Returning to my space..

I am back, back to the space that is mine.
Back to the world that is mine
You can't find me here
You can't hurt me here
I return to my world
Where I create everything I want to happen
Where the pictures form into words
And nothing you say can be anything here
All I have to say, I say it here
All I want to happen, I make it happen here
I return to my world
And I am not taking you with me
For this is my space
And when I create,
No one can find me.
No one can hurt me here.

This is my space.

The runner...

The bus was going to be in nine minutes. Three girls passed me by, I heard one of them say, "here, we are used to having pain in our bodies". I wondered what that conversation was about. I had no idea, but in my mind, I heard myself say "preach, sister!". I felt like my whole body was in pain. My heart, my legs, my shoulders, my finger tips. I was in pain.

I began to walk. I did not want to take any short cuts, so I just walked. It was cold and I was freezing. After a few minutes, I could not feel my ears anymore but I kept walking, past the bench where I used to sit in the summer, past the fields that would turn golden in the autumn, past everything that once gave me pleasure in the summer.

I walked and walked, my shouders felt heavy and I remembered a time many years ago when my brain did not want to cooperate with my my body. My brain said to my legs "you can't possibly take another step. You are done". I felt that way. That my brain was doing its own thing. It had abandoned my body to the world. I focused on listening to my foot steps on the snow, the sound came into my ears as if from another place. It echoed in my ears. "You are so slow, you need to sit down. You can't walk anymore". I reached a tunnel, there was a slab of concrete, a block, just there, waiting for me. "You need to sit down now" my brain said to my body.

I was afraid that if I sat down, I will never get up anymore. My body would be found in the morning, frozen.

I kept walking, I heard the sound of foot steps behind me, confident foot steps, somebody that knew where he was going. I knew it was a man even before he passed me on my slow journey.

"I wish I could walk like you, I wish I knew where I was going"

He passed me by, confident and his head held high in the freezing temparatures.

I was alone again, on a path that was leading somewhere, somewhere.

Across the road, I saw a winter runner. Yeah, show me how much of a loser I am,  I thought. I heard a screeching sound, and I stopped and starred as I saw him do an extraordinary slide and fall badly, on the slippery road. We both were in shock.

"Fuck!" he screamed.

I was just going to ask "are you alright?"

But before my mouth could form the words, he just got up and kept running. He did not even hesitate for a moment. He did not check to see if he had any injuries or dust the snow off his clothes. He just got up and kept running.

Now thats how you do it. I thought. You just do it.

I took a deep breath and quicked my pace. Who cares how you fall? Its how you get up that matters.

I am tired of falling. I am.

But just like that runner, sometimes there is no need to stop and check for the damages. Perhaps sometimes seeing the damages and knowing that they are there is more of a burden than I can manage.

All I have to do...is just do it.

The Circle...

My mum always told me never to be kind to people with an expectation. Kindness comes from the heart and its a conscious choice that should be done without any expectations. She always said that more often than not, kindness will come back to you but rarely from the same person you were kind to.  It comes back in different shapes and forms.

All my life, I have followed this rule, it doesn't matter if those you are kind to are ungrateful or never help you out in your time of need, you will get it back, regardless.

I have many classic examples of random strangers coming to my aid when friends have failed. My flat mate often reminds me to record my meetings with strangers and many of those meetings I hope I have written down somewhere. Its hard to keep track of all my writings.

Today, was one of those days. I did not sleep a wink last night, insomnia. I waited all morning for a call that never came. I was distraught. "I don't deserve this", I thought. "I don't".

I remembered that I had promised to help a friend out today in her cafe and even though I was tired and sad, I decided to go there anyway. On my way back home, I had to top up my bus card and for some reason, perhaps because I was tired, hungry and sad, I just could not figure out what zone I needed, what coupons I had to buy... I was getting a bit frustrated. The guy at the ticket office saw me and came over.  He was unbelievably patient and kind to me. Explaining everything very gently and asking me patiently, questions so he could help me.

For many people, this might not be a big deal, but to me, it was. His kindness made me relax and I began to smile at my own foolishness, I heard my train in the distance but I did not want to leave and neither did he. It was one of those meetings that was just humane. Perhaps he too, was craving for some kindness and human contact, perhaps nobody had looked in his eyes today. But he saw me, and I, him.

I stood by the ticket office, chatting about nothing. Another train passed.

"Well, if you ever have any problems with your card, just come back here any time, and I will help you out"

I did not tell him that I lived miles away, and the possibility of us ever meeting again, was quite slim.

"I will" I said, "Thank you".

As I walked away, I thought of the circle of kindness, how strangers often touch me with simple gestures, simple acts that others take for granted.

