I woke up at 4:44am. Early morning thoughts are the deepest.

Burned, Broken, Barricaded Bridge
Oh goodness, goodness...
What have you become?

This time the tension melts your calm- palms sticky, shaking, sweating.
You attempt to reinvent yourself, adapting, yet remaining inept.
You struggle, but still you grow, if only little by little.
You learn, all the things you thought you knew are minuscule, misaligned, meaningless.

This hesitation-filled two-foot space that your feet currently occupy is shrinking.
Where will you go this time?
The lone escape is a burned and broken bridge that you have barricaded up.
Afraid of those who would enter
Afraid of your own vulnerability
Afraid to lose
Afraid, afraid, afraid...
You've blocked it up and this fear has gotten the best of you.

"Rebuilding costs too much," you say, but damn it! where else will you go?
So it's time to start this slow-paced process, laying one brick at a time.
Reconstructing this bridge to your soul and heart,
Making truth rise from the ashes of the lies you've told,
Making good on your promise to live Unabandoned.

Burned, Broken, Barricaded Bridge
Oh goodness, goodness...
Look what you could become.

Basta...

Non so perche' e non volgio sentirmi cosi. Ma io penso che il mio cuore abbia deciso ed io non posso fermarlo. E' vero, io pago un prezzo per te ma non riesco a vincere oppure capire. In questo momento, la mia mente e' piena dei pensieri di te. Allora, io non posso stare in piedi, queste cose mi trascinano in terra.. proprio il contario. Un mucchio di merda su questi sentimenti. Un mucchio di merda su questi pensieri. Io devo dimenticarli oppure io perdero' tutto. Loro non potranno capirlo ma non me ne frega. D'ora in poi, questi sentimenti e pensieri sono persi per sempre. E' un amore non corrispoto, lo so. Le cose che amo di te sono nascoste dentro di me e loro rimarranno li'.Allora, Basta.
BASTA.

Belief is a beautiful armor that makes for the heaviest sword...

I love time for personal introspection, especially among a crowd of clattering people or in a quieter mix of coffee shop noises and hushed chatter of small talk. There is something strangely appealing in being able to remove myself from the noise and step back from it all. To look inside and see a quiet peace that all the bustle of the world cannot touch.

I love to think about other people, how they are doing, what I would ask them if they sat across from me. I wonder if they want someone to talk with, no matter the subject big or small, hugely important or seemingly minuscule. I never tire of hearing people talk about their lives, their thoughts, their secret hopes and dreams, and their more public life goals.

I love to listen to people vent. People need that sometimes.

I love to see people smile. I smile when I see it.

I love to hear people laugh. There is just something so beautifully whole about laughter.

I don’t mind seeing people cry. I never quite know what to do in this situation, but I find for me a hug and a person willing to listen is invaluable. And once the tears stop, the words will begin and healing will come, in time.

Le lacrime puliscono l’anima. L’onestà intreccia I cuori fragili. Non c’e’ niente piu’ bello delle amicizie autentiche, durature, intime.

Just getting to know people on a deeper level brings me immense joy. I am growing tired of the superficial friendships that only generate two minute conversations on weather. I want more. I think people want more too, but they are just afraid of what others think, of judgment, of abandonment…and well, quite frankly, so am I. Yet, I am willing to put that aside this time, because I believe we can become more than this.

Oh these tricky things, these matters of the heart.

We seek reason where it doesn’t exist. Everyone that has ever felt something knows the heart tells you things your mind finds foolish. We try to find a way to fill the empty space that has crept up, that only that one person can fill, but currently they don’t. It remains vacant. The emptiness stares back at you, and you find yourself at a loss for words. Not because you don’t want to say anything- you do, but because you are afraid those words will be left unreciprocated, that things will change, that friendships will dissolve. This internal struggle is exhausting, but you can’t just leave it in limbo. You tried that. It didn’t work. It came back to haunt you, stronger still. The next time just might kill you. So now you are left in a place no better than where you started, in fact it might be worse. But still you repress and repress, and discover something about yourself. Maybe when it comes to this, you can’t be honest, a quality you claim to posses. Maybe it is better to leave this unsaid. This time, the risk is too great and frankly… I‘m unwilling.