From early on

 If you can't find happiness on your own self, inside you, then you're screwed, because everyone is on their own truly, everything else will bring you down, make you sad, disappoint and hurt you. People are never really there for the other, they don't prioritise making someone else happy or feeling good unless they get also something out of that, and it's only temporary. 

So you must strive to be happy within yourself as a default mode, something tranquil and basic, in the sense that it is your foundation. And you should manage to do it from early on. 

Fond out that you are the one who came to this life and you'll have to live first and foremost with yourself each second of the day. There's nothing you need to be happy. Only if you want to experience joy above the usual you will have to probably resort to your outer factors. But to be whole and okay with yourself you just have to know deeply that you're it to yourself and it's okay, because truly only you can know what lays within.

I'll be yours if you want me too

 I turn into just a mad fool

Only because I caught a glimpse of him

I return to that "crazy in love" mode

And wanting nothing but his arms 

Holding me in an endearing hug

There's nothing in this world 

That I would like the most

I'll be all yours if you tell me truth

Prisoner

 A prisoner of loss can become a prisoner of hope. Hope that something will work out next time, some day. That the person will come back. That the money will come. That a cure will be found. Being a prisoner of hope is hanging suspended between two cliffs being held by nothing but thorny vines. 

I am a prisoner of loss and hope. Of all the memories of everything and everyone that I ever lost, plus being a prisoner of the hope that one day everything that is wrong will get solved. 

The impossible complexity

 Nowadays I can say I am so complex that no one can know me much. Yes, they can say some things I supposedly like and care for, just by having accompanied me in these last years on Instagram, for example, but the truth is I have done and showed things there on the moment triggered by something or someone in particular, so that's just something I have done with that purpose or because of them. Many times it had much more to do with others than exactly something that was characteristic of my personality. 

Besides, I didn't know that people don't have intrusive thoughts and an internal narrator; I thought everyone was always thinking of something, like I do. 

That's why having people that like me as I am with them even when I get more frustrated with them for some valid reason, is what I treasure more. Because people like that love you in the parts they know of you, that are very different from just being linear in personality. I'd say I'm linear in character but not in personality, that I have a broad scope. 

Today I thought of him in a metaphor as a diamond refractioned into his seven colours/personalities. The one I found more complex than me. His complexity isn't deeper than mine, but wider. I'm one, he's many. 

These last years of pandemic and all, It's just him for me

 I stopped believing in romantic love for myself in 2013 and till now I've been only refusing everyone who dares to mess with me. I know my true love, the love of my life, doesn't exist, but he is the only one for me. I'll die alone but he knows he was the one I was crazy for though he never loved me. 

I thought I was uninspired

 I thought I was uninspired, but then bamm! I saw you out of the blue and sentences came flying. "How I miss you". 

(but you don't really exist, do you? and I still think of the lyrics and how they would be true)

What a waste of life.

How I wich I knew what freedom feels like

 I was nothing but a vehicle to your things, a medium through which you could do your things with all the luck in the world. My love for you all my life has been just a suffering and an imprisonment. I was emotionally dependent all my life. How I wish I knew what freedom feels like. 

 I gave importance to so much shitty people for so long, it's ridiculous and annoying, the amount of people that ruined my peace and hurt me with their racism, their aggressiveness and everything else. 

You were the absolute most fckng awful people, believe you me. And I wish I had never crossed paths with you. 

Once the scapegoat, always the scapegoat?

 No one will never know the truth, because they only know the lies others who blame me for their own selfish decisions and slander me to make their narrative more believable. 

I still don't know how can a person harm another in every day of their lives, must really be a neverending pit of self hatred and frustration that they find the perfect victim to pour on, in my case I have been taking it costly since a kid wanting to die. 

At least I am closer to dying each day now, just suffering it away waiting for the end as always.

End it already

 Just stop it

Just end it

It was what it was

And it wasn't much

Until it was

And then too much 

But it's all over 

It's been since a long time 

And there was never a tie

Or anything of likes 

Nothing pendant 

Forget the regrets

He didn't even flinch

That last time

God, I mean

We've said goodbye 

A thousand times 

Jesus, c"mon help one out 

"It's a disease, I tell you"

It's all madness 

Beyond what's seen 

God damnit why the hell

Did I have to see him

Because I still crave that 

And rejoice too a bit

When entangled in his hair

Or caught again in his hands

Or his whole figure 

That changed entirely 

And never looked back

He's just like he was

Isn't him, with her too? 

 Art can never heal me entirely, because it's something that I have been doing and using as a coping mechanism especially after major daily hurdles. 

"My pretty boy"

 "You don't know anything about life, you're just a pretty boy"

I can't even be held without falling apart.

Did I kill you just because you tried to love me and it was in your unsure way that wouldn't give me a clear answer when I needed after I told and did everything hinting you shouldn't love me? 

