And the darkness explodes, pours dark tar over a pure heart, slowing down my rhythm of life with an odor of ugly decay. Gives me that feeling I don’t want to feel, gives me that sensation I don’t want to sense, gives me that touch where I don’t want to be touched.
And those claws out of shadows that once were my friends hold on to the heart-ish loving thing in my chest, scratching, clinging, limiting, stretching to make space for all the things I should feel just to compress and twist and turn so all the things I want to feel drench out and fall apart, leaving oily stains and spots wherever my tears drop.
Fears holding on to my air tubes, plays along with that foolish heart of mine, cramping and twitch and twist in all directions but none. There it sits, holding on to my lungs with invisible fingers, cold as ice streaking my cheeks, reminding me of the emptiness rising from my choice’s consequences.
Out of sudden the stillness is not my friend anymore, no, it suffocates the sprouting seeds of happiness I’m meant to harvest, darkens the spare beams of sunshine meant to enlighten my soul when it’s dark outside, postpones the forecast of crystal-clear-thoughts to ponder to announce endless mind-loops in ever lasting reputation.
And then the sadness creeps back inside, lingers in between my ribs, hiding in the bottom of my lungs as deep for me to breathe it out, holds on to my throat just in case it will be choking me again. Fears lingering at the boundaries of my consciousness. Can you feel it?
The tears remain. Are they a weakness? Is my emotionality a lack of strength, are my feelings a crack in a shell that opens up parts of that should remain unseen? Does my fear mean I can’t handle what I have to face? Am I too vulnerable with all my love-ish, cry-ish and laughing-ish idiosyncrasy? Is it my stupid heart on the tip of my tongue what entices the tears, what calls the love where pleasure never comes without the pain, what seduces the terror to make itself a cave of darkness in my chest? Is it my core that makes me feel, hurt, cry, that makes me fear?
I fear not having a home, yet I am nomadic.
I fear not having security, yet I left Germany.
I fear not having enough, yet I am my own boss.
I fear distance from my loved ones, yet I live far away from them.
I fear being alone, yet I chose an older partner.
Because we live now. Now I make my home everywhere I go. Now I give myself a sense of security coming from within, not without. Now I have enough to live the life I want to live. Now I make the choices that keep close ones close. Now I am blessed with a type of love only few are ever allowed to experience. It’s now – not yesterday, and not tomorrow.
What else are emotions than energy in motion?
Fear and bravery are pretty much the same. Both find their origin in the same source centered in between polarities, and you choose the direction you take. One makes you a coward, the other one a warrior.