Everything is temporary.
But as long as I live I will face the pain.
Sometimes I feel like I became the monster that I had to deal with all of my life.

I’m stuck again in noise and can’t do what I need to do.
I have to “accept” it.
Over and over.

Sometimes when I finally go outside and I look at the crowd I wonder:
What are we even doing?

All these themes, trends, events, things we do.
Some people are just going about their days.
Moment to moment.

For some it takes effort.
To get there.
Nothing is easy, nothing is “normal”.
But then again “normal is a perception”.

So it “natural”.
But things just don’t come natural to me.
Even though it makes sense in the end.

Most of the time I understand.
The balance that is created.
By forcing me to be stuck.

I came back to the willow tree after the amputation of the branch that was split in a square.
I thought it would be thankful that I filed for it to be cut off by the authorities who could.
I thought the tree would embrace me again.

Cause we both had to let go of things.
I thought it understood.
But I felt resentment when I came to see the tree.
It didn’t embrace me.
In fact, it didn’t even want to acknowledge me there.

Did I do the wrong thing?
I don’t think so because I read about rotting when dead branches keep hanging.
I feel that rotting every day inside of me.
I hold onto thoughts and coping too much.
And I have to try to bend or break them somehow.  

Some are most difficult to break completely.
So maybe it fell forced for the tree as well.
But I think the letting go was necessary and the tree should understand that too.

Trees like that are wise enough, you’d think.
But today I realized something different.
It was probably the way I came along this time.

I didn’t come humble.
I came with a feeling that I did something good.
And maybe that was not the best way because I should also have recognized the pain of the tree.
And I did in a way, but maybe I moved too fast towards the letting go.
Maybe I should have come with care.

With tenderness, empathy and understanding.
I shouldn’t have smiled like everything was fine. Cause I should probably know too well that it’s not just fine just because it has to happen.
It’s not easy to let go.
It takes time and great pain.

And I should have been more thoughtful about that.
So next time I see the tree, I would see the pain and hopefully then it will embrace me like it used to.
Because we both understand that life comes with letting go but that does not mean that it’s easy.
And it feels forced sometimes.
Unnatural.
This world feels unnatural to me too.
Whatever natural may be.
It feels forced.
Forced upon me.

But maybe it’s what I need.
I will need it to move on.
But when?
And why?
I’m not sure.
That makes it extra hard to trust in the process. But that’s all I can do.

I got no other choice in a matter.
I’m not happy about my impatience.
I wish I could just close my eyes and take a long time.
Drink my beer in meditation with small sips.

I try.
It’s the best I can do in this moment.
Just trying to take it really slow.
Some things can wait.
And somethings keep trying to alert me.

And sometimes when I find peace in waiting, then there’s also distracting noise.
Always something.
To do, to deal with.
Or not to deal with if I could only let go.

I’m still surprised by what the people in my dreams do to me.
This is all in my head?
I do wonder.
Am I wandering around in a different world when I sleep?
Cause the people in my dream still surprise me.
Does that mean that I do not know my own head?
I think it’s more, I think I’m wandering.
And the people in my dreams are the people that I need.
And sometimes, many times, I don’t even recognize them.
And it’s just a little thing that’s making me feel like I’m at home.
Just a little feeling.
Just a little smell.
Just a little thing they do.
And it’s surprises me when I wake.
Cause I remember.
They did so much to me by doing so little.
It was so real.
They just feel real and they feel like I belong there.
They feel like I’m home.

Nothing is ideal in this world.
Be that mess and own it!

Find some peace within you that you can cling to.

Want nothing.
Wanting something only causes stress.

Nothing is ideal in this world.
Be that mess, nothing to lose.

But the distractions, discomfort and the trials are there to disrupt everything.
Everything is a lot.

You can’t expect anything.
Anything’s possible.

But nothing is ideal.
Be that mess, don’t find comfort.

Find patience.
Patience gives you time.

Sometimes it takes too long.
The winner takes everything and you can’t win.

But you also can’t lose.
Because you can’t lose everything.

Everything is too much.
You have to start all over again.

And you can do that sometimes but how many times?
At what cost?
Nothing costs nothing.

But nothing is ideal.
Be that mess and own it!

You solve one thing and you mess up another, overwhelmed and hypersensitive.
Pressure from activity.

Pressure on me so I mess up things again.
The rain keeps falling.
And I keep messing around.

I am the stormy weather.
I try to blow dry.
But it takes forever and then I just blow off steam.
And it all keeps going on and on.
Things are wrong, things are too much.

It’s slippery.
It’s runny.
It’s a lot of pressure.
And somehow I find a way to dance in the rain at least one moment.
But after that I drop in a puddle.
And I have to crawl out and find a way home.
So I can close my eyes so I can dry up a little bit.
So I can be somewhat ok again.

But it keeps happening and it keeps raining.
And I can’t fly.
The rain is too heavy.
So I drop and mess it up.
The task.
One after another.
One thing solved and another failing.

I am falling and crawling.
And I can’t get out of this cycle, this puddle.

So I spread my arms and lie there for a while.
Until I’m able to get up again.
Start all over.
When it’s raining all over my body, heavy, steamy, slippery.
Breathe in and out.
Heavy stuff.
Heavy rain.

I feel so guilty.
So lost and needy.
I try real hard, but sometimes I am the pain.
Even though it’s the last thing I want.
Why am I like this?
Must be a really good reason.
For this to be caused.
By this lifetime.
I am so sorry.
The last person to deserve it is receiving the call for help.
The one that holds all the horror and the suffering, please please help‼️

And yet that person is the one to answer.
Is the one that helps.
Life in this world can be so cruel.
It is unfair.
Makes me want to leave because it’s better if I make that sacrifice if I can’t change.
But I know it’s also not helping if I leave, they don’t want me to leave.
But it also needs to stop so I need to stop.
Stop this suffering. 😭

She’s ready for a new chapter.
But is the new chapter ready for her?
She’s punk again as expected.
The cuts are holes for light to shine, from the lightning and thunder inside.

The plasters are lovers covering the wounds.
The Avocado for comfort and health.
The only way in which she takes care.
The rest is filled with beer and pain au chocolat.

For the pain, the discomfort, uncertainties.
The chains.
The chains remain.
The brain and tying ends together, pressure.
She’s getting ready.
Always getting ready.
But is she ever?

At least for the new chapter, the moment, she tries.
But it doesn’t feel right.
A little better after getting it together, over and over.
She’s never done.