I'm fighting the changes that are tearing my heart out.

This is gonna sound like such teen angst type of post. Or, I don't know, maybe it's just teen angst in my head. It's hard to think through this pounding headache that never goes away, and the haze of emotion that's hard to decode and pin point, but none of them positive that much I know. I was just talking about that wheel of fortune thing a while back didn't I? How if things have been good and happy for a while they're bound to fall back to misery at some point. I believe I also mentioned I'm afraid of going back to those dark spaces again because they're going to feel like the deepest part of Inferno I've ever been in? Yeah. Seems about right...

I am so tired you guys. So tired of being different. So tired of being yelled at and degraded for things I can not change. So tired of having my feelings invalidated. ''Why are you so sensitive?'' ''What did I say that was so bad?'' ''Why are you making such a big deal out of nothing?'' ''What's wrong with you?''. You see, what is wrong with me? Everything and nothing. And your ''nothing'' is a big deal to me. Do people ever stop, and think before they speak? Do they ever think, that not just their actions have consequences but also that their words carry more weight than they think? To you it's nothing. To me...evil, vile, rude, mean. And I am tired of listening to it daily. Honestly? I am sorry, that I can't be normal, I am sorry I don't fit in the ''kinder, kuche, kirche'' model. People have no idea how badly I wish I was like them, stupid, content, without personal opinion, just another sheep in the flock, following the leaders and not have a single fucking care in the world. Happy in my own bubble. Or happy as a cog in a well oiled machine. NORMAL. I'm sorry that your version of adapting, where it's always ME adapting to everyone else just isn't cutting it. I'm sorry I can't fucking do that. Or better that I don't know how to do it, that I can't find boring mundane conversations ''stress relieving''. I'm sorry I have to stick out like a bruise on pale skin. I'm sorry I don't want what is supposed to be normal. I'm sorry I am apparently not in fact, normal. I'm sorry I don't have my shit together. I'm sorry the world is not a good place for people like I am. I am sorry I am ''crazy''. 

And I'm sorry, that at the end of the day an ''artist'' or as people like to say it ''failed artist'' is all I am. I don't know why that is not enough, but I'm sorry if that's all I really know how to do, express, create, scribble. I wish I was better, I wish I was more, I wish I was everything YOU wanted not me, because if not happy, maybe at least I'd live in peace. I don't know. I just wish things were different I suppose. I wish, I could break free from these barriers, I wish I could rewire my brain, I wish I could see the world, technicolor apparently like you people do. I wish I could just be whatever is supposed to be ''normal''. I wish I could want things that people find normal, white picket fence, 2,5 kids, husband, career, soccer mom car, pastel clothing, Karen hairstyle. I guess I wish I could grow up?

This is the part where I was supposed to be uplifting, where I'm supposed to tell you that it gets better. That the problem is not me, but people around me, degrading me non stop, the world which is really not made to fit people that are a bit different, a bit ''weird''. But I can't. I don't have it in me to be even a smidge positive, I'm sorry guys. The sun may be out and shining but all I'm seeing is darkness. That heavy cloud that lifted a while back? It hit full force and it feels like the world will never be happy again. All I'm seeing is sadness. All I'm seeing is...negativity. I already gave up on being understood or loved, that's out the window, but how about tolerated? Can we do that? I guess that is out of the picture too. So what gives? What remains? How do you change things that can not be changed? Do you just pretend all your life? If so...how do you make it not lead into insanity? Oh right...I used to be normal, I should just go back to that...pretending. Always pretending. Always masking, always keeping the perfect fucking facade on. Because that's what's expected of me, because nobody likes who I really am. Nobody. Nobody. Unlikable. Unlovable. 

I don't know where I'm going with this, reaching out, hoping someone out there feels the same. Making them feel less alone. Or maybe documenting my insanity for someone to read someday, when the last tiny bit of self control goes to hell, and go ''well it all makes perfect sense doesn't it''. I guess it will someday. Just not THIS day. 

