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Pour

I like the rain

So when it falls i can cry with it.

Is this a good way to describe it?

What i feel when it rains?

I don’t want to name the feeling

But , imagine it

the rain pouring

And you out there not knowing why you’re pouring…

Mother tongue

Sa do te doja

Sa do te doja te ulesha e te shkruaja per ore te tera per ndjenjat e mija. Jo qe dikush te mi lexonte me vone, por qe une te mundesha te lexoja per ndjenjat e mija. T’i njihja me mire, te ndihesha me e hapur me veten.

Do te doja qe zemra te mos me rrihte papushim , e gjaku qe me vlon neper vena te mos e ndjente kete presion. Do te doja qe veten ta kontrolloja, e kur flas per kontroll dua te them te ndaloj se shtypuri cdo ndjesi qe me kalon nen lekure. Ato ndjesi qe me jep truri sa here mendoj dicka e dua ta shkruaj e t’ja shpreh vetes qe nuk eshte gabim te ndjesh me zemer te hapur. Epo, boll me iu shmange vetes.

-Nga çka ke frike kaq shume?

Shume do te doja te dija se nga c’druhet ky trup i gjere e i shkurter qe dita dites struket drejt errsires duke menduar te pakten 2 arsye se pse mbijetoji edhe sot.

-ja per kete e kam fjalen edhe une.

Keto fjalite e gjata qe po ti lexosh dy here te ben te vesh duart mbi koke se as vete ti nuk arrin te gjesh nje kuptim

E ja tek jam une qe leshoj veten ne oret e vona te nates , se ndihem keshtu si ndihem e pertypem keshtu si pertypem.

Nese ka nje rruge te lehte per te ndenjur e qete ne kete ore aspak zhurmuese , te lutem ma trego.

Kete bisede e ben truri me zemren cdo nate. Epo kete nate i pushova te dyja.

Ne qofte se me pushim dua te them qe mora guximin e po ulem te shkruaj , atehere kete emer vendosi ama shume do te doja te dija se si njeriu merr kurajo te bej gjera qe ne te vertete nuk ka fuqi ti mendoje e jo me ti ndjeje.

Epo , shkruaj dreqi e morri se do te ndihesh me e lire , do te ndihesh me mire. Ja pra , as nje sinonim te bukur per fjalen ‘ mire’ nuk ma ze truri.

Pres ta perjetoj.

Ndoshta jam dhe bipolare qe e vendos veten ne kete pozite ku lodhja e mendjes nuk iken as me gjume.

Po c’po flas keshtu. Po flas e po shkruaj po dhe keto mendime qe ne vend te thuren afer e afer me vjen te bertas ne menyre qe cdo rresht te shkruhet vete. Po si mund te shkruhet vete , kur vete une kam frike te shkruaj?

Po si mund te pres te me zere gjumi , kur une vete nuk dua te fle?

Ndihem lakuriq perballe fletes , se keto mendime truri im nuk i koncepton dot as neper endrra jo me te marre kurajon e te shprehet diku.

Prisja qe gjithe ku deshperim te ikte , sic kalonin stinet me dite te bukura e me dite te strukura . Por buzeqeshja vesh me vesh me ka cuar ne trishtim zemer mbi tru.

Tani, kurajon per te lexuar se c’kam shkruar kush do ma japi?

?

An idea of what it’s like to write in your mother tongue

Notebook (raw)

I hid my notebook a while ago.

Locked in, somewhere safe

In a place i couldn’t reach it easily.

I thought , for a split second

That if i could ‘disconnect’ myself for a while

This gut feeling would go.

Because for a while i thought ,

Maybe this is the right thing to do.

Giving myself some kind of a cryptic message,

Maybe t’were me

that was holding these feelings

Hostage.

I was hidden for a long time

Woke up today and couldn’t do this anymore

I could escape

But i didn’t want to.

I think that might be a good start

Reality hit me

I read somewhere.

A writer writes what he knows. What i seem to know is only sadness. I have been refusing to accept. The unacceptable. The struggle is real. Believe me. Avoiding the unavoidable. The unacceptable situation i perpetually put myself in.

To avoid the unavoidable

I wrote that in bold

Because that is a bold thing to do

To write when you’re hurting

Pen Pen Pen

The ink of my favourite pen

Is running out

And with it

My soul is running out

You dont get it

People will say

Buy another one

Or even

Buy the exact same pen.

But it will be different now

Like with this pen

I gave my voice to my thoughts

Its not easy,

Starting a new page,

with a new pen..

Rainy day

I couldn’t

Put my glasses on today.

So there is that.

Eyelashes loaded with heavy clouds

Ready to pour.

There was 80% of the chances that it would rain today.

Not a weather forecast

Assumingly,

(Takes a deep breath one more time)

That i could wipe away the clouds

So i could reach the sun.

It was not about him being too far away

Or that i couldn’t reach him,

It was more than that.

Trusting the process,

Leading the way towards this light

That i so much ‘insist’ on having

Will it be the end of this?

What is exactly that I want to achieve?

Is it the clouds to be gone?

Or is it the sun what i am really after ?

Lost a bit

Do you ever

Read all your thoughts the next day you wrote them?

Is it just me , or the emotion is not the same

Don’t get me wrong

It’s not like you cant feel the moment you just had

It is not that you forget the feeling

It grows into you

It becomes you

In a way that if you had the chance to feel the same thing twice

You wouldn’t let it go away

You would want to feel it

Because your body needs to feel it

But can you though?

Can you feel the feeling that you felt yesterday

Just like that?

Without changing a thing

Right now listening to Numb by Linkin Park

Ps . I was so angry when i wrote this

Scream

Because that will make u feel better

But it will not change things

They will still be the same

The ego-ers, the crushing soul-ers

You will feel

Stupid

Naive

All at once

But never helpless

The same you ,got you into this

The same you ,will get you out of this

Touché

May this sound a little cliché

If i say

No one dared to get to know the real me.

The empty me

The numb me

The one that mood changes every five minutes.

The smiley me

The sad me

No one dared to get to know the happy me

Long time no see

Attacks

Stimulation of the heart

When my voice broke down when you last called me

When my heart fractured the cage i put myself

In order to protect her

Not from you

From the damage she got

From missing you

How

How

Can i record the feeling that i know i m gonna miss

How can i film the touch

How can i remember this or that

Is it possible for me to keep these memories in my little pocket

Just so if i were feeling low i could go back in time

Feel the feeling that once made me feel good

I will miss this

I will miss the wind

The sound of rain

I will miss myself too