(Different ways of being in places that aren’t really home)
Leaving – The sudden realization that you’ve already left a place. But you’re also still there. You walk the streets and you see the views, but like in an old photo where everything’s already memories.
Arriving – When you’ve put your feet down. Stopped walking, stopped pacing, stopped turning your head around. You’ve sat down and you’re there. A feeling that exists in short, defined moments, usually parallell to emotional contentment and the good kind of acceptance. Can echo into longer or shorter seasons.
Going – Similar but different from leaving. You know that where you are is for a time and that you’re going somewhere else, but it doesn’t make you any less present. Drop the emotional detachement. If leaving is the feeling that you should have already left, going is the knowledge that you will, when it’s time.
I’m a drug addict, but instead of atoms you’ll find feelings injected in my veins, and I crave them. Crave them when I feel way to empty, and the longing after them might paradoxically be the strongest of them. I want to define them, ground them, put them down on pages and scream them out in words. Paint my skin with their colour and patterns and let the water in the watercolour paintings of them run down the walls. I’ve never considered myself a happy person, because I have this. Because when I’m far away from God I’m drowning. My heart can find no peace and so I climb the walls and tear at my skin and curse the laziness that just makes me want to sleep when my brain is to high to find any rest. I used to think I was controlled by my thoughts because I’m always thinking too much, but what I’m thinking about is now and always depending on what I’m feeling, with no rationality or logic to remind me that sadness or joy is temporary. I’m an addict because my feelings control me way to much and I love them.
I’m trying this out. I’ve always hated mornings with a burning passion and it bothers me that they’re so necessary, that the start of the day shapes the rest of it. Not completely, but I wish it had zero impact. To me, the point of the No media before breakfast rule is to start out stable. We hear so much, listen to so much and choose to look at so much without caring as much about not letting it be the ruler of us. Not caring about how much impact it has on us. I want to start the day off knowing who I am, knowing who God is and just enjoy reality for a while. Then I allow myself to escape it, but I always try to love reality the most. Because when I don’t, it wrecks me. When I don’t, I just spiral down further into the unrealistic dream of actually managing to escape reality. But we can’t. And reality is where I find the actual happiness anyway, the type that is free from pain.