I was honestly hoping an answer to all my questions lies in learning about myself. Getting an answer to why I am the way I am. And I got that. And I am grateful. But what changed? A lot. But not for the better. Worse. I expected a moment of clarity. Understanding. Sun shining through those fucking cracks we all have, and that can at the end of the day be beautiful. Golden. Love and light. New start. But what did I get instead? Darkness. Ignorance. Hatred. ''You used to be normal''. Lets face it, I never was ''normal'', I was just damn good at hiding it. And I guess I got lazy, comfortable, let people see the real me, and it was really telling to see who stayed and who bolted. Maybe the most telling is the fact that I lack support in my own family. I get it, you don't understand me, I don't understand you, but if I borrow this from my dear Keith Haring ''you don't have to know anything about art to appreciate it or to look at it. There aren't any hidden secrets or things that  you're supposed to understand.''.  Just like art, maybe some things are not supposed to be understood just accepted, appreciated as they are, dare I say loved? 

I'm not going to preach to you that it gets better, it really doesn't. I never gets any fucking better. What it does, it gets easier. You learn to live with the pain, you learn to ignore it, you learn to grow around it. Should you be forced to do it? Absofuckinglutely not. But here we are regardless, fighting the good fight. 

Salud you guys, I'm grabbing a glass of wine and praying to whatever higher power there is up there that life gets a tiny bit fucking easier. Be safe, love each other and don't forget now and always ''Free Palestine''. 

''Sold my soul to the devil for a pack of lights and a night spent in jail I can keep as a memento.''

What do you believe in? Love? Friendship? Faith? God? Magic? Vampires? Ghosts? Lately I don't believe in much. Except maybe that life is a fortune wheel, when it spins and gives you some good luck, it's bound to spin back and hit you twice as hard. What is that line in that MCR song Destroya? ''You don't believe in God, I don't believe in luck, they don't believe in us, but I believe we're the enemy''. That. We are our own biggest enemies. Was just thinking about that while constantly sabotaging myself and bringing myself down, with scenarios that never happened, and will never happen, but still play in my head like a cheap Hollywood production. And with stressing over people that are not worth a second of my time, let alone being upset about. And dwelling over the bad times instead of the good times. I don't know you guys, sometimes I just want to sit in the middle of the street and scream, maybe that would make me feel better. Get the frustrations out. Or just get me locked up. I guess that wouldn't be so bad either, if I can't get along with the so called ''normal people'' then maybe the crazies (I say this with love, no degradation to people with problems) are my crowd. We're all a little crazy after all. 

I'm still moping about the cancelled Bruce Springsteen concert yes. And I know, I KNOW, it's not the end of the world, worse things happen on this planet every day. I get that. And I know I have nothing to complain about when looking at the bigger picture, but it's heartbreaking when I spent the entire year looking forward to it, and prioritising because who the hell can afford so many expensive tickets these days? Then to have him say, oh sorry, no luck this year, maybe next year. Next year when we're all dead. I'm being pessimistic I know, but who can tell for sure? Nobody that's who. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy he cancelled and is using the time to get better, I'm just salty over cancelling THAT date, not the four in Spain starting today. I'm sorry if I have any fan readers from there, I hope you guys have fun tonight, but I'm sure if roles were reversed you'd feel the same. Another year and half a month wait time is A LOT. And it cost me Yungblud today. Which sucks even more. Y'all know I LOVE that kid. Love will tear you apart and fuck you up right? It sure feels like it right now, my love for music is tearing me apart. I guess it also doesn't help that the concert was supposed to be in Italy, Italy my beloved, I could be wasted on my third Aperol before noon, loving life at the Piazza Del Duomo but no no, no fucking Piazza or Italy, but home, doom and gloom and rain and cold. Wtf is this? It's the middle of June and I'm typing this in a hoodie. 

