Music Passionate

I don’t remember the last time that I genuinely felt like myself. Somehow, I lost the spark that was within me and claiming it back seems to be harder than I thought. A rain of greyscaled hopelessness progressively washed over the places where I once found vibrant colors and happiness. I tried to stay afloat after every wave that came at me, but the drowning was imminent.

I used to care so much about you. All I ever put my effort on the last couple handful of years had your name on it. I begged and borrowed and gave all I had for that #1 on my list that made me feel alive, yet no expense was too much with the promise of a moment of clarity and truthfulness on the horizon, a peace that was truly priceless. I worked hard, and chased, and waited, and trusted… until one day I looked back and saw that the years had slipped through my fingers like sand and all I had ever gotten was disrespect. I was far off shore by then, still with no clarity and no peace within my reach. My own projects and dreams had gotten left behind, along with a few friends who got fed up with my nonsense, product of the secrets I could not tell them. Far gone was also the chance of having someone else next to me who truly cared about me, someone who respected me and valued my time. It wasn’t fair; whenever I looked over the fence I could see a prosperity that, in part, was fueled by the use of my feelings and illusions, whereas on this side I was drifting alone, empty, futureless and tired, so tired of fighting for opportunities that weren’t being given to me. My heart got so heavy with this realization that I couldn’t stop the sinking. With one last reach above the surface, I tried to send an S.O.S., which was useless at this point; nobody was listening. Finally, I gave in to the dark waters, as the hard learned lessons filled my lungs. The chaser was gone.

Much like the dawn comes after the night, I rose up from the deep. Wounded and broken, my heart begged me for the healing I hadn’t been giving to it. I quickly replaced the habit of connecting puzzle pieces from an endless game with putting my own pieces back together instead. And so I waved farewell to my days of pursuing. No more planning, no more traveling, no airport greetings or double meanings, no cabs after vans speeding on the highway, or stepping over heads against the clock for a minute of your time. All this belonged to the old me. Hitting the unfollow button was bitter, but it was a much needed breath of air. When the new album came out, I didn’t listen to it –still haven’t to this day; when my membership expired, I didn’t renew it. It was all too painful. I was a whole new person now, one that couldn’t stand being suffocated with the same disregard, miscommunication, failed encounters and unreachable, quiet complicit gazes from the distance over and over.

I don’t think I’m ready to go through the old déjà vu again. I don’t know how anything can go right at this point when all I have is a concert date and many uncertainties. I honestly can’t stand the idea of having to see you face to face again knowing we may not be able to talk, and I feel like there are a lot of assumptions on your end regarding my possibilities and my position today, so I needed to lay these things out to avoid any more misunderstandings. Whatever happens next week will define the path that I’ll choose to continue walking in life onward. Whether your name is on that path or not is not entirely in my hands. One thing I know is that when I start walking, I won’t look back.

I saw the references. I still catch them when I see them.

If there was any message for me to catch there, I don’t really know what to take and what to leave anymore… reality here doesn’t really match with what is being said. I don’t get it, you make me feel so important in your life with these things, yet I’m still here unable to speak with you, having to wait for a monthly release to hear what you have to say, along with another couple thousand people. What am I missing?

You say you’ve tried. All this technology, countless opportunities at hand to help me get somewhat closer (messages, contests, letters, you name it) always given to anyone but me. Many many times I’ve opened up only to get quickly pushed away shortly after. I don’t get it, it doesn’t make sense.

I find it difficult to take you seriously when you say one thing and do another. Life may throw obstacles at us, but it is how we choose to act upon them what speaks out loud, and you’ve made sure the world knows your choices loud and clear. Given that we don’t speak directly to each other, I have no other way of judging you than by what you put out there. Although your work is always incredibly beautiful and touching, it’s never complemented with anything else, and so the message ends there. Whatever your reasons are for not coming forward, it’s not logical to drag somebody out for this long without giving them a basic piece of clarity and directness, having to always rely on public parades to communicate anything to them. I must be missing something. How come, ten years in, we haven’t found a way to have a normal dialogue, like the grown up people we are? I think it would have made all this so much easier from the get go. For me, trying to write you directly with the means I have is a permanent losing game, first because I don’t really know how private those mediums are on your end, and second because you’re the one with a blasting inbox each day, which makes any text get easily lost among a stampede of shallow content. Same case when trying to approach you in person; I’m always at a disadvantage. It can’t be this hard to talk to somebody, it’s truly frustrating.

