Let the Good Times Roll

The best way to feel is to not feel at all. At least that’s how it seems when you’re in the deep end, gasping for air. Try as you might, there is no way to free your mind.

The rebels of the world fight for peace, holding doves above the skies of blindfolded eyes. They ask them to dream, “Do you dream?”

“I can see the way you see, but the question always is, has always been, can you see the way I see?”

Let us stop fooling ourselves, we don’t picture the world in butterflies and unicorns. The luckiest of us get away with just a bruise or two, but for the most of us it’s far more worse. Absence of heart is the way you get hurt.

So take my advice, if you want to make it out alive. Let things roll as they come and go. There is no way to control, I’m letting you know, there is no way to control. Not a person, nor a place, not your tomorrow, never your today. I can’t have what I always want, and that’s okay, I guess. On most days, when the spoiled child cranking up inside has had it’s chocolate for the day. Yes, life is tough, and we do cry over spilled milk, but please grow up. It’s time for us to step into responsibility with a sense of youth. I would never ask you to age, for God’s sake. Please, do play.

But most of all, I do pray, you fall in love with everything around you.

© Nicoletta

📷: Yosemite National Park, California

Poker Face

It takes a lot out of us. Communication. Feels like an endless battle of shape and form. This is my point of view and that one is yours, but who’s to prove what’s true. Certainly not me. In whatever way you change your perception you never know when you’re making the right move. Playing poker you’re staring straight into someone’s energy field. Their hand gestures, even the slightest twitch on their left eyebrow will hint to you a direction of play. Are they bluffing? Can we ever know? On the river, the last card is a deuce. With two twos in their hands your Queens are mucked, and all because you didn’t trust your instinct. Deep down you knew all along. You should have folded when you still had the chance. Win or lose is always the game we play.

© Nicoletta

📷: Las Vegas, Nevada

If Ever

If ever you were to fall in love with a rose, dare not pluck it. For its petals long will lose their fragrance. Sooner will its stem lose its strength. Even more, soon will its roots forget the dirt from which they came. Thorns will it shed, unable to protect itself. Wither, it will fade away. If ever you were to fall in love with a rose, still let it be. Still let it be. 

©Nicoletta

To the Self the Great Return

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You’re in a relationship, something isn’t clicking. You enjoy each other’s company, there are good days and some days, well let’s say they’re just…okay. You eat in silence, because there’s not much to talk about. Some nights you find yourself getting up and staring up at the ceiling, hoping that all the doubt you feel inside will be resolved by some kind of miracle. Divine intervention. You pray that your dreams will satisfy you, because the emptiness you feel inside is way too much to bear. There’s something missing but you can’t quite figure out what it is. You can definitely feel it. The reality of the void hits you rock bottom. The heaviness of your stomach rises like a solid to your throat, it sticks to you like a chronic cold. You’re fevering up but you still can’t find the courage to move on. Afraid to hurt yourself or is it another? Honesty is the greatest commitment. You can’t pretend to be something you never were meant to be. Nor can you fool yourself any longer. What you feel is real and moving forward is the only way to heal. You can’t drag someone else along with you. In love, we take no hostages. The only casualties that remain at the end of a battle are our own selves. We pick ourselves up and mend our wounds alone. That is the only way to find our way back home. The journey is always a long and lonely one, but in the end no matter what we will find ourselves. Just like it was in the beginning, so we find ourselves in the end. To the self the great return.

©Nicoletta

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