Divided

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My 5 year young niece made this for me the other day and I was a bit surprised. I’ve never told her how I feel, yet she knew my heart is divided, as it is my home. Home is London but it’s also Cluj. I am me but also my self. Realising now the empathy of a 5 year old is stronger than any therapist’s. They don’t even ask questions, they just feel you.

#therapy

Not going to write too much about it, because I’ve just started it, but what’s funny is that I can already blame it on communism. It was in those days that I was born, and because of the communism, my mom had to go back to work when I was only 3 months old. And when I say had to – it was mandatory. She was working 6 days a week. The mother – child bonding was interrupted when it was mostly needed, leaving me with this lack of attention and care that now gives me no option but to learn how to parent myself.

Give yourself love, you need it. No one else is going to be your parent, stop thinking it should be your partner. No partner, no problem. This journey’s going to be easy peasy! It’s not going to be a selfish one, but it is going to bring me back to myself.

Love to all of you out there looking for it!

J.L. Borges said it better, anyway:

“After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t mean security.
And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises,
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,
And you learn to build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After a while you learn…
That even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure…
That you really are strong
And you really do have worth…
And you learn and learn…
With every good-bye you learn.”
Jorge Luis Borges

 

*chapter 5, where I fail

Also looking for the best X-rays of dreams in all formats, color and black-and-white. Successfully photographed memories, to be considered for airing on TV networks, paid extra. (Milorad Pavic, Landscape painted with tea)

no one said anything, it was just a step dance underground; and as we flew towards the day, our shadows were fading.

there was coffee all over the floor, broken glass, broken china and I was all scratched.
Some fingers were pointing at my dirty-smelly-coffee stained-dress and I knew that there was dust all over me and I had a red face.
Grab it with your hands said the sand therapist
then write your poems with your toes at the sea side and hope for the best. You have yet to finish all those books you started to read years ago and give those voices to the characters you’ve been thinking about in your dreams

I wish I could use my camera when dreaming, I’m sure I would remember everything easier.

 

#love series -2

we all started out life whole and vital, eager for life’s adventures, but we all had a perilous pilgrimage through childhood. In fact, some wounding took place in the first few months of our lives. Think for a moment about the ceaseless demands of an infant. When an infant wakes up in the morning, it cries to be fed. (…) It signals distress the only way it knows – with an undiferentiated cry – and if the caretakers are perceptive enough, the infant is fed, changed, held and experiences momentary satisfaction. But if the caretakers can’t figure out what is wrong or if they withhold their attention for fear of spoiling the baby, the child experiences a primitive anxiety: the world is not a safe place. (H. Hendrix, Getting the love you want)

the world is now a safe place but sometimes the world is not a safe place here comes my love of books hiding in the attic reading the never ending story Bastian Batlhasar Bux