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El alma y el cuerpo







Sooo… that happened.

Another headstone for the Berlin Relationship Cemetery.

I’m ok, though.
Past the point of hoping, that maybe… but not past the point of missing him, and thinking of those last two hours we spent together.
About how i had wanted to freeze that moment in time and play it on a loop, and just… live in it.
For as long as possible. 

Yeah, i’m still sad.
Sometimes the absurdity of my life, where i’ve ended up, the isolation, and the longing, makes me cry, right there on the S42 train. 
It’ll be packed with people and i don’t care.
Sometimes i cry for the loss of the person i once was, sometimes because life is a constant fucking struggle and i feel like i can’t breathe.
And recently i guess, because i’m still mourning the loss of what could have been, with us. 
The memories, like that last day, are flashes, too bright, reminding me that i knew, even as they were happening, that they would some day hurt like this.
But it’ll pass. 
Right? It usually does. 
Case in point; the other night i went to see a guy i used to date. 
A guy who, for a while, was the guy. 
The one whose texts gave me instant butterflies, and whose house key i would carry around in my bag, just in case he was still working when i was coming over. 
It wasn’t love, but he was someone important to me.
And recently we’ve been trying out the friendship thing. Which is why i went over.
But it’s weird.
Cause there’s not much to build on when your entire mutual past is basically sleeping together and occasionally going out to dinner. 
A crush is not a strong foundation. 
But it was fine. We drank tea. And he was still cute. Very. 
But i wasn’t feeling anything, and i took some comfort in that.
It reminded me, that attraction fades, and the love and the longing i’m feeling now, will too.

The urge i’m feeling to text my love right now, if suppressed for long enough, will eventually cease to exist. 
And when that happens, i will have moved on, again.

Until that happens, at least i have a distraction, a distraction called life-is-little-more-than-work-and-work-is-numbness. 
It’s something to be done. 
I go, i’m on autopilot, i’m out-of-body. 
Or more like i’m the tiny alien operating the Flora vessel. 
And every day after work, after two trains and a tram, after competing for a seat and ignoring the coughing and and the smelling and the nose blowing and the smoking-a-cigarette-on-the-tracks-then-entering-the-train-while-still-exhaling-smoke and the staring, oh the staring! 
You avert, you stare back, you do everything but yell “you’re not supposed to stare at people you’re an adult and it’s rude what the fuck is wrong with you?!” and still their cold, grey, emotionless eyes just stay fixed on you, judging and not even caring that you know. 
Hah. I’m fine, commuting is fine.
Anyway, every day after… that,  i go home, hoping that once inside the apartment, my body and soul will reunite and become who i was, someone who’ll paint and laugh and listen to music like they used to, but it doesn’t happen, cause the vessel is so exhausted it’s practically shaking, and the tiny alien operator don’t have the means or the energy to try to waken it. 
So they both do what the have to do to survive: eat, walk the dog, write maybe one important email, do some dishes, wash face, look at face in complete disbelief. 
Brush teeth. 
Confront own mortality.
And then they look at the time and go: “holy shit how did it get this late!?” and they tell each other: “Tomorrow. Tomorrow we will be “i” and i will have just a little more energy, just enough to do something with passion, even for a few minutes”. 

And when that does happen?
Those few minutes are what i live for.

I’ve started drinking coffee at night as soon as i get home from work, and it helps.
As if i don’t drink enough coffee to stay awake during the day.
Lol.

On a more positive note, weekends are finally something i look forward to. 
I used to hate them, not for being much like the other days of the week, although for a while they were, but for being a reminder of what i didn’t have. 
Someone. 
Someone whose happy thought was to spend a Sunday with me. 
That’s all i wanted, just to be someone’s happy thought. 
And for a short time i think i was, until suddenly i wasn’t, and weekends again became painful reminders of my loneliness, but even worse than before.

Now, weekends are for sleeping late.
Late these days meaning 10 am.
And for spending time with my dog, who during the week sees my flatmates more than he sees me.
It’s for doing laundry and watering plants and seeing my room bathed in daylight. 
For working out, cause i can’t do that every morning anymore.
For writing at a cafe, cause i need to see something besides my room, my cubicle, and the damn train.
And occasionally for drinking and dancing and spending the day in bed hungover watching bad tv.
Weekends are now a rare privilege, and not necessarily one that needs to be shared with another person. 
Not that i don’t miss it, miss him, i do, but no more or less on Sundays.
So for that i’m grateful for my new routine, for the numbness, for the job that takes a little bite out of my soul every day, instead of feeding it.
For the quiet hopelessness of working out of necessity rather than passion. 
For this separation between body and soul.  






I love my room, and the crazy plants invading it
I made a few prints of this painting and sold them, there is no greater feeling in the world than that

That time i decided to break through a fence and go urban exploring on my lunch break
Totally worth it… when life isn’t magical, you must try extra hard to make magic happen

More prints, these now live at my friend Carly’s place here in Berlin
Lucifer has had to get used to a different lifestyle, now that i can’t stay home with him, but he’s handled it so well, and he loves his new flatmates
That time i needed to take passport photos for my insurance, and i realized that my face is Harrison Ford level asymmetrical

One morning in Potsdam, the fog was irresistible 

The flower shop next to the bakery where i get my morning coffee

Shopping last weekend, you bet i bought this

I made some backpacks out of kitten tote bags, and put them on my etsy

I miss the ubahn, actually

I made a friend on another lunch break, he was like a cartoon character basically

Awful picture of a great breakfast very late on Sunday afternoon… i’ve had a great weekend

9 thoughts on “El alma y el cuerpo”

  1. Just wait one day. And then one more. And one more. And eventually it will be shining again, even if you dont see it now. It's kind of a law! In the meantime, try to enjoy all this self time you have, cause you're definitely gonna miss it. Or that's how i feel.
    Oh, and be proud for creating although feeling this way..most people can't even make it out of bed:P

    (can't remember leaving a comment all these years i've been reading you btw!)

  2. I've been doing the commuting thing for YEARS and yeah, the staring and coughing still drive me bananas. COVER YOUR FUCKING MOUTH. Also on my list – loud yawning men (who yell-yawn), loud music that I can hear over my podcast, anybody eating anything, man spread, toenail clipping (I've only seen it twice but that's two times too many), drunk loud-talking…ok I could go on forever. Commuting sucks.

    1. Toenail clipping?!? I'm adding this to the list: people chewing their gum too loud and trying to blow bubbles when it's clearly regular gum and therefore not possible. Oh, and this guy on the train this morning who had a wheezy high pitched kinda hysterical laugh and kept giggling loooong after his friend stopped talking. Probably wasn't that funny anyway.

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