, there is a bookcase,
dark brown, from wood,
old books, a vase, and a picture frame
where it should –

stand alone
or stand together
It’s a frameless frame for what it matters
And what you see is what you get

The life without the heart
A rain that doesn’t wet.