The landscape is my body
every breath released from the darkness
calms the night inside of me
my dog is chasing chickens
falling asleep when my eyes are open
for the story of us begins when the night was dark
when all was silent and lost
our journey began in the wombs of empty streets
gathered dust pieces, collected tales of the world
my grandma always said that family doesn’t need a reason to love one and other
she said this silently, with a smile
and a glass of wine in her hands. Sitting patiently for the words caressed by love, she taught me a lot
my grandma
I wished she could see how the road shaped me but wishing is for fools, I did that more times than I wished I had. And secretly I know that my grandma knows for she still speaks to grandpa and grandpa definitely tells her the secrets the wind gave me. I remember how they were my parents, how I began to flourish under their laughter. Understanding that home is just a place where you feel home. Comfortable times sit in the backyard of your memories, I strolled around enough time to get lost. Drinking from the marrow of my bones. I lived in two worlds. It was time to choose, I chose forgetfulness, I chose hope. That one day I would live in the fairytale of embracing myself. I dreamed about that day when all my cares would float down my shoulders and if fear should capture me it was only the fragrance of fear because on that day I would have lived it until it became part of me. Shoulders are not to cry on. Bridges are not to understand the possibility of crossing, my mind had a language and I would understand it. Feelings came forth and the dancing began. To dance with demons, one only needs courage and a stout heart.
I was not afraid to surrender myself. My arms I placed into the river of life and when my feet were trying to stand on the river bend, my arms were sifting the tides, finding the language of my mind. My first journey was to find the answers where love begins. A journey into darkness and small trickles of hope. I knew I had to follow, doubt my every move, only to blend with courage, finding that, if they blend, you easily dismay all your plans and then life grants you the shift of tides. The stranger in the night who will bring you what you need to become yourself. I remembered the dancing in front of the whole population of my high school. I blended then with my broken soul who wanted to be understood. Through my dancing, inspiration flowed towards the crowd and I could only but listen to the shouting of forgiveness that they cried. My name, woven as a spectacle above memories of foolish days. When children run around and move with the fragrance of freedom in their bones. A child was born. I can see now how that experience shaped me. Not only did it made me one with courage but also with bluntness. More specifically, the art of being blunt. Being yourself is not enough to survive the human capacity to neglect freedom. It is the art of being yourself what could transcend your reality to become a fairytale where dreams never stop meeting you. It is the art of confidence that you will master if you trust the world. It is the art of bluntness that you will master if you trust yourself.
if we all have an issue with embracing fully who and what we are. Don’t listen to guidelines, listen to your heart. From an early age, I wanted to know about god. I didn’t meet him but Jesus spoke to me, to don’t give a shit and that saved my life. To don’t give a shit about something else than yourself. To trust on your own judgement, however, strange the outcome. For no one knows it better than you, IT means the feelings inside of you. So the first year was me, all the way going into my last depressions, and extracting the very essence of my soul, it was easier than I imagined. It just took some courage and bluntness to not care about what you will find for if you don’t like what you find it is probably not the very essence of your soul. my second year was meeting the family of my feelings. It was as if I crossed all boundaries of my loneliness and now I had to learn how to cross all boundaries with the people I loved. As if the great guidelines that want to be my destiny can never lose its trust in me. My travelling family came to be the key to embrace my family back home. Blood moves in veins. It sees the language that you are and no one can take that away: the possibility to find the art of being yourself. The sound of language tingles. It moves to the angels where the beautification of words are a mere game and if reached the art of loving then the celebrating feelings will experience the connection between lost souls. Every second is our life fulfilling itself, ending the cycle to renew the ending again. We don’t have the power to choose what we want. We choose what we need. But let’s say that a heartbeat never truly feels understood. I saw how my freedom always needed friction to be life. Always waiting for the next struggle to become tears. I met people who captured my skin, which made me found myself in the cries that it held. Sometimes neglecting myself to follow the feelings wherever it went. Whenever I met someone I would go into his Soundwave and shapeshift so that I could share their energy with them and they would feel something other than alone. And then I would go. Inspiring them by the openness that I carry, to connect to every. To shift in-between tides and realize that the need of friction is just an insecurity that stabilizes doubts by expressing ego. The need to be seen, the need to connect. If we realize how we can transport this need of expressing our ego into art, into music that inspires your surroundings to join you in your ability to artistically share yourself then inspiration, born out of the ego that feels seen can affect the enhancing of love for this ego.
without the friction that is attacking the freedom of the individual
this is friction that is accepting the freedom of the individual
seeing the wisdom of his difference and accepting the way you can move with him. Then he will accept the way you move and harmony can be reached. This was the way I met people, always shapeshift to be the one who shifts the tides. This got me in trouble. Not serious fist fight action but people who unconsciously missed that friction of attacking and tried to box me in with their word and rules. I always stayed the child that ruined their carefully laid out boundaries and rules. Even if I didn’t want it and they began to call me careless and lazy. But I was just careful about the things I care about and not active towards stupid mind games I didn’t want to be a part of.
so I kept on following the feeling that rushed inside of me and darkness went slowly from my bones, through words where my child felt recognized. Eyes that could relate how bodies communicate when they are stripped from skin. Each vein moves in his own way, building the lines where blood runs away. My path led me to a field where intricate pass ways guided me to honesty and independency. For even when i founded again the lines where doubts engraved themselves on my face, I could always go back to the wisdom I gathered in the streets, until that day when I met my princess of snowflakes. I was searching for a fairytale not knowing that it surrounded me.
