empty. strength courage and wisdom

there was no message in the bottle. the bottle was empty and so was I. there was no way I could find a way out, there was no way I could find a way in and make myself at home. An eternal state of transition, floatingness, in limbo, hanging in there waiting for some sort of illumination, a sunray early in the morning maybe. maybe the long awaited blissful happiness piercing through my heart while looking at a sunrise over the ocean while dolphins glide through waves.

can't this match with a dream i once had? where has it gone? drowned in the oversupply?

in the window the reflection of myself. there is a girl with long brown hair, a orange skirt she was wearing for way too long, no underwear but only i know, a too tight jeans jacket, sad eyes. an espresso. a book she writes in. a full moon. italian kitsch romantic music that relentlessly drives tears into my eyes.

once upon a time. she thinks. once upon a time this girl danced whenever she wanted, unrestrained, on the streets, where ever she wanted. once upon a time this girl dared to sing because she felt safe. once upon a time this girl longed out to open up her heart to a stranger and she was afraid the weight of her love with which she used to embrace the whole world, the holy and the whores, the bulgars and the famous, the liars and the storytellers, the beggars and the junkies, the ugly and the beautiful - would kill somebody, if she directed it only at one person. now she starts concentrating the love. cutting it back, appropriately for a bad world that she was never afraid of. loving overprotection slowly seems to suffocate that what is beautiful. so maybe now, she thinks. maybe now it is time for rain and my tears will water your garden. but she truly just doesn't know.

locked away, somewhere there, inside, she hears a blackbird singing. is it that memories are deluding. look forward. just look forward, into the now. and in the now...she feels lost.

and just in the middle of this overwhelming feeling of lostness, of being stranded somewhere where she really doesn't and never will belong to, there is a voice: India.Arie. click the title of this post for the lyrics. it is an incredibly beautiful song and it is for you Viola. And for me. And for the rest of us, too...

maybe I will write a message. and put it in a bottle....


ps. but still. I really don't feel like I can ever belong here. ever.