One

Here we go again, my dear K. I am sending you another song. This time it's a pop song that, for some reason, I felt like listening to. I didn't listen to it just yet as I didn't have a chance. I was rushing to get everything ready. There was a certain disquietness in my soul (and I think this is a new word I just coined) within me this morning. Somehow that good energy that flows between us wasn't there and I found myself missing it so much. It felt like something inside of me was shrinking at the speed of light.

I know you're busy. I know you're in love with me already. I know I am falling for you as well, but I am fighting against it. I am fighting exactly the same way I fight against getting wet in the rain. I fight it as I fight against numbness and boredom. I fight it as I fight against ignorance, intolerance, ugliness. Because somehow I have chosen my battles and they're small and sometimes selfish. I fight mental battles, my dear K. I fight it as I fight against the corruption of the soul, the falling into acceptance of things that can be changed.

Then I stop breathing and the light is red again. A stranger holds my hand, I feel like escaping my own body. There's no way out. I am on drugs and the pain is excruciating. I am cold and my soul is naked and it trembles far away from you.

If for a moment I stopped asking questions, would I collapse? Would I just stop existing?

One and I am alone.

Two and we are.

One. One. One. For how long could I insist on being The One Alone?

But then One in Two is an illusion

A symptom perhaps

Vertigo of two minds

I need more words. I need more blues to draw my hearts on tissue paper.

I started a new painting. Four - maybe five white hearts. They suffer from anemia. An anemic heart is a so fragile heart. So exausted. It's a jaded heart.

Go ahead and question my old habits. Question my sanity. Question my questions. Slap my face with your unfocused words. Distress me with your concerns. I don't want to be in love with you.