And it doesn't help that I got my first commission (paid in full) in a year which is a goddamn miracle believe me, I could cry glitter and candy. A commission? And paid? Impossible. Well possible. I should know better though, shouldn't I? Because when did things in my life ever go according to plan? Never thats when. What is that saying? A donkey only walks on ice once? Who does it multiple times? An idiot that's who. And who's the idiot in the story? Me. I'm the idiot. Of course the commission ends up being something I do not want to draw at all, and of course it's for a person I do not like at all. How is this even possible? Like statistically? How do the stars align like this? Also how bout aligning into something positive? Like I'd have nothing against a dinner with Tom Cruise, so next time he stares into my eyes it's not because he almost tripped over my filthy biker boots but because we're talking some deep profound shit, like is there life in space. Shut up and let a fangirl dream okay? Maybe dreams will make me feel a little bit less of a sellout, ''case closed, soul sold''. 

And it doesn't help that my fave snake ring broke, that it never stops fucking raining, that my mail got lost probably in the depths of hell when it's really two hours away and hasn't been delievered in a month, it doesn't help that though I felt overly inspired, I missed out on MerMay, it doesn't help that all I do lately is cry over dogs and sappy romantic novels, wishing my life was like a book. Wait. Romantic book. My life IS a book, only it's a horror story. Alright enough whining, I'm going to throw everything off my desk, tie my god damn hair up, get my sixth cup of coffee this morning / afternoon and see what I can do to fix at least a couple of disasters shadowing me right now. Remember kids don't drink  cappuccino after noon and Free Palestine.  

Jaz sem, ti si, Veronika.

''Svijet se čini tako beskrajan, a ja svog mogu zagrliti dvije ruke...''

Forbidden love. What is that essentially? The explanation would be something along the lines of ''forbidden love is a romance between two people that is opposed by family, friends or society, as their relationship may defy cultural, religious or societal norms''. That about sums it up, but what is it really? It's a slow painful death. It's drowning on dry land. It's the sun never shining again. It's playing with fire and getting burned. It's the craving, the pining and the what ifs. What would you do if nothing was holding you back? It's the heartbreak, the pain, the torment. It leaves you broken inside and questioning if it was even worth it...

We all know the story of Romeo and Juliet right? ''For never was a story of more woe, than this of Juliet and her Romeo''...well I'm here to tell you a sadder story. Story of a couple that lived in my own hometown. I wrote about the ''Counts of Celje'' several times, but to summarize, they were the most influential late medieval noble dynasty in the area of present day Slovenia. They were the counts from 1341 and rose to ''Princes of the Holy Roman empire'' in 1436, but unfortunally died out in 1456 with the death of Ulrik II. 

But this story is not about Ulrik, this story is about his father, Friderik II. and his Veronika. So if we go right at the start of this story, supposedly Friderik met Veronika one day while out hunting, and getting injured by a deer. Like an Angel sent from heaven with long beautiful blonde hair Veronika came running to his aid. She was a knowledgeable healer and familiar with different plants and herbs. We know what title that gave you in medieval times right? A witch. She was actually the first woman in this area accused of witchcraft but we'll get to that. Now it seems that as soon as these two laid their eyes on each other they fell in love, so romantic isn't it? One look it's all it takes. Unfortunally though, when Friderik met her he was married to his first wife Elizabeta, who died mysteriously after Friderik and Veronika met. We can all put two and two together and assume this is murder right? You know that in most cases the motive for murder is either money or love? 

The cause of Elizabeta's death was never revealed, but it's a known fact that she died the same day Friderik came to see her. I'm going to give you a theory on what happened. Poison. My wild guess. Veronika DID know a lot about healing plants, I have no doubts she knew a thing or two about poisonous ones too. Of course rumors were flying around that Friderik did it, because of course she was in the way of his one true love and a divorce is out of the question for a noble family. But there was never any evidence that would corroborate this and actually accuse him of murder. Ironically though, it seems that true love is not only worth suffering for but also killing for. Three years after his wifes death Friderik married Veronika in secret because she was not noble, their love was impossible, she was not ''good enough for him''. How many times have we heard this? How many times have we wondered if we're good enough for something, for someone? It's like...hundreds and hundreds of years later, nothing is changed, our doubts, our fears, our love...everything is mirroring, everything is basically the same. 

