Playground

  
Running.

It’s a playground out there, fill myself up with the run, in wind in cold, no matter the circumstances, harsh out there, playing tactical, racing myself, pushing some limits, only to realize my own worst enemy is to play the tactical playground. 

The city where I don’t mind the wind, the cold. For a brief moment I put on a smile while fighting with the hazelrain and the wind against and dare to show the teeth to the cold, I even sound like laughing, but in fact I’m thinking … To be there and to show it, the places, the athmosphere, the life which fills me up, although I’m ever so tired and sad. But the moment, when the smile came up to my face I realize the perfect moment never if ever to come true, I still smile, I still laugh. Brief and honest and beautiful. It is a playground out there, and I cannot play along if tactical and even logical thinking is involved. I play serious on emotions, I always did, and I will always do. 

On the way back home we accidentally run into each other I daydream, and in fact I do meet up with someone I know from running. I feel human, and I read some texts from the past just to drop the stone, though I can’t keep with reading words were heavy and beautiful now turned silence or even worse, empty words. My luck. 

Me, myself and I won’t let myself down, whatever however whoever can think whatever about me, I know I feel and this is what I will never ever regret. Being me. And playing myself. 

Accepting the terms and conditions as it is, warm heart I proudly present and keep on running. 

Because running makes partly who I am not obsessively but pretty addictively, additionally to something I would like to take care if and that is myself. #melearning

Days come and go, mood rise and shine just to turn blue or even grey the next moment, but this is what it is called life. Playing no playing here, I feel love and I guess this makes me alive, and although it is tough sometimes, I am greatful for that even when I cry. Because deep inside it is still a smile, for what I am, and I’m thankful for that. And seriously I try not to give a shit what others think. Confidence is something I won’t ever own, building myself up therefore is hard, and feeling lost makes me emptied too, although I just said I’m fine, I guess not, there should be a button I could switch and change the mood. Anytime.

But I’m fine too surprisingly, Fine/NotFine at the same time, parts are ok, partially working, parts are devastatingly awful, but I guess it could be worse. Running makes me beautiful and beautifully tired. Running makes me cry, so much to swallow on the salty water along the way, and those are not sweat, those are tears, the ones come with the moments of getoverit, but I just can’t and won’t because I love. Not like getting into the finishline only, nor the rundorphins that play around, not for a brief moment, before already starting on thinking the next race and the next pace. Not like being a butterfly flying from one shoulder to another. It is permament, … when you find your inner peace, only in this case, no peace involved. And there is no finishline.

Fighting with ever emerging thoughts whether it really worth it, the question and its object remains, but the answer might not be as important at all, being honest to myself it is ok to feel and it is  even better if not the best to feel so much. 

I’m not playing around. Fvck it. 

Meanwhile I’m munching and enjoying on some Godiva squares I had to buy at least for the good old times of the Amsterdam feeling. 

And now I’m back in the hoods.

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