The inside out. #2018

Standard

d00c510d67bc2388633574c3c742ca5e
The shore was still there, buried inside my hidden dreams, unwilling to come up to the surface. It’s been so long since I haven’t dreamed of it that it would almost extinct. It was my deepest and guiding wish but I made a memory of it instead of pushing it’s realization. I did not forget about it. The perseverance was gone for a while.
I woke up thinking of it today. Who have I become. Reality caught too much space in my life and I let the dream go. Foolishness.
The shore was my life and the only thing keeping me alive. Alive by the full meaning of the word. That shall resurrect me. How can I end up on that shore if that is not the goal?
How do we get intimidated by small things and forget about the major goal? I don’t get fascinated by this side of humans. We get caught up in situations, place ourselves with the mass, fill our time with superficial habits and become mediocre. We become average and the sum of our being is kept captive by tolerable days and decisions. The sad thing is not realizing it on time.
What is the right time though? It’s now. It’s that one morning when you wake up and remember the exceptional thing you wanted to be.
Let’s bring up to the surface the shore, the goals, persuasion and excellence. After one year, let’s make it all about the first days, the shivering beginning, the kisses, the long nights, the one and only goal. The shore.
Advertisements

Question marks.

Standard

Close to the shore, where the tiny waves hit the dry sand, I found a seashell that whispered to my ear your name. I fell in love once again. I used to find the way of someone turning into ruins that many would admire without knowledge of history quite exciting; but in moments of tiredness, the excitement goes away. The pain turns into disturbing anger and the person that once was your beloved, inspires a kind of disgust. I strongly believe that feeling is more painful than the pain of a lost love. The way you see a person changes; the emotions are stripped of their purity. In a way, this theory may seem a bit absurd or driven, but it cannot be worse than living with the sentiment of guilt; the last coming as a consequence of the person’s inability or thought of inability to give someone else what they need. Perhaps, you have given your best and tried for more; if the person beside you doesn’t want to receive or doesn’t give you the chance to prove yourself; then it is simply not your fault.
In the middle of the day, I discovered that the physical exhaustion was just an excuse for my doubtful thoughts. My soul was tired, on the edge of giving up. Would I be blamed if I did so? The pain of a lost love I would tolerate more than the loss of respect towards myself. But what if I’m wrong?