I can’t
REMEMBER
the exact features
of your face.
BUT
I remember
the feeling
of your presence.
how many minds
have I crossed
YESTERDAY.
all the stories
I’ve been part
OF + OF WHICH
I don’t know,
WHERE ELSE
they went.
I mean,
that’s massive,
ISN’T IT.
.
music: Teenage Dirtbag
(cover)
by Jax
.
THE GRIEF
of seeing myself
back then + knowing
I was never to be
that person there
AGAIN.
hit me hard.
LIFE
won’t ever
feel exactly
ALIKE again.
LETTING
go + moving on.
LETTING
go + moving on.
LETTING
go + moving on.
.
music: Free as a Bird
by Bumi Thomas
.
it’s OK,
if you don’t
understand.
SOMETIMES
I don’t either.
the level of
CONSCIOUSNESS
when transitioning
from one place
to the next one
CAN MAKE
all the difference
to the experience
of the place itself.
it was all laid out.
ready to be done.
the moment
of REALISING,
that she
had to be
THE ONE
believing in
WHATEVER
she did.
like WOW.
it’s OK,
if you don’t
understand.
.
music: Do I Wanna Know?
(cover)
by Daley
.
I FELT JUDGED
for all I am.
MAYBE
it came from
myself.
maybe
YOU WERE
actually judging.
HOWEVER,
it wasn’t helpful.
could we
do less of that.
THANK YOU.
it is hard to not
have been there
while I changed
.
+ STILL accept
a different version
of me now.
if we could all
ALLOW EACH OTHER
to keep
changing + evolving
the outer layers.
cause isn’t that
WHAT LIFE MEANS.
.
temporary womb tattoo
by cyclic designer Nora Jongen
.
music: Organs
by Pussy Riot
.
the universe
ALIGNED
IN ORDER
for us to meet.
.
WORDS
reached out to
where they had to,
changing worlds
ACCORDINGLY.
.
thoughts were
matching + humans
DID THE SAME.
.
we were
EVERYWHERE
but here.
when we were
THOUGH,
magic happened.
.
where
have YOU
gone now.
WHERE
have you gone.
.
music: Here Without You
(Acoustic Cover)
by Dave Winkler
.
THEY kept
checking out
each other’s
profile picture.
what a
SURREAL
phenomenon.
LIFE-FORCE.
the force which
makes me live.
I had
FOR GOTTEN
(for) what
it was
made (of).
.
music: Online
by Lo & Leduc
.
UNHELD amidst
unrelated scenes.
the fatigue of
no ground to walk
ON STEADILY.
the disassociation
from all places
inhabited in the past.
.
+ WE
kept floating
in non-existent
SPACES.
UNSURE of
where / whether
we did belong.
SO WHAT.
YES, what.
.
music: Heartache
On The Dancefloor
by Jon Pardi
.
love
is to be
ACCESSED WITHIN
oneself + expanded
from there.
RATHER THAN
to be found / to be
found by.
SURE,
it is easier
to recognise
its presence
through other people
/ recognise oneself
REFLECTED in others
– which is almost
THE SAME.
what is love for,
if not for sharing.
in whatever form
sharing comes.
#sharingiscaring .
HOW DO WE
apply this now.
.
music: What's Love
Got to Do with It
by Lera Lynn
.
PEOPLE
entering + exiting
reality.
glimpses of stories,
of lives, of narratives.
PARTICIPATION
on the mere surface.
a constant letting go
of what can’t be kept.
+ FROM THERE:
returning home to myself.
EMPTY HANDS,
a body full of memories
belonging to the past.
the eventual
emotional overwhelm
that comes with
HUMAN EXISTENCE.
.
music: Beautiful People
by Melanie
.
LIFE
making sense.
waking up
to the senses.
CULTIVATING
sensitivity.
sensing
the forgotten.
HYPERSENSITIVITY.
is common sense
really a thing.
LIFE
making sense.
the ability to fully give,
which puts one in a state
of UNIVERSAL LOVE
for the light
reflected in
ALL PEOPLE.
.
music: Universal Love
by Enrique Pedroza
.
time
STOOD STILL
in a moment
of ENDLESS
connection.
strangers
FELT HOME
to each other.
HE
watched her
walk away + dis
-APPEAR
into the busyness
of the streets
with a hint of
MELANCHOLIA
reflected
in the depth of
his blue eyes.
KNOWING
he might never
see her again.
.
music: You’re Beautiful
by John Adams
.
looking at my life
I saw all the places
where my
BOUNDARIES
were not where
they should be.
.
+ I SAW,
it was me
who had to
put them
back in place.
.
RADIANCE
changed + other
things happened,
TOO.
.
I MISS
the person
I was,
when I was
in LOVE.
.
+ WOW.
how many years
it took me
to delete
those pictures.
INSANITY.
.
trauma
can be an
ACCUMULATION
of events
taking place.
let’s call it
event-ual
TRAUMA.
.
music: Walk into the Club
by Alaska Thunderfuck
.
the sky cleared
UP + SO
did my mind.
what is yet
to happen
BETWEEN US.
I asked life.
OH, WELL.
we shall see.
.
for once
I LISTENED
with attention
to the transition
from one state
into the next one.
.
music: Mon Piano Rouge
by Patricia Kaas
.
I LOST IT.
everything
FELL
into pieces
I couldn’t
recognise / put
back into their
right place.
MY PHYSICAL
REALM
was teaching
me a lesson
I didn’t get.
I SUPPOSE.
that + other
DELIRIOUS
thoughts.
.
music: Fall To Pieces
by Ria Mae
.
do not give up
on me.
SHE
told him silently.
would he
have listened to
HIS HEART,
HE
could have
heard it.
DESPITE
the distance.
.
CAN I PAY.
I asked the waiter
with a weak smile.
he looked at me
in disbelief + goes
WHY.
you know what,
FRANCESCO.
you really made
my (SUN) day
right there.
.
music: Look Around
by Elise Davis
.
I looked myself
in the eye +
couldn’t see
WHERE I ENDED.
does one end
ANYWHERE.
the sun rose
before me,
after I’d given up.
all aspects of life
FELT INEXISTENT.
maybe in reality
they were so.
sur FACES
reflected what was
standing on them.
.
+ other faces
did the same.
until there was
a face BOOK.
.
music
by Woody Roseland
.
SURE,
sometimes I’m
out of my integrity.
POSSIBLY
I need that
to know,
WHAT
being in integrity
means for me.
.
hey,
ARE YOU STILL
there.
AM I STILL
here.
ARE WE STILL
doing this.
.
+ OTHER STORIES
of humanness.
.
music: Bitch
by Tristan DARIEN
.
not letting go
OF WASTE
results in potential
RE-ABSORPTION
into the system.
physically
speaking.
how does that
TRANSLATE INTO
my emotional state.
my SANITY.
where have I
re-absorbed
what I should
have
LET GO OF.
global stagnation
IS A THING.
.
music: Realease Me
by Sophia Longo
.
IF trauma is
handed down
over generations,
ALL OF YOU.
how do we
deal with this.
WHAT
does it mean for
the energetic spaces
we’re SHARING.
.
I also don’t know
what I’m doing,
TBH.
YET I keep doing
the things that I do.
isn’t that valid.
FOLLOWING A PATH
of which you can’t see
where it leads you
might just be
the most powerful thing
you ever did.
.
+ if not, SO WHAT.
.
music: All of Me
by Henrietta Adewole
.