There's an urban legend going around about a castle, nothing but ruins remain of it today (btw Friderik had a castle build for his wife Veronika, with the money he stole from his father. Now that is extra don't you think?), piles of boulders in the middle of a forest, nature took claim of it. In the middle of the ruins, there is a very odd looking stone, a stone that looks as if it's melted. What would it take for a rock to melt? Temparatures between 600 to 1300 celsius. The story goes that Friderik and Veronika sat on the rock and kissed, and it was their burning passionate love that melted it. We know today that's bullshit but it's a nice idea aint it? Love so strong, so passionate. You know I go crazy. You know us Italians, we're all about love and passion. 

Here come the complications and the heartbreak, Frideriks father Herman II. did not like the idea of this love, first of as I mentioned Veronika was unworthy, their union was against Hermans political plans, and god forbid the inheritance! Now him being so paranoid and influential meant that he has his spies everywhere, so the news of his sons marriage came to him too. He found out his son is not only married but madly madly in love, and whats worse? The had a son together! The horror! The family went into hiding because of his fathers persecution, and this is the one time where Catholic church did something right and help them hide. A prior hid them in a convent. Out of spite and anger Herman burned down the castle Friderik build for Veronika (it was rebuid by Friderik after Hermans death but still fell to ruins later) and whats interesting is that each year on that spot, pink roses grow and bloom amongst the ruins. 

Running out of ideas Herman accused Veronika of witchcraft, beacuse it's impossible for his son to be in love right? It's impossible for him to be this crazy about someone, to be so passionate, to be so devoted...only logical explanation? She's a witch and he must be under a powerful spell. If such a thing existed can someone point me towards the witch that can cast it? I sure as hell wouldn't be against someone completely obsessed with me *coughTomCruisecough* in a healthy way that is. So Herman wanted Veronika to burn for her crimes but what makes this story unique is not only was she the first woman accused of witchcraft but she was also acquitted. She apparently had a fantastic defence and a witness statement by the very prior that hid them, which helped the charges against her to be dropped. It didn't help much though, Herman was on a war path, determined to end this love story, so he had her locked up in one of their many castles, determined to starve her to death. 

Friderik on the other hand was locked in a tower. A tower build specifically to be a jail cell for Friderik, his father apparently hoped he'll come to his senses or break the spell or whatever else he was thinking. My heart literally hurts for him, locked in that tower, no windows, no doors, and ripped away from the love of his life not knowing what fate she suffered. Can you imagine the heartbreak? Can you imagine the pain after he finally learned? I can't. It's a story so tragic it's making me want to cry. 

So Hermans plan of starving Veronika didn't pan out, locals were bringing her food, so Herman did the next logical thing. Logical in his head that is, he had his servants storm the castle and kill her. Supposedly they drowned her in a bathtub. Ironic because drowning was the second most popular way to kill a witch. Herman had their son Ivan traced and killed as well. Talk about a real ruthless animal that goes over bodies to get what he wants, even bodies of his own family. Vile. Disgusting. And one would think we evolved and grew and learned but reality is that we became even more animalistic. I keep thinking about Friderik in that tower getting the news from one of his loyal servants that dug a hole under the wall and was brining him food. I just...I think about what I would do, what I would feel and it's killing me, it's breaking my heart. 

Herman learned that at some point Friderik will have to be released, because he's his first son and heir to the ''throne''. So at literally the brink of death Herman let him go. I wonder what led to it, starvation by force or just heartbreak. I think it was the second. I think he literally felt like he had nothing to live for no more. First thing he did upon his release was to move Veronikas body to the convent they were hiding in, and out of grief never again remarried, I suppose that contributed to the dynasty dying out. Friderik gave away all his possesions to convents after that and his only death wish? To be burried next to his love. Of course it wasn't granted. Of course he had to be buried in the same church the entire family is buried in. 

