Door

Now this is the final touch.
This is where
the door shuts.
Because it doesn't matter
whether it's open
or closed
or locked.
since nobody would care
to try its handle.

England

So i went to england to visit my sister and it was a particularly unique experience.
I had some time to explore Oxford, the Brookes university, and meet some interesting people.
And a very particularly interesting person too.
I had to leave some of my stuff there though, as i came back only with a hand luggage.
It feels weird now that i have something of my own there, it's like an unfinished business.
The thing is that it'll probably never be finished, just as how some people storm in our lives, and leave a trail, even if they're gone in a breath. A very, very short one.
I guess it's like leaving a part of you somewhere, never to be taken back.
It feels weird, but it feels good.
Leaving parts of you somewhere is better than trying to put them together all the time - it's tiring.

k.

Am I interesting or plain?
I don't know how i came up with such a question. I guess it's that i've been sitting on the coach, thinking about anything for a little while now.
I guess most people want a drama-free life. That's why maybe most people won't choose me over anybody else with a less distinctive habit of mood swings. I wish my personality was not so sombre so often, because it's so much easier not to have that sense of finality when something bad happens, as life is about constant change. Nothing, literally, nothing persists through time and it's so much easier to just be able to let go - not to let my mind linger on the past too much.
I intelectually always could understand this, but I never felt it.
Now I do.

we never really realize

We never fully realize
what we’ve lost
until some time
has passed
for us to use
the future as concrete facts
and some loneliness
has last
a little.
We never fully realize
that love is what we see
in our minds
and we grasp tightly
to what we hold dear.
I never fully realized
that your hands
could give me that
warmness
of which I have been
unremarkably deprived
and your eyes
that once I haven’t loved back
I would love now.

K. .

Lifedance

A believer

A believer,
A believer stops believing
when there’s nothing left for him,
and he grows inside of him a tumor
of hopelessness and desolation.
A believer
that had stopped believing
eventually will turn back to his faith
for faith is stronger than experience.
But when an atheist cries out “God”
you know this is a paradox
born out of utter desperation
desperation that would persist,
for it needs much hopelessness to cry out
to someone you don’t believe to exist,
but that you believe is your last
and only
chance to be heard.