W O R D

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When words cannot explain.

Postered and seen in Berlin, however I never made it to Homies Half this weekend. Bridging the Gap, some totally different gap with an unsuccesful and perhaps on purpose done attempt the other way this time. No run, no fun. Though I ran, but rushed perhaps. Not memorable whatsoever. Gap remains.

Looking at poster kids’ feed known as social media recreational buddies and strangers having fine words put underneath their well filtered social life so called, I envied and missed and remembered. More intensively I liked with doubletapping all.

Adding the rain and the feeling of being left out of something resulted huge clouds over me, even more rain whatsoever, but no drops of cry on the face. But it wasn’t probably the real reason itself. I know how these IG pages work similarly to mine, you sure post when high life happens, the real things might not be as intense and saturated as filtered and remembered in posts. Real. Still, Berlin must have been great. Goes for the rest of the world. But words just cannot give back the real thing.

Words. Said and interpreted, and misunderstood perhaps. I know it’s been said. One day it gives a slap, the next day when true meanings finally pushed to be said out once again, understood differently and therefore reacted on perhaps a totally different way. From devastated to heartwarming, welcome to the real world.

From rain to sunny.
April’s weather like April’s words.
Even though it is still March.
Interpretation leads to questioning leads to therapy running.
This time with a pace quite bearable, though getting my wings back, what a difference a day make. From no run day to run day in a 24 hours turnaround. Just be you.

Starting to understand myself, what is the so called me lately. Mondays are no run days. I believe what I think, and lately I think and believe taking a day off gives no justice to my mood. Closest to the ground I sometimes even wish to hide just like an ostrich. Cannot wait for the next day, because than comes happylife, or so I believe. Why am I making a fvcking routine even out of my mood when I hate routines just as much as the wind. Maybe even more. Mantra-ing just be you. It always happen when weekend is long and communication is limited with online minutes if not seconds.
Naturally words are misunderstood and interpreted based on mood phrases. And also depend on full and half moon, full and half empty stomach, and the deepness of the eyes. Running can help, or so I believe.

Running is so me. Even though sometimes wish balett was me, or something more feminine and more beautiful. But today’s mood tell me I ‘just be you’.

And seriously mantra this over and over, and it might just work. Today it worked the best way. Seem Tuesdays are something special.

Just as running in the morning worked too. Starting in the dark like sneaking into the morning lights, and opening up with the eyes being wide shot to bright open. How the face changes from tiredness to liveliness in no second. From smile to even more smile. Words cannot describe, not that it is needed anyways. Just be you.
The legs do the work, and keep the rhytm by hitting the ground, even when flying. Still a slight etheral touch to embrace. The fine interaction between concrete and designer soles, meaningful attachment. Even if for a short second or less, it is necessary. Law of physics.
Chemistry too. In other ways. Starting from a smile formulated words become loud even if whispering, so close. No misunderstanding here. Silence works too. Today just be you.

What a difference a run makes.
Harmony for Tuesdays.
Tuesdays for everydays please.

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