Arhiva | februarie, 2015

January, Month of Lust. February, Month of Dust.

1 feb.

If somebody stopped me on the street tomorrow and and asked me if I’m happy, I’d gladly laugh. Or ironically. Or sadly.

The thing with happiness is that you’re never quite sure how it’s going or, at least, how’s it supposed to be going. I somehow pity people that have a clear image of this notion. I mean, how are you supposed to live „happily ever after” in a story that’s not even close to your concept of euphoria and still claiming to be happy? No, that seems more wrong than right and doesn’t work for me.

When it came to running January over, I almost teared up. As fast as my days passed up to this point, they now take decades to. Have you ever gone a full 24 hour cycle and that day got you swearing that you’re never skipping sleep again, because the stars seemed not to want to leave at dawn? Have you ever tried to picture the world and your life without your safe-place? Have you ever thought you were happy when, in fact, you were more than that? infinitely more than that?

So much can happen during a day, a week, a month. But how much of it do we really pursue? Time is irreversible. All that we miss by choice we lose.

The sandstorm in my soul during January has often been misinterpreted as a tsunami. The emptiness always mistaken for the cold weather outside that took my warmth away. And my exhaustion barely resembled to my deep craving of affection. The fire in my eyes burns brighter than ever and , to be honest, I wouldn’t change a thing.

I’m happy, February. Please don’t take it away.