For Friends

Birthday Post! (London)


Shots of emotions, bursts of pain, disappointment, love, gratitude, all wrapped up into a confused ball. Bursts of blue, green, red, orange forces in interdependent movement, coexisting in harmony. Most of the time, the forces are moving together in a fluid, flowing manner.

Sometimes, they also clash in a sudden and explosive manner. The blue becomes too strong, its flow stops the flow of others, brutally. Overpowered. Everything stops moving. Everything turns black.

The delicate balance is extremely hard to find.

This is what I feel when I close my eyes, and put my attention towards my chest.


Too serious. Too hardworking. Not smart enough.
Not good enough

Too emotional. Too sentimental. Too sensitive.
Not good enough

Too spoiled. Too selfish, egostic, self-conscious.
Not good enough

Inept with speech. Too indecisive. Not expressive enough.
Not good enough

Not happy enough. Not energetic enough. Not chill enough.

Not good enough

This is what I see and think when I see myself in the mirror, or in relation with others.


Sometimes, in open air, when I let my mind free, it wanders towards death. This is something I’ve been afraid to admit, and to this day, afraid to admit.

It’s not normal. And I want so much to just be normal.
It’s not normal that, sometimes, when I cross a street, I hoped that a miracle would happen, a car would run over me, and all of this would just end.
It’s not normal that, sometimes, when I am waiting for the train, I imagined myself on the tracks, and peace would be mine. A matter of seconds, the time it takes for a train to drive by.

I continued because it is the default, because it would hurt the people I love if I did otherwise.

None of this is normal.
It was not always like this. There were triggers, triggers I’m not yet ready to write about.


But friends. Friends embrace you. They accept parts of you. Different people, different parts. In their presence, I breath. I exist. I am happy. I see that I can be all of these ‘not enough’ versions of a human being, and still be accepted. I see that I have the right to live, enjoy, feel all the things I feel, and not be ashamed of it.

That I am absolutely weird, but it is absolutely okay.
In moments when I want to give up hope. Connections with people are my safety net. They wrap me up, and stop the free fall. I land, soft, on this net. Strongly nit, nicely fit.

Friends, if you’d known the way my heart warms up when we interact. Bursts of colors, red, orange, harmonizing and embracing the forces of blue and green. The red and orange forces widen, surround itself around the other colors in a caring way. Sustaining it, protecting it, not destroying it. They coexist, harmoniously.
Friends, if you’d known that you’ve saved me, over and over again, from my freefalls. Anxious freefalls. Depressive freefalls. Overly analytical freefalls. You, my beautiful, reliable safety net.
Friends, if you’d known how grateful, how incredibly grateful I am to have each and every one of you in my life. That I live for this, that I choose to continue to live, for this. For the hope you have given me, in something good in human beings, amongst everything else.

Yes, friends.

Today I was walking in the streets of London, breathing in the fresh air. Feeling the hole that has been there in my heart for the past few years, slowing starting to fill up. Daring to think about the dreadful questions that’s always been looming in the back of my mind, again.

The shadow that’s been chasing me, I slowly start to slow down, and wait for it to catch up.
The shadow that projects itself on the wall behind me, I slowly start to turn around, and see it for what it is.

Because you give me the strength, friends. You give me the strength to fight. But even more, you give me the strength to exist, to choose, to exist.


Today is my birthday.

I’ve had a year claiming that I’m studying strategy and management, but really trying to figure out how to be a good person.

I’ve had a year claiming that I want to be a good person, but really trying to find a way to imbue some sort of meaning into my empty-feeling life

I’ve had a year claiming that I’m looking for meaning, but perhaps there is no meaning to be found, and existence itself is all that there is.

I’m gradually accepting that there is nothing to be found, that there is nothing inherently worth chasing for.

I’m accepting that healing is needed. That healing needs to happen in its own time.

That I am me, with all my ugly and horrendous part I do not wish to see, my overly present ego, my overly insecure thoughts, my overly anxious nature,

That, by accepting it, I can exist, and this simple yet powerful step, might be the first step in the search for this supposed ‘meaning’ I’m looking for.

In the meantime, I have friends who can keep me company. Bring warmth, give warmth. Bring inspiration, give inspiration. Accept each other. Exist together.

Thank you. Friends.

I cannot say thank you enough.

I really cannot.

I am at a loss of words for the intense gratitude which I feel for you.

Maybe I will find them one day. For now, you just have to believe me.

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