After the storm

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Like the calmness preceeding the storm, I felt. But through the fog, through the strong wind....Iam still here, I survived. Somehow.

I can´t live like a flower.

I try not to be too nice. It never was useful to me. It always brought pain. But I can´t be anything else. I tried it, and it definitely doesn´t work, I don´t know how to, to begin with.

I wish to be a little more selfish, a little bit more self-protecting, a bit more aware of my surrondings, but my sight is limited to enlighted places. Or so it seems.

Iam not much prepared for it than years ago. Iam not. I can´t have other´s belongings. Not even as a gift.

Despite I give away my most precious things as a special present.

Where is that place for my own feelings that is not at sight? I keep forgetting it.

And I keep buying fruit. Nice and ripe fruit left to rotten on me.

But I still want to be myself, even if it hurts. It should, sometimes, right?

Maybe that´s why I wanted to change myself so much. Because I wanted to be one who doesn´t feel pain worthlessly. I wanted to search that part of myself which won´t hurt and be it.

But evolving is always a good thing. Sure it is.

I remembered the poems I can´t write anymore. I wrote one each time. And I lost them all, along with my feelings. Buried inside to be forgotten.

But, it is said that you can´t hide the dust under the carpet. And I did that so many times before.

"never lie again" You said. "Just never said to anyone again". And I tried. To be like you.

But Iam not that lucky. No, indeed. You are, and so you can throw the first and last stone.

And who would believe someone who never lies? and who believe someone who never cheats?

Such people I loved and admired. And still, such people can dissapoint. Such people can be nasty.

I never understood lack of coherency. I still don´t. And I leart that I can´t be understanding with just anything. I can´t. I wanted to have no limits in understanding but I do.

I talked to you, and reality slapped myself on the face. So strong. It put me down quite hard. And stand by myself. I know I can. I always could somehow.

Why it doesn´t hurt knowing my mind won´t have rest? Because I know you are still there. That I will be always here.

I really wanted to keep that. And now I know for sure I am scared.

That such bonds really do exist.

I feel better practicing than performing. Why is that? Again we agree.
The field of opportunities is so vast that I can´t barely be concious or start to build it but, Iam dying for it, I want to keep a rithm.

Because that´s what I want for the rest of my life. And unlikely my comfy bed, my white ceiling, and my sea, that would never change. I finally found it, sorry....

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