For you too…

resilience_introI know you cried too.

The rain carried your burning tears so they would meet mine. We need to cry together more often…I whispered in the hollowing wind and I know…

I know you heard me.

It took me too long, again, and it felt like failing. Why do our most powerful feelings need so much time to turn into words?

It took me too long to reach out my hands to you. To embrace the space between us, defying distance, time, odds…history.

I know you felt it too. My arms around you.

We see the world through different eyes and, yet, our hearts bled together for the same cause. That’s all it takes. You are my family, as I am yours, united by an unbreakable bond.

Faith. We speak different languages and, yet, when my prayers stopped, you continued with yours. When my voice got weak, you raised yours, and when I blamed the sky for all the tragedy of this hopeless world…that’s when you asked for forgiveness.

In my name too…

We see the world through different veils, some chosen, some imposed. I would wear yours in a blink of the eye, if that would save me from my own! I would cover my face if that would guarantee the uncovering of my heart. But this would never happen…

And you know it too.

east-attacks-sri-lankaPeople. Religion. Churches. They build them just to take them down! They would gladly use their guns and bombs and pride…to set our souls on fire. They did it, they’ll do it again…while you and me, we learn to be more than innocent bystanders.

I know you fight too! For my cause too…

My friend…my brother…my sister…the things that unite us are stronger than hate. Even if we both need to close our eyes, in order to see each other’s hearts…That’s already a little, perfect miracle! Now take my hand, I’m here with you, willing to believe!

For you too…Because, now, we all became survivors!

 

 

 

 

The source of the images: https://www.sciencemag.org/news/2018/02/science-resilience-what-are-ingredients-help-people-cope

Deadly Attacks in Sri Lanka Target Luxury Hotels and Churches

 

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How to fill an empty page

3524484971_a524f481d3_bHe slowly walks towards us, just to say hello, obviously disturbed by our presence. He asked us to be there, but it’s in his nature to make people feel small, unimportant and weak. His arrogant smile tells us he had his way…

As I watch myself in the small mirror on the dark corridor, I have to admit, I do look small and humble, so I guess he succeeded. I can tell, by the watery hand that I’m holding, that I’m not the only one feeling scared.

She comes to us with an honest smile, but her eyes look down and I cannot see any spark, any shining human emotion. She is polite and sociable, she can show interest towards anyone and anything, but we all know, it’s just for the show.

There’s nothing real in the affection and attention she mimics.

He speaks of subjects he reads, he explains science documentaries he saw. She smiles and nods, without interrupting him, of course, it would be so rude! But I do and I love it! I love how his eyes get narrow and his rictus grin becomes uglier than ever. Do I hate him? I probably do.

I interrupt him just to speak with her. To ask her how she’s feeling. To see those blue eyes, that once were bright, lifting slowly to meet my gaze. To see that smile, that once was honest, appearing again for a brief moment. To hear her say she’s alright, even if I know she’s lying!

But his voice covers her fragile answers and I know…from now on, I’ll only get silence from her. And ugly, angry eyes from him. I did crossed some ridiculous line. But they needed us here, so this is where we’re staying.

Because this family picture has no value without witnesses.

I should be leaving, but something tells me to stay and to try again and again to bring her back. From the imaginary world she’s creating behind those quiet blue eyes. A world where she can rebel, a world where she feels loved.

Years from this moment he’ll sit by her coffin, explaining us about cancer. The causes, the symptoms, the costs! And I’ll stay there, watching her white, small, tired body, taken to the grave. And I’ll swear I’ll never be like that!

I’ll fight a million battles with the force of my rebellion! And I’ll shout a million angry words! And I’ll break a million chains and barriers if that’s what it takes!

For now…all I have is an empty page, where I should write about her. Her necrology…and I’m lost for words…Because happiness can only fill a heart and sadness is empty by itself. It’s only anger that fills this empty page…

And faith that fills an empty heart. 

And love is the reason behind this blog post.

