being
a collab
This collab between me and Samu (including artwork and a poem by me and an essay by Samu) is about „being“, which is a central thread for both of us, probably for many people.
crippling fog smoothly rises taking possession —being becomes paralysis impalpable I lose myself inside increasing opaqueness —no reverse flow —adapted no more friction sliding into unconsciousness
quiescently trapped inside an impermeable void norms aspirations commitments —submerging pressure straining against the thick shell —until it cracks breaks bursts
rough edges breach the vaporous veil —a restoring fissure distinct luminosity pierces through vague perceptions —of who I am I densify the outlines to emerge —out of the blurriness
I guess being who you are requires courage, strong boundaries and self-confidence, all of it I lack sometimes. (wf)
Being I was addicted long before the first line touched my skin. Addicted to love, to validation, to all the labels I was given to explain who I am and what is supposedly wrong with me. I wanted to understand, to organize, to control, as if life could be held together with enough discipline and awareness. But at some point, everything was lost: the grip, the noise, the “I.” What remained was a collapse a quiet disintegration of body and soul, of everything that once defined me. And right there, in that emptiness, being began. Being does not feel soft. Not at first. It is nakedness. A state without role, without direction, without escape. When everything falls away work, relationships, future images only this unfiltered present remains. It burns. It draws tears to the surface, like the sea lifting fog into the air. And yet beneath this layer of pain there is something that holds, silently: a warm space that asks for no proof. No becoming. No obligation. No goal. Just being. With time, the silence begins to speak. Not loudly. Almost imperceptibly. It settles over old wounds like light on tired skin and says without words: It was never wrong. I am learning to meet my own voice in this silence not the voices that made me small, not those that told me I had to become something in order to be, but this quiet pulsing beneath fear, a tender I am that demands nothing. Addiction gave me wings and took the sky at the same time. Closeness did not save me. It only taught me how deeply solitude can breathe. Today, I am here. Just like this. With my pulse. My heartbeat. My breath. This quiet being with myself, without goal, without reason, is not a loss. It is a homecoming. Samu
 | A guest post by
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Thank you, Wildflower 🤍
for holding this space together.
Being, without performance, without becoming.
I’m grateful for this shared quiet.
Beautiful ♥️