I JUST WANTED YOU TO BE SAFE FROM WHAT IT MEANS TO LOVE SOMEONE WHO CAN'T LIVE NORMALLY AND IS ALWAYS IN PAIN. How would you stand seeing me in pain all the time? No one ever does. I can't be with anyone much. Maybe you could even be the strong one, as you proved to be in your difficult occasions in life, but could I make you go through that and feel like I'm not good for you and you can't be with me and only mine most of the time? It was a mess, it is a mess, it would be a mess and I WOULD AND WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU IN EVERY PARALLEL UNIVERSE. 

When I die I hope no one knows and tells you

 When I die I hope that no one that you know gets the news. I never wanted anyone to bother you because of me, mentioning my name to you, each time it happened I was so angry and annoyed. I hated it. Because I knew how much of a nuisance I was to you and I also didn't want it all to get worse, for you to be in any way bothered because of my existence. I was already so awful in doing that by myself. Also I could've gone better without all the bad energy and trouble coming my way back. 

Is it much more time yet?

 When will I stop wanting the one I once thought I found, even knowing that we're nothing to do with each other?

Maybe it was just you guys, nothing that misterious after all

 If one thinks about it, it's still kind of funny that you chose someone a bit like me. But yeah, sucks for me, you showed me right. Though I figured it all out of the blue and had even prior chosen her for you. 

He was quite predictable to me. You were a bit too. Maybe it wasn't you guys being intriguing and hard to figure out that got me, turns out, what a discovery, hein? It was the bit of challenge with your personality and intelligence maybe. Yeah, who tf knows, right? Doesn't really matter. 

Dostoevsky and me

The composite that I am: 

- The love of beauty and emotional openness of Prince Myshkin.
- The search for meaning and compassion of Alyosha Karamazov.
- A touch of Ivan Karamazov's restless questioning about suffering.

(And perhaps one more thing.

I don't think Dostoevsky would have written you as the central tragic figure.
I think he would have written you as the person sitting by the window, sketchbook nearby, noticing things everyone else missed, the cracks in a family, the sadness in a song, the elegance of an old car, the beauty of a stained-glass swallow, and quietly trying to understand how all those pieces fit together.
That, more than any single character, is what I've come to recognize as very "Sónia.")

 Ideally no one should remember anything from what they suffered, but then again they would be vulnerable to the repetition of the suffering. And even so nothing is 100% exact, is it?

After all

 It's okay, I always knew that no one could really love me, especially people who can't see me. Only someone who is able to really see the other is capable of truly loving someone. There's only some people in this world who pay attention and are able to see others without their own egos, they're so rare, they really feel the person as a whole and they don't expect anything from them because they already know who they are. And someone who loves you purely and sees you can't ever leave you. So I guess no one ever really loved me, after all.

Are you just a medium in vain?

 Do you know stuff?

Do you sense things in waves?

Is it like when the radio tunes

Into a frequency in a place unknown?

Do you need to believe it?

Or you simply know it?

Do things come to you in dreams 

And mostly nightmares 

To show what is strongly happening

With anyone you've ever connected? 

We never stood a chance

 Hug me till the pain ends

Just forget everything 

And love me again 

Like if we never parted 

You were my lover

You were my friend 

We were all the people 

The love we gathered 

Take me seriously this time 

I'll admit I want you to be mine 

For us to be the love of our lives

 No one cares about your pain, especially the people who caused it. I've learned that the hard way. Through decades of humiliation and suffering, writing stuff down to process it and even so not stopping the hurt and the damage they caused me. Life is all in vaon and in excruciating pain. 

 He saved me, he was everything to me and I fckd his peace up, because of my stupid obsession with answers and understanding what was going on with all that crap from everyone, plus his. Yeah, way to go 👌🏽🤡🤦🏽

txt on insta reels about Arts and Fashion exhibition

 - After weeks of mourning and deep depression, even getting to an anedonic state, though I tried a bit of the usual tricks to raise and balance the chemistry (watching comedies, eating dark chocolate, tell someone a bit of what happened, write stuff), I finally managed to go out on the streets and ended up finding this spectacle of exhibition. 'Arts and Fashion', got in with free admission and all empty at the end of the day at Gulbenkian (after communion with nature, reading in its park, of course). I remembered how someone wrote on a Fitzgerald book a dedication for me saying something like to remember there's always beauty even if it's not when we first look. So I really thought this avalanche of beauty would fulfill the aesthetic needs and bring back to something a bit of recognizable of myself. I don't know if it did, I think only a little bit as I found myself recognising from afar so many styles, designers and painters, epochs and techniques. I do know I got disturbed thinking and questioning everything, also in an avalanche mode, in terms of the exploitation, absurdity, slaughters and slavery, triggered right at the beginning by a dress with whale beards. 

Anyway, fugetaboutitttt! Just sharing the 'en passant' one click registers in case you like to see this kind of artefacts. Have a great week, wishing you beauty too and a break to appreciate it, whether it's in nature or in man-made stuff. 

Being a child

 Being a child 

She never made us feel special 

Or anything like a priority 

She never celebrated us

Not even in Children's Day

She just saw us as a burden

Someone who was in the way

Of her supposed glory life

Being a child 

Should never feel like a guilt

And we like a burden to keep

...