This post is not for you, but my own stubborn brain.
The one that at some point became a stranger, an ongoing offender.
I wish I could keep a childish mind. One, that doesn’t see boundaries or barriers. But instead, I build my own fences where ever I go.
I can’t, I can’t, I won’t make it, I say to myself.
As if I am setting the way for my own future failure.
If I was an animal, I would like to be a wild horse, or maybe a lioness. Something with feet steady on the ground, but a mind as free as a bird. Wandering without permanency. Something that would rather die than be put into a prison, a cage.
Who likes cages? Only a house cat could be happy in such, and I’m certainly not one of those.
I wish I had the courage of an activist, the braveness to tie myself onto soulless trees.
I long to be one that’s willing to fight for the good battles.
Seeking for adventure, making the best out of everything. Best of myself. The best out of every turn. But yet that for sure has never been the exact truth.
What is the reason, is it me or the bad neighbour?
I wish I was the one playing first violin. But why do I then so often settle for the Gong? The dusty back row, that one moment of being heard?
If I would own a house, it would be one with no mirrors, no reflecting surfaces.
Nothing to observe myself out of but the reactions of others.
Why do you search for such great knowledge about the amount of weight at which the earth pulls me to its surface, or the number of wrinkly formulations on my skin?
What does it matter? What will my looks be ever able to change for the better in society?
Why do you calculate words, that no one will soon remember?
Why do you come up with these limitations for my success? Who is it that tells us we are not good enough – is it really the others, or actually you yourself?
How many times have you had others restrict you? And how many times have you done that filtering for yourself?
Is it really my worst enemy that’s in the way of my success, or simply just, my very own shadow?
Why can’t you smile at yourself like others do? Why don’t you work to do the best for yourself? Why can’t you take care of yourself like a kindly hosting stranger? Why can’t you begin the morning like you know everything and nothing; remembering the good tunes, forgetting the ones poorly played?
Why can’t you be good to me, my mind?