Mamá

Ay mamá, mamita. Con tu pelo siempre igual, tu olor a perfume, los pies hinchados, las manchas en las manos. Mamita, tú, con tus ojos lindos, tus palabras amistosas a tus clientes, con tu sonrisa rota, tú mamita linda. No tienes ni idea de cuánto me mataste.

¿Por qué tu amor siempre vino tan difícil, tan filtrado, enredado, completamente destruído, transformado en algo que ya no era amor en lo absoluto?

Siempre ese amor del que tanto hablabas, del que sigues hablando, ese que me escupes en la cara cada vez que no te llamo, cada vez que me preocupo por ti y tú lo transformas en una guerra. Ese amor es el que duele tanto, el que me ha convertido en los mil pedazos de humano que soy el día de hoy.

Y ni sabes cuánto trato mamá, cuánto es que trato, de cuántas formas intento solucionarlo, encontrar un poco de calma. Es que tu amor siempre fue un océano de confusión pero no lo sabía, y ahora que conozco un amor más sano, me veo ahogada en este patrón viejo de filtrado. No quiero filtrar, y sigo tratando, pero a más intentos, peor se vuelve. Tal como haber nacido con el cordón enredado al cuello.

No quiero que mi vida gire en torno a tu desquicio, a tus palabras en voz alta cuando a mi me dolía tanto, a tu narcisismo disfrazado de una risa, de una broma, de una pena, de una víctima. En algún momento tienes que dejar de ser la víctima, o no. Tal vez no.

Mamá, por qué me pusiste aquí, donde tuve que escapar de tus garras para poder ser feliz, pero nunca lo voy a ser porque aunque ya no puedas amarrarme, me dejaste llena de heridas que no sé si podré sanar.

¿Mamá, algún días crees que me vas a amar, así de forma honesta, limpia?, ¿Mamá algún día te vas a cultivar?, ¿Crees que algún día podrás escucharme de verdad?

Mamá, te extraño, porque la verdad es que, nunca te conocí.

h o w

The bells were driving me crazy, then the loud bike that comes every night, so. fucking. late. But I looked outside and got a little breeze from the sky, it was a sign of how everything may work. Everything may work.

The four pots were part of it too, the leaves moved in happiness, and though I haven't discovered that secret yet, I'm finding things. We may never know how this will go on, when you are back home, I miss you, but I am ok, maybe too ok. And still, that doesn't take any of the love away, and that's exactly what I have to learn.

Wish me luck on this insane road.

You are WRONG. (14.07.2018)

You are inside this pit, you can see the light, you can hear real happiness from the outside, there's a staircase right by your side. Your logic knows how to get out, it knows how to live, how to be happy, but you can't feel your legs. Your emotions are holding you back, you can't get out.

You can't get out.

And all that time you spent building a tunnel with your hands, thinking you could find the light somehow, somewhere in the dark. All that time was wasted. And here you are, with your new little candle on, seeing the way out, and staying still, because now, even though you can't move, you have spent so much time listening to the outside that you have no energy left. You just feel depressed, unable to leave, envious of their happiness, trapped in your self-sabotaging mind, in your misery.
That is how wrong it is, how wrong I am.

Should I go deeper? I miss pouring my heart out into words so I will go back to that instead of all this... control.

Detach (17.07.2018)

I wish I could do it as before, but now I'm even more full of fears. I thought the demons would have shrank by now, instead they've developed muscles and knives, to fight me and you, and me.
The letter told me to keep on fighting, although there's not much to keep me awake, and this headache, poisonous water I breath every day.

I wish I had some answers, but I am supposed to wait, and though Brian says he understands, Heather keeps making mistakes. And how am I going to get through this?

The answer was simple on paper, not on my hands. It is slipping away as I slide through the mud and carry you too. My love is too tight to make you happy and the fear is more.

And so, we are all in this forrest, walking with no direction.

Little red riding hood. (21.02.2018)

I feel like the little red riding hood walking through this immense park,

almost a forest I'd say.

I'm just like the little red riding hood, but I'm not wearing a red hooded cape,

I have a brown hood and a dark red scarf at the most.

I'm just like little red riding hood, but I'm not visiting my grandma,

or taking a shortcut home, or going against my mother's advice.

I'm just like little red riding hood, but I'm not little anymore.

And anything can happen to me anyway, and I'm scared anyway, because I'm a -woman-.

I'm a gown-up, and I'm trying so hard to make a home out of this place, these challenges, these emotions.

But it's so unstable. It feels as if I were building a house at the edge of a cliff and everything is about to crumble, and I can only be watching, standing here, helpless, as all the effort falls into the depths of fear.

