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5196

A Sunday afternoon alone.

A rarity these days.

Freedom of thought in silence while the road is swift under my MTB.

I just had things to do, M.

We had a wonderful Saturday night.

But I desperately need to recharge sometimes.

Even if I feel a bit under the weather right now…a good night’s sleep and everything will be in order…

Tomorrow is another day at work…I can’t be late.

I don’t have that luxury this week.

5190

How can you do it every time…

I don’t know if you’re just lucky, still…you wiped the darkness again in two days.

I like the way we doze on Sunday afternoons and wake up and make love.

I like your face when you sleep, and your fingers tightening on my hand.

The slow sliding of the sun behind shutters.

5182

Maybe it doesn't look like it from the outside.
But I have opinions, ethics and morals...yes, morals!

And I am a fucking INTJ, I rarely judge even if I don't like it.

But when you splurge disgusting anecdotes I hear them and my opinion of you lowers.
To say I'm displeased right now is awfully on the lighter side.
I'm enraged with myself, for not seeing before.

Still, while thinking what to do (and the solutions were two, oh dear) I decided to continue, to see if I'm really wrong.
The doubt of doubting, a last hope against hope.
Intuition is strong but in this case I need confirmation.

The thing is...I already woke up saturday night, I have no pink lenses on thanks to you.
Today I'll see you again for what you really are.
Judging is strong.

I'm not scared.
I know my shortcomings but there are things in life I'll never bend to or close my eyes on.

Once I did and that was a disaster of epic proportions.
My guts that time told me, repeatedly.
I won't make that mistake again.

When you sleep well, but you just ‘know’ things are ri-emerging underwater.

And the current is very strong and sings ‘It’s a matter of time.’

~ The definition of dread

5170

Io: “Non riesco a capire cosa c’è di tanto eccezionale in me…”
M. sorride, scuote la testa.
Io: “Un giorno me lo dirai, sì? Non mi piace non sapere le cose.”
M. : “Sì, certo tigrottina.”
E quando fa così, con quel tono paziente, vorrei tanto pestare i piedi.
E quelle volte, a letto, che invece di rispondermi mi guarda intensamente e non so perché mi sento strana.
Come se stesse cercando di comunicarmi qualcosa ma non sono sulla stessa lunghezza d’onda.

darlingicarus:

when one character brokenly says “i have nothing to offer you” and the other character looks at them with fond exasperation, because there’s nothing else they could want except the gift of their love. that shit gets me.

And sometimes I think “Jesus Christ…it’s not possible, I really found him. I found the one I always written of in many different ways. With dark eyes and a sunny attitude. With an ummovable allergy to love but able to. I’m falling hard and this is NOT good.”

At the same moment I smile at him and ignore my train of thoughts. He makes me feel AGAIN and I’m starved.

thoradvice:

you can fall in love at 30. you can discover your true passion at 40. you can go back to school at 50. you can learn to draw, or paint, or sing at 60. relax. just because you didn’t do most, or any, of the things considered “young adult milestones” doesn’t mean you never will. there’s no time limit on happiness.

5164

In questi giorni sono circa tre mesi che frequento M. a livello sentimentale.

Otto a livello di conoscenza.

Non è una relazione pesante affettivamente, anzi….mi piace molto la fiducia che c’è da entrambe le parti ed la mancanza totale di fronzoli inutili.

Siamo due persone divise, viviamo vite diverse e decisamente parallele.

Siamo completamente diversi l’uno dall’altro eppure ci vogliamo un mondo di bene…

Non c’è una costante ricerca della perfezione o del simbolismo relazionale d’oggi (social, gesti pubblici o spiattellate con gli amici di momenti che sarebbe meglio tenersi per sé).

È bellissimo ed allo stesso tempo ho un terrore fottuto che un mattino mi sveglieró e mi renderò conto che è stato solo un sogno.

E sono felice, in pace con me stessa e con quello che mi circonda.

Io che un anno fa ero appena tornata indietro sulle mie decisioni definitivamente e ad un passo dall’abisso senza ancora saperlo.

La vita è imprevedibile.

Come un giro in giostra senza sicura.

Il 2020 è finito da un po’ costellato com’era di brutture e pesci in faccia e l’arrivo di M.

Il 2021 non sembra migliore, eppure… c’è una speranza.

aureliobooks:

my dad likes to call the stretches of time where you’re not creating “dreaming periods” and says that they’re meant to allow you to absorb all of the beauty, life, and inspiration from the things around you so that when you’re able to create again, you will have fanned your spark back into a flame. sometimes its hard to see those moments as anything but stagnation, but he always says that they’re natural and healthy and needed—things that should be embraced rather than feared.

And this is so true…

The first two thirds of 2020 have been very bad for me and my mental health.

I’m actually glad I forced myself to stop writing (even if writing always helped me to stay out of depression and pinpoint goals to reach).

And now it’s more than a year, I lived many days without ‘creating’, I tried to diverge from my INTJ hermitism just a little bit and the result is I’m happy.

I’m not different, I’m still a grouch and a control freak and a bitch sometimes.

But I’m happy with M, I feel like I’m breathing again and the air is sweet and warm.

It’s comforting.

The world looks like a better place I could fit in.

 

I think I’m ready and I want to write again but my time is non existent even if my brain is already shifting through ideas and flexing my finger muscles on a keyboard.

Hermes shall return. 😉

Watch and hear while the moon gets paper thin…
Another year passed and your wish sings like a deep bell.
Forgot. Unfound.
Mirror yourself in the ice.
Breathe silver, pay your debts, laugh softly in the end.
Remember your name.

One day, when you least expect it, you are going to crash into someone who is going to be so soft and gentle with your heart, and you are going to be so glad you kept it open. You are going to be so glad that you continued to fight for it that you chose to believe it deserved more.

~ quora

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"This world is but a canvas to our imagination"

. . .

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