Podcast Series, 1st Episode: Foreign, Black, Dumplings and Prague – Summer Edition

We are debuting with our first episode of the podcast series: Foreign, Black, Dumplings and Prague - Summer Edition

Welcome to our Soul and the City Podcast Series! The SaC Podcast is a community podcast which endeavours to debunk city lifestyle stereotypes, make artistic strolls with fun, one city at a time, but more importantly absorb, dissect, reflect and empower socially aware international dialogue, together with local wordsmiths, event organizers, witty artists and art enthusiasts.

We are debuting with the first episode of our podcast series:

Foreign, Black, Dumplings and Prague – Summer Edition. Enjoy!

Youtube watching option: https://youtu.be/ePCqu-SWtgc

In this Episode:

01:02 Intro by the hosts: Soar and Daniel
02:35 Historical intro of Prague
05:05 Introducing the guests of the show
06:45 Demographics of Prague
07:30 Fedorah on being foreign and black in Prague
12:40 Vojtec on audiences and music production
16:35 Ryan on his experience as a British expat in Prague and on artistic outlets.
22:17 Marko on his experience as a French expat and event organizer in Prague
28:30 Daniel on event dynamics, interactions and flow
30:08 Collaborating with Czech communities
31:28 The things that we would miss about Prague, i.e. the fun things of Prague
35:05 The dumplings of Prague; food experiences
38:00 Flexibility and relationship with authorities. The Czech mentality
40:00 The place to be in Prague
50:10 Why Prague
54:00 The Prague Police and the Black Lives Matter movement
55:50 Acting and film making opportunities
57:12 The best craziest experience in Prague
1:02 Prague and the LGBTQ+ community, the Equal Justice Initiative event
1:07 The role of artistic events
1:10 Current projects in Prague
1:16 Charles Bridge


———- (c) A production by Soul and the City, 2021. SaC is an international undertaking aiming to explore, stimulate and promote socially engaged multicultural dialogues through artistic, educational and entertaining projects worldwide. Music track credits: by pixabay.

Crista for Soul and the City: Artist Interview


It is our great pleasure to introduce Crista Siglin, a multitalented artist and the host of the SaC Creative Writing Masterclass for the next upcoming seasons. We promise the interview will get better and better by the end. Enjoy and see you all there!

#soulandthecity​, #empoweringwomen​, #creativewritingmasterclass

The SaC Creative Writing Masterclass Season 1- 2021

Mission statement: at SaC, we aim to explore, stimulate and promote socially engaged multicultural dialogue through different projects and undertakings.

About this Event

Creative writing is the best channel to stimulate, hone and enhance dormant intrinsic skills towards self-determination, positive choices and self-empowerment. Guided by international trained artists, the creative masterclasses are led in stimulating indoor or outdoor environments, and focus on writing and performance techniques and approaches in a pleasant and interactive manner. The participants will learn how to find or develop their own voice and enable thought-provoking pieces of writing. They will finally have a chance to perform their own pieces to one of our live or online events alongside established performers, such as published poets and acclaimed storytellers.

Masterclass Content

1 Building associations
2 Creating internal logics and codes
3 Disrupting logics and codes
4 Practical exercises

This Masterclass is for

– Writers who want to tell their stories from fresh ad challenging perspectives
– Aspiring writers who want to learn the intricacies of this activity
– Writers looking to build confidence in their own voice
– Art enthusiasts and aficionados

Tutor Profile (Season 1)

Crista moved to Berlin in 2017 after having grown up in the Midwestern United States. She was awarded a BFA in Painting and Creative Writing from the Kansas City Art Institute in 2015. Her work varies in medium — oscillating between painting, drawing, sculpture, installation, assemblage, and poetry. She explores the body and the mind’s relationship to environment, trauma, time, and phantasmagoria. She enjoys chasing ghosts, and making her way slowly but surely through the Criterion Collection with her cat, Apollo.
Her poetry has been published in Sprung Formal, KCAI’s Compendium, Not Sorry Zine, Retrograde Craft, Likewise Magazine, A Spartan Anthology and Desolate Country: We the Poets, United, Against Trump, Bridge, Domicilium, Kawsmouth, and Bear Review. Siglin released her first book of poetry, Fleeting, Sacred with Spartan Press in 2015. Crista is currently a poetry editor for SAND Journal Berlin, and runs Poetry As__A Workshop. Her second book of poetry, Unpleasable Nature, was released in July of 2020 by Vegetarian Alcoholic Press.