 

 

 

Is there anyone out there?

canary-birds-indoor-hazards“Anyone at all?” she asked in a broken voice, but only the falling leafs seemed to answer to her calling. They flew around her, swirling and giggling in the wind’s turmoil. She was never that lonely, nor that eager to run into someone’s arms. Anyone’s arms…

She was a runaway, like so many others before her. Little birds, escaping golden cages, brave little creatures who craved for more than crumbles, they needed the rain and the rainbow, the sun and the lightnings, the love and the passion of being free!

This little bird always considered her story as being boring, common and flat. Nothing to complain about in her perfect little world. Nothing to dream about, for she never truly knew her needs and her desire. Hunger and thirst, cold and heated, desperate and euphoric…those were notions she only knew theoretically…

In a perfectly round cage, safety is a sure thing. That’s how her masters used to say and she learned gratitude by heart! That’s what kept her away the cold, dangerous, tormented, real world outside. She would never ask if she’s free to fly.

Freedom? Of course she’s free! Can’t you see that I never locked her in? Can’t you find the open door, sweet little bird? But she was violently shaking her little head in the palm of her keeper. NO! No open door would ever be more alluring than his fingers gently caressing her silky feathers.

So he acted neglectful and she became restless. Not only the little door of her golden cage, but also the big window of the his golden home…how many temptations is a little heart doomed to repress? If the enemy’s out there, in the big, wild world…then how come she’s so sad and lonely, right here, inside?

It was not the hand that fed her, it was not him to blame for this outcome…

It’s the eye that stopped seeing her beauty, it’s the ear that stopped hearing her songs, it’s the heart that stopped beating in the same rhythm as hers.

“Anyone at all? Anyone to love with everything in me? Anyone to care  for this crazy little bird? Just someone…anyone…”

She was just a runaway who, like so many others before her, disappeared under the starry sky. And we’ll never know…

if she found anyone at all…

or she went into the unknown, hungry and exhausted…

if she ever found her way back home…

or she just found an escape from the big wild cage we call REAL world…

if someone loved her to her last moments…

or another hunter loved to have in her a different kind of pray.

But there’s one thing I’m sure about: She wont be the last little bird who’s replacing an illusion for another. You, little bird, just like me, with struggling hearts, desperately kicking the walls of our golden cages…freedom…what an impossible dream…what a misfortune…

it’s in our human nature to fulfill it!

 

 

I found the image at: https://www.picturesboss.com/pictures/canary-bird-flying-0c.html

 

My favorite miracle today…

1-1P919111457

The blue skies are smiling above me and, for one moment, it’s almost impossible to remember my blindness. Was it my free choice or was it, simply, another way of growing? I needed time and I needed honesty…

To face my dark side, to let the darkness tell its stories…to fall…yes, I needed this falling.

Because my eyes refused to see the Light and my heart denied the Love. Blinded by the veil that was meant to protect me, I could not accept the salvation. I thought I’m safer there…on the darkest paths of my soul.

The things I found out were the truths that have always haunted me.

That love will only survive in a free, childlike heart.

And faith turns life into a joyful journey, even when it’s hard.

And perfection doesn’t belong to a human soul.

But I was old, too old…and sad, too sad….judgemental and too critical…to be even able to see Love…or Faith doing their miracles into my life. This was my blindness. My brokenness and my pain. This was the reason for my running away.

The blue skies are smiling above me, like they always did. And here I am, back home, learning all the little, imperfect steps. I may not be a bright light on this earth made of so many nuances, I may not use the right words when they’re needed, my love may not find ways to express itself loud enough, clear enough…but I am home.

Home, where I know I am loved.

I guess that’s my favorite miracle today.

 

 

I found the image at: https://www.pexels.com/photo/photo-of-a-pathway-1690355/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Don’t call it “dark”!

She is beautiful in her favorite pink dress, with flowers and puffy sleeves. She wears matching ribbons in her blonde hair and her shoes have fine silver lines with just the perfect touch of glitter. She has the brightest smile, simply glowing in the light of the summer’s sun.

She always smiles. 

