Saturday, 7 March 2026

wrote you a letter

I wanted desperately to get into your head, barge in, overstay my welcome… Be a fly on your wall, hear your thoughts up close, hoping my name would be there.

For some reason I thought that I would be there. Maybe I was, maybe I am. ( Maybe I’m not, for sure I am not- something whispers in my mind).

Were you trying to talk through to me all of this time? Through the images and the songs and the questions and the always surprising and exciting times you would reach out, out of nowhere. Did I not see it? Did I not understand? Was I blind? Or am I just delusional, am I just delusional to even think of this possibility?

Deep down I know, I know you opened a crack of your window to let me in, I just felt too big to squeeze through with the baggage, so I turned away back to the dark.

I have so many questions.

Is this limerence? Is this something? Are these invisible lines pushing and pulling?

Have you heard of the red string theory? Somewhat and somehow, I think they may be pulling us together and apart and together and apart, waiting for the right time for us to cross…

chaos in my stars

I’m afraid I’m living too fast
I’m afraid I’m not living at all
Sun rises and sun sets
And it seems like the same as before
Days go by as my eyes blink
Thousands of times, thousands of days
Sun rises and sun sets
And I’m not living at all

It’s dark, it’s always dark
It’s the space between rising and setting
It’s falling.
I’m falling out of line
Out of course
Out of life.
Stuck. Grasping at nothing to hold.
Stuck in the night, slipping through the stars
I’m afraid I’m living too fast

Days wear off quickly
Nights burn out even faster.
I feel myself wearing off, burning down
I’m afraid I’m living too fast
I’m afraid I’m not living at all...