Daisy Days


A few weeks ago a friend drove a couple of hours to visit for an evening. After all the active classes he teaches outdoors he found the energy to drive over. And to then drive back at six o’clock in the morning.
We hadn’t seen each other for two or three months but we have been there all this time, in the distance.
And when I needed some distance that was granted as well. So he’s a good friend. Even though we had not known each other for that long he’s done much more for me than other people.

Some days are “daisy days”: yes, no, yes, no… Then yes then no again. So many times we think there is something that we want, just to realize a while after that we don’t really want it anymore.
There are so many times when we think we know what we want but then we don’t have a clue.
But I do know. I have known all along. I’ve said so all along. And I don’t change my mind that easily.

I wish I could be there the way he wants me to but I can’t. So I won’t.

I would only like one person to be there but he’s not. He won’t.
I miss the company. I miss the movies. I miss the talking and I miss the laughing. I mostly miss the just looking at each other and understanding.
I miss having my best friend around.

A friend at work asks me how I do it. How I seem to be the “Pied Piper of Hamelin” when it comes to men but not being interested in a single one of them.
Truth is I do absolutely nothing.
I just hope.
That he’ll knock on my door one day.

But he won’t.

(This post best read while listening to:
Palimend by BenoƮt Pioulard)


The Wrongdoings


Yesterday afternoon I ran (drove) away to my safe place (see below).
This is the place I go to when I want to escape from myself. Sometimes when I want to find myself. Sometimes both happen at the same time.
When I got there yesterday, I realized I hadn’t been for months.
And I wasn’t feeling well at all yesterday afternoon.

If everything is disappointment after disappointment. If nothing good stays, it all goes away.
Or maybe I’ve been wrong all along and the only solution to stop collecting failures is that we shouldn’t be collecting at all.

When we are gone, all we leave behind is a big chunk of nothing, a huge room full of hollow, a pile of emptiness.
Maybe if anything is left, it is just debris on your way out.

Is it all worth it then? I can’t still see the point if you’re not leaving anything behind. And I am not leaving anything.

If I could only get a good for every wrong that I’ve received, I would be happy for a lifetime.

So I’m refusing to believe in destiny. I’m refusing to believe in karma. It can’t be right. But as I tend to tell myself every time lately: “it is the way it is”.

And that is going to have to be it, nothing more, nothing less.

(This post best read while listening to:
Nightmares by Band of Skulls)