I am, and before belonging to concepts, rules and situations, I am from my private investigation, I am from my time. I am from idleness, laziness and pleasure for nothing. I am also in a hurry for affection. From the silence that is reluctant to exist. I am of the others when I want and I usually want at the wrong time, I am from myself because of the need of solitude.

I am from the world and especially of my world inhabited by the same joy even if it is fleeting. I am from the shortcut because I am in a hurry, always, I am out of the wind because of my impatience of flying. I am from the jungle by nature. I am from banality because of the extreme need to relieve my guilt and desires.

I am from the affection that I have destined myself for. From my everyday life. I am from the busy days. From dark nights. From the infinity of the sea.

I am from the illusion. From the confused comings and goings. The insistence on history. I am a believer, a dreamer and losing myself in novel. Surrendering and then regreting. I am with the aching longing and the agonizing waits.

I am of my vast imagination. A survival, from the occasional sorrows, from the unanswered questions. From the answers without questions.

I am from the plans without reasons. I am everything and sometimes out of nowhere. From flighting out of fear. From reason by obligation. Praying by devotion. From faith to prayer.

I am from it is worthwhile. From eternal moments. From memories. I am not ashamed to be.

I am Bia Esmer… a silly poetess … ❤