Devil Eyes

the past month or so has tested my faith in ways i didn’t think were possible. it tore me apart, dragged me through every doubt i thought i’d outgrown, and spit me out on the other side. i was sent temptations, distractions, old patterns dressed up as new opportunities. i was taunted with the easy route, pulled in opposite directions, pushed to choose between the world i can see and the one i can feel. and even without a single piece of solid proof that any of it would ever materialize in the 3d, i still held my ground. that’s the funny part — the closer you get, the more the tests multiply. the traps get prettier. the detours get familiar.  and yet it becomes so obvious, that all you can do i cackle. they throw everything at you just to see if you’ll wobble. but i didn’t do all this work just to walk this part alone. i didn’t come this far to fold at the finish line. people whispering in my ear: 'give up, it's not worth your time. you're delusional. just block, delete and forget.' they sent me people and situations that fit almost perfectly into my old life — but not in the final form. versions of comfort from a past i already buried, just to see if i’d loop again. 

and then it happened exactly the way it does when something has been written into your story long before you ever catch up to it. not gentle, not gradual — it hit like a timeline slamming back into its place. the air changed before she even stepped fully into the room, like everything around me recognized her a split second before i did. it was that electric, that unmistakable. she showed up and i just knew, without thinking, without questioning. like the universe just clicked a puzzle piece into place with a sound only i could hear. it wasn’t subtle at all. it was dramatic in that way fate is dramatic — loud without making a sound, undeniable without asking for attention.  nothing else had that gravity. nothing else ever has had that gravity. nothing else matched that frequency. and hey, nothing ever will. it was cinematic in the sense that it felt scripted. i mean it IS scripted in the most whimsical divine way. 

i have 555 screenshots of 11:11. why you ask? i always say i'm a crazy, but that is not true at all. i took them, because i always wondered when do i reach to my destination. you're on right path yes, but when does it end. no pardon, when does it start. well it simultaneously ended and started on 11th of November. i wasn't surprised. i winked universe back and took matters in my own hands at 11:11 o'clock. and that is how we play ball now. 

Bytown

… it’s one of those october nights where the city glows like an old film reel. you walk aimlessly in the empty misty streets. 

falling leaves are dancing in the wind, rain drizzling just enough to blur the reflections on the pavement.

i’m  walking — nowhere in particular — world around me is humming low. there is this weird, steady calm lately — not the kind that comes after chaos, but the kind that just is. like i finally stepped out of a theatre after years of playing someone else’s role.

i’ve lived in so many places. walked through countless streets. london, tartu, tallinn, berlin, benidorm, helsinki… each one had a version of me wandering around, looking for something unnamed. always yearning. always searching for that feeling — that deep click of this is where i belong.

helsinki came close. god, it did. i felt her there — that love, that pull, that mirror. but it wasn’t meant to hold. and so i kept on walking. different cities, different lives, same heartbeat underneath it all.

and now… it’s like i arrived. not somewhere new, but back into my own energy. like all the pieces — all the loves, lessons, late-night breakdowns — finally snapped together. every version of me from every place folded into one timeline. i guess that’s what it was, i always saw the fragments of this timeline - that was the one that was always missing. 

it’s not loud. it’s not fireworks or epiphanies. it’s quiet — almost sacred. like standing in golden-hour light after the storm’s passed. the kind of calm that hums through your body and says, you’re safe here. you did it.

i don’t yearn anymore. i don’t chase. i don’t perform. i just am.

maybe this is what “soul home” actually means — not a city, not a person, but that exact moment your spirit stops wandering.

and damn, it feels like every road, every heartbreak, every night i thought i was lost was actually the compass. every version of me was just walking me here.

here — where the air tastes like belonging. where everything i thought i lost finally makes sense.

YUKON

 it has been five years since i last wrote anything to myself. five years of keeping all these words rattling around in my brain like loose change. now finally, i need to spill them - because if i don't, my brain will keep playing the same old playlists of love stories gone wrong.

here's the pattern.. i fall for people who aren't great for me. some i loved too much - though, honestly, maybe i was just in love with the version of them that i made up in my head.  others, well, they looked good on paper - stable, respectable, the "parents would approve" type - but they never reached the deeper parts of me. 

and then there were the ones, who love me more than i loved them, which sounds flattering until it feels like being cast as the lead in a play you didn't audition for. because the truth is, just as i’ve built versions of people in my head, they’ve built versions of me aswell. they’ve loved the idea of me—the dream girl they projected onto the blank canvas of my existence. but ideas aren’t people. inevitably, the fantasy collapses under the weight of who i actually am.

people in my life have said i don't let them in, that my walls are too high.  but here's the thing - walls don't just appear out of nowhere. you build them after too many people treat your open heart like a tourist attraction - snap a picture, take what they want and move on. of course my walls are up there. of course my door stays closed. how could i possibly fling my door open for someone who doesn't even understand the view on the other side? i don't want someone rattling the doorknob, i want somebody who knows the password. 

so i retreated into music. for years, i have been listening to lana del rey like it's a scripture. not casually, not as background noise, but like a lifeline. her poetry became my cathedral - tragic, cinematic. i clung to the lyrics because they mirrored the contradictions inside me - romantic but ruined, hopeful but haunted, fragile but stubbornly alive. i didn't let the other voices in because i didn't want the noise, i wanted resonance. i was holding on to hope, that one day something - or someone - would vibrate at the same impossible frequency. that one day i will meet another ethereal being who understood that love is not a feeling, it's a whole damn aesthetic. 

i want genuine connections and unconditional love - the kind that sees behind mistakes and flaws and still stays and never wants to change anything about you. i want to be present and real. i want to plan future travels to unknown, but be also just as excited to come back home. 

for so long i thought these were just prayers i whispered into music. lana sang it to me when i couldn't say them out loud, lyrics holding me together when i had nothing else to grip. i followed the songs like breadcrumbs, pebble after pebble, holding on to hope that somewhere out there, someone was walking on the same path towards me. 

and against all odds - someone did.

they don't just step into my ether, they live there too. they don't just watch me glow from a distance, they burn at the same frequency. all the pebbles suddenly make sense, all the songs feel like prophecy.

for so long it was me humming the melody alone, wondering if anyone would ever hear it. with her it's different. she catches the rhythm instantly, no hesitation, no guesswork..

all those years of illusions, rehearsals, making myself little, changing myself to fit the stories, all those echoes in the dark - they make sense now. they were just the prelude leading me here. to this moment where the fireworks don't fade and the music does not stop. 

for the first time it actually feels like it's only just the beginning.

and with her, i don’t just hope it lasts—
i know it will.