Showing posts with label emotions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label emotions. Show all posts

Monday, 27 June 2016

I know

On: How to move on

I'm on my own again. Listening to music in the middle of the night. Once I start thinking and stop to distract myself with playing stupid games, watching series, listening to podcasts, going out, drinking... once I start thinking... I feel weird. 

I've been here before. Suddenly walking my ways alone again. Sharing my life with so many people, but not having someone anymore whose door is open when I crawl out of the night club at 5 am. Whose bed is warm for me. Whose arms are always open.
It's all gone. The door is closed. For real this time. I know that we can live with it. I know I can. 
But right now it feels like something died. We buried the past and the potential future we had. This fact makes me sick. The fact that we look at each other, we see each other driving by on the street, we talk - but we are different. We feel wrong.h

This is the way that we love
Like it's forever
Then live the rest of our life
But not together
- Mika
(How sad is this fucking song?!)
All I want at this point is to move on, to get going again. It seems easy because my next year abroad is around the corner in september. 

And before that: The summer is here! It waits for me with assignments, university projects, a lot of work days, hopefully a lot of sunny wasted days at the nearby lake, festivals, holidays in Ireland and so much more!
I will be busy. I will be fine. I will have fun.
I know that. And I know he will move on, too. Seperate ways. 

One thing I am really looking forward to is a project I am doing with two really good friends. It's going to be a short film about a long distance friendship. The idea came up some time last year and has been sticking around since in the back of my head. Now is the time to do it - I ended the excuses and started telling people about it. I looked for and found a group in which I know this can work. Now we're looking for actors and start to write the script. Shit's gettin' real. ;)

How often have I told myself: "Just do it!" and then did not do it? I know I have to challenge myself
and do things I am afraid of to grow and experience new things. To be my best self. So that's what I do. 

All the nights that I doubt and waste my tears ... They're nothing I am proud of. 
My time on the internet. I mean, maybe there's some worth to it, for the language, for cultural reasons, for my ability to use and be native to social media. But in the end, it's nothing that I can show to my friends, my family, new people I meet. I want to have things that I created. "Look, what I've made, Mom!" 
Want these things to be meaningful in a way, worthwhile.

  
I look at my life and I look at all the beautiful things I've already did, relationships I built, what I wrote, what I filmed, what I thought was worth keeping and what ended up on some hard drive in the basement at my parents' house. I'm privileged as hell. I basically can do what I want and go wherever. 

I'm 21. I'm not obliged to make anything "work". I don't owe anyone. I am alone again. I guess that's alright. Now it may feel like I'll never be able to love again. But that is made-up bullshit, Lotta. You know that. Just let things happen. Just do you! Deep down I know that. I've been here before. 
I have got me, and overall I'm pretty happy with what I got.  

There are people who care about me - and people I care about. I don't let myself or them down because of money or a festival that was cancelled because of some realldy shitty bad weather (yeaaah) or a even shittier "Let's stay friends" break-up. 
I know it will also to take some nights to process all the shit that happened lately. I need to leave some room for questions, anger and grief. That's okay. But my life isn't over.

Keep your head up!
I am here trying to do the same.





 

Saturday, 2 May 2015

Hard to remember

On: Memory
I wish I had a Polaroid ...
So I could remember - Shwayze

Memories get blurry after a while. Do you remember who you spent this day with?
I do, because it was only last weekend when we jumped into the April-cold Belgian sea together

So this is something was occupied with in Uni a while ago (in my cultural studies lesson). But since then, it hasn't left my mind completely. It keeps spinning round and round and I'm still trying to figure out why it concerns me this much.


Remembering. And, inseperably connected to it, Forgetting.
I reflected on changing in the past. And changing goes along with creating different versions of yourself. The past-version of you is different from yourself today. If not superficially, I'm sure, under your skin. We learn, we evolve, we grow, we make mistakes and so we alter our habits, interests, lovers, opinions, friends and lived spaces. 

Nights out. Getting french fries at 3 am.
But what did we laugh about again...?
But we are able to remember our past-versions, so these things don't get lost forever. 
In a round of friends we discussed past-versions of ourselves in a bar. One said she used to be a total punk when she was younger, wearing ripped gloves and studded belts and she even had dyed her hair neon pink at the time. 
Another one told us about a wild phase of hers when she was desperately (but successfully) trying to get into night clubs even though she was underaged. Except the one time she and her friend got caught by the police and she recalled how frightened she was back then.

