i resent

resentment! what a strange word in my vocabulary it is. it is a foreign word in this vocabulary of mine. here in the place of horses and egos, my resentment has found a home.

i talked with you yesterday, you called, i answered, we both had no time. we connected. i feel naive and humbled. i am tasting sadness like i have never tasted sadness before. you told me about your back and your kidneys, and i told you about that secret that i keep hidden in plain sight, my pain.

i resent that she never took action to touch me. i do not resent being ignored.

it is strange that time and again you appear in my life to comfort me. you are a muse, you are inspiration, and you are imperfection itself.

are my sadness and pain the expression of my resentment? i do not resent not being acknowledged.

how can i tell you that it was not in the arms of another but in his arms i found that warmth that i dreamt could exist? when he found me i had so much resigned to my own solitude. now i need you the muse, and i need him the one of my one, his own.

i resent the deception. i see the suffering. i find myself powerless. i can only observe. but do i feel? do i care? i resent.

it is time

i have looked for you everywhere and it could well be that instead of looking, i ought to have been listening. you and i go a long long way in that we were born together, and together we will move on to eternity. yes you, i am talking to you. talking, writing, thinking with you: me.

not long ago you wrote to one of your best friends, you wrote to that one with whom you have decided to share all without really needing to share anything. when you thought about it a bit more, then you realised that the need was there after all. the need that was there was that of being just one. what you have been looking for all along has been your own integrity, and you have been looking for it as though it was a foreign abstract idolatry.

not long ago you listened to me. not long ago you finally saw me. the sight of me leaves you uncomfortable, does it not?

you are totally surprised, if for nothing else because you could not imagine that it would be so easy. i have been here all along, and all the discomfort and trials are part of it all.

you have cursed biology and all of science, and above all you have questioned it all. you are pretty sure that apples fall to the ground, and you are pretty sure that Newton claims to have called that the effect of gravity, but after that, what is it that we know?

welcome to my adventure...

vertigo

flirting is to me a wonderful gift, it is respectful, it soothes the ego and it promises absolutely nothing while opening up a world of possibilities and exciting the imagination. for the storyteller whom i am, you were more than a loving and dedicated teacher last week, you are a gift of the universe. the right one at the right time, at the right place. how can i thank the universe? i thank you. flirting is like going to the museum, you admire the art, you imagine what it would be like to have a Rembrandt in your living room, and then you don't touch, you don't take it home, and you do not possess. beings, human beings are art. the philosopher in me would love to expound on being human and being art, and the human being in me has had its curiosity aroused: what is it like to explore experiencing that being who calls himself by an angel's name? and the other wrote: "he, now the third man in this one episode, he is neither swiss nor japanese, he has neither blue eyes nor a long time relationship with me, he is also not the man of my dreams. he entered my radar a few years ago although i can not quite recall the exact time and date. the first time i saw him on the tatami, i knew that i had more than just another technically brilliant human in front of me. he impressed me then, and then i proceeded to forget his existence until last week. he shows up last week, more through my own utter oblivion than any sort of fathomable intentionality or rationality. last week, he shows up with several faces, the one of the master, another the loving teacher, and still another of the flirt. my ego has been ever so enthralled with the flirt, any flirt, and i am left with the answer to all my questions: i don't know. nothing has to happen, anything is possible, be ready for all, do nothing." being myself is doing nothing.