Feeling of contentment. A little warmth feeling.

I don’t write often lately because there’s nothing for me to say, because everything is already been. I live now in a no-time place, emotionally speaking.

My mind is here, going crazy every day with million thoughts -mostly repetitions, distractions and fears- but I can feel deep down that I’m not it. I’m something that hides behind that. The contentment, the little warm feeling.

This me hiding behind knows that I no longer need to transmit like it seems that I know what I’m doing, I no longer need to talk loud or to express much through my words. Those are just distractions in this period.

I only have to be here and keep going, just being, doing, transmitting, if so, through my presence and my actions.

I write here because someone that I love asked me to, but yeah… I no longer need it.

I’m here now but in a second I will not be. Every time in between those two moments will have been memories, later erased. I feel no longer a need to write them down, to try to dissect or to try to understand, I just feel a non-stop tireless longing for mental freedom.

I feel like I’m hibernating.

Maybe I could try hard to write things that make sense, to make up a story, to believe a belief so that I then feel the need of expressing it, so others can believe it too. Will that help me or make me feel better? Is there a deep sense of progress or purpose for me on that?

No…

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