We wouldn't know and we couldn't tell these stories, if we weren't able to remember them. I read that (following recent research, but not for sure though)  the amount of data our brain can store equals 2500 hard drives of 1 terabyte. That means you could remember three million hours of TV shows and maybe there would be still space left to fill up in your brain. 

But still, all day long we perceive millions and millions of things, we see a lot of strange faces (if we decide to leave Netflix alone for a minute and actually leave the house - I know... absurd). I read (but I don't remember where...badum tss) that all the people who play roles in our dreams are real or parts of real people we have once encountered. Even though our consciousness can't remember them, unconsciously, a catalog of faces is stored in our mind and re-used to fill up random characters in our dream world. How crazy is this???



A picture I took  when I visited my brother the last time. How does his face look again?
(I'm kidding)


The point I wanted to make is that we are not only able to conserve a ton of things, thoughts, places, feelings - but there are at least another ton of things a day that we immediately (or after a short while) forget. Mostly things that our brain sorts out as "not important" or "irrelevant" for our life. That's why it is so hard to recall what you had for lunch on Tuesday, two weeks ago.
And why you may better remember that big fight with your brother you had on the exact same day. Memories that are connected to strong emotions, such as anger, are more likely to be categorized as "relevant" by our brain.

Sometimes our brain works in mysterious ways. What we keep can seem random. For example, I am very good at remembering song lyrics and exact lines from comedians or youtubers I enjoy watching... Pretty random - But who knows maybe someday this will save my life...? Well, rather unlikely. 
What we lose is terrible. Maybe we wanted to keep it - beloved childhood memories, nice days with friends and family or things you did with your boyfriend. But hey, it's gone. At least I don't remember having a good time with him. Do you?




Remember cuddles in the kitchen, 
yeah, to get things off the ground...?
It was up, up and away - Arctic Monkeys


No, for real: I am afraid of losing my memories. It is losing a part of yourself at the same time. 
What am I when I have no memories? I can't tell my story. I don't have a story anymore. I'm so sad and sorry for Alzheimer's patients. I am afraid of getting the disease. I don't want to forget. Noone wants to. Not being able to recall your own child's features. Imagine, your mom doesn't know who you are anymore. Just imagine.
Another fear of mine is that my memories aren't real. It's scientifically proven that we alter our memories everytime we bring them to our minds again. Which means that our favourite, most beloved memories are the most fake of them all.


So what are they, in the end? Memories are such blurry, unstable, unclear thoughts, emotions, they are partly or completely changed fragments of our past.
What do we do with them? - We build on them, we base our identity on them. We live and decide in ways that "experience told us". We trust them blindly. We cry over them. Constructs of our minds leading us. 
But in a different way, they are not solid, always changeable, always adjustable for now and the new actuality. The same story, concluded by a different moral. Or different way of telling it. It's fascinating. It's frightening. Is anything of it real?


Hey, remember last summer when
we decided to make "Guerilla Street Art" for one night?
In the movie of "Divergent" (I'm sure you know it, don't you?) it is possible to view the dreams of the protagonist on screen. That's utopic for us today (Or dystopic?). 
But I am quite convinced that we will be able to do this in reality in the future. Will we be able to see our memories, too? Like literally seeing them on screen, letting other people be part of it like they are watching a movie? Whaaat?!
We would be able to compare memories of different people of the same incident. We would realize why they are so sure about what "really happened" - each one telling a different version of the story. Awesome!

But in some way, it would be creepy and unpleasant, too. Because, like our dreams and inner thoughts (as long as we don't brag about them on the internet, like I love to do), our memories are private. They are some of the most intimate things. Some of them are even secrets. 
There are others we love to share, of course: Funny things that happened, good news, wedding plans, a good book we read last week... But some are restricted. Some may never be told at all. Not forgotten till the end - but not told to anyone EVER. How would we react if there were people that were able to show these memories on screen? Maybe using them against our will and against us? 


Away from this dystopic, controled(-by-evil-leaders), futuristic world! 
Back to my memories. I remember a line on the receipt of a bar in Paris. The bar was rather shitty. It tried to hard to be an Irish Pub and showed a lot of soccer and Rugby matches on badly placed TVs. The drinks were too pricy and the seats uncomfortably high set. 
But on the receipt it said the name of the bar and after it "Easy to find - hard to forget". In a way, this saying was ironic. In a way, I thought, in a sudden semblance of melancholy: This is what I want to be for other people. Or maybe this is already the case. 
Thought of my ex boyfriend. Thought of people I don't know anymore who were close friends 10 years ago. Thought of how many people I had forgotten. Thought of all the people who met me once and had already forgotten me


But mostly I thought about the people who will remember me.