Here's another dark and twisted turn in this tale. While Frideriks wish was not granted and he was not buried with the love of his life, parts of him might have been. It was not unusual in those times to bury the body, the head and the heart separate and I think we all know which part of him would of end up with her. But that's not the twist in the story, the twist is while the local museum has his skull in it's depo (supposedly that is, there's some speculation that the skulls in the museum possesion are not the counts after all, after a 1800s fire that burned down the church where they were buried, the tombs were treated unprofessionally and bodies removed in a way that left them too damaged, with no way to actually extract and compare DNA), and the last resting place of Veronika IS known, nobody knows where she is today. Story goes that she is in the ground where a torn down part of the convent (a chapel, the very same one Friderik chose as his own resting place, coincident? I think not) is but nobody knows for sure. I read once that a GPR analysis showed anomaly in the soil, and that they were able to map out an entire chapel that is supposedly in good condition, but it was never dug up and explored. 

There are several archived documents that lead to thinking she's there. In 1434 Friderik asked the Vatican for a pardon for this chapel, the chapel itself was dedicated to Mary and an institution that belonged to the Count family. And in 1428 the highest member of the Carthusian order issued ''some'' permit in connection with ''some'' chapel, upon ''some'' request by the monks in the convent. The request was to let a woman be buried in an all male convent. Now the only woman in connection to this convent is Veronika who was hiding there, so this makes sense that she'd also be buried in a place that was SO important to the both of them. The Vatican archives claim that this request was granted by the way. 

You know me. You know I'm going crazy. You know I HAVE to know how this story ended, and I hope one day we get to learn where she is, maybe even if somehow by some miracle they still ended up together. The romantic in me wants to believe that's the case anyways. Until then...here's some pictures....

''If I told you about all the darkness inside of me...would you still look at me like I am the sun?''

I talked about the purpose and concept of this blog a little while back, and how that purpose got lost along the way. ''Lost along the way'' like that one All time low song. It got me thinking if perhaps we aren't all a little lost. One way or another. And I was thinking if that's really such a bad thing? You know how it is in Italy right? You're supposed to get a little lost to discover the best and the unknown places. Maybe life is kinda like that too? Maybe you have to be a little lost to discover things you never would if you stick to the charted path. I'm one to speak right? My life was never charted, never mapped out. I don't know what I'm doing half of the time, my motto is ''fake it till you make it''. I feel like whoever claimed I'm an adult is high on crack cocaine...but...what if this mess is how my life is supposed to be? So I don't have shit figured out, fine, who does, maybe that's how it's supposed to be? Chaotic and a perfect mess like I am? Maybe I just Worship Chaos huh? I don't know...just thinking out loud. Been doing that a lot lately. Looking at things from a different angle, from a different perspective. Learning new things about myself. About life. About art. About what inspires me, about what makes me happy and content and  creative. It's been quite the journey not going to lie. Chaotic, messy, eye opening journey. 

Why do we spend so much time comparing ourselves and our accomplishments with others? Some people have it all figured out and a house and 2,5 kids and a career all before they're 25 and some don't. Why does that determine their worth? Some artists are published with tons of likes on each of their posts and some aren't, again that shouldn't determine their worth or talent? Why do people play that ''kinder kuche kirche'' boring mundane talks with you really? They don't care about your life one bit, they wanna measure you, they wanna adapt the level of respect and tone of conversation to that. That's what they're doing. Because believe me, their attitude towards you will be drastically different if you're a cleaning lady or a judge. We got lost along the way, determining our worth on things that don't matter, things that shouldn't matter. What should matter is our humanity, who we are as people, our empathy, our compassion, our amore, that should be the determining factor of what you're worth. 

And it sure as hell shouldn't be about ''finding yourself''. It should always be about creating yourself. It should be about inspiring others to create too, it should be...building the best version of you you can be, for yourself, not for others. I don't know why we allow others to influence us so much, why we allow them to dim our lights, why we adapt and change for them. Why we change to fit in? That's pure bullshit. I sure as hell strongly believe if you don't like me for me, even on my worst days, even with all my flaws, then you sure as hell don't deserve me on my good days, and you sure as hell don't deserve the good parts. Same with friendships, it's not real if I have to play pretend, walk on eggshells or change just to be accepted. I'm rather lonely, because in reality nothing, no loneliness, no nothing is worse than being in a room full of people and feeling alone. 