I came back home and just as I was about to make my dinner, my phone rang, it was an old friend.

"Hello?" All I could hear was the sound of sobbing....I had not talked to her for months...

"What's the matter? Tell me, I am here"

"Imagine I have to call you in another country! I don't have anybody to talk to" she cried.

"Does it matter what country I am in? That's why I am your friend. What is wrong? I am here"

As I listened to her, it occurred  to me that I was right there, in the circle that never ends...

Happy Valentines Day!

"I know I am difficult"

You are the easiest person I can be myself with

"I feel like I am not enough"

You are more than enough for me.

"I wish I could do more for you"

You have done more for me than anybody has ever done

"I want to make you happy"

 

Knowing that you exist, makes me happy.

"I am sorry I did not get you any present"

You are my present, everyday, you are.

I hear the song that breaks my heart...and think of you...

Your own shit should be easier to clean...

My mother says the funniest things. After complaining about the huge mess I have made of stuff  and how I now had to clean it all up, she says, well better to clean your own shit up that somebody elses!. Your own shit should be easier to clean.

Well, it made sense. At least its mine. lol.

Nothing new here, my friend fixed my old laptop so I am super happy. Only problem is for some reason, I cant use the quotations marks and other symbols...anyway, I am sure thats also an easy thing to fix.

Been listening to a lot of music...

Trying to crawl back into some sort of social life...I have been neglecting that...I mean, I go out, its not like I am stuck in some kind of hole somewhere but I have not had my usual variety. I have just been doing the same things all the time. Boring.

Getting to the end of a journey is always hard. I totally freaked out last week. My brain was on overload and with insomnia, you can imagine. No structure, no organization,just running about like a chicken without a head.

Now sleeping is a bit under control. I try to take naps and I sleep some hours now at night.

I am hungry. Have to go.

Soul adventurer...

Snow, white, the train passes places I recognise. I jogged there, I cycled there, I cried there, I was happy there, I was sad there, it passed through my memories of the city. I sang to myself, "stop that train I 'm leaving", Peter Tosh. Everything was familiar and known.

The bus was already there when I arrived. 2 mins. I did not have to run. There was nobody on the bus. It was very cold. Nobody was outside. The driver waved me in, without looking at my ticket. Great. It occurred to me that I have been having a particularly good  run with this ticket. I have been all over the city in two days and just two controllers have put a stamp on it. They mostly just wave me in. This might be because I always greet the drivers. People don't greet.I think its rude to enter a bus and not acknowledge the person at the wheel so I always say hi. Anyway, this made me feel like perhaps I was actually a lucky person, despite all the disappointments I usually have, when it comes down to it, on a daily basis, I actually meet more kind people than most people. Random people, of course. I have to be the world's expert on meeting random people. I got off the bus. There was a lonesome taxi at the end of the street. The street was desolate. It would have been perfect for one of those winter horror movies...or something existentialist....the buildings on both sides of the road looked abandoned and sad. If not that I had just talked to my friend, and knew for sure that she was in one of these buildings, walking down that road, with a taxi cab with its lights on at the end of a snow covered road would not have been attempted. What will be in the taxi? A dead body? A weird looking taxi driver, perhaps conveying ´ghosts or vampires to other dimensions of the universe. Who knows? There was no such thing of course, just a taxi driver who seemed to have lost his way. He looked as scared as I looked. Like "what the fuck is this shit all about?". I know men, I know.

My friend had coffee on when I got to the cafe. Its an art cafe, I helped out there in the summer. Had a good time doing nothing, just writing and trying to paint.  She had coffee on when I arrived and a box of luxury chocolates. I thought she had got that as a present, "oh, nice present?" I asked. "I bought it myself" she replied. Well done!  So I settled in with coffee and chocolates and we talked about our lives.

She is much older than me, about my mother's age but she is a good friend. Her husband, who is much younger than she is, is not one for conversations, he scrambled away as soon as I arrived and went about pretending to be busy. Whatever, it would not have been fun with him anyway.

Well, after coffee, I was dropped off at another God forsaken bus stop. A bus almost drove past me but it stopped a few meters after the bus stop. Got on, was waved in, again, empty bus. Still going well with the lucky ticket.

"Stop that train I'm leaving", "Stop that train I'm leaving", still in my head.

Observed all kinds of people getting on the train. I felt good with the mix of the people on the train. Mothers with crying babies, hard core looking gangsters with hoods, recovering alcoholics or whatever else they were recovering from, teenagers with head phones and old people returning from God knows where.

"Stop that train I'm leaving"...

.....whether I am right or wrong...