 "I could die right now, Clem. I'm just... happy. I've never felt that before. I'm just exactly where I want to be."
(katarinavelika.files.wordpress.com)








Friday, 20 March 2015

Life Goes On

On: A trip to the past, Film-making, & Diary Headlines


I'm standing there. On a bridge across the Seine again, after all these months. It feels like last year, it smells like last year - but it is now. And my time in Paris is over and gone. Regardless of whether I'm there again or not. 
Everything is like it was, or so similar you hardly find the changes. But still: It's over.

This trip to Paris, these 8 days were not only a rollercoaster of emotions: happy, joyful, disappointed, sad, lonely, hopeful, empty, cozy, excited. 
They were a trip to the past. I accept this, but I still enjoyed every second of it. 


My favourite one. Promenade Plantée, Paris, March 2015

Finally, I've been to Pintes & Frites AGAIN (been there at least 4 times), the newly renovated Picasso Museum (soooo good, honestly), discovered a new bar, celebrated the birthday of my colleague in Kindergarten last year (who was in Paris, too, by chance), rested on the Promenade Plantée, danced into the night in one of my favourite night clubs (SHOWCASE!) under a bridge, met someone new, got excited to see 'The Subways' playing live at Le Trabendo, saw all my lovely girls from the picture of my bedside table again, stayed with my host family and played babysitter again (how I missed it... -.-), bought new books at Shakespeare & Co. (#NEED), ate a lot of cheese, went out eating in a fancy restaurant (with a creepy waiter, though), sat on the borders of the Seine and played Cards Against Humanity.
Doesn't that sound like hell of a trip? (To say it The Subways-like:) Oh Yeah

Side note: I'm gonna spread some of the mobile pictures I took randomly in this post, so don't get too distracted. [and: enjoy! ;) ]

Obla Di Obla Da - Life goes on, bra. La-la how life goes on - The Beatles
Life goes on. Here, back in Freiburg, my film project was waiting for me impatiently. Today, on the third day of turning the film, I'm excited about the nice pictures we took and how everything will turn out when we start cutting and montaging on monday! 


And this is what it looks like. The equipment
we got from University is worth 10k €.
Please don't break it - it's on my insurance!
But I too, once again, realize, how much work this is. And how fun it is! I can really see myself there, practically producing and developing movies. Telling stories for a living. This would be a dream coming true! 
It is hard work, it eats up your time. You have to focus but don't get lost in the details, there's still a schedule to follow and a dead line to meet. But in the end, you have your product, the story, the film. You have your creative effort in thing and you can show it to people, let it act on them. How do they perceive it? Can we communicate and discuss it?

Questions and thoughts like these are so interesting & fascinating to me. I want to change people's minds, I want to touch people's views, I want to give them words or pictures to make them wonder. 

Good news ahead: Next week, when we are cutting (and I'm hopefully desperately finishing my politics paper on the clash of civilizations), my best friend comes to visit me! Yeah 3X (quoting Chris Brown 'n' stuff). I'm really really glad to see him. We manage to stay in touch decently. But still, it's different in real life. Hugging and bitch slaps and that kind of stuff... ;)


He goes to (f*cking) San Francisco in August! I will miss him so much, but I'll better work to visit him there or I'm going to kick my own ass. And I'm taking Spanish courses this semester ! (but this is kind of irrelevant at this point...) 
Anyway, he visits me next week and he's going to meet my boyfriend for the first time and we will get drunk together. Long story short: It will be awesome!


If this is how Picasso liked to kiss, I'm worried about his partners...


Like the memories of Paris, the endless whinings about my romances, the sorrows and troubles and joys of my daily life and my wondering about bigger things - I keep them all in my diary.


#lifegoals: Being as cool as Charlotte
from The Subways
side note: This very best friend mentioned was the only person who was ever allowed to read (selected parts) of my diary. Yeah, THAT level of "best-friend-ship"

Here on my blog, too. But there's still some things that I only say to myself. But what's funny, and what I like to share with you (3 other people who read this and future-Lotta, of course, don't forget ya) are the headlines of my entries. 
I always write the exact time, the headline and the date, seperated by commas in the first line of a page.

