On this rainy night, at this precise moment
I begin to lose focus and feel deep anxiety about life,
How I would like to get out of my own thoughts.
In these moments of finding myself unfocused, I wish I could become rain, a drop of water that falls from the clouds and impacts on her arms, on her hands.
I would like to be a blue drop that falls at the root of her hair, of her thoughts, and begin to slide down her face until it reaches her lips and from there, to be received by her tongue, to enter deep inside and become one.
I would like to be that blue drop that reaches her chest, close to her heart. Or better yet, to stay at the root of her thoughts, to be part of them, to be able to be love, to be desire, to be a dream, to be a future.
I would like to stay there, to disintegrate there to stop feeling unfocused in this life.
But I cannot, it is impossible.
I am not part of their thoughts, not in the way I want to be.
And then things change,
You realize that you can transform your feeling, your thinking.
The thing changes because you can continue to share without needing it.
You don’t want to be consumed by your own longing.
You can’t fill yourself with false hopes.
And at this point you just think about the mere existence of both of them, you consider that alone is enough, that alone is more than enough.
And you begin to see the world differently. You value the existence of each person without the need to need.
And it no longer hurts you outside, it no longer hurts the absences. You learn to give space and leave memories.
And you think of that person you love so much.
And you manage to love at a distance, without the need for kisses, without the need for claims, without needing it.
You love that person in his totality, in his existence.
And when you achieve that, you transform into the air, into a cloud, into a diaphanous flight of some bluebird.
You breathe clear blue.
You understand your freedom and your capacity. You know that you love in the purest way in which you can love, without caring about its correspondence, because it does not affect you.
You come back to yourself, you write a little, you begin to focus, you feel clear, understood. You understand yourself as a clear image, maybe a little blue, with blue brushstrokes, but you like it because that’s who you are.
You understand yourself as the diverse range of blues that make up your body, your being, your thought. Cold blue, calm blue, distant blue, and sky blue. Saturated? desaturated? light blue or dark blue?
And when you think of yourself as a color, the only thing you want is to stamp yourself against a 5 x 5-meter canvas, to become a blue drop again.
You ask nothing, you are worth as an image, people feel connected by what they see on the canvas and begin to want to become everything you once were.