I am afraid of a godless life.
I'm afraid that I won't love and be loved. That life is empty. That it will be this way.That I am too special or too ordinary. That my dreams will stay only in my head. That my eclecticism will prevent me from doing things till the end. That my fascination with art and creation will fail me. That I will be too practical or too imaginative. That I won't leave my mark in this mysterious journey called life. That I will age while leading an ordinary life.
I am afraid that my country is too small for my dreams and aspiration. That the feeling that I'm missing out another life in some other corner of the globe, will never disappear. That my wanderlust desires will be always itching me.That even when I'm away, I'll be always missing home. That I'll give up anything to go back. I'm afraid that I won't be afraid anymore. That nothing will challenge me to grow. That this will be the death of me, spiritually.
I'm afraid that ink and paper won't be enough for my words. Or that my life won't be enough for them, words. That I will be too busy or too available. I'm afraid that you won't give me that smile of yours at the end of the day, the one that made me like you so much. That I'm too naive to think it will last . That I'm too pessimistic if think it won't.
I am afraid that I will be less curious, to live for today. That I will be too alive to be contained in the expectations of tomorrow. That one day it will all make perfect sense. I 'm afraid that I will use the word "perfect" in my writing, or in life in general.That I wont live between contrasts. That one day I will be balanced and content.
I'm afraid that I won't love and be loved. That life is empty. That it will be this way.That I am too special or too ordinary. That my dreams will stay only in my head. That my eclecticism will prevent me from doing things till the end. That my fascination with art and creation will fail me. That I will be too practical or too imaginative. That I won't leave my mark in this mysterious journey called life. That I will age while leading an ordinary life.
I am afraid that my country is too small for my dreams and aspiration. That the feeling that I'm missing out another life in some other corner of the globe, will never disappear. That my wanderlust desires will be always itching me.That even when I'm away, I'll be always missing home. That I'll give up anything to go back. I'm afraid that I won't be afraid anymore. That nothing will challenge me to grow. That this will be the death of me, spiritually.
I'm afraid that this text is too poetical, too factual or pretentious. I am afraid that you will be consumed by it, that will will read till the end. Because just like me, you are insecure about certain things. You are afraid to say your fears out loud to yourself, to people, to friends and loved ones. Because it's easier. It's just easier if you don't.
I'm afraid that ink and paper won't be enough for my words. Or that my life won't be enough for them, words. That I will be too busy or too available. I'm afraid that you won't give me that smile of yours at the end of the day, the one that made me like you so much. That I'm too naive to think it will last . That I'm too pessimistic if think it won't.
I am afraid that I will be less curious, to live for today. That I will be too alive to be contained in the expectations of tomorrow. That one day it will all make perfect sense. I 'm afraid that I will use the word "perfect" in my writing, or in life in general.That I wont live between contrasts. That one day I will be balanced and content.
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| painting detail by Martine Johanna |