Examples (translated to English):

20:38 h / I am a lying bitch / 6.8.14
18:01 h / The end. The beginning. / 8.8.14
0:50 h / Guerilla Art & riding my bike / 30.8.14 
1:31 h / Tinder again, being lonely / 21.9.14
1:05 h / new beginning - AGAIN, Freiburg / 12.10.14
0:03 h / Memories of Paris / 13.10.14
4:20 h / new people, Moritz, cafeteria party / 24.10.14
2:08 h / Just Like The Movies / 31.10.14
23:19 h / Independence + crying / 23.11.14
1:04 h / I already miss you - nobody's got time / 19.12.14
15:36 h / Cologne & a new year / 1.1.15
23:51 h / Spontaneous visit! + film production / 26.2.15

... If you'd take stats, you could figure I'm a night owl. And a ordinary girl who kind of cries a lot. (And speaks too loud, but that's another story). I don't know if you're interested in my diary. It seems you kinda are, since you are here, reading this shit. I really love you for doing this, honestly. I love you for caring about my life. You're not obliged to. I love you.


#Lifegoals: Appartment with balcony in Paris


My love for this place never gets old.
I said "Life goes on". And nowhere you can see this clearer than in Paris. 2 months after the terrorist attacks and assassinations, life flows by like ever before. The curfew of going to the park in Kindergarten has ended, finally. You spot graffitis of "JE SUIS CHARLIE" at every corner. And at République people still light candles when it gets dark and draw pens on the statue. But the city never stops moving. It eats people up, incidents get forgotten. Or at least buried under new ones. People have lives. Lives don't stop moving. People don't stop moving, either. It is our mechanism against fear. Against hopelessness, desperation - loneliness. Moving on, going a step further, leaving stuff behind. Lala - Life goes on. 
Sometimes it's easy.
But sometimes it's hard.


There are still people lighting candles every night.
There are still people who care.

Monday, 23 February 2015

In Between Times

On: a film project, turning points, the search for focus and "how to live"


While everyone is back home enjoying their holidays, I'm still here.
I'm working on a film project, first a 2-week (post-/production) course and later our own little 5-min-or-so-movie for university. It's fun and exhausting at the same time. 

I've never really realized how much work you have to put into just one tiny scene of a movie, containing 3-8 different shots (e.g. detail, panorama, close-up). Everytime you move the camera around (which can be quite tricky with its tripod, the mirophone, the lights...), you have to change or adjust all your settings again: The white balance (depends on indoor/outdoor shooting), the shutter dissolve to make sure you have decent lighting but no overexposure, the tone (which microphone type do you use? Are the background noises too strong? All voices audible?) and last but not least the focus.
If you're trying to film a person, always zoom in on the eyes and focus there (automatic peaking helps so much).

I learned what the golden ratio is and that you need a 3-point-light-system to make a person look sympathetic and well in your takes. Superficially, I learned how to cut scenes, cross-cut soundtracks and so on. The fun times we had when we shot our little Katy Perry parody (me and my bestie) in 2010, really helped me out with this. Because although we use Adobe Premiere now and used some shitty trial program back then, if you did cutting once, it's easy to get back into it later. It's no sorcery. 

All in all, I've put more effort in this course than in any other of the first and now past semester. Everyday 9 to 5 is not my usual uni schedule ;) . When I look around and see some of my fellow students and some friends that are studying, too, I get the feeling that I am quite okay with the balance of the work I do, with my stress level (all time low) and my free time, and especially "me-time". I used to set up too many appointments, join too many clubs and things; now I am trying to do a lot, but not too much. This semester, I finally retook karate as a long-missed hobby of mine. I still play the guitar (mostly at home though; here I only have my ukulele - But that's fine at least I'm working on it). I am in the "Fachschaft" which is a student council but in our little field of studies rather a coffee-drinking bunch of nice girls and one guy. Not so much about university politics, rather about planning a MKW blog (guess who's in for it?) and the christmas party. 

Recently, I noticed a relatively blank paper note in front of the cafeteria, saying "actors/actresses for student theater group wanted".
So I've joined a theater group. It's led by a philosophy Master student, Felix. Or better: Not led, but managed, because leading would sound too much like a hierarchy which we are clearly not (in his words). 
Yeah, it's a lot of fun. We're playing scenes from the play we want to get on stage, "Eleutheria" by Beckett, we're doing a bunch of funny impro theater games and practises or we discuss the great mysteries of our society like the gender trouble by a beer, a red wine, a whiskey coke and an apple juice (literally in this order at our table). They're all interesting, fun and creative new people. 


