The calm before the Storm..Life between the real and the unreal.

I pick up my phone to start writing, for the past week, everytime my thoughts stop.

It’s amazing how much a person could have inside and then be unable to express.

Thinking about where can I start, what do I write, what will change if I do?

I pick up my phone again ,this time to call a friend back home. It’s wonderful how much healing love and listening can bring to our tired souls.

The conversation started with daily chat, then escalated to end up both crying. I am someone who is old fashioned in certain areas and criticizes this modern world we live in. I deeply wish sometimes I was born in a different era where communication was done from balcony to the other. However if there is one thing this technology has succeeded in giving, is being able to share tears at the same time in two different parts of the world.

I’ve been wanting to cry for a while , and was unable to. As if even though this is the hardest time where my feelings are out of my control,as much as I find myself sitting on my sofa during the day, just being angry. I only feel anger. And behind that I find many hidden feelings which Im unable to connect to. Suddenly this tiny rope to my heart got disconnected and is no longer transmitting.

Today, I was happy I was able to cry…

And today, I was happy to have a distant friend who is able to help me through my own emotions.

I have been trying therapy for a while, however everytime I feel it is failing me. I do believe in therapy, and I believe that it was helping in certain areas, there is just one thing it wasn’t helping with, changing the reality.

I wouldn’t want to seem so greedy, I have complete conviction in fate. However there is just one rebellious part of me which is being suppressed by life, and Im unable to change reality.

And with that I find myself running in circles thinking I am running straight, to go back to a familiar place, completely exhausted, totally drained, and find that , I am back where I started. And the straight line which I thought I was heading with, turned out to be yet another loop.

There is fine line between reality and fiction and this line is enough to put a human in a different world governed by worldy rules yet no rules apply. The paradox of living in between reality and fiction is difficult to explain or touch base with.

The only thing I can say is that it is not an experience, it’s a feeling. A simple feeling that you are living, it’s just somebody elses life. Like a movie, just a real movie.

I sometimes wonder if me, starring the movie of my life, is playing the role correctly or failing somewhere.At this point I am refusing the fact, that this is the reality of this character or “role” which I was given. As it is not yet a reality, it’s still stuck between those two fine worlds not deciding which one to move to.

They say Prague gives this feeling of living in a dream. Sometimes a nightmare sometimes a nice dream. Or maybe it is just our traumas being activated in a place which allows the space to face the brutal truth of ourselves and the reality of who we are.

Since I moved here, I’ve been going through spiritual journeys which I cannot begin to describe. And somehow this material life in this place, has made my retreat to be my own self. The irony! How the lack of things causes these things to happen. It’s the thing and it’s antonym. Like knowing what light is, because of the dark. And without the darkness, the concept of light wouldn’t be understood, and never appreciated.

In a city where life seems to be moving slowly, yet many times so quickly, where religion is not a thing, and metaphysics are not so much considered, I find the most painful journey back to my own soul, and to understanding life lessons, which I doubt I would have learnt in some other place.

Maybe that’s just the magic of Prague…

Today, I am writing without any feeling, without any touch to my own self. After several attempts to do so, it is still failing. And for the first time ever, I am happy I feel nothing. Nothing except for this anger that sits with me and resurfaces everytime someone tries to ask me something, as simple as it could be.

Sometimes, it is just good to be angry. Because this anger, is simple lava building up, before the volcano completely errupts and sweeps away with it everything standing in its way.

I hope that you reading this, would be able to once feel this complete anger and rage, coming out from your nothingness and non-existance, to make you errupt and destroy all obstacles coming in the way of you feeling your own self and feeling happy.

I hope that a while from now ,I would become this volcano, and by then I will be writing about the constructive destructive journey.

Today, you are reading without any of my emotions, simply reading whatever I wanted to say, in tiny scattered irrelevant yet connected portions of thoughts.

Leaving you with a picture of Mount Etna which my friend sent me today throughout his flight❤🧡

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