Tag: feelings

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Exploring the Essence of Love

beatrizesmer

Love is love, hands down. It exists in all possible forms, and I revel in its intensity, allowing myself to romanticize endlessly and dwell in its depths as far as I wish. Yet, to me, there is a distinction. I can fall in love with someone I don’t know. I can. But I can’t love them. It’s not about knowing the person either. I won’t focus on the necessity of knowing aspects of them. It’s just that I believe I should feel the person. Not mentally, not physically – but soulfully. If I haven’t even talked to that certain someone, … Continue reading Exploring the Essence of Love

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Revolutionary Subjectivity and True Love

beatrizesmer

In a world where deeply entrenched ideologies and conservative ways of thinking have solidified mechanisms of social control, the most revolutionary life might not even appear political. To pretend we are still politicized subjects is to miss the point. In our era, a truly revolutionary life might not engage in what is traditionally seen as radical politics, agitation, or organizing. These practices, with their ideologies of self-sacrifice, discipline, instrumental calculation, and personal profit, are functions of contemporary bureaucratic capitalism. Instead, a revolutionary life might commit to creating a new subjectivity that fractures the inert base of contemporary depoliticization, making political … Continue reading Revolutionary Subjectivity and True Love

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My Age, My Journey

beatrizesmer

My age continues with the house lights on, casting a warm glow that patiently waits for other lights to join. In this illuminated space, my mind thinks, studies, research, and loves. It decides to fight for noble causes, embracing the battles that matter. Amidst all this, it shelters my humility, a quiet strength that guides me through the journey. As the days pass, I find solace in the gentle hum of life around me. The house lights flicker with the rhythm of my thoughts, each one a beacon of hope and resilience. I am not alone in this endeavor; the … Continue reading My Age, My Journey

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Shared Springs

beatrizesmer

The river that flows into me comes from the same spring as yours. I feel its gentle currents weaving through my soul, a reminder of our shared origin. Each ripple carries whispers of our intertwined destinies, echoing the harmony of our beginnings. As it meanders through the landscape of my being, it nourishes the roots of my existence, just as it does yours. In moments of stillness, I sense the unity of our paths, the way our waters merge and diverge, only to find each other again. The river is a testament to our connection, a silent promise that no … Continue reading Shared Springs

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The Art of Silence

beatrizesmer

People speak so many words in order to express feelings, yet I gave up on words when I realized that verbalization tends to often be a waste. I don’t believe in words anymore. Sure, they’re beautiful, but there is a huge difference between saying and doing things. Like the difference between the cold perfect roses bought in a flower shop only on Valentine’s Day and the simple wild rose picked from a fence and brought as a surprise in the evening just to steal a kiss from your lover. You see, it’s true, nothing is more articulate than a kiss. … Continue reading The Art of Silence

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The Beautiful Chaos

beatrizesmer

In the corners of our hearts, where vulnerability blooms like wildflowers, there lies a truth: perfection is a mirage, a shimmering oasis we chase across shifting sands. But oh, my dear, let them call you imperfect—a tapestry of frayed edges and mismatched threads—because therein lies your magic. You are not a polished marble statue, cold and unyielding. No, you are the mosaic of life’s tempests—the erratic brushstrokes on a canvas, the ink smudges in a forgotten journal. Your flaws are not blemishes; they are constellations—each scar, each trembling uncertainty, mapping out your journey. Call me damaged, and I’ll wear it … Continue reading The Beautiful Chaos

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The Fluidity of Love

beatrizesmer

I am struck by how easily some people change their love, as if it were merely clothing to be exchanged. This fluidity in shifting from one partner to another reveals much about human nature. When we commit to another, we begin a journey of discovery—not just of them, but of ourselves. However, in this intimate mirror, we often avoid the truths it unveils, choosing instead to acknowledge only what is convenient and transient. The pretext for our shifting affections lies in the annoyances that arise, the passion that once burned bright now dulled by the complexities of life. We seek … Continue reading The Fluidity of Love

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Longing and Love

beatrizesmer

And if I loved you one day, small and calm, tiny and light, like the wind that has forgotten its path, wandering through alleys, getting lost in curves, spreading into the river, would your fingers discover my hair, would your hands find my legs beneath my dress, would your voice resist the noise of the trees? And if I loved you one day, tall and wide, big and bigger, close to the sky, on a wing, against the sun, loose and free in the silent flight of a bird, would your eyes join mine on an unlikely horizon, would your … Continue reading Longing and Love

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Time

beatrizesmer

How to stop time: kiss. In the tender embrace of a kiss, time stands still. The world fades away, leaving only the warmth of another’s touch, the soft whisper of breath, and the beating of hearts in unison. It is in this fleeting moment that we find eternity, a timeless connection that lingers long after the kiss has ended. How to travel in time: read. Through the pages of a book, we embark on journeys to distant lands and forgotten eras. Each word is a portal, each sentence a bridge to another world. We traverse the annals of history, walk … Continue reading Time

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Time

beatrizesmer

When did I become so old? The question lingers in the air, a whisper of time’s relentless march. The woman staring back at me from the mirror is a stranger, her eyes a reflection of years gone by, yet her spirit remains untouched by the passage of time. Clearly, the woman I see in the mirror is not the woman held prisoner inside this broken body. She is vibrant, her heart beating with the rhythm of dreams yet to be fulfilled. Her laughter echoes with the innocence of youth, a melody that defies the lines etched upon her face. Her … Continue reading Time