cordotomy

what if it’s not meant for me?

i can see the light in the future. Not here, not now. Ahead. Far ahead, even. I know it’s there. I can taste it - like a cupcake with pink and blue icing. Along with a blue-coloured fresh soft drink. They’re there. Like the aqua curtains, I tried to switch to their “correct” angle every time.

like the kitchen where the sports gear would have to be separated from the normal clothing. Where Uncle Ben’s rice would be cooked in the microwave and shared on a small kitchen island. When we didn’t order.

the F coffee is the best, warming, soothing drink you can have in the morning - I’m glad the world doesn’t know about this secret of mine (yours).

i believed. I still do - strangely enough. It’s interesting (and heartbreaking) how things can constantly morph into the same thing… never still, always tumultuous - and yet, strangely familiar and cosy.

cosy. cosy. cosy. it’s one of my synonyms for “home”. Home is wherever and whenever cosy happens.

long naps near a heartbeat that I recognise - I never heard it beat any different. It’s the background sound of my existence and I hate that it is a fact and not just a want… or both, really.

i walk to the window and lose fear of the characters I see - a dog in the lap of a girl cycling around. I’m OK now because I have you around.

what is there left after a dark hole is filled and then emptied again? Do you use the same method to fill it up again or is there another secret ingredient I’m not aware of? Preferably a more permanent solution.

there are signs, there is light - in the future.

i need the light now… or a ray that can come from the future and gently touch me from far away… just to show me that it’s there. To let it be true. A knowing. Not just a belief. Personally beliefs are too weak, never enough.

a hater of doubts that exists in a permanent question mark, jumping on the dot over and over and over again in surprise (positive) and shock (negative) but that has been now visiting the exclamation one - one that is stronger, for better or worse. For now… it’s not for the best.

hopefully, the ray of light from the sun can reach over here and illuminate the letters, the characters, the aqua curtains and the Uncle Ben’s rice.

a cupcake can’t be without the pink and blue sugar icing… there’s no such thing. And it also needs the blue Maine.

always. forever. it’s home.

you are home.