As much as I want to feel happy for your comeback, the ghost of past failures won’t let me find joy in this occasion. It is hard for me, after all I’ve been through, to find excitement today in a mass gathering that most likely won’t provide the privacy and respect our long overdue conversation deserves. I’ve been here before, twice, and for the first time I’m sitting at a crossroads as to whether I should show up or not. I’m terrified of laying myself on the line again, then getting back home with the old letdown of only a few glances amidst a battlefield and a “better luck next time” in my pocket. I don’t think I could take it this time. The mere promise of you coming back nine months from now doesn’t feel like it makes up for anything, as it looks like you’re still betting on the old ways, regardless of the distance you’re willing to travel. As for me going the distance… well, if we talked, you’d already know why I haven’t been (and probably won’t be for the near future) able to make that happen.

I know it hasn’t been easy for you. I try to see where you’re coming from. Now, I need you to get in my shoes for a second as well; what do you do when the person you care about has never been kind to you, despite all your efforts and time invested on them? What’s left for you to believe when the chances that you hope will head your way only pass you by? How can I hold my breath for someone who has coldly mistreated me, over and over? You know, I’ve pushed and tried a lot before I started to let go. Like someone I used to follow once said: “This kind of life I can’t afford”. I’m tired of pretending, of not being taken for serious. I really want to get over this “subliminal” phase, but I don’t know how and if it is still possible to build that bridge when I feel like I’m still pulling this chariot on my own. Just a word of acknowledgement, of comfort and light in dark and foggy times, to me and myself only, without the world in between; I’ve never really asked for too much.

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What’s going on in that mind of yours? What do you think of the current situation we live in? Are you happy? Do you go to bed at night comfortably? How big of a concern is the passing of time for you? How do you think I’m doing over here? These are some of the questions that cross my mind whenever I see another reference. I know that by now it is almost pointless to keep asking questions, knowing that they won’t be answered in the way I’d want to, but I just can’t help it. This is who I am, the one you’ve been reading for many orbits around the sun (yes, you, the only one who reads this blog); I’m not a character, I speak my mind whenever I need to, and I can’t bottle up my thoughts forever when the road looks endless from where I’m standing now, after having gone through so much already.

“Are you okay with how things are right now?”

Many times I’ve wanted to ask you that. Perhaps the answer is right there in front of my eyes every day that I wake up and don’t have a message from you in my inbox, despite you watching me from a distance all these years. Time passes, and each grain of sand that goes through the hourglass feels heavier on my shoulders, yet you seem so calm and okay with it… I can’t wrap my head around it. We’re both looking forward to a moment of conversation; the difference is that, as we get stuck in the wait, one of us has their life figured out and is pretty much settled, he has done and seen it all and has gotten a good taste of the world, whereas the other has put their best years of youth into chasing after a connection that would lead her nowhere as she’d get her heart crushed over and over, and her words used for creative fuel. Not a day goes by that I don’t fear picking up my phone and finding another piece of heartbreaking news going hand in hand with your silence. I live with that feeling every day and I can’t take it anymore.

I don’t really know if I’m getting the full picture, after all, I’ve always had to rely on guessing, so I’m aware there’s a chance I might be getting things wrong, or that I might be biased by my own wishes. Still, you’re refusing to give me clarity, whichever the case might be, and I can’t keep lending myself to that. I believe I’ve earned better treatment than this distance that I’m given. Despite your good intentions, you’re still putting this matter ahead with fixed dates, as if I was a project rather than a person who is asking for some compassion, as if tomorrow was guaranteed and so was my patience and ability to hang on without falling apart.

I’m sorry, but I can’t bear the pain all this is causing me any longer. I can’t make it to the next fixed date and not break apart in the process. It’s been too many years, I’ve put too much effort, and I keep falling like a fool, always ending up in tears, disappointment and empty hands. If only you knew the things I’ve missed in life only to prioritize this connection, the things I’ve skipped, and lost, and postponed… I understand you may have your own reasons not to talk to me directly; I see your fears and concerns, but your decisions, your actions and your indifference, they are killing me. I honestly don’t know what else to do to shorten this gap, I’ve tried everything in my power, and I feel more helpless and hopeless than ever. Maybe it’s time for me to let go…for good, and have a bit of self-love before I end up completely broken in pieces. The dagger has cut too deep into my chest this time.

