Best friend.

When I was a little and somewhat losing people, I thought having a best friend was about having “my person”, somebody I could have forever, someone who would be there for me, someone who would never fight with me or turn against me.

It was a pretty magical notion to be true.

I thought having a best friend means constant contact, conversations everyday, good days everyday, and I thought it meant having the world in one person, but reality is complicated to comprehend and yet it’s beautiful when you finally do.

I recently came to terms with the idea that a best friend is in fact not somebody who will never ever argue with you, it is somebody who will fight with you the most, whom you will want to punch out of anger, but you will overlook the rage and choose to understand, whom you will forgive a million times if needed.

It is somebody who cannot always be there with you, everyday, but when you need them they leave the world behind. It is somebody who constantly annoys the hell out of you, makes fun of you, but respects you the most. It is somebody who has the courage to forgive, to reconcile, to build from the broken again, to make a home from what is left.

It is somebody who gives meaning to the word ‘forever’

Somebody beautiful told me something I wish I had understood long ago, that best friendship is about quality and not quantity with regards to time, memories, or conversations. It’s about how meaningful they make your life.

It is about having people who you can go back to, regardless of the time chasms, no matter how bitter the end, 

and when you do, 

it’s just the same as it was where you left off.

-Marlyn Pereira

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Let me in. 

Tell me about your dreams. 

I want to know the kind of monsters 

that have been haunting the corners of your brain.

Show me the darkest flaw so I can love you more.

I want to know the beasts 

that you have fallen in love with, 

helplessly, while you found no escape.
Tell me about the happiest moments of your life, 

those that are sunshine beyond the clouds, 

those that keep the light, 

while your eyes turn black and your skin pale,

no matter how grey the sky begins to turn, 

those that don’t let you lose the fight.
I want to know you like nobody does, 

Perhaps that is what they say love is, to know.

I want to see what it is, to be beyond your skin.

Baby, don’t hold a wall against me, 

I don’t want to be a wrecking ball, 

I don’t want to destruct your guard, I just want to be let in.
I just want to be let in. -WANDERER // ” Let me in “

Mother’s day.

I bought flowers for a lovely lady today. One of the strongest women I know and I wondered if my kids would do the same for me. I wondered if I would be a good parent. 

Mother’s day, one day, for all the mother’s in the world. 

For the ones who do the world for us, and even though gone unnoticed they never stop. “Would I be able to be that selfless?” “Would I raise my children right?” “Would I be able to fight the word for them like my mother does for me?”

Questions like these were all over my mind, as I handed these to the one of the strong women I look up to. 

And In that moment I watched strong eyes melt,

I watched a fortress crumble down for a second and build up again, and I realised it was so easy to make a mother feel loved. 

The smallest gesture could make their day, yet, we don’t take the time to make them realise how much they mean to us.
Why do we need a day, a reason, to tell our mother’s that we love them? Why do we need so much courage to simply show our mother’s that they are in fact, our entire world? 

Why do we shy away to do something so small for the ones who would give up their everything for a smile on our faces.

-WANDERER // Mother’s Day 

Melito Saldanha

04. Winds of change. 

He was not just my reflection 

We could’ve been just a mirrors work

an outline, indefinite.

He was not just what I saw through glass and on it.

He was so much more than that.

He was everything I was. Everything I would be. 

I could see my face in his eyes 

and in his soul, I saw mine.

Time was just a measurement of something earthly. It didn’t matter when I met him

We didnt feel new. 

Us didn’t feel like something that had just begun

maybe because my soul met his a long time ago,

and maybe because I had known him all along.

It could’ve been an illusion 

Us.

but I touched us. 

I stretched my hand out and touched what we had 

and it didn’t turn to dust.

It was tangible and I knew it was true,

but that’s not the reason why I believed in it. 

That it was tangible and apparent, wasn’t the basis of my faith in us.

What lead me to have faith in us was the times that it wasn’t evident.

When darkness opened its arms and embraced us, for life demanded it, I put forth my hand and couldn’t touch us, what we had. In the darkness, I couldn’t find us, 

but when I closed my eyes and let the fears silence themselves, I knew, I knew love was still there. I knew we were intact, unbreakable and alive.

I knew that in the dark somewhere, 

We were there, 

and we were together. 

I’ve never been sure about anything in my life. 

Changes frighten me, 

but not with him. The decree of uncertainty is just a distant voice in the background, barely heard, declining, and long gone..

I have never been the kind to be sure of anything, I know change is inevitable but 

I know that even through times that don’t seem so beautiful, and when life makes chaos swirl

we will be against this raging world

and through everything 

we will be…

We will always be

Transparent.

Standing on the edge of something beautiful, 

I watched what made me believe,

that the sun came back for me. 

The wind was rusting through my hair, fighting it’s way into me 

and for once 

I did not feel stone. 

I did not feel the concrete,

the plastered me, that I had created. 

I felt the wind go through and through, 

inside my veins and my blood.

I couldn’t feel my body but 

for some unknown reason, 

all I felt was your fingers wrapped around mine.

My system was nothing,

and all I felt was that wind.

In that moment I knew, 

at the edge of something beautiful

no matter how breathtaking the view was, 

It was never the place that set me free. 

It was never the language the sun spoke to me, neither was it the music of the stars, 

or the random silhouettes of the night and the moonlight, 

but it was always You.

No matter where the place,

You were what made me feel transparent. 

You were what liberated me. -WANDERER / Transparent. 

N o r m a l c y 

I despised the idea of love 

for so long because 

I did not think love

was what the world portrayed it as.

I despised love 

out of my want 

for a love 

that was something else entirely

than what this world had, 

a kind of love 

that did not align 

with the rigidity 

of the world’s idea of love

All the roses, 

the dinners, 

the alluring love songs,

and the scarlet clichés 

to me, became ‘normal’.

Everytime a man 

bought me a token 

of these stereotypical expectancy of love, 

I turned them down.

Not because I did not want them,

but because I was always 

of the idea, 

that love is too beautiful 

to be so oriented with guidelines, 

that love is too precious 

to be so inclined to normalcy.
I worshipped what I thought love was.

A love that was selfless and pure, 

a love that did not know evil, 

one that was not meant for just one person, 

but was simply for every single one we knew, 

a love that is not restricted to the one’s who do good to us, 

but to also and specially those 

who do us wrong.
And as I held everything else in disdain, 

It only opened my eyes wider 

to the fact that this world 

has a love that is only fraudulent 

and so superficial, 

this world has a love that 

is love, as long as it serves its purposes.

It bought me to an understanding

of a terribly sad truth 
that most of us here, 

while we pretend so gracefully 

to be drowning in it,

don’t even know what love really is.

-WANDERER // N o r m a l c y.

Heavy.

There is a weight on my chest, 

as heavy as the wind 

that furiously touches my face 

as I pace away 

into the empty breaking of dawn.
The Streets are as quiet as silence, 

although just a bit louder than it,

loud enough to distinguish 

between the two.
People are running, 

running to and from 

I can hear hearts mending 

and hearts breaking 

in the quiet of the dark morning 

between a thousand moons 

lined across each other.

Even though 

there is so much speed 

all around me, 

and even though

I am running too
I’m paralysed 

by the thought of you…
There is a weight on my chest, 

as heavy as the wind.

It is a weight that comes 

from the emptiness I feel 

when you’re not with me.

-WANDERER