Tag Archives: diary

Straight from my heart (i.e. my diary)…

Chili Fruits

Tonight I’d like to escape. I’d like to go far, far away from being me. Not all of me…just part of me. The part that doesn’t get it. The part that wants something it doesn’t understand. The part that aches for an answer, yet sees no answer in sight. The part that wants what it cannot have. Of course, the answer lies in the question, not in an escape into something else. Well, you know what? Whenever this question has been posed before, I’ve felt hopelessness. Like I’ll never figure it out. I’ll stick to work. Get lost in my projects. The tangible things. The things which bring me joy. And if I just do that, then I’ll be OK because I never have to touch the parts of my soul that are confused, or wounded. It’s been a balance between despair, or losing myself from it altogether by filling my life with work that I love. I refuse doing that anymore. I will just have to face it without despairing about it. Do something that makes me happy and think about it.

I wish I had some food at home. Then I would stand in the kitchen all night conducting crazy experiments and getting lost in something totally different. In smells, sights and thoughts that would clear my head. Sadly I don’t and I have to get up at like 5am tomorrow to have a decent chance of getting my work done. And buy a car. Very important. Then I can actually get some food up the hill. Maybe if I put chili in my tea tomorrow morning it will have the desired effect?

When we redecorate the house this weekend I will use that as a tool for inspiration. Creation always inspire. This time we are going Moroccan. Morocco inspires me too. Maybe I’ll get out my charcoal too and paint a portrait of someone, or just play with color. I need to play, that’s all I know. Play with a few of my favorite things. We are literally going to have to saw so much stuff and paint and be creative that any thought left nagging will get transformed, if nothing else just because I’m determined it will and I’m rather stubborn.

When feet touches moist sand, eyes open wide with wonder. Life sparkles. Sometimes life touches you. We are made of this stuff and we see it reflected around us. If we love the sunshine, I believe somewhere the sunshine is in us. Or maybe we are like the moonlight and attracted to our polar opposite? Then again, the moonlight is made of sunshine. We are all, by the end of the day sunshine. Sunshine that came alive.

Outside the city twinkle with light. I’m happy up here. I think I’ve found home.

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Filed under Life, poetry