While collecting and brainstorming ideas for our own movie in the film project, I couldn't let go of that one vision of a film based on the butterfly effect. One little thing changed can be a great turning point in your life and can literally change everything. As an example we want to use a lovestory, okay, that was kind of obvious, two people meeting and falling in love, caused by one tiny decision by the girl. She chose M&Ms, not Snickers leading to her finding the man she will marry. We will put in some drama and the idea that going back and changing that candy decision could be possible. And that's it ;). 
These film ideas, not yet realized and haunting my mind, brought me the back a thought I had a while ago. About my own life, my own decisions and especially the one going abroad to Paris and how that changed everything and influenced everything. And how the choice of going to Freiburg for my studies influenced who I met and who I will going to meet here, how it excluded all the alternative routes my life could have taken. I could be in Düsseldorf, studying social sciences, in Cologne doing the same major but a different minor, in Stuttgart doing rather design than theoretical studies on media. 

I would have never met my current boyfriend. Or the new friends that I found here. Probably, no, certainly I would have found others. That would have changed me differently, affected me in another way than the people here are doing it now. I once said, and I still say it, that I don't want to go back. (#noregrets)
I believe that every decision we make out of feelings and reflection (Trust your guts!) is right at the moment and for our lives, even if it turns out to be shitty later on. The good thing is: Noone is punished for taking a turn, for following a new track or breaking off something you don't like doing. Life holds opportunities for anyone at any time. A gap in your CV might have been the best thing you have ever done. I know it's hard sometimes to keep it all in mind: The past, the future, the now. Keeping your shit together. Because in our studies, our work and our daily life we're often too concerned about what's going to happen: Tomorrow, next week, in 10 years. "When will we schedule the meeting? When will the exams take place? What will I do after I finished school? What do I want to do for a living? I have to save for my holiday plans..."
All this stuff is important, it's necessary in some ways. Keeps us going. And nobody is less attractive and convincing than someone who doesn't know what they want and in which direction they're headed. 

But on which field should we lay our focus on? There's also our past, producing and deleting memories every minute that goes by. We narrate it, it defines us, it makes us what we are today. And there's the NOW. Often celebrated, often over- and sometimes underestimated. You can't just live in the moment, because the moment passes too quickly. There will be always your memories, your stories connecting with the things you're doing now and the emotions you feel. Like the music my boyfriend put on this afternoon on his (vynil) record player (he's kind of a freak when it comes to music). It was Milky Chance, two german guys who make music you can dance or just dream to and who I discovered almost exactly a year ago in Paris. And saw them there, live.

Paris, La Défense, Festival Chorus, March 2014

Like you noticed, I immediately connected their voices, the soft tone of their chords and bass to the good times I had, riding my bicycle in Paris listening to their songs or the concert there at La Défense. I couldn't help myself, they made me smile, they took me back to moments long gone; I can't live without my past. Neither without my future, sneaking around in the back of my head where all the travel plans lie, the career goals. The house with the garden and the kids, in a golden fluffy dust of maybes. 


I can't live without your breath by my past, Babe                                                          I can't breathe without your life by my future                                                           I can't see clear without your teardrops in my eyes - Mando Diao

You can never live in any of those three states, those three times. You're not able to focus on one thing, like the camera does. You always mix up the three, they are like ropes, each pulling you towards another hole. Don't get caught up by one or you'll fall. You get lost. Maybe in dreams of how it could be, or in nostalgic memories, or in the moment, by doing drugs or loving someone you know there will be no future with. Fuck, it's harder to live than I thought it was.

What I wanted to say in the first place, was, that I think that I'm relatively good at managing the ropes and not letting me be pulled into a hole. Although I have a week of holidays in Paris planned and I am sooo up for falling in that hole, at least for a week ;). 


And we were bound to the citylife. Flashlights when we're falling into the night. Focused on what you feel; just when you were calling her love that day - Milky Chance


Everyhing is going well with my boyfriend, at least I'd say so. He's a big part of my present (and my near past, as you may recall). 
And maybe of my future... *dramatically romantic stare into infinity* 
Naaah, you guys know me. A little bit of hopeless romantic behaviour never killed nobody. 

