Prayer for tonight

wishing on a start by a window

I have a very heavy heart today. Right now, as I sit by my window and the wind blows through my incredibly wet hair, I feel a burden weighing me down. What do I tell you? I have no words you haven’t heard before.


Sometimes, the only way to move forward is to kill that part of you, remove the part so heavy. What a sad move. Little by little you cut away the gangrenous parts and what remains at the end…well I dread to think about it. The hard, callous shell of a person you used to be. How sad, how cliche.

The moon that usually shines right though my window is not around today. It is all dark and I am lying awake, hoping the wind would blow the load away, before another part of me dies, and dies again. Hoping I wouldn’t have to age for one night, wouldn’t have to disintegrate for one day.

So I close my eyes, remembering myself and everyone as I know right now. And I pray, with eyes tightly shut , that tomorrow as the sun shines onto me, I remain the same as I am today.


I am an Hsp (yeah, google it)


I am sitting in front of my cooler in my tiny room, I have the same heart I’ve had, the same feelings, the same attitude. No matter how much I try to change, at the end of the day it’s all the same. Except the intensity has changed. Dislike, hate, go away. Love, test, a hundred chances, over.

Everything is damn fast, man. We don’t wait or absorb a single thing. The moment I start talking about something everyone comes up with their story and I shut up half way through. It’s not always the secrets and the feelings one shares. You start talking about a dream you had last night and before you get to the end people around you have told fifty thousand of their own, so I just shut up and be the person I am good at being. Listen and nod and make a few comments. Yeah I give good advice by the way.. I know friendship is not a game, it’s not a you say I listen I listen you say tv show. But it’s not a joke either..

It’s the same with picking at each other, say one thing and the other returns the favour by adding a jillion spices of their own. Not caring we are friends not foes.. oh I gotta say what I gotta say. 

It’s the same, like watching a friend treat you so low. Like one in the crowd. Hell I treat strangers better. But that sting you feel when the things your friend shares with you are not the special things anymore. It’s already on the media. God, When did I get so stupid..

But it’s okay. Life is crazy. I like my problems. I even like the people who created them. But there is one little thing I let afloat tonight.. If you can’t hold on to me.. if you can’t be there for me.. if you can’t take it all the way.. don’t call me your best friend..don’t even try to be my friend..and stay the heck away from me..

Just stay the heck away from me..


In the corner, into night

(I found this in a lost folder in my computer, I guess I wrote at night after some party or wedding ceremony)

There always are these eerie feelings. They have been there. And they shall remain

And I sit here. Again. As the slightest of the prick finally blows me apart. Again. Been fighting all day. But in the low hours I cease to be what I tend to become. So I just fall back. Let my hair loose. Let them fall free and wild on my shoulders and I retire to face the corner of my bed. Time to just, let go

I remember the pendant I wore. Black. All set with stones. Beautiful. Lying heavily around my neck. I just want to say what I want to say. And I know, there is that opening in me, from where vibrations or feelings enter or leave. I just pick them up. Or let them leave my world. My body, my existence

And I have truly nothing to say. There are just these feelings that inhabit me. I cannot put down what I feel because this pain is rooted so deeply in me that at the end of the day it will, it will force me to repay for all the happiness and laughter of the day. It will make me curl in my bed and call people long dead and places long left.

This does not mean I am weak. This does not portray that I am falling apart. This is just a part necessary for my survival. I am what pain and happiness make me. The stages in between ends up making me.. one of the crowd
Maybe that is the place where I belong. Maybe someday I will not be left alone here. Maybe someday someone will keep me away from crowds. Or stay as I sway with the suffocation burning my lungs away

I am not waiting. I am not yearning. I don’t possess such feelings anymore. I have left and I will never come back. I will not be and I don’t want to be pursued

You know, this time I mean it…

They say to watch what you do because the past will come back and haunt you

“Terror is an acute and pronounced form of fear. It is an overwhelming sense of immediate personal danger. It can also be caused by perceiving the object of a phobia. Terror may overwhelm a person to the point of making irrational choices and atypical behaviour. Paranoia is a term used to describe a psychosis of fear. It is experienced as long-standing feelings and perceptions of being persecuted. Paranoia is an extreme emotional state combined with cognitions or, more specifically, delusions that one is in danger. This degree of fear may indicate that a person has changed his or her normal behavior in extreme or maladaptive ways.”

I can feel my eyes. Dropping eyelids shutting the light away. I can feel the tautness in the muscles of my face. My back is stiff. My arms pain.

And fear is in my heart. Yet I am here to embrace it. I am here to embrace the fear following me since my childhood. I summoned it finally. It had been following me ever since but… from behind the curtains. I had done something. I had let the monster in.

Shall I even call it a monster? I don’t who it is or what it is. I only know it fills my soul with terror. Horror grips every fibre of my body, and I gulp air. I know when I first saw it. It was dark, I was in a transition state. Asleep yet awake. I felt it. I felt it there. Watching me. Waiting me to sleep so it could drink my blood.

I woke up next day. It was a dream. A silly dream. My nine-year old young mind dismissed the very idea of its truth. It never happened.

But then I grew up

With everyday passing. The realities became known to me. I was special. There was something in me that separated me from others. I protected my abilities. Never penetrated them myself. My life became caught in other problems. I even forgot my childhood, my past. my old self. I stopped remembering. Breaking and mending I went on, never saw backwards.

They say whoever looks back becomes of stone. One day my shell broke. I freed myself from the chains of lies and deceit. Once again, I retreated to search my own soul, my own self

And the monster returned

I don’t know what I did. But he crossed the boundaries and entered my home. I can feel him now. I can feel him watching me from his black, cold eyes. I can feel him smiling that menacing smile as he knows I acknowledge his presence. When I sleep I can feel him staring from my back at the light issuing from my cellphone. I almost expect him to pass his triangular, pointed fingers over my face. I can see him sulking in the kitchen as I get up to drink water at midnight. I expect him to float and whisper in my ear… I am back Eustacia…back again  to take you away…

I clutch my amulet. The name of Almighty wrung around my neck. My dad gave me when he saw me terrified of myself one night. But it is something I have to overcome myself. He is waiting for something, the right time to pounce, the right time to quench his thirst, The chance he lost nine years ago..

I close my eyes and take a shuddering breath. He is still around in my house. He’ll disappear in the morning and I will feel the walls of my house free of some taut pressure. I surrender to my brain and I drift away. Waking up next day in a strangely lighter air.

But oh, the night will come again