Calling all the sweet ones, sweet ones. Calling all the wise ones, wise ones. "Did you hear that, little girl?" The sweet ones and the wise ones.
I really don’t wanna be in the arms of another. But, you see, he holds me, he touches me, he gives me what you don’t. So even if I don’t feel him, at least I feel myself. You care for me - you say. But your way of caring kills softly, drains my life drop by drop, keeping me in the distance, like a mannequin for display, while you touch others you don’t love. So, in order to feel alive, with the last threads of breath I’ve got, I let myself drift into the arms of another.
Meeting eye to eye with the Mother again. This time it struck me with a bittersweet blow that smashed every cell of my body, turning me into scattered pieces of rubbish.
Fitness, which should be all about health, right? and however in my experience, and as the observer and empath that I am, I have in my short journey encountered a world of ego. No surprise here, as it is directly linked with the dense realm, the physical world, the body.
Even I am scared of my own blog. The small act of picking up the pen and pouring down my feelings brings about buried emotions that once killed me with pain, the illusions and dreams that never were, this intense love that never goes away.
You had all the reasons to trust me blindly, however you chose to betray me, hurt me, break my spirit in irreparable ways. I had all the reasons not to trust you, however I chose to give you chances and love you unconditionally.