I really like him. He's a good one. :) In contrast to former relationships or relations to guys I am sure that he likes me back, that he is honest and would never cheat on me - Umm, according to this list, he's almost perfect. I'm still making plans on travelling with my friend in summer, I have tickets for a festival, I dream of the next time being abroad longer, of doing language courses, of visiting people. Okay now enough with the shameless self-promotion by linking you to older posts. What I wanted to say is:
I'm holding the ropes, I'm keeping my balance.
Ok, done with this rope metaphor- I'm living my life.
In between different times and states of minds. But overall, I'm fine.

Monday, 12 January 2015

Naked

On: intellectual, emotional connection (and a little bit of sex)


I want to be close to you. 
I am talking about close in the sense of the metaphysical approaching of two souls. Not in the sense of: Let's get naked and have an "adult slumber party" together (to choose Tyler Oakley's words).

I just wanna see you strip, right now. Cause it's late, babe                                            Girl, I just wanna see you strip, girl take your time with it - Chris Brown  
(No, Chris Brown, not like that! And even if you've got rhythm - there's no chance I am taking any advice from you!)

Is this a "first world problem"? (not that any of the topics discussed on this blog or in this context weren't first world problems...) Or is it just that for me it is neccessary to have a strong intellectual connection to be in a real relationship? I don't know but it's kind of hard for me to bond with you emotionally and on a conversational basis if we just have sex any minute I am in closer distance to you than 3 feet. Okay, maybe this was a bit over-dramatic. But you get my point, do you?

Don't get me wrong - We're having an awesome time, you and me (and awesome sex, #TMI for anybody else). But is this all there is? I hope that I'm wrong. I hope there is much more. 
This quote really puts into words how I feel like:


Please, tell me what your biggest fear is. Please ask me about my favourite place and all the names of the pets I had in my childhood. Please, let's discuss sexism and what we can do about it. Please, tell me who you love the most in your life. Please, tell me: Did you cry last night? And why? Please show me the drawings or poems or texts or songs noone is allowed to see. I'll show you mine. Please hand me your soul so I can touch it and keep it and  we can truly be together. 
... Well, this is going a bit further than planned. But you get it, do you? 

Maybe this helps: When I was younger I felt very uncomfortable being naked. Like naked-naked. Because it was hard for me to accept my body, my flaws (I guess I never woke up like this..). I didn't look like I wanted to look, I felt too chubby in a few and too thin in many places. Especially being naked with another person around was everything but enjoyable and always a big deal for me. 
It's not that this is the complete opposite and I spontaneously undress myself today in any situation - Gosh, I just do that all two weeks and only when I am in university.
 (not sure: do I have to underline that I'm joking?)

Yes, this is a picture of my belly - I feel no shame.
No, it's about how with time, experience and with many hours and self-conviction of "looking-at-yourself-in-the-mirror-and-realizing-that-this-person-is-you-and-that-you-are-beautiful" (and listening a lot to James Blunt) I got to a point where I can say: I'm not ashamed to be naked anymore. It is a good thing to say and to be.

But now, let's take this one step further. 
With projects like this blog, my journal and my ongoing mind carousel of reflecting on my everyday life, what I do and what I'm like, I try to figure out who I am. More importanly, to accept that person, that soul, that human that is me and only me. Because: You know, that you have to stick around with yourself till the end. No matter what. 
I guess you can draw a comparison of my naked ashamed self to myself who doesn't know who she is yet. Or maybe I kind of know it now. And I hope that you know who you are, too. 
Or maybe there lies the problem. Is it so? 
I want to let go of the shame and share with you what I have got to say. 
What's burning on my mind. And I want you to do the same for me. To me. With me. Tell me. 

“When did we see each other face-to-face? Not until you saw into my cracks and I saw into yours. Before that, we were just looking at ideas of each other, like looking at your window shade but never seeing inside. But once the vessel cracks, the light can get in.The light can get out.” ― John Green, Paper Towns

Certainly, I can't do it like that. I can't force you to strip your mind like I can't force you to strip your clothes. You would feel uncomfortable, you wouldn't feel right. (I really don't want to rape you, ok?) 

So I have to wait. 
Until you open up for me voluntarily. Until you let me see through your cracks. I know that it's light what's waiting there. I try to be patient and I really do understand that not everybody is as upfront and open about their most personal thoughts and feelings, as I am sometimes.

I just wanted to let you know: I'm honest. I'm in love with you. You can trust me.
You can be naked in front of me.