These are my words for you. You know who you are.
But do you know who you really are?
I know who you are.
Will it be late when you’ll come?
Will it be late when you will realize who you are for me?
Will you ever come?
The loving friendship bonds.
A diary reflecting the divinity of the innocence.
The shoe paves its way like the Crocs.
You have no idea where I am, where I have come.
With my Crocshoe.
My most precious gift being You, our love.
Do you still remember US?
Neither do I know where you are.
They say I’m holding on to what does not exist.
They say to love with a distance in the here and now. Or they say it may not be love in liberation.
Otherwise, it is signing for destruction, they say.
They are trying to help.
I choose not to judge you.
Who you are, no one knows as well.
Who I am, no one knows.
Neither you have a wish to know and walk by.
And make a stand for love.
Today, I question love.
The love that you believe is love.
I wish you took my hand, we would walk, cherishing our walk, enjoying our walk, without thinking of arriving anywhere.
I miss you very much.
Since childhood, we are ingrained with the conditioning of making practical, realistic decisions. While it is partly healthy in certain arrangement and management, it is not everything we are. It is part of it and not it all. It may have no connection with love at all.
You made your choice and stood fixed in your mind, distancing and distancing.
They tell me that you are already gone since long time, that there is no You here.
Your perceptions also say US is no possibility.
When I question you, you have no answer for me.
Must I question whether this is fair or not?
This question brings us to a circus.
A circus of the mind, of the heart, it becomes.
I still choose to not entangle in wrong perceptions about you.
Is it a blind choice or the right choice?
What it is really, is beyond my understanding.
I accept not knowing fully.
We could help one another in our understandings towards one another.
You are choosing otherwise.
Am I overthinking?
I am concerned about you.
Please help me understand you better.
The views define not any realities, neither yours nor mine.
Illusions are they.
Dancing to the tunes of the mind.
Confessing the characters.
I choose not to judge you, but to understand and forgive you, and forgive myself.
Sadness arises with the over-thoughts.
The past cannot be changed.
You are in your journey as well.
Radiating, the energy stands by you and for you, helping you sincerely.
We have risked our hearts for one another.
Always remember, my dearest, the sweetness has not gone wasted. There are no regrets in my heart, never will there ever be. All which remains with me now, is this very sweetness.
The essence of my truth, of life, is the sweetness within, and its manifestation. And you remain inclusive of me for life.
I wish to hear you, feel your presence and be near you.
My wounds are the places where the light shall pass through and this sweetness will remain grateful to you.
All the words stem from the sweetness, the silence within and from the healing taking place.
It’s not empty there.
It is complete there.
I wish you could sense the completeness…within both you and I.
The wish is your patience to listen to the truth, to your truth.
Thoughts of wishes bloom, when in pain.
Dear reader, my message is nothing really. Nothing.
When the rain touches the soil, the steps are soft.
When the rain touches the wings, it feels heavy.
When the rain catches my gaze, your truth is confessed.
The light shines again.
I still believe in you. I still believe in your kindness.
Wherever you are, wherever you walk, take good care, my dearest.