How Can I Have Hope? : A Dedicated Post

How can I have hope if I keep losing my bets despite my best efforts? How can I have hope when injustice is the victor of all my battles? How can I have hope when fear has always spoken louder than courage and structured facades keep overshadowing my chances to reach out?

It is alluring to hold on to a draining situation when the promise of a better future looks so bright. 19-year-old me would surely be hopeful if presented with a hint of color during such grey times, but present-me is someone different, someone who has built up callouses in her skin and soul due to the lessons from the past. Perspective is crucial when it comes to understanding others, and I think I’ve tried hard throughout the years to get better at that and to give my fair share of understanding in complicated situations, yet to this day none of that effort has paid off fairly. If you asked me what can I say about my point of view, I’d tell you that today I see the same things I’ve been seeing since before the beginning of this blog, and even its older predecessor: I see pretty pictures and word-play trying to make up for the damage caused by reality and distance –a distance that can be measured in a number of unspoken words rather than miles− as if a band-aid could heal a stab wound; I see countless illusions that never get to materialize; a girl with a blank page and the same old sorrow, always behind the screen, begging, hoping; I see nine years of heartbreak, confusion and struggle, crowned with the arrival of the new decade, the obligatory pause carrying the unexpected, the mighty rock that, once more, fell in the way of a tired fighter and crushed any trace of hope that was left within her, and latent, still, the ever cruel inability to talk to the one who may be reading this now, subject to an eternal postponement. My apologies for not having been showing up very often, but smiling for a picture has been feeling like a big challenge for me.

After such a bitter year, the goal of conversation has only been reinforced… but how can I have hope for a conversation when a direct word to each other still seems impossible to this day? How can I have hope for transparency when we still rely on guessing and hiding behind a melody as our only resource of communication? How can I have hope for a kinder future if the past has barely shown any mercy? No matter how many times we cross paths in this life, saying anything other than ‘hello’ without a filter is like trying to move a mountain when we still act like strangers to the eyes of the world, as well as our own. 

Today, I need your truth more than ever; I need to understand you to silence this one-sided inner monologue in my mind that each day pushes me further and further into giving up on this; I need to hear your words without everyone else having to hear them too and me having to decode them; I need the clarity and peace that have been denied to me all these years, for I’ve been struggling for more than I can recall, while the rest were living… But as long as I can’t have that, after all I’ve given of me; as long as things remain as unreachable as they’ve been for the past decade, with or without pandemic, please…don’t expect me to hold on anymore. Swimming against the tide all these years has gotten me exhausted, and yet, I keep getting hurt over and over, as I wonder to myself what else can I give that I already haven’t to make a difference. Holding on today would imply to keep embracing the duality that hurts me without care, it would make me keep sharing my identity with the subliminal and giving away my illusions for breadcrumbs in return. Holding on would mean to keep pretending that everything’s alright as I keep taking punches to my face and seeing how others rejoice with my losses, it would mean to accept to still be treated like just another face in the crowd after all we’ve been through in silence. Today, holding on would keep opening up a wound that already needs to heal desperately.

I really hope this post isn’t hitting you at the wrong time, it’s not my intention to cause any more trouble or pain than there is already, but I just can’t keep going on without letting you know my truth and how I really feel about the present. These “in the meantime” moments that have been going on for years have dimmed my light and I’m not strong enough to endure them the same way I used to any longer, and the slope just seems to keep getting even steeper. We need to change our ways before we can begin looking at an horizon, starting small, taking baby steps towards communication with a more mature approach. I know that you have a lot going on on your end at the moment; I understand, and I respect it. I’m not compelling you to do or change anything right now, but I need you to understand that I can’t keep following through the references and anything you do, as long as it takes us nowhere near change. You should know that this doesn’t mean that I’ve stopped caring or anything like that, quite the opposite, I still care, more than you can imagine, and I want you to know that you can still trust me if you ever feel ready to break this wall in between us −be assured that I would be the happiest woman on Earth if maybe, just maybe, you could someday build a bridge for me and make it easier to reach out.