She knows how precious love can be, that’s why all her words creates love and kindness. Her memories go back to the moment when she promised she’ll never be alone again, so she’s holding on to this promise with the strength of a thousand waterfalls. She will say whatever it’s needed to whomever needs it.

She always says the right words.

She never cries in public because she was told that that’s the biggest disgrace for such a lovely little girl. It was enough for her to repress an ocean of anger, pain and frustration. The scratched knees, the rejections, the missunderstanding of a world that only asks for drama…who needs her tears? And who needs her truths?

She always walks proudly, holding her head up high.

Well, one day she fell. Her perfect glittering shoes betrayed her and the puffy sleeves proved to be nothing but useless pieces of outfit. It also proved that her favorite pink dress wasn’t quite an armor and the matched ribbons were not supposed, after all, to protect her beauty from the mischievous mud she fell in.

She called it “dark”. And darkness needs to be fought and defeated. Right?

So she became a warrior and, like every true hero, she started to save people. The main purpose was the salvation of the world itself, but she was willing to admit that that’s quite a challenge these days. What will you do with a world who refuses to be saved? In the name of faith…that’s how she justified her bravery. Still, there are no words to justify her loneliness and her foolishness. And when her faith was nothing but a facade…

Will she be called “a demon” if she cannot pray anymore?

Sweet little girl, where are your tears, when you scratch your knees, falling to the ground?

Brave child, where are your cries for help, when they took away their love, leaving you orphan and incomplete?

Beautiful heart, where do you keep your anger, when they ask you to be kind instead of breaking these hypocrite walls of righteousness?

Will you blame it on your dark side?

Well, don’t call it “dark”. It’s only human.

 

 

I’m never letting go…

f656a9959ae9fadb09ff69700119718fShe offered me a silver cup filled with hot chocolate and an embrace…“so that you’ll never get lost again on your way home”. And I was lost for words, mesmerized by the sweet feeling of being safe. I stood there, watching her moving around, in her little kitchen, touching the crystal plates with so much care.

“I’m setting the table for a princess. For you. Welcome home.”

I smiled, the world outside was slowly disappearing. I never knew that angels can be so close, I can almost see their wings reflected so beautiful by the shining of the crystal plates. And I’m thinking that all the signs, all the torment, all the emptiness had a meaning.

“You’re the only angel around here. We are just memories.”

I survived through memories, but this makes no sense. How can a memory keep me hopeful and faithful when glory faded away and my castle was made of shifting sands. But all my philosophical thinking seems to be dissolved in the sweet chocolate taste.

“Don’t go…stay a little more.”

I’d stay for an eternity here, drinking hot chocolate from a silver cup. I’d stay in this warm embrace for ever and a day…But the abyss is calling me and I have to give in. The wolf inside me is hungry for pain. Oh, how I’d stay in her arms…

I open my eyes and my lips taste sweet. The bridge is narrow and rocky, it hurts me to stand here, bare foot. The black waters bellow me are calling me with deceiving promises of healing and rest. There’s nothing pulling me back this time.

“Not even a cup of your favorite hot chocolate?”

What was this voice whispering from the highest skies? Where is this feeling of warmth coming from, like I’m being embraced by Light itself? And why am I forgiven, if I’ll never forgive myself?

“Because you are loved. Get off the bridge and follow your path, you are called to love back.”

And then I knew why all the white feathers around me seem to point to one direction only…to Light. The only love I’m never letting go.

 

I found the image at: https://ro.pinterest.com/pin/386113368036337423/?lp=true

 

What if…(BPD awarness)

e873e8ec2912c1db31d8311311a17b3a-d4p3kaoSo, what if I’d tell you that you’ll grow up to be completely and utterly alone? Surrounded by people, some calling you “friend”, some calling themselves “your family”, without you ever feeling any emotional bond…

What if you’d end up wearing such a thick mask, so that no one could guess what hides behind that painted smile of yours? And all your efforts will be in vain…one thick wall broken down, just to reveal another million walls behind it…

What if you’d never be capable to hug your mother, even in your highest distress…or hers? She’ll look at you with tears in her eyes and her pain will kill you inside…still, your arms will stay stiff and your body frozen…

