+ so it happened again,
kids returned HOME,
families gathered around the table at various times of the day
+ mothers bathed their offspring in CARE.
I might have run far.
I might have felt independent.
but everything I do always happens
IN RELATION TO WHERE I COME FROM.
there is no such thing
as emotional independence from my origins,
for as long as
MY SOUL IS INHABITING A HUMAN BODY.
“half of what I say is meaning less,
but I say it just to reach you…”
soothing words reaching over decades + countries.
“and just for a moment
I felt so high,
(and you know that)
it’s a long way down…”
grand-pas are cut open
+ sewed back together.
grand-mas call
to confirm it has happened.
babies are received
+ some are born
+ some have their third day breathing this world’s air.
instagram stories are being watched.
instagram story watchers are being SEEN.
messages are exchanged over distances impossible to grasp mentally.
+ CRUTCHES ARE SO FUCKING UNSTABLE,
like seriously?!
we were living in a small town with narrow, chaotic streets built of sandy stones.
our living was one of SIMPLICITY + EASE.
it was warm enough to sit outside in the late evening for the last cup of tea of a day filled with encounters, stories, laughter.
people were SINGING + DANCING, we among them – in love with each other + life.
I’m sure there were palm trees.
the air smelled of lavender, LOVE + connection.
the blue sky turned dark red in the evening.
life was FLUID + FULL.
+ other things I dreamt about last night
music: A QUOI TU REVES – by MURAT
accepting SUPPORT
= acknowledging the fact,
that none of us could function
without community.
in the weakest moments
it is surely that kind of humility
being taught to the human being.
Dear Elvis,
I really don’t understand,
how your stomach was handling all those painkillers
+ why you liked swallowing them.
no RECOGNITION OF THE SELF
/ the other people
/ the places
forgetting IDENTIFICATION
+ what it had felt like to be the self
the shell
a foreign thing
the difficulty of not giving in to that
+ identify with what isn’t real.
(no, I’m not going to stop writing + creating just because I look shit thanks to all the physical drama going on here, cause quite frankly, I would feel out of my integrity)
a HINT OF SPRING was entering the room.
through the tiny window
she caught a glimpse
of the early MORNING MOON.
her body was swollen,
her mind blurry,
from all the stuff thrown into her.
a state one can’t imagine getting out of,
no clear thought can be formed.
a place where deep sleep
actually means being
KNOCKED OUT by drugs
infused through your veins.
she hated the LOSS OF CONTROL over her body,
it was generally the only part of her life
she had any control over at all.
+ so she was confronted with her own STUBBORNNESS.
people entered + exited.
life was sometimes
difficult to understand
+ then again so SIMPLE.
LOVE was always present,
but sometimes felt absent.
+ she went from place to place,
leaving the very moment
she got ATTACHED
+ thus got used to letting go,
which didn’t necessarily become easier.
ARE YOU WITH ME?
could I have some of that freedom, please?
TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE
+ then let’s dance through mild summer nights, okay?
he kissed away her tears.
- OKAY.
change of scenery,
the curtains close/
the curtains open.
people are missing,
furniture has been exchanged.
so familiar + still so foreign.
ALL THAT YOU HAVE IS YOUR SOUL,
tracy chapman sang in the back of her head.
she tried to believe it,
cause otherwise her heart could have been broken over this change of curtains.
she went on stage and played her part,
what else was there to be done?
then actually yes,
she was quite shy,
in some ways.
don’t ask me why.
times shifted quickly
+ couldn’t be held onto.
MOMENTS PASSED
+ would never come back.
every look exchanged
is a ONE IN A LIFETIME
kind of situation.
then,
how to let go.
did you know, that – ?
IF ONLY I WOULD HAVE KNOWN.
+ other insecurities.
thrown off
HEAD OVER FEET
in the middle of my dreams
is WHERE WE MEET
unsung songs
are echoing
+
untold stories
are recognized
HI, MY NAME IS
how we meet again.
OH, all that flesh + warmth.
the full moon ROSE with such an immense power,
that she was emotionally brought down to her knees
by the overwhelming intensity
of all the confusion inside her.
what the fuck is happening here?
she thought,
+ then
gave in,
cause what else was there to do really?
+ so
she laughed, she cried,
she was a MESS
in all her humanity.
a little UNIVERSE was created.
it contained its own forms of communication.
when entered, it was all ABSORBING
+ made the rest of existence irrelevant.
they only left it, when they had to
+ would return quickly,
magnetically pulled back to the addictive consistency of it.
that kind of SPACE + time.
no need to answer questions.
THIS CAN’T BE IT
she thought many times
+ thus moved on to search further.
people were wondering:
when is that girl finally going to settle down?
+ MAYBE NEVER.
as much as she feared CHANGE,
she needed it to fuel her willingness to live.
+ if there was one thing,
she feared more than change,
it was COMMITMENT.
she was falling forth + back
between the two,
RISING somewhat in between.
music: CHANGE – by TRACY CHAPMAN
a song I keep coming back to again + again
what was
NOT TO BE FORESEEN
did happen still.
believe it / not:
it always will
hanging in the air
were TRACES of magic
as they were gliding
through the light
carried by GRACE
freed from all sorrow.
it was not about the words,
it was about the LOVE poured into them.
+ equally,
LOVE can be transmitted through the simplest action.
she found herself in a situation,
where all she could do to move on,
was shedding layer after layer
belonging to a past worn off long ago.
this time she was going to do this properly.
(so that)
once injuries were healed,
UNSHADOWED LIGHT was to be revealed.
and maybe wellbeing has more to do with rhythm than with anything else.
FLUIDITY settled in
as a state of BEING.
its constant shifts
the only permanent
REMAINING.
as all restrictions fell.
all the songs sung
all the poems written
standing still amidst the storm
STILL MOVED
in the rhythm
of heart beats
in SYNCHRONICITY.
most profound letting go
in SACRED SPACES.
OH DEAR.
it was like
+ just couldn’t
how had this
+ all the other stuff
WHO KNOWS?
i don’t.
all the confusion
all the illusion
amidst it all
we freely fall
fall, never land
fall to expand
expand to grow
+ LOVE will show.
LITTLE SISTER
hold me tight
let us whisper through the night.
LITTLE SISTER
the truth up on that shelf
I can’t grasp myself.
LITTLE SISTER
what I cannot see
please explain to me.
LITTLE SISTER
how this came to grow
I’m sure you’ll know.
LITTLE SISTER
I understand what’s true
when I am with you.
LITTLE SISTER
if only you knew
how much I do miss you.
it was clashing
LIFTING
overwhelming.
UNKNOWN why
but most definitely
supposed to be.
as all what is
in some way is.
she came to understand, that later on SHE WOULD KNOW WHY.
+ thus she let happen, what she couldn’t control.
she let herself clash,
be lifted,
overwhelmed.
she let herself not know.
language is a PLACE
/ rather
it is many places
of which one is
HOME.
it is my language
I COME HOME TO.
language creates the space I live in.
different languages bring forth
different traits of mine.
they PAINT THE SPACE around me.
I widen my vocabulary,
my personality
expands + refines.
music: BINI BI DIR - by Lo & Leduc
