The frailty of life

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In which world is a 31-year old destined to die in his sleep?
What kind of deities allow a family to be suddenly destroyed like that?

Life is so fragile, it is so unfairly decided who lives, how and for how long.

Who should have the right to decide? It makes me think of Buddhist beliefs and karma, but why the heck do we have to wait for another life to get justice? It is all very twisted.

Life is fragile, so let’s love, laugh, smile and cry as if it was our last day alive, because it might just very well be. Tell people you love them and don’t sweat the small stuff.
Life is too precious and sometimes so short it is not worth it being f***ing upset for f***ing stupid things with the people you love.
That is not living, that is living death.

I am upset with life and with unfairness. But I guess it’s a deal we can’t break, or can we?
F*** this.

It’s Quiz Night tonight, but the only answers I’m looking for are: why and what for?

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Sidetracked

Sidetracked

The train rushes in but then slows down little by little every time. All of a sudden you’re pushed to the sidetracks.

Once: for not being loved
Twice: for losing patience after too long
Three times: for being misunderstood for not being preferred over another, once again
Then harshly blocked out
And been left to drift away
It feels like being shot at point-blank range.

Silently sidetracked.

(The song:
Phantasmagoria in Two by Tim Buckley

The Kindness of Strangers

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Been thinking today about it while driving a seemingly short but painful drive. Painful because of the wounds that it opens.
Every time.
Full of tears as I leave,
but emptied out and on my way to another empty place,
so I can feel full and then whole again,
not like I’m missing a big piece of myself.
Not ever again.

So sometimes life throws a sharp knife right at your throat, and sometimes there is someone to stop it for you. Sometimes that someone is not a loved one, it is not a friend, it is not anyone you’ve ever met before. Until they stop that knife before it stabs you. Or before you can stab yourself with it. There’s the tenderness, the understanding, the encouragement, the support, the appreciating, the good wishes, the missing me, the not judging. They’re just there to hold you tight and to stop your speeding fall. Is it possible they could be angels? I wish I could tap my heels and give them all wings.

We are not aware of the difference we make in people until someone makes it for us.

So in case it ever gets too late I should thank you strangers for your acts of kindness. Now I can still try to believe in humans as a race, in people as a hope, and at times, I even allow myself to think about life as a gift again. And thank you stranger, because without you particularly I would be lost. Without you I don’t think I would be here.

(This post best read while listening to:
Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode)

And Reality Ripped Open

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Once reality rips open, it can’t ever be closed again…

Not through the zipper
Not through the seam
Reality has been ripped open right in the middle of it.

It’s a brutal tear
No needle and thread can mend it
No glue or staples
Can fake it
Nothing can fix it
There are no tools and no toolbox

I’m slipping through the rip
No rope to hold on to
Except for the hope
Of this very new kiss

And I am sorry for those who have always been there
For those very very few
If no tools could work
I might as well give it all up
And just go

Innocence and hope just flees
Cynism settles in
Nothing tastes the same
Nothing smells the same
Nothing feels the same
If there is anything to feel
At all
Anymore.

(This post best read while listening to – once again):
How to Disappear Completely by Radiohead)

(The picture that opens this post is River Liffey that is mentioned in the song)

The World is Silent

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The world has become silent again. Or maybe it was silent all along and I have just noticed it. It is the kind of feeling you get when you’re walking down a busy street, then you get into your car and close the door. The noise that surrounded you disappears in a second, and now it is just you and the emptiness of the small cabin, and your heart is racing.
Deprived of sound, the only thing that exists is that space and the “over awareness” of yourself, your never-ending thinking mind that inevitably wants to fill the room.

The haunting heritage is composed by the things that were done but will never be repeated, the things that were planned but will remain undone forever. The void that was filled but now is been brutally emptied again.

All of a sudden you’ve become invisible, unimportant, almost inexistent anywhere, except for inside that little enclosed universe, your new universe, that you can’t stand.

While you’re inside on your own, you try to reach out to those who are willing to listen or just willing to be present, to hear you cry, to be there, and you realize who’s there and who’s not. Who’s your family and who’s not. Who’s your friend and who’s not. Who loves you unconditionally and who does not.

It is difficult to open the door and step outside that little world again, into the noise, when you are no longer sure whether you’re visible to others anymore. How difficult to hear only yourself once again, not knowing whether you’re real or not. Hopefully just dreaming, or having a nightmare, you think, and you hope.

Hope, I wish for the New Year. Happy New Year to all of you who still believe. I am trying my very very best to.

This post best read while listening to:
How to Dissappear Completely by Radiohead

New Beginnings (reloaded) or The End of the Road

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Nothing like new beginnings, good and bad. After being deeply heartbroken, unfairly left behind, pushed away and strongly misunderstood, here comes the beginning of (yet) another year.

I could write about many things today, but I’m not sure about where to begin.

Living so intensely, and trying so hard to end up your life laying inertly on a bed. Is it worth it? Was it worth it? The struggle? The trying? The putting out your heart on the line? I am not so sure.

(This post best read while listening to: Waiting for the Night to Fall by Depeche Mode)