It sure has been a long and bumpy ride that deserves no less than a proper conversation in person −in a world that is currently not very permissive, I find myself once again placing one last bet, fighting against all the odds and my own personal resistance and hopelessness, looking for ways to go the distance (both metaphorically and literally speaking) to try to make that come true as soon as time allows− but that conversation needs to begin somewhere, someday, with more than just reading between the lines and hoping one day the ice will break on its own, otherwise the impossible will always prevail. Until then… I can only pray for hope.

To The Friends I Once Trusted

It’s been a while; at least two winters since the last time we saw each other’s faces. Our last verbal exchange, if any, wasn’t precisely the best and ever since, I’ve been writing this letter in my head, trying to give shape to my messy ideas and monumentally failing at it. I can’t promise a neat text this time but at least I can provide some closure.

I’m writing tonight because I feel like we haven’t been on the same page for a while, and I’ve been wracking my brains trying to find a way to tell you how I’ve been feeling lately, since it wouldn’t be fair to keep it all for myself.

Pain does not know of time or patience. I believe I’ve fought long enough before I gave in to the words of this open letter, my very last resource, the last beam of hope for a change. I truly apologize if you feel this is too bold to express via these means; I personally think that too, but the need to express myself has outgrown any sense of discretion in me, and past experiences have proven me that I have no other choice when it comes to communicating with you, anyways.

Here’s the thing: I’m not okay. I’m really, honestly, legitimately, truly not okay, and you play a big part in that. I’ve endured the sorrow that comes with confusion for too long and now my feet are finally touching the ground, the very bottom. I can’t sink any more than this. Patience, empathy and understanding are some of my best qualities, but I don’t feel reciprocated at all in regards to them. I feel like you’re not really seeing how much emotional damage this situation keeps causing me every handful of years. Whatever this has become, I don’t want it anymore, not like this where you’re the only one who keeps benefiting from it, while I’m over here trying not to get mad in the process. I have reached the point of absolute saturation and can no longer see the good in it all. We’ve been running on this treadmill for more than half a decade and now I can’t find the strength or motivation to keep going anymore. I’ve been emptied out.  Sore muscles are all I’ve ever gotten while others won’t stop rejoicing with their ongoing blessings, and I believe it’s about time I chase my own blessings too before I realize it’s too late.

I’ve seen the best years of my life pass right in front of me while I just waited for you to reach out, to clear up the misconceptions, to care about how it must feel on this side to not have an answer —and I’m talking about a real one, not some single-sentence hint every other week. I told you that we needed to talk and you didn’t listen, or perhaps you didn’t want to. You’re not meeting me halfway. I see your efforts to approach, but your plans always include everyone else, and the fight against that is a certain fail.

You must probably think that I’m giving up without trying, that I’ve wasted my time complaining and not doing anything to go chase after you to try to clear things up. Believe me when I say that I’ve tried my absolute best to get there, and if I haven’t moved too far, it is ‘cause that’s as far as my possibilities go at the moment. For years I’ve tried to look for ways to improve my economic situation –because, let’s be honest, it is impossible to achieve anything with a thin wallet− and after a long, long way up, things are finally starting to get better on my side. Yet, it all doesn’t matter anymore, because I’m already too tarnished to keep trying with you. I really don’t feel like going after an answer anymore, especially after some repetitive events that have given me nothing but disappointment and devastation.

No matter how many plans you have for the future, I am so torn, so pissed and broken from all these years that I feel like I can’t look at you in the face anymore; the stream of tears that arise every time I think of you are the proof. I can’t listen to you repeat the same things, the same promises, over and over, like I haven’t heard it before, and then see you do the opposite. It drives me crazy. I’m sorry, I really am, but I need to protect my soul from any more damage, because no one else will.

That being said, I’m taking a step from this game. It has taken a lot from me already and I don’t want to lose any more. We’ve known each other –in a very strange way− for years and I know you will understand. What I can’t understand to this day is why you, having many more resources and chances than me, never took a chance to even approach. That is still a mystery to me.

Maybe, just maybe, life will one day give us a chance to meet and talk properly, like we deserve. For now, I wish you all the best in your ever fruitful journey.

Best regards,

 - Your Online Friend.