If you knew just how much fear is within me, you wouldn't have dared to call me a dreamer.
You would tremble and fall to your feet and hear voices of overwelming passion in frequencies that you can only sense with your physical heart too and yet the greatest remedy they could give me was Do not be afraid.

But I get it. In such cases, I don't think you could phrase it in any other way.
I think the unspoken sounds within those words were the time it takes to understand the simplicity.

My efforts to see you seem... futile. An unattainable conundrum. And yet, as I stop to put words underneath your name, I see you clearer than I see myself because I, unlike my own encounters with myself, am untrue to my own being. Still, you’re..

Went down again..
Her presence hasn’t withered in my head but I feel exhausted to keep it alive in me. Sometimes, in days like this, I get dragged between poles and I feel less than helpless. Questioning if she’s even there and the need to not depend on her. In simple terms, Desperation and Fear. Even in different cities, they keep fueling one another and my grey thoughts seek an asylum elsewhere.

Morphs and misgivings
Left to myself with a self I can’t recognize any more, with answers that hold answers of questionings and not questions. How did I let myself become for you? A part of me wants to admit that you’re a way, the rest suspect I found a way , out. Blurred between destiny and escape, Are you real?

A curious one,
Longing for a strange hermit
in me?

Babe, it is far from a disguise, I hold
secrets that paralyze my feet from stepping into the land of mediocrity and yet
I can only allow your beautiful eyes to see me stuck in an average quicksand.
Yes, I can ask you the same question. Why do you want to stand in with me?
Do you call that a disguise?

I bare unholy truths that leave me bare to
words that can only make sense within my profound shallowness,
lives I haven’t lived playing like a broken record
whispering “you’ve been here”
as if my own regrets don’t tell me enough.

I’m still waiting, my love,
my melancholic anemoia.

Shocks absorbed
blows blocked
sights adjust
face locked.

Lightning strikes, on a cold day
warmth and coffee, word play.

Abstract math in simple shape
simple breath, paths today.

Cold bodies, seek for light
sick for songs of the heart.
Rhyming words, Unrhymed salt,
Spicy foods, throwing darts.

Wasted throws, counting bounds
blind passion; living doubts.
blind seeking, wander - lusts
aimless breath, wander counts.

*walks in to an ordinary telephone booth

From the vault

For the ones who understand long term relationships, this is not a hard concept to grasp. It’s within our genes, (by that I mean social conditioning and the sense of self and morals taught) to care more for the other “significant” by default. When you do so, you find yourself in a reality that you’ve managed to create of what you think your relationship is like and thereby in control of how it affects your life. You sometimes get so hooked in that reality that you forget what you’ve once considered “normal” would feel like. And after an unfortunate ending of that reality, you miserably fail to cope up with “normal” or “today”, suddenly you feel what a fifty year old man in a room full of millennials does. Not old, but confused. Not lost, but frozen. You suddenly have a heightened awareness of the possibilities that could create what you once considered to be “real”or “pair”. And most probably after time you might find yourself rooting against the idea of monogamy or want to spend your energy elsewhere….until the need to need someone wins over. Besides the crippling fear and loneliness most people would refuse to admit, meanings of a few elements of your life change along. Like stability, dependence, and most importantly, love. You’ve loved someone the same way for a while that that reality you’ve created has distorted and clinged on to the primal meaning of the word that could create situations where you forget how to love friends and family properly. Sometimes you love too much, most times too little when it matters the most, you never seem to understand what the so called enough amount is. Then you give up on love until you finally get the amount right which gives you bits hope. But you're not sure what the hope really is for. Maybe this is coming form an extroverted loner who has a lot to say about shady concepts or an optimistic young man who knows nothing but feels free of moral debt.

Oct.2020

What is you and I? We’re living in world where we learn and become, some trying to break free from what they know, some still have no clue, pressure turns to resistance turns to the same trap, and here I am, trying to share parts of me from parts of the world..nothing is there by mistake or because it looks nice. Starting to wonder again so I turn to what I know, since I don't know what I don't know, turns out...I've been bleeding and I was not alone.

2020

Here is my first collection. I don't know what to make of it, hope you don't question my sanity.
🫶🏽

More fragile than a napkin but stronger than the wind,
I stand in shame.
The balance reveals its beauty and the beauty revels flaws,
Shame fades into humility in the eyes of time.
I tried to explain what the weights on my shoulders were,
while I stood in the midst of a self-hatred singularity.
I sunk into myself.
...

Stuck high? Calm down. There is a lot to know about flying. 🤫
Listen on YouTube
https://youtu.be/diqDAkBA38I

When I told you we could talk forever you asked, in my head that is, to what end? The basics led to a place only you and I discovered, unable to ever trace back the road. Your name is nice. What does it mean? What if the idea of names never existed and we only had to look at each other to start conversing? Wait, don’t I know you? You! You!! How am I here again? How long have we been talking? No, this is …. Real?
How did you end up breaking the barrier? How did I tell you who I was and what I’m doing here so easily? How do I even know this? Have I always known? Would you have told me before? But how would you? I had made it easily difficult to listen; through no words. And yet, here I am questioning if it had ever been fate that shoved and pulled, broke and built and brought me here to you, to know my self.

We have the power to destroy lives.
We hold the power to change the course of history and time, push it into an abyss you and I can not phatom.
We hide our monsters chasing after angels, and seek comfort in their wings.

If love was a flower; we plunge it face first into the dirt of our own essence, spit on its roots and blame it for growing downwards.
If peace was a hot chick; we whistle the songs of our genitals, eyeball her until she feels ashamed to ever walk in our paths again and blame her because it's how she looks.
If trust was the ground; we fill balloons with the breaths of our deceit, tie them up with enough reasons to handcuff someone with no arms, tighten them around our waist until we float into a known nothingness because it's easier than accepting gravity.

Sometimes you just tell yourself things you want to hear to cope with things...
Not because you're running away, Not because you don't know the absolute truth of a confusing sadness or the saddest confusion, but you let yourself slip.
You tie your rope and leave for good knowing someday you'll run out of rope and you'd either stand still into desperation or cut loose in a land you should have never been in the first place.

Then you wake up and accept the present for what it is.
444

you never listened when you had to,
you got to see only when time took you
saw my mouth move, took me for a fool
is the curse mine or is the curse you?

- till what I said hits you a year later
(among other things like this being far from pride)

you think I'm not aware?
when I kept my lucifer at bay
you think I can't see you?
but never asked why I stay...
.
.
I play word play?
you play with souls. 😐

our quiet love sends me beyond universes, in to a world where I can break down at ease, at peace. A place where calm moonlight walks were beaten by depressing street lights glimmering the truths of sweaty hands and awkward feelings as we walked off our final days. Still wanna know why I never said goodbye?

I heard the devil was jealous of the individual who once told us we should hold hands and ought to know we were in love.
Sounds like a twitter screenshot right? I told you anyone can write.