A N X I E T Y (18.01.2018)

My stomach clenched, although nothing had happened. It went up to my chest, faster and faster my heart was beating and I had to take a big, deep breath just to remain in place.

Nothing had happened.

I was still sitting on the partly empty train wagon, in front of the guy who stared, next to the pink-long-nailed girl absorbed in her phone, and the other few people also scrolling down. They were all, suddenly and slowly, turning into monsters, white-light-faced, clawed-scrolling monsters, with their sharp eyes and their fast judgement, all staring at me with their minds.

And my heart was tight, my lungs constrained, my stomach clasped, another big deep breath.
My head kept on reminding me how insane I was behaving, but no one could see it, so I closed my eyes, and one more big deep breath. The voice said next stop was mine, I hoped my legs could carry me out while thinking about hiding from the world and shutting down, not just for a while this time.

The train stopped, I stood up, focusing on each step so I wouldn't fall. Pushed the button to open the door hoping it would work, hoping I wouldn't fail at aiming, and got out paying extra attention to the gap between the train and the platform. One feet at the time, it was over. At last, it was over.
The station was also empty, but I had a bus to catch, went out the wrong way, of course, my hair was a mess with the wind, my scarf was flying away, everyone was laughing at me in secret, and loving me at the same time. I am no one, and everyone.

"They don't care, they don't care, they don't care", I said to myself persistently.
And that's the truth and you know, and they know, and I know. And I fucking know. But what's the reason for the big deep breath, again then?
Big deep breath, got on the bus, got everywhere on time, exactly as google maps said it would be. I walked down the street for 15 seconds and feared it was not the right street since I couldn't see the sign that said "Hostel" in those white squared letters. Despite the restaurant, the casino, the second restaurant, and the independent design cosmetic store that I've seen each one of the other thousand times I've walked that street, of course I was in the wrong street.
Big deep breath, one foot in front of the other, let's stay on track, let's stop thinking so much, let's stop feeling so much.

I was finally outside, all that was left was walk through the beautiful tunnel, turn right, and right again through the glass door, but my stomach was so tight. What if he's not there, what if this is not the right place, or if he's not happy to see me, or if he gets fired because of my visit, or if I fall down before going in, or if it's closed and he's gone already, I looked at my phone standing alone in the cold, dark street, "Asshole, you will get a cold. Just walk the fuck in, everything will be just fine. Nothing really bad can happen", what if my legs can't move me anymore.

Big deep breath.

I walked through the tunnel, turned right and saw the lights on, turned right again, opened the glass door, one last big deep breath and finally saw him, behind the desk giving the last late guest the information, keys and towels. He saw me and smiled, and my shoulders loosed up, my chest opened, my heart slowed down, my lungs widened and my stomach relaxed, no need for any other big deep breath. The guest left, we hugged and everything that I felt before was completely worth it just for that long, loving hug.

G U I L T Y (14.01.2018)

I was born, therefore I am guilty.

Isn't it like that? I'm doomed to this existence and it's all on me, I don't deserve any lasting good and that's why it scares me so much when anything is good enough to make me happy. That's why I create problems, pains and fears where there are none, I need to.

I am guilty of having emotions, and thoughts. That's what society says, how could we have created something so plastic with all the wonderful materials that surround us?

I am guilty of my mother's pain, since before being born. 
I am guilty of my flatmates annoyance, since before moving in. 
I am guilty of my friend's hurt, since before being friends. 
I'm guilty of my family's loneliness, since I moved out. 
And the only thing I'm not guilty of is his good feelings, but because I am guilty of existing, his broken heart must also be my fault.

And this guilt comes with an eternal weight of mending, and asking for forgiveness. I'm sorry for using the common areas and for not using them at all, I'm sorry for leaving, I'm sorry for staying, I'm sorry for not getting a job yet, and I'm sorry for getting it. I'm sorry for using the sidewalk, and the cycling lane, and the highway and the train. I'm sorry for sitting next to you, or her. I'm so sorry for drinking water, and seeing and breathing.

I'm so sorry for existing in your existence, excuse me please.

That's how easy it is, that's how painful it is. Just keep on and on taking care of other's pain and not letting anyone take care of mine, only myself, because I am guilty so only I have to carry my burden, as I carry everyone else's.

That's how stupid it is, to read it after feeling it and thinking how much of an asshole I can be, to myself. How can I even believe any of this? I must be just brainless, stupid, idiotic, lame, sad, anxious. I must have a problem and I need to go to a therapist because I wouldn't feel guilty for using them if I pay for it.

That shouldn't be the answer, but money always is in this existence that we're doomed to live, with you and him, and they and me.

One more day.

