Arriving, living, feeling. Stopping, yet never quite still. Lately, there's this light that lingers on everything. A gentle warmth carrying a touch of longing. Like sunlight through half-closed curtains, the world feels softer and a little bittersweet. I'm letting myself feel it all, with no scripts, with no holding back. To love, to really love, is to open the windows wide, to let the air in, unafraid of what comes and goes. I want to say “I love you” and mean it, to send it out into the world like a message on the breeze. No expectation, just the truth of what is in me. Sometimes, life tastes unexpectedly (bitter)sweet. Not just in laughter, but in the quiet moments too. When something simple, like a shared glance or an inside joke, makes everything feel lighter. I want to gather those pieces and share them, as if small joys could be handed out in the palm of a hand. Other times, loving means sitting with what's heavy: staying close to the ache, accepting that closeness sometimes hurts. It's not always simple; some days love is patient, sometimes it's just being there in silence when words fail. Friendship isn't always tidy. Some stories come with tangled threads... but even then, there's a comfort in knowing someone else was there with me. I hold onto memories: faces, voices, promises whispered late at night. Not because I want to relive them, but because they remind me how deeply I've felt and how much I still can. Life keeps moving, and so do we. People come and go, stories twist, feelings shift, but what matters is the willingness to let new beginnings find us, even when we're still carrying old goodbyes. Endings and beginnings, all blurred at the edges. Sometimes, the line between them disappears, and it's just a matter of showing up again, open to whatever comes next. I don't want cleverness; I want realness. I want happiness, that's honest: the kind that glows even when it stings a little, that leaves a trace in places only I know. So here I am (again, humbly): uneven, but somehow equal parts sunlight and longing. Loving fiercely, missing gently, and choosing, always, to keep my heart open. Letting every feeling have its place, because that's what makes this all worth living. To every friend, every chapter, every unexpected arrival: thank you for adding color and sound to my days. Once again - I'm sure I said this the last time I wrote something... “This is me”: wide open, always arriving, never really saying goodbye. But sometimes leaving. With no farewells. While some lie with the moon, I prefer thinking I wake up with the sun. Almost like a fire beat. And when the sun goes down, he's not leaving permanently. But he also leaves. Not an empty room, but a beautiful, painted sky. I'm not saying I'm as big as the sun. But I feel the act of leaving could be better tolerated (or beautifully seen) if we draw parallels between the arrivals and the leavings with the way the sun behaves. The moon, as beautiful as she is, just stays there. Waiting for her moment to shine. If I wanted to be the moon, I would be Iapetus. And those I love would be Saturn. I'd be in orbit for you. Over you. You're the center of my gravity. Maybe I'm delusional. Maybe I'm too much realistic - definitely not the case. Maybe I'm just being me after all. Or maybe all I ever needed was to write things, to connect myself to... this. Whatever. After all, “(...) fuck forever... if you don't mind”. Love you. Always. --

August, 19th, 2025.