What if you wouldn’t have any friends, because you left them, one by one, in fear and anguish that they’ll be the firsts to leave you? Just because your fear of being abandoned, as irrational and foolish as it may seem, is the only stable thing in your life…

What if some day the man who loved you once more than life itself, would call you “a monster”? You’d see the blood and the wounds, you’d see the pain and the defeat and you’d know you did this to him! You’d wish you were the wounded one, you’d wish you could attack and harm yourself, instead of him…

What if your body would suffer from hunger, thirst, pain, exhaustion, while you’re living a life of luxury? Oh, don’t say it’s impossible…if you starve yourself to death, trying to be thin when all you truly want is to be accepted…

What if you’d face, like a daily nightmare, the desperation of knowing that someone, somewhere, somehow, will see the darkness inside you? You’d look into your children’s eyes, praying you wont see any of the shadows that are consuming your soul…

What if you’d hate your best friend because you loved too much and was given so little? Love, hate, anger, kindness – all coexisting in the same being, at the same time – yours! You are insane, ill, sick and suicidal, but no one knows…

Right…what if you’d have one dream and only: to find the courage to make that deep cut, that jump, that fall…just because is too emotional exhausting to be yourself. And, by the way…who are you? What if you’d never find out?

What if one day you’d try to see your reflection and a demon will smile to you from the mirror?

Would you still want this existence?

Yes, my God of Mercy and Love, I would…Because I know YOU’ll be with me all the way…

Borderline Personality Disorder is NOT a death sentence. Please don’t turn it into one!

 

 

Image found via google images

He breaks all the walls…

21579a042603b65There’s a secret world inside of me, but I never speak about its beauty. It’s made of golden rays that embrace him in light, every Sunday morning…

A life of Sundays, all filled with promises of love. He kisses my sleepy eyes, so that, even in my dreams, I would feel safe. My one and only, gently touching my lips with his, softly whispering sweet poems, tenderly awakening the woman inside me…

A life of summers, with colorful flowers, all for me, all because of his love. The rose petals on our silky bed…a promise of trust and passion, tenderness that leaves no fear between us. Roses in my hair, their perfume mesmerizes my senses and all I can feel now is this ocean of devotion in his eyes…

A life of childlike giggles, when he’s counting the freckles on my face and I pretend to be grumpy and cranky and difficult, just to hear that seductive voice of him, calling me “his darling”…and then, laughing like crazy, to plant thousand little kisses all over his worried smile…

A life of poems, all perfect and all incomplete…because, just like in movies, I sneak behind his back, just to see him smiling while he writes…I put my arms around his neck and turn to face him, just to feel his heart beating stronger…I sit in his lap, with my head on his chest, just to stop him from writing a proper ending…

My love for you is endless…please don’t write the end…

And he listens and he cares, he’s there for me, even in my madness. He’s my rock, my armor, even when I fight my demons and my memories. He thinks I’m beautiful, even when I cry and he swears I’m sweet, even when I’m stubborn…

There’s a secret world inside of me, but I never speak about its beauty. It hurts too much…

Because he breaks all the walls, embracing my heart in light and love.

While I only break him…

Forgive me…I love you too.

 

 

 

I found the image at https://pngtree.com/freepng/love-clouds_191529.html

 

 

 

 

 

In case you failed to notice…

xg8_collection_of_photog

I stood there, on his doorstep, wearing nothing but the cold rain in my body and soul. Frightened and alone, my sense of shame is tearing me apart at the very thought of stepping inside. He’ll break me once again…

He saw the rain in my eyes and needed no words. Somewhere along the path I lost myself and somehow he knew how to bring me here. Wordlessly and blindly, he took my hand to guide me inside. To the warmth of the fire…

I wanted to cry, but enough tears were wasted by the wandering clouds. Above us, up to the grey skies, God is watching with a smile. A sign of forgiveness. I’m standing here, but my bleeding heart belongs to the storm outside…