What is the secret? - What is the repeated situation? - Is this getting better? - What is it that I should do? - What is the secret?

Creativity, light, darkness.
Owl and wise.
Air.

Sometimes everything seems so clear, and others nothing makes sense and the shadows merge and twist. Sometimes there is no clue.

I have to travel, I need to sleep.

Beloved

There is the person you want to be, the way you want to feel, and the person you are, the way you feel.

It is good to have goals, to be self reflective, to know where you want to get to. But you also have to know who you are.

"To get anywhere you have to know where you are."

When the expectations are too high you have to take into account that your goal may be impossible and play with the idea until you are comfortable with just moving forward. And what can I say, who I want to be will probably never be who I am, or will be: My expectations are too high.
Yes sure, you all want to hear about "everything is possible" and all the stories of people who overcame all their issues and were happy forever, but not everything is possible.

"Not everything is possible."

There are things you can change about yourself, but there are things that come with you and with work, yes, they will change, but they may never be exactly as you want them to. And that is ok.


"Accepting yourself", that is stronger than we think. Accepting that we are sad, accepting the "stupid" reasons we are sad for, accepting ourselves as we accept others.

"It is okay to be sad, for any reason. It is okay to be."

Accept the way you feel, feel the way you feel, go deep into the sensation, ask yourself: "why?" not judging, but being fully open, fully honest. Admit the truth to yourself, feel it and cry it, then you can start to know where you stand, and only then you can move forward, at the pace you can.

Feel your feelings, don't go against them, they will hide deeper and they will get more confusing and unstable.

You are a boat trying to stay afloat in this ocean of emotions, and running from the storm will never lead you home. Go through the storm, feel your feelings, taste the waters, open your heart, let the wind and the rain help you unveil your own lies. Accept your truth, the one you have been hiding from your own self, and learn.

I promise it will start to get better as you find out where your boat is, where your heart is. Be patient, be acceptant of yourself, see your problems as someone else's if that helps, give compassion to yourself as you give it to your loved ones. See yourself as one of your loved ones.

Feel yourself as one of your loved ones. 

I am here for myself.

Mo

It's funny how sometimes we see mind and body as separate entities. One is living inside the other, but not really connected to each other, and then something happens and you realize that they are. Even though sometimes they don't match at all, they influence each other.

It is hard to get the balance, it is hard to make them equal, like yesterday at the airport. I know it is not so long, and that I will be fine. The first day is almost gone, just 19 more to go, and I have plans. And my mind knows that, but my heart was racing and tears were running through my eyes like the sudden rain through the sky, down to my head, and arms, and legs, and the ground.

I heard your last message and I felt the goodbye, as a death sentence. It hit my heart with the heaviness of a wrestler and the tears came again. I swear I am trying, I'm trying so hard to stay ok. To continue life as usual, but I mis you. Your beautiful blue eyes finding mine in the morning, covered by those infinite eyelashes you have, then your shaky voice saying "te quiero", and your warm hand on my chest that makes it all feel better. And as I am writing this I am feeling my heart beating just like yesterday at that airport, where I already knew how hard this would be. Because staying busy is not enough, because no one can take my mind and my heart to the places you do, no one feels so easy, no one calms me down and puts me to sleep with such peace.

And I know I'm strong, I know I can get through this, but you know I always think the worst and so far, since you are still alive, you will meet someone else and when we finally see each other again, you will just not love me anymore, because someone else will be there, using all your mind and all your heart, and then what.

This is the kind of thoughts I need to stop. That's what I have to change to be happy, or to stay calm. If we end up, so what.
I am a human by myself, I have been happy by myself, and so I can do that again. Despite how much I love you. Although sometimes it feels impossible to even imagine life without you, because when you turn into two, you expand your heart, your mind into another's, then everything is easy, you have a warm hand, you are accepted without judgement, you are told your mistakes with love, you fight with love, and we don't know that. We don't because that's how we have been raised, everything is a competition, everything is hostile, you have to fight and fight and fight and everyone will always be against you somehow, and so, when you find utopia inside someone else, after a lifetime of capitalism, it hurts to let go even for some time.

We will see each other very soon, it is going to be worth it all, and we will be even happier than we have been so far, everything will feel calm and sweet with your hug.

Just 20 days to go.

One closes to start another.

Life has changed so fast this past year that sometimes it feels like a lie. How can it be that that girl back in university was this same lost human in Berlin?

That's why I closed the old, but if there is one thing we have in common is that we both need to detox somewhere, so here it is:
For that girl, for this human, and for anyone who finds this.

No matter who you are, I hope you know we're all just pathetic little stomping shits just wishing to be love and be loved fully.