It was the most wonderful day of my life. I was on my hills, with the cows, all alone. The wind was blowing in my face and I was crying at it “Louder! Blow louder!”. A storm was coming and it was MY storm. I felt as if I was controlling the mere forces of Nature. I had The Power.

Then some man came. He had to take me away, to the other side. Those were his orders. I could have been Master of the Storm, but I had to obey the orders. So I left without delivering my storm upon my hills.

Ever since, the storm haunts me inside from time to time.

Let the nightmares begin.


Where did all the guilt go? I searched it today and it wasn’t there. It wasn’t an empty place, either.

Even if I don’t like what has come of our most dependent relation, we can still manage it. Did you make the guilt go away? Did therapy do it? Now I acknowledge that each person is responsible for its own emotions. Yes, you are the only one responsible for your emotions. Meaning you feel what you choose to feel. Scary and empowering, ain’t it?


I’m more self-centered than anyone I know. Helps with my goal to develop my intra-personal IQ.


I don’t want you to chase my demons away. They are ME. This is how the guilt fades. By slowly accepting the part of me that did bad things. And by taking responsability for those actions, by assuming them.

Other people can purify themselves by getting rid of the dark things in their selves. I can’t do it.

I have to swim in the puddle of mud, to get to the bottom of the hole. I have to accept my darkness to appreciate my light. Good thing I know where the bottom of my puddle is. And I hope I’ll never get there anymore.

There are some advantages when you start early with harsh things and depression. If you get over them alone as a teenager, most hard things that will come won’t seem that hard. And you’ll have a terrible life experience to help you understand and empathize easier with others.


You know, I’ve heard a lot of stories. Most of them were much worse than mine. Abused children, parents that would kick the hell out of their kids, kid abandoned in a train because he pissed on himself. Abused women, taking it all because “women always suffer”. Abused men, not knowing what to do with their emotions (=weaknesses) and alienating everyone around them.

But no matter how haunting those stories were and how much I empathized with their tellers, at the end of the day, the face in the mirror was mine and only mine. We all have our boots to walk in, and ours are heaviest boots.

At the end of the day, the voice inside your head saying nasty things is still (apparently) yours. It’s your body you have to live in. It’s your people you have to meet tomorrow and everyday.

Until you say goodbye.

You may say goodbye for good. The body doesn’t necessarily need a conscience to breathe.

Or you may end up with a plastic cup of burning poison through your fingers. And that’s when you wake up and you promise that nobody in the world will take your power anymore.

And that’s how you become a Master of the Storm.


I remember. This is the 4th collection of 7 years. 4 cruel summers.


I was born in the season of rain and lingering flowers and cold announcing clouds.