Ironically just a few days ago someone told me it's pure chaos in my soul, and pure madness in my head, and pure electricity in my veins, and too much love in my heart, and how that is what he loves most about me, all the things other people hate, those are his favourite. I was taken aback, because all the things everyone in my life pointed out as flaws...they're not really flaws at all. I was being made insecure because...what is a confident woman really? Capable of burning the whole world down aint she? Capable of brining every man down to his knees aint she? People say they can handle storms so you'd let them in but then it turns out they can handle a drizzle and you're a hurricane. You know what I mean? I don't know where I'm going with this, like I said pure chaos but sometimes you just gotta put it out there and hope your words resonate with someone else too. The point is I was always made believe that I was too much. Too much of this too much of that, but the irony is I was just enough for someone, only never lucky enough to be surrounded by my someones. 

I was also told recently that I'm a paradox, confusing, intriguing. Sometimes completely insecure in everything I do, sometimes confident to a point I come off narcissistic. I can be warm, kind, endearing one minute but then cold, indifferent and aloof the next. Faithful but detached, loving everyone yet hating everybody.True. But my behaviour very much depends on who it's directed at, you get what you deserve really. Some days I can spend hours just babbling about my passions, about the universe, about life, about my inspirations and creations and sometimes expecting a simple smile is too much. I was told I was an enigma without any possible way of being solved, and that I really shouldn't be anyways, some things shouldn't be understood, some things should only be accepted and / or loved as they are, don't you agree? Isn't that how art is also supposed to be? Not understood, but loved? You don't buy a painting because of a clear clean soulless bouquet of flowers that's painted do you? You buy it because you love it. You buy it with your heart. 

Which brings us to this mind blowing enlightenment I got. I told you I went all ''eat, pray, love'' right? Well differently. But same concept. Discovering things, understanding things, etc. I had a hard time understanding why people always ended up walking out of my life. It was something that happened always no matter what, and I was just thinking, what the hell is the matter with me? Why is this happening all the time? Well. It's not me. It is. But it also isn't. I honestly think people who claimed to love me never did, they loved an idea of me in their head, an illusion, a version of me I allowed them to see, not pretending per say just, showing them what I wanted them to see and keeping the rest hidden, locked away in a box. People loved the easy versions of me, the easiest things about me to love, and when they saw a glimpse under the surface...that was game over. 

And honestly thinking about it, I'm so many things to so many people. Annoying? Awful? Bitch? Aloof? Stupid? Detached? Kind? The list goes on and on...but who am I to me? How do I define me? I don't honestly even know no more. The one thing, the one thing that's a constant. Artist. Creator. That's who I am. That's who and what I'll always be, no matter what version of me you get to know, that's the one thing all versions have in common, the one thing that can not be changed or altered. 

Most days lately I just do not understand people you know? I understand I can't expect people to see, feel and understand people on the same level I do. That's my tragedy. Understanding people that will never understand me. People make me feel lately like I am drowning but I can't fucking die. All the time. That's why I prefer being alone, alone with people that do understand me, detached, not letting new people in or even close. Maybe that's why I cling to art, to music, to poems, because I desperately want to feel like I'm not alone, like someone out there understands me, and can say it better how I feel than I can.

Maybe that's why spilling my feelings on canvas is just easier. You see the polished perfect portraits but I never share the angry doodles, the paper wet with tears, the shredded pieces when anger and frustration takes over. Paper doesn't judge. Art doesn't judge. Art is a way to escape reality which I find myself needing more often lately. You know that Nietzsche actually said that ''no artist tolerates reality'' I felt that. And I feel it even more now. Reality is becoming more and more difficult to bare. I don't know where I'm going with this really, maybe in the end I am just as lost as Alice and just as mad as the Hatter.

