muses

When the desire of creation comes, you have to follow it.

I'm not sure what originates it.

Sometimes I do think muses exist.

I don't know from where do mine come from.

Maybe, from wanting to say something to someone, and not being able to say it directly.

No. That's not even how it works. But there is always an ideal interlocutor. That which you make up in your head. That one, rather, that grows in your heart, or the stomach, which is where I grow everything, through where I fall in love.

I feel that I stopped writing because for some time now my muses are speaking to me in English, and I was hesitant to the idea.

Another thing is that, lately, I've been obsessed with the idea of balance. "Lately," as in the last probably 4 years. Isn't it excessive? I just don't want to let myself go because I believe –maybe not anymore, maybe I've changed, maybe I can trust myself again?– that my intuition is not reliable. And do you know what happens when it's not yourself anymore the one making the decisions? You start asking everyone. When you are unsure of yourself, you start calculating every outcome, so people is comfortable, maybe then you are only moderately happy, but that's ok, as long as noone gets hurt.

The issue with balance is that it's not really my nature. I like contrasts. I like clear reactions. The in-the-middleness infuriates me. It really does. So I feel that when I started taking that non-position over life I just ended up blocking myself.

And, also, l-o-v-e.

I've spend so much time feeling sorry for myself, for the fact that I'm –again– in love, without being loved in return, because how many more times am I going to do it like this? I feel ashamed. Like I should know better. Like I should be mature about it, and not be loving people that doesn't love me. Don't I know what I deserve? Everyone talks to me about deserving someone. What I deserve. I should be looking for a person who wants a relationship, who wants to make babies with me, because that's what I want. 

I'm sorry. But what I want, for the moment, seems exhausting. First of all, because apparently I'm not good at falling in love with the right person. And when I think that I have to change how I am attracted to men, I want to give up immediately.

So, no.

Just let me let things go. Let love do what it does. Let it serve as an inspiration, until I have enough of it. Until I find someone equally marvellous. Because, for better or for worse, this is the only time I'm going to be in love with him. Then, it's going to be gone, and it will be just another vague story that I can't clearly recall anymore.

What I want is to simply live the experience, without guilt or thoughts that it should be different.

THAT I have learned. That we only have the now. And you decide to experience it or hold back.