Thursday, October 22, 2015

I found myself in Paris. Or did Paris find me?

To sum up. Not for you.
For me - so I could get this all out. 

People won't let you change. Simple as that.
They will take you for granted, how they are used to and as they like. Trust me if I say, that they won't help you to fight with your heartbreak, anger, loss or dry inspiration. They take you as they are used to... but don't feel bad about it or let it bother you - it's just easy for them. 
But now I have lost everything. Yet, yes, I still have all the things physically. But isn't it the most horrifying feeling when you are having it all on paper but not actually owning anything? Not being OK with where you are? Am I over analysing yet this time or do I need a true and a real wake up call from, I don't know, myself? It's time to start healing. 

A week in Paris taught me a lot. About how people are people and you do, sometimes, grow apart from yourself. Let me tell you - it is totally okay. It's normal to feel alone while you have somebody next to you and it is normal to doubt in yourself, in your actions and believe me, it's even normal to make mistakes. 
I picked up my tickets already in the summer... I guess I knew that I would be in this situation and needed to get away. The Universe warned me and I went for it. I reached to the point where I'm not just cracked up but now, I'm totally broken down. I need to take my time and start building myself up. With what I want and NOT with what people expect me to do. 

The realisation didn't come to me by mysterious muse or falling in love with Paris (which of course I did) but it came to me by surprise and more... a bit... "lamish" way. We visited Pompidou center when suddenly the alarm went off and everything got quiet. The magical moment of "what now?" was in the air. And suddenly we were all sent out by the security guards. Everything happened really quickly - you see people panicking but yet trying to calm themselves down, you see them running but being so confused about how serious the situation is. I guess we all know in our guts, at least I knew, that it wasn't a "bomb action" (hopefully). But there was still that doubt. When you see people running and panicking... then you start to realise - am I going to run with them because I'm afraid of the unknown and the life I'm living seems worth fighting... Or am I actually walking because I've reached to the point where I just don't care.
I kept on walking. 
Okay, I picked up my pace a bit because they told me to. That's it. My only thought was, it's actually pretty okay - to die between famous painters would be a death worth achieving. 

After that, in the evening when everything turned out fine (I guess, we still don't know what happened but we are alive), I started to think about myself and how sensible I am. At the same time how cold hearted I can be. What? Exactly. And yet, how my soul is missing a piece or a life or a purpose. Maybe it's missing me. 
Yes, my soul is missing me. 
I started writing down some postcards and found myself in a situation I thought I'm not having (nor I ever will) - I ether live my life with not doing things I want to and I'll accept it or I at least TRY to change something so next time I would feel the urge to run when the alarm goes on. 

So sorry if you are not letting me have my change - the ways, prospectives or creative work. I know I will get slapped because I won't behave the way they want me to, but please do understand that it is for me. And you are for you. And trust me, I don't expect anything from you. 
I'm keeping my sensibility and taking life deeply (you know, it's both a curse and a blessing to feel everything so deeply). But I'm cutting the "bad-ass crap" and making others happy with my "physical" work and never-ending-giving-out emotions. 
It's not "my time" like some people like to say. It's my freaking "life" and...
I'm so young to be this tired of living. (I'm not over analysing - my every true close-one can see this.)

So hello. I'm gonna start finding my roots again, sides that make other people inspired and what inspires me, reasons why I have my tattoo and beliefs that made my success.
But it's all gonna be for me at first. 
Cause being nice is cool! 
But being nice to yourself is now necessity. 

PS: Save me from your wise words. I got this. 
No need for aggressive optimism. 

Picking up books again, looking up the ones who inspire me and shaking off the tensions that I've gained.
I found myself in Paris. Or at least... Paris found me and made me realise what I'm missing - of myself.  

No comments: