When it hits the fan

I’ve been thinking about it. Maybe sometimes, when it starts raining the moment you leave the house and you blame it on Murphy, or karma, or chance or fate, maybe that rain is not meant for you. Maybe you are but a collateral damaged of a rain that is meant for someone else down the road. Maybe you’re just in the wrong place at the right time, but it has nothing to do with you. 

You self-centered, egotistic little victim. 

Plants are usually kind and they need the water.

Share

I shared this for the first time today. Why..?

Because if a tree falls somewhere in the Amazonian forest and no one sees it fall, no one hears it fall and no one ever knows it fell, it is impossible to say with certainty that it really did.

This tree fell, and I know it did.

Shattered glass

Back from my childhood and into the comfort of my own solitary adulthood. After these quick visits I always have a kind of psychological hangover, I feel stupid for, momentarily, becoming childish even though it is allowed and even somewhat expected.

I went there, like always, looking for a cozy place to rest my skeleton, where I feel safe – I came back, as always, exhausted and scared of my own sad self that I fought hard to leave buried back in my parent’s back yard. 

I am back, I need to rest now, and to forget I ever went there, so that I will have the courage to want to repeat it.