There is nothing to gain, nothing to lose. Nothing.

As the smell of oil and tar has soaked all realms,
God gave men free will, but they knew he was bluffing.
All men got was a heart as a battlefield for themselves.

All heart’s matters are individual, and therefore can be disputed,
and are private, and them staying that way is vital.

I am walking a marathon to the wall where I will be executed
on the black path of a repeating Radiohead vinyl.

In the naphthalene on your lungs, in your teapot filled with cold water,
in your cupboard behind the cups, in the endless line to your doctor,
in the smell of your favourite flowers and the dust of your favourite venue,
there is a lit candle bleeding wax on the poems I’ve never read you.

I like simplicity,
I adore routines,
So that I can predict what happens next,
So that it’s guaranteed.
Life doesn’t work that way,
The wheels of fate,
Bound and determined to make me afraid,
And ruin my plans.
I start to panic,
And go manic,
When things change from the normal.
I wish to disappear,
And return,
When things are back to normal.
It’s a habit,
Hard to break it,
But I’m working on it,
To not panic,
And go manic,
When the routine breaks in two.
It’s a journey,
With the ending,
Nowhere in sight.
I’ll keep trying,
And defying,
The odds,
To make things right.
Routine is my friend,
And my enemy,
Bound,
For eternity.

Ponto
Sinal
Frequente
Fixo, mas constante.
Em quê?
No fluxo de pessoas,
persistente no abrigo
de pessoas.

Às vezes, perigo,
mas constante na espera
do povo.

I feel most beautiful when my hair is haphazardly thrown into a French barrette, my pajamas are loose, and my scented lotion on.

I couldn't tell how much of my usual actions tonight of quickly twisting my hair, or picking which scent to wear, were influenced by my love for me or you.

I gently pulled the frontmost curls from the barrette and clasped on a delicate necklace in my vanity mirror. I selected the small, expensive bottle from my collection to melt into my hands, wrists, and clavicles.

I would never leave the house without this evening routine, and even though we're only crossing the street, I indulge in my reflection. It's the most I've loved myself all week.

I don't look to see if the lashes are perfectly parted, if the hair is tamed, if anything. I just take in my sights and scents,

and I secretly hope you do too.

Because all you need is
Practise
To help anybody.
See
Any
Good counsellor in action and really,
It's the same
Comforting words; same
Reassuring actions to beat the same
Game.
It's the routine stand-
Up-place-
Hand-
On-face-
Or- shoulder
To push the same boulder.
Validate the emotions. Talk
Them through walk
ing away
From whatever ruined their
Day.
Put in all your love and care;
Hold their hand; stroke their hair;
Tell them it'll all be fine;
Get them not to lose their mind;
Help them leave the past behind.
It's not a bad thing--
Isn't it reassuring
To have a one-fits-all
Solution? Fall
In and out
Of love; cry about
Exam results; your ex
Found their next
Too quickly;
Unhappy
Is all you can be--
Just go to anyone fit
And perhaps you'd come out
Even a tiny bit
Happier about life
Than you were
When you first arrived.

~
Unusual and cloudless

This slippery world

Today is still contagious

Here is heat, here is rain

Here is love, regardless

Shadows in the scaffolding

Look like a broken alphabet

The sun in its anger

Just won't set

Life and how to do it

Perfectly absent
~

Drastically decided to make getting up at 7 am my new routine.
Self-compassion made me agree on giving myself 7 days to reach this.
Self-compassion also stopped me from planning any further agreements so that I can focus on only one for now.
This feels not overwhelming for a change.
This feels like I am giving myself the time I deserve.
Thank you, self-compassion!

The pelican’s wings are so wide on the horizon,
He carries the sun on his back as if it were wind.

His big flat feet arch and land,
propped strong and confident on cool metal.

I see him around our little island,
A confident lone traveller.
Never have I seen someone so sure of themselves and their place.

He guzzles his fish, he splashes sapphire water down his feathers,
And every day he lands assuredly on his perch.

Maybe one day I will have my routine,
Land on my perch and enjoy my life.

Until then I’ll watch him,
A part of me burning for such simplicity,
The whole of me happy just to see him again.