We are adults.
Responsible for everything that happens to us.
Guilty for all our decisions.
Strong enough to care.
We are children.
Open and amazed by the world.
Creative, careless, playful and cruel.
Egoistical and needy.
We are observers.
It doesn’t really matter what we feel or think.
Small specks of consciousness inside monkey brains.
Everything is determined and decided by something bigger than us.
We are gods.
I see your photos and nothing.
Why do I even keep you in my feed?
I see your photos and you are my friend I’ve never met.
I see your photos and want to see the world like you do.
I see your photos and the way your body moves and stops, I want to have you.
I see your photos and see you’re lost and I can’t help it.
I see your photos and your humor is pure love.
I see your photos like empty postcards.
I see your photos and I respect you as a friend I don’t want to have.
And I see your photos.
And they fill me with guilt and regret.
I’m ashamed that I wasn’t good enough to make you fall in love. That you don’t understand me enough to laugh at me. That I miss you so much and so selfish.
I am not entitled to love you.
To be dominant. To be assertive. To be pushy.
Or whatever good or bad you want to call it.
You need to take chances. All the chances.
Be afraid to lose an opportunity and not take your chance.
Being a control freak also helps.
It means that you can see clearly how everyone around you can fuck up great opportunities.
Because you know better and you’ve fucked up so many of them.
And sometimes, just maybe, by trying too hard.