​There is this pause of anticipation and wondering between a question and it's answer.
Maybe this gap holds more magic than it's closure,because in that moment everything is still possible .Most answers have an anticlimactic character.

When I would film people’s  random gestures during a day in slow-motion and underscore it with music,it would seem like the most beautiful choreography.
Because often beauty is contained in the unintentional.

Why are birds most striking feature always their wings?Their ***** of locomotion
If you think about a human,the first thing on top of your mind aren’t  the  legs neither.
Maybe we think their main occupation is flying when in fact they are actual passion is daydreaming ….

Since I was a  child i hear echos in my head when I am alone and quiet  for long enough..and when most people would be trying to drown them out,I go even deeper into stillness.

You can bury an object or an idea,but the joy of unearthing them is similar.
I think the trick is to almost forget about them.

Did you know emotions have a Hz frequency chart?
Enlightenment being the highest and shame being the lowest.
You can only go in resonance with what is meant for you to grasp.

Maybe inspiration knocks on your door and waits for you to welcome it,but when you don’t,it continues its journey over rivers and through valleys until it finds a vessel through which it can be expressed.
Surely one should not ask for it because that means you have already lost it.

And she fell and fell down the hole..Hit the bottom and remained there
Darkness and depression surrounded her
She was too weak to move or speak
And so weeks turned into month turned into years
One day she opened her eyes and a slice of bread lay in her lap
Hesitant at first she nibbled it
The next day there were two slices and she ate them
Time passed until she felt strong enough stand up
Determined she climbed up the hole again
Above the ground she was flashed by the sudden brightness
The cerulean blue sky
The soft breeze
The birds singing mellifluous songs
The sweet scent of honeysuckle….
She was not used to it
But she found bliss in all these things
Years passed but one day
She returned to the entrance of the hole with a wheelbarrow of soil
And filled it up until it was no longer
So that nobody could ever go there

Lost hair-am bold soon,lost bone mass-fracture when I sneeze,lost friends-well..had no to begin with,lost muscle mass-cannot stand,lost ***** functions-they teamed up and decided to strike,lost years-twenty to be correct,lost the ability to chew-the jaw bone gave up,lost dreams- only nightmares remained,lost strength- not capable to move my head from the pillow,lost weight-it is the same as the weight of a puppy,lost  brain cells-obviously otherwise I would not pursue self destruction ,lost sleep-kept awake by hunger,,lost my period-so no little baby girl Hazel,almost lost life multiple times…lost the promise of a bright future.

Do not give me your love
Give me hope
For love would just bind me
But hope....it would render me fearless enough
to venture out

Bones piercing through bloodless skin
Bluish vessels winding their way....fueling my body
With what?
How to draw hope from the vacuum of my stomach?
But this is just the surface fire
Beyond are burning debris,
Coal black ashes lining the path to my broken soul

Is not the absence of somebody
But the presence of the true self
I am sick of playing a role i never auditioned for
Being subjected to judgemental eyes
Sometimes there are remnants of hope
To encounter the right person
Who could become a friend,a lover,a kindred spirit
But that desire is ephemeral
No,I must remain alone
Embrace the void,the vacant space,the stillness
For only here can i exist