The rain looks good on you, darling…

You’re the reason for my storms…

I’m the reason for your sparkling eyes, my love…

They’re sparkling out of tears. You only see the rain…

I only see your loneliness, dear…

You love this…like a master of puppets loves the life he puts within the lifeless…

I love you, you make me feel powerful, sweet one…

Your power is my weakness and it breaks me every time…

That’s our precious secret, no one knows you’re mine, little one…

I have no one…

Then stay and give yourself to me. The sky above you already forgave this crime, for it’s meant to be your destiny. See, precious one? I’m still here, I’ll always be here to hold you…

No one…

Yes, no one can make you smile, nor fill the emptiness inside you. No one loves you in the rain…Their little hearts are addicted to sunshine, beautiful one…

His hunger devoured my fragile inner strength and the light faded away while the rain shouted angry curses to the world. I took my bare soul and gave it all, just to feed this void. He held me even if there was nothing left to give. For a brief moment, he kept his promises and he was the one for me…

No one…

No one loves you like I do, no one wants you like I will…

My words remained unspoken and my heart stayed cold. He tasted the bitter trace of tears on my cheeks and decided that it’s time for the curtain fall.

Sweet madness, what is your favorite path through the falling rain?

For I am still outside, in the cold, wearing the yesterday’s storms.  Still chasing away temptations and demons. Falling, from time to time, rising above in the name of faith. Wondering about them, the loved ones. Why do they always fail to notice?

There’s another standing at his doorstep. Wearing nothing but the rain inside her. One moment from now it may be too late. Don’t call her “an addict”, just call her out…

 

 

I found the picture at: http://sharequotes4you.com/p/sad-crying-girl-alone-in-rain

Title inspired by Jewel’s song “Foolish games” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LKvlDrf-_L8

 

Worthy of love!

17306216-icy-skulptur-engel-im-winter-gefrorenen-stadt

The sensation was a freezing cold kind of pain, it spread through my body, leaving my heart numb and my voice soundless. But the echoes of my conscience kept pushing me forward, one step at the time. In a place that, once upon a time, was called the bridge of fire

I knew he’s waiting for me, my yellowed eyes demon with his fire and his torches and his anger! I prayed I’d find him before it’s too late, but my abysses were filled with ice and where, a lifetime ago, were flames and smoke, now it was only a devastating white desperation.

The trembling shadow whit ghostly eyes seemed to wait for nothing but death itself. No sharp claws, no threatening grins, no blasphemous curses. Nothing to destroy me, nothing to feed the devouring fires of hell. Just a lonely boy with a frozen heart, desperately trying to put the pieces back together.

Here he is and there I am…So close, I can almost feel his pain and I know it’s real. I also know my gift and my mission. The voice inside me speaks loud and clear, words of love, words of faith. And my arms are ready to warm him up, back to life, back to love…

For one thing it’s certain and beyond any doubt…

“The day you stopped fighting was the day your heart froze. And I fell out of hell, just to pick up the pieces. It was a beautiful heart…”

He cried as he spoke his truths. I cried as I held his fragile soul. I cried as I fell in love with everything that was imperfect in him. As in myself.

“How does it feel…to see me so breakable…so human…The angel of dark. Your demon. The one you pushed, you broke, you set on fire and you fought with everything in you. Am I worthy of love, even if I was born of hate?”

He pleaded for my love, as if he ever needed to plead…

And I pleaded for my salvation, as I never pleaded before…

And the voice from above spoke loud and clear. Words of love, words of healing and acceptance. Questions that my conscience needs to answer in the most honest and truthful way.

How does it feel to see yourself as less than perfect?

Less than angelic, because your heart was touched by fire. Less than demonic, for the light you’re carrying is a divine one. 

Human, simply human. Loved, above anything else in this world. 

Treasured, even with your dark side, your rebellious fights and your insecurities.

Yes, worthy of love, even if, once upon a time, you called yourself a demon…

 

 

I found the image at: https://design.tutsplus.com/tutorials/create-an-angelic-sculpture-made-of-ice-in-photoshop–psd-7383