8.2020

A fox runs free in the fields of the airport, I observe the landscape from the window, the sunset turns the dry hay into a florid orange.

 All concerned to get somewhere, do I need a direction? where the fuck am I?

The guy next to me is fucking cute, but I don't know how to communicate. No one flirts with me, I guess I never learned.

I feel slim and quirky at the mirror.

But the water, 

the river is flowing, 

will wash your sins away, 

the moon will soon be high.

I wonder if the animal instinct of territorial domination is in modern society translated to feeling ideologically right. 

It became more important to be right then to make love. 

People don't understand that spirituality is a great gift. Religion is based on a delirium of the ego, thinking that us humans are so important, we would have a higher purpose then the rest, start to colonize the afterlife. On the opposite side, being cynical is a weakness, is giving up any effort in believing you can change things. My way of being spiritual is to believe that human beings are magical as long as they are participating to the magic of life,

of universe and the stars, 

of the rivers and the birds. 

Is very funny that people constantly talk about their bodies, although they focus just on how it looks or if they are identifiable in a skinny, fat, athletic category. what about feeling your lungs, your feet when they are holding your weight, your head unbalancing it. 

The attempt of domination continues; this city is expressing freedom but in the freedom everyone seems to become the new leader. I can feel the judgment, the non-inclusive energy. Fucking middle class privilege vanillas, they look you like they are so fantastic, big and glorious. The only glory they found is in being high dancing to machine sounds. Here in this lake I can't feel the sand, I just try to cool my body down, feel less warm.

This is not living, this is an attempt to survive.

Polluted air, is fresher in the pine forest,

Is safer on the fallen three,

Is consequential and moulded, is essential and colder. 

Is mirror of self, is projection of friends. 

Is overwhelming and pleasant, 

the feeling of the sand grains between my toes, 

The sun is different now, everything goes back to mildness. The stinging is part of a bigger picture.

Is in the mood for more. 

Marlboro red and maracujia cocktails, 

my body is exhausted, 

the addiction of this city is to reach the end line, 

be destroyed as the walls, 

be torn apart like their culture. 

The fury of the bull, she needs to pull the kids ears again, is a secret fetish of them, he feels finally sensitive, small and uncomfortable, he desires discomfort, he sees how intense our emotional life is but he is also not used to it and feels naked without his white bourgeois hipster shell. He let his brain become a computer, can articulate opinion just trough what he heard. fuck I hate bloodsuckers. 

He believes in politics more than God, his spirituality became conspiracy, the same feeling of loss, of being rejected from public opinion, is he a rebel or a kid who doesn't want to conform to the rules? I'm confused and overwhelmed, well he drove me to Ikea at least, we took all the possible shortcuts, to go straight to the point, avoiding the awkward moments projecting what a life together could look like, so is my sex life mum, commitment is the devil and I find ecstasy in a stranger. 

I ripped my heart into pieces and I would do it again,

Is not self-harm, is enjoyment in that silent peace,

That absence of steam, of pressure from between,

You'll understand there's a world of glorious opportunity in uncomfortable things.

The rain is pouring silently on the city,

The meditation begins, the concert of souls,

I sit up and listen, the multiplicity of drops composing a God. 

I wish the Giants could come back, bring justice to this game of clinical trials.

The itching greyness of the sky, the unpleasant warmth of my everything, the feet are swollen, I collapsed twice today, my body is reclaiming his space, I don't know what space he wants, I need him as he needs me, co-dependence moves my will in multiple directions.

He is a Gigante, the kind empathic way of seeing things, imperative is his aspect and yet he learned to feel more then the others, he learned, did he or it was an instinct? to know and feel the opposite of what people perceive you for, the thickly feeling of loving and pleasing. To everything, as you can see, we adapt and react, in the law of attraction, we tend to other poles to develop magnetism.

I walk through the night, the rain keeps reminding me I'm here, the nervous shooting stars on a lamp shade in the street, I start pretending to cry, letting the water be my tears, I strive for completeness and so will be my fear, my demon of possession, may love be my gear.

And he would talk about homosexuality as something he wouldn't try, something you can consume, when did this became a game? A game of words and escape, from your reality and the fears, you think you are going through something? Wait man! Wait the moment you'll fucking have to face your face, when you're looking at the mirror and the judgment is already clear, the detachment of self and I. Is in the moment of deepest fear that you should turn the valve of unknown.