All of these things, all the shit that happened in my life, all the fucked up friendships, relationships, family...that made me wonder if I understand love. I didn't. It made me wonder if I even know what it really is. I didn't. It made me wonder if love is worth fighting for...and all it took for me to look at that one right person and I was ready for war. And that both scares the hell out of me, and excites me. It's one of those things you know...things you don't understand but feel instead. Because you know the reality is nobody understands love, they feel it, they want it. The only issue is because people are in love with the idea of love, but nobody is willing to work for it, to sacrifice, to go to war. And it's me again that's the problem. You ask for a spark and I'll give you a wildfire. I don't know how to love a little. It's either all in or nothing.

I don't know the point I'm trying to get across really, I'm rambling, I'm puttng words out there hoping someone can relate. Letting myself fall hoping to be caught kinda thing. But I know one thing. Creation makes me happy, art defines me. And with all the chaos in me there's also so much love. Love for those who earn it, those that are like me, willing to go to war. Can you imagine what a world it would be, if love was the only thing we fought for? Yeah, me neither. 

Let me end this post with a thank you. Thank you for those that showed me love, thank you for those that inspired me, those that made me create, those that made me smile when I had nothing to smile about, those that were here for me always, even if on the other side of the world in a different time zone. Thank you thank you thank you, for showing me that there is kindness in an unkind world. 

Celebrating this man and his achievements today, thank you for the daily inspiration, I love you.

 

Thank you for all the inspiration, I love you.

 

My Demons follow me where ever I go, they wanna remind me daily that I'm not in control.

It feels like I haven't been writing in forever. Like, you know what I mean, properly sit down and write some thoughts, frustrations, stupidity, insanity. Whichever one works. I started this blog primarily to share art...well, yes, we saw how well that went, ha ha. And to do some travel write ups, well...you know...lol...somewhere along the way it turned into ramblings about music, esentially I turned into a music blogger, which at the end of the day, makes most sense, doesn't it? Music is such an important part of my life, such a huge part of me and the reason for everything good in my life, what the hell else should I be writing about? And also...this blog was and it still is, a safe space, for me to share whatever I feel like sharing, which sometimes made it feel a bit too...depressing. That was never my intention btw, it happened along the way, with emotions I didn't feel comfortable sharing with people around me. Which possibly brings us to why I haven't been writing...life lately has been, dare I say good? Amazing? Fantastic? It's ironic that when things suddenly go really well, I have no words to describe them, I don't know how to put them into words. I don't know how to put happiness into words, maybe I'm just scared of putting a label on it and making it disappear. 

A lot of you have been asking me if anything had changed ever since I got my diagnosis. Yes. And no. Things aren't magically better, or easier at all. But what is easier is how I cope with it. What is easier is understanding. Not that much from the world around me, lets face it that never did and never will show understanding, but understanding myself. You know I am my worst enemy and critic, and understanding that sometimes I can't be okay, and sometimes I can't have my shit together, and there's a damn good reason for that...well that made me less tough on myself. And it made me understand boundaries on a whole new level, and maybe people too. They don't see the world like I do, and that's okay. I just gotta surround myself with people that do. ''Your vibe attracts your tribe''. 

And that's what I did. Surrounded myself with people that understand. People that care. People that are like me, share my passions, views, drive, love, insanity. People who's demons play so well with mine. And I learned the rest should stay in the past. I don't chase people no more, if you want to be in someone's life you make the time not excuses, so if you want to walk out of my life, there's the door. Hell I'll even hold it open for you. 

And you know what? It's been...fucking amazing. Running the risk of sounding a bit cliche but it's like the color is back in the world. Like the grayness and darkness lifted a little. Things are still gloomy and difficult, but they're no longer dominating. There's happiness in between. Being surrounded by happiness...it's...someting else. There's a smile plastered on my face non stop, my chest hurts from laughing not crying, I burned through a 100 page sketch book in a month, couldn't stop creating and without bragging, my art had never been this good. I've allowed the darkness to win and dominate my life for so long that these rays of sunshine now seem unreal. 

I'm still scared though, scared of all of this bursting like a soap bubble and landing in a deeper circle of inferno I've ever been in. I'm not exactly sure I'd cope with that. But you know what also? I'm pushing all these negative thoughts aside and living in the moment. Because what are we essentially if not just moments? Don't let those pass you by.