glass, mirrors

Help me.

Help me, because I can’t stand myself.

I love being me. I hate being me.

Life without me is possible.

Life without me is not possible.

Can you imagine a constant fight with your mind?

Can you imagine asking questions, hundreds, thousands of questions,

desperately trying to find answers, but there are no answers?

She lives in me. I feel her under my skin. Sometimes I run to my room 

and I close the door as fast as I can, but she always manages to come in. 

I stand very close to the wall, actually, my back is a part of it; 

but still I know she’s behind me, and if I only turned back I would see her laughing at me.

I have a ring made of black glass. I like glass. And I like black. Black mirrors are everywhere. 

But my soul is made of obsidian.

What can you see in the mirror which reflects another mirror? Our life is an illusion. 

Don’t try to get to the initial image; it isn’t there. 

What can I see in your eyes which reflect mine? We are an illusion.

I’ve always thought that the eyes of fear are wide open, but I was wrong. 

The fear always squints its eyes, the eyes as yellow as yours.

She wolf awakes from time to time. When it’s time to hunt, she bares her fangs.

storms, stars

Something is coming.
It's near.

It's something huge, a black immensity. I see two storms pushing against each other.
I see emptiness, I see space dust, I see everything spinning, going up and down.

I see myself in the middle of nowhere. Upside down.

I was seen dancing and I was thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.
I knew him and I didn't know him.
I talked to him and it there was someone else inside.
Who the hell was I looking at?
And what the hell was I looking for?

I'm not only thought to be insane.
I must be insane.
Everybody is mad here.

I understand him like I've never understood anyone.
And he knew everything about me the first time we talked.
So there must be something evil in my head.
He showed me that dark side of my soul.

I've got a war to fight.

shadows, creatures

So here I am again.

But this time with no doubts.

I’ve found someone special and I’ve experienced something important.

There is no more chaos.

There is no more pain.

I feel the Universe inside and it gives me power.

A few years ago I read a story written by one of those cat-people, 

a member of that strange category of humans who are nothing but shadows, creatures of night,

who don’t really exist, but you feel them even if you can’t touch them. 

That was a story of a demon boy who ate a star, and with it all of its years of solitude.

I’ve understood many things. Now I know you can’t go on if it takes your breath away.

You can’t be a slave. Nobody can tell you what to do. Nobody can tell you what to think.

You have to live on your own.

You have to fight alone.

Just as you’ll die. Alone.

We were just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl.

Now we’ve found each other in that hopeless place called Earth.

We don’t belong here. We’re nothing and we’re everything. We came from the stars. 

I’m a question and you’re an answer.

darkness, nothingness

‘I was always an unusual girl. My mother told me that I had a chameleon soul, 

no moral compass pointing me due north, no fixed personality.’

I belong to no one. I have nothing. And I want everything.

Sometimes I wish I had many lives. And sometimes I really believe it.

I’m on so many ways. Two steps forward, one step back, three steps left, and another step right.

Is there anybody in there?

But I keep going, it’s time to go, because once we were born, we can never stop.

And once we grew up, we can never come back.

I want to scream, I want to shout, I want to run round and round. 

And wanting me to change would be a great harm for me.

We’ve got a war to fight, regardless of what everybody says.

You should be glad you are not me.

I think too much. My mind never stops and causes me headaches. 

I don’t want to die. Never. I don’t want to be taken by that scary nothingness. 

It will be the end for all of my lives.

And my tears are like pearls, falling down and smashing up into pieces.

A flutter of my lashes causes an earthquake on the dark side of the moon.

My senses are sharpened. I can see in the dark. 

Landing softly on my four legs, with a single leap, I move to the other side.

Fire, walk with me.

* And the Earth, you’ll see, the Earth won’t be the Earth, it won’t hold you.

* And the Water, you’ll see, the Water won’t be the Water, it won’t cool you.

* And the Wind, you’ll see, the Wind won’t be the Wind, it won’t calm you.

* And the Fire, you’ll see, the Fire won’t be the Fire, you won’t wade through it.

And when she stops loving you, you’ll see the Night in a middle of a day, 

and a black sky instead of stars. 

You’ll see everything what I have seen.

underwater

A woman.

'He fell in love. 
No,  heard it was the sea he fell in love with.

Same story, different versions. And all are true. See, it was a woman as changing and harsh and untamable as the sea. He never stopped loving her. But the pain it caused was too much to live with, but not enough ti cause him to die.'

The Sea can’t be quiet.

Every time I look into its dim abyss, I feel its power.

I feel a cold wind on my face, drops of salt water on my lips, damp hair sticking to my forehead. 

I am a pirate. Only a pirate knows and is able to take a risk. Only a pirate can appreciate this dangerous beauty.

And I saw frothed waves and I felt them crashing me. I saw lightnings and I heard peals. 

I saw a whirlpool but I kept walking. I took a deep breath and I dived. 

Sea’s roar turned into buzzing. I blinked a few times and I saw it.

I saw the underwater world.

I saw mermaids, beautiful and frightening at the same time. I saw tritons armed with tridents and selkies with their seal’s tails.

I saw sandy floor and a palace of white marble. I saw slow movements of fishtails. I looked at my feet and there was a flipper. I looked at my hands and I saw webbed fingers. 

I swallowed water and I felt it passing through my gills.

And I stuck out of the water in my bath.

I was lucky at least once more. As always. 

far away

I need sun.

I’m a Leo. I’m a creature of light and warmth. I’m full of energy, I’m full of passion.

I think we are determined by the time we were born.  Stars’ constellations make us being us. We are Cosmos. We are reflection of the  universe. A man can imagine things, but he always relies on things he already knows. A man can name things, but always using words which already exist. If we saw something unknown, we could only describe it by comparing it to something known.

It’s sad.

We’ve got potential. We can do everything. Impossible is nothing, it only takes more time. We are humans, we are living, we are feeling, we are thinking. Isn’t it enough to know we are powerful?

I am strong and I need sun. I like ambers and I am proud. I am a woman of love and faith. I am an idea.

Sometimes I feel like being far away from my body. I leave it because it’s too heavy to take it with me. Sometimes I hear buzzing in my ears and I see fog. Everybody and everything moves in slow motion.

I hear sounds but I don’t care.

I see faces and I forget them.

I am far away.

ageless, timeless

A few days ago, when I was in the garden and I was looking through the looking-glass, I found something interesting in the bush. 

It was a clock, and old-fashioned one, on a long, gold chain. It was broken. It didn’t show the right time because it was slow. 

At first, I decided to keep it. I liked its shape and colour. But then I became sad;
what if for someone it was very important, and its owner couldn’t find it? 

I woke up and I took a walk in search of the White Rabbit. I found him behind the seventh tree.
He promised me to ask the Caterpillar about the lost, and he ran away in leaps and bounds,
as always late. I took a few more steps and I saw a tail levitating in the air. I pulled it, but the Cheshire Cat didn’t know anything either, and after a while he disappeared. 

I was tired. I sat down by a rose bush and I saw its petals withering, dying and falling down. 
And I realized that the clock is slow only for us, that we have an illusory impression that we still have enough time, but we don’t. 

So Alice, please, leave your Mirror and start living immediately. 
Don’t be your own reflection. 
Make yourself real. 

A few days ago died a friend of mine. Tomorrow takes place his funeral.
I won't go. It makes me extremely sad.

Because, dear reader, I have my own world. I live in a soap bubble.
I can't be hurt. And you know what? All my life I've been avoiding sorrow.

And it works.