you can believe anything at all.
you can believe your fears you can believe your ego you can believe your delusion
you can believe anything at all.
you can believe what you feel you can believe yourself you can believe my reality
you can believe anything at all.
you can believe all you can believe nothing you can believe our dream
you can believe anything at all.
that it would be this way. really i did not.
remember when we talked about tokyo?
i do remember new york. i remember you standing there on the stairway at the portal to that world that was then so very foreign to me, and in a quick half-turn i started walking in another direction. down another direction, up another direction, either way, i did turn my back on you and the world that had made my life possible.
this week in an act of absolute egoism, i rejected my ego's intellectual information about what would be sensible, i said no. i said no to the status quo. i said no to my own lack of acceptance of your fears. i said no to the joys found in your arms. i said no. i thought of tokyo. you do remember tokyo?
i never thought that it would be this way. i never thought that i would risk it all, and then in one split second of madness decide it all. decide now, at this point, take a stand, make a commitment, and then not think. think nothing at all.
i have struggled in the past months with the voice of one character. sometimes i have it, it is a loud and clear voice. each time that i hear it, i want to hang on to it, however more often than not, i go back to it, and i do not find its thread again.
i never thought that it would be this way. i never thought that i would embrace it all, and then in one split second of madness decide it all. decide now, at this point, embrace it and close my eyes, and then think nothing at all.
i have struggled in the past months with the very presence of your existence. sometimes i have it, it is a radiant and smooth being. each time that i sense it, i want to hang on to it, however more often than not, i go back to it, and i do not find its thread again.
i never thought that it would be this way. i never thought that i would end it all, and then in one spit second of madness decide it all. decide now, at this point, end it and run away, and then think nothing at all.
last night, miles apart, together.
i wished you here, i wished myself there, i wished nothing at all.
i have missed this place, really have.
i am miles apart from myself, how could i think that i am close to you?
have missed being here with me, really have.
i have noticed my attention fragment at the slightest whisper and i have noticed myself waiver and vacillate. i forget easily, i forget the struggle much too easily, i am so drunk with it all, i am. drunk and here, that i am.
i forget the hardship, i forget the pain. i forget it all so damn quickly, how can i forget so easily? will you tell me?
but why can i not forget you? each time that i meet you, i think that you will be different this time, and then i meet you again and again through time, through space, through fiction, and there you are, always here and always so far!
i did not want a love affair, i didn't. i told you so, didn't i? perhaps i forgot, i always do forget. i even forget the love affairs. i forget all. i forget all of you. all of you.
last night, right here, miles apart, together.
i really do not know.
there is no other day like today
there is no other me like me
there is no other you like you
there is just today
there is just me
there is just you
the animal longs for the warmth of your touch and the fury of your desire
the spirit longs for the warmth of your being and the fury of your existence
i return
thinking of you all of you every single one of you.
it was just a few days ago that somebody shared a little episode of his life with me. his wife had just told him to listen to himself, and he had just said that failure was not a possibility. i looked at him, said nothing, and thought how i had once told myself that i was damned to succeed. we were talking about the need to balance paradoxes and of just being with what is present; the need of not knowing. it was a very intimate and private conversation. it does me good to have such conversations, i need those. intimate and private conversations are not personal, they are natural consequences of just being alive and authentic, they happen spontaneously.
i thought of you, and i thought of the logistics of our lives and the sheer madness of our lack of compromise. i wouldn't want anything else. just yesterday i was thinking about the thousand things that i want to share with you. i do not know if ever we will. failure here is a possibility although my wonderful ego would rather cling to it all, let go of nothing, and sell my soul in the process. we want all of it, there is nothing to sell. nothing to cling to.
just thinking of you.