every breath released from the darkness
calms the night inside of me
my dog is chasing chickens
falling asleep when my eyes are open
for the story of us begins when the night was dark
when all was silent and lost
our journey began in the wombs of empty streets
gathered dust pieces, collected tales of the world
my grandma always said that family doesn’t need a reason to love one and other
she said this silently, with a smile
and a glass of wine in her hands. Sitting patiently for the words caressed by love, she taught me a lot
my grandma
I wished she could see how the road shaped me but wishing is for fools, I did that more times than I wished I had. And secretly I know that my grandma knows for she still speaks to grandpa and grandpa definitely tells her the secrets the wind gave me. I remember how they were my parents, how I began to flourish under their laughter. Understanding that home is just a place where you feel home. Comfortable times sit in the backyard of your memories, I strolled around enough time to get lost. Drinking from the marrow of my bones. I lived in two worlds. It was time to choose, I chose forgetfulness, I chose hope. That one day I would live in the fairytale of embracing myself. I dreamed about that day when all my cares would float down my shoulders and if fear should capture me it was only the fragrance of fear because on that day I would have lived it until it became part of me. Shoulders are not to cry on. Bridges are not to understand the possibility of crossing, my mind had a language and I would understand it. Feelings came forth and the dancing began. To dance with demons, one only needs courage and a stout heart.
I was not afraid to surrender myself. My arms I placed into the river of life and when my feet were trying to stand on the river bend, my arms were sifting the tides, finding the language of my mind. My first journey was to find the answers where love begins. A journey into darkness and small trickles of hope. I knew I had to follow, doubt my every move, only to blend with courage, finding that, if they blend, you easily dismay all your plans and then life grants you the shift of tides. The stranger in the night who will bring you what you need to become yourself. I remembered the dancing in front of the whole population of my high school. I blended then with my broken soul who wanted to be understood. Through my dancing, inspiration flowed towards the crowd and I could only but listen to the shouting of forgiveness that they cried. My name, woven as a spectacle above memories of foolish days. When children run around and move with the fragrance of freedom in their bones. A child was born. I can see now how that experience shaped me. Not only did it made me one with courage but also with bluntness. More specifically, the art of being blunt. Being yourself is not enough to survive the human capacity to neglect freedom. It is the art of being yourself what could transcend your reality to become a fairytale where dreams never stop meeting you. It is the art of confidence that you will master if you trust the world. It is the art of bluntness that you will master if you trust yourself.
if we all have an issue with embracing fully who and what we are. Don’t listen to guidelines, listen to your heart. From an early age, I wanted to know about god. I didn’t meet him but Jesus spoke to me, to don’t give a shit and that saved my life. To don’t give a shit about something else than yourself. To trust on your own judgement, however, strange the outcome. For no one knows it better than you, IT means the feelings inside of you. So the first year was me, all the way going into my last depressions, and extracting the very essence of my soul, it was easier than I imagined. It just took some courage and bluntness to not care about what you will find for if you don’t like what you find it is probably not the very essence of your soul. my second year was meeting the family of my feelings. It was as if I crossed all boundaries of my loneliness and now I had to learn how to cross all boundaries with the people I loved. As if the great guidelines that want to be my destiny can never lose its trust in me. My travelling family came to be the key to embrace my family back home. Blood moves in veins. It sees the language that you are and no one can take that away: the possibility to find the art of being yourself. The sound of language tingles. It moves to the angels where the beautification of words are a mere game and if reached the art of loving then the celebrating feelings will experience the connection between lost souls. Every second is our life fulfilling itself, ending the cycle to renew the ending again. We don’t have the power to choose what we want. We choose what we need. But let’s say that a heartbeat never truly feels understood. I saw how my freedom always needed friction to be life. Always waiting for the next struggle to become tears. I met people who captured my skin, which made me found myself in the cries that it held. Sometimes neglecting myself to follow the feelings wherever it went. Whenever I met someone I would go into his Soundwave and shapeshift so that I could share their energy with them and they would feel something other than alone. And then I would go. Inspiring them by the openness that I carry, to connect to every. To shift in-between tides and realize that the need of friction is just an insecurity that stabilizes doubts by expressing ego. The need to be seen, the need to connect. If we realize how we can transport this need of expressing our ego into art, into music that inspires your surroundings to join you in your ability to artistically share yourself then inspiration, born out of the ego that feels seen can affect the enhancing of love for this ego.
without the friction that is attacking the freedom of the individual
this is friction that is accepting the freedom of the individual
seeing the wisdom of his difference and accepting the way you can move with him. Then he will accept the way you move and harmony can be reached. This was the way I met people, always shapeshift to be the one who shifts the tides. This got me in trouble. Not serious fist fight action but people who unconsciously missed that friction of attacking and tried to box me in with their word and rules. I always stayed the child that ruined their carefully laid out boundaries and rules. Even if I didn’t want it and they began to call me careless and lazy. But I was just careful about the things I care about and not active towards stupid mind games I didn’t want to be a part of.
so I kept on following the feeling that rushed inside of me and darkness went slowly from my bones, through words where my child felt recognized. Eyes that could relate how bodies communicate when they are stripped from skin. Each vein moves in his own way, building the lines where blood runs away. My path led me to a field where intricate pass ways guided me to honesty and independency. For even when i founded again the lines where doubts engraved themselves on my face, I could always go back to the wisdom I gathered in the streets, until that day when I met my princess of snowflakes. I was searching for a fairytale not knowing that it surrounded me.
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