and there I lay,
thunder roaring in the distance,
the blue evening light was covering my body,
my bare skin touched the sheets
and I was so sad about
how completely alone I felt
and at the same time I was glad
that I wasn’t wasting time
with people I couldn’t stand.
things are never about you.
people only twist and turn around themselves.
the self is the center
of the self-centeredness of the world.
and I was so damn sad
and I felt so damn lost
in this world,
with no idea where to go.
so all I could do was laying still
and listening to the rain.
and again I hated myself
for not answering.
there were piles of text messages
that I could not bring myself to reply to
because I felt out of touch
and desperate for spare time to myself.
I would always try
to enhance people
and to show up deeply for them,
because it only seemed fair.
but I cannot show up for everybody
when I am losing myself.
so, as the night was getting darker,
I disconnected from everything
and just lay there
and let the world rain on me
because it gave me a sense
of being a part of it all
although I really wasn’t.
I’m not even sure I’d want to be.
I used to enjoy all these things
that I stopped doing
because I felt pressured by society
to be some-body.
I lost myself
in trying to be some-body
for every-body else.
the story that we miss to tell
is that kind people went through dark nights, too.
and they might have not gotten bitter
about what happened to them.
they might have chosen
that nobody deserves to be treated
like they were.
their endurance becomes their strenght.
they might suffer in silence,
but it doesn’t mean they don’t know exactly
who they deal with.
they choose to,
although being confronted with
what has nothing to do with them,
to uphold their mildness
and to keep their arms open,
because they are emotionally mature enough
to know that you cannot treat hate
with its own source.
I don’t think they get enough credit for it.