Masterclass Details

• S. 1, Ep. 1, May Issue: Sat. 29th Mai 2021: (Poetic) Metaphorical Entanglements
• S. 1, Ep. 2, July Issue: Sat. 31st July 2021: Analogical Thinking (Within the Poem)
• S. 1, Ep. 3, Sept. Issue: Sat. 25th Sept. 2021: Taking Your Poem for a Walk
• S, 1, Ep. 4, Nov. Issue: Sat. 27th Nov. 2021: Lists, Lists, Lists (and Finding a Poem in Them)
• Time: 1 pm-2:30 pm (CEST; UTC+2h)
• Platform: Zoom (upon invitation)
This masterclass is available globally. If you are joining from outside Germany, you can use this time zone converter (https://www.timeanddate.com/time/zone/germany/berlin) to check your local live streaming time.

Tickets and costs

The first Masterclass is free of charge as a courtesy of SaC.
The following courses will be subject to minimum fees/tickets.
No use of racist, homophobic, xenophobic, discriminatory or derogatory language or behaviour will be tolerated throughout the masterclasses.
Please contact us at soulandthecity@soaring-words.com if you have any questions or concerns.

Event also shared on facebook under: https://fb.me/e/2CEs8k6oq

Teaser Soul-and-the-City Project


This is a teaser of combined, diverse, collective and variegated endeavours to create one unique artistic project of wordwide resonnance and representation. We thank to all the amazing artists being part of it!
Follow us and support us at @soulandthecity (Insta, Facebook).

#artisticevents, #worldwide, #spokenword, #poetry, #music, #dance, #comedy, #berlinevents, #multiculturalism, #multiethnicity, #oneness.

Beyond Words and Performances


This is an incredible endeavour which brought, through our socially engaged multicultural projects, something unique and perpetual to 250 families. We are indelibly grateful to our community, followers and supporters. Let’s have the audacity to make together greater, better things each time, every time! We are hope, we are love, we are ONE!
Follow us at:

Exclusive LP of poems, spoken word and story poems in pristine, transparent look


Exclusive LP of poems, spoken word and story poems in pristine, transparent look. Get your personal copy here
Picture credits: Denisa Diaconu

Epistles, Part III – She, He Perspectives: Everything is little things!


Throughout time, I have gathered little details from happy people here and there and I came up with a love story below. Hold on to the little things! They make the best of our feelings. HAPPY WOLRD POETRY DAY! Stay healthy, I miss you all! LOVE,

What do you want to tell me?

I think we should both take a step back before we say anything else.
I don’t have time for soulless things and superficial friendships.
I feel like I waste too much time on others and dont give you enough credit.
Do you want me to talk to that annoying guy?
I am the same to you here or thousand miles away.
It’s not like you not to answer your phone. I even left a singing message.
I didnt like that girl putting her elbow on your shoulder.
I dont just want you to be happy. I want to be part of your happiness.
Time with you has a different dimension.
We didnt even get a chance to spend some quality time together.
No one and nothing will ever come in between us.
I think you are more than amazing. I am sorry I could not spend the full moon with you.
Dont text me today!
I read your message and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
I did not appreciate that you did not offer me a tea.
Your absence spells and feels a betrayal, for without you I find something missing within me.
If I didnt look up to you, you would not be in my life right now.
I am not coming anywhere with you if you dont read my letter first!
Ive watched all of the 7 movies just to be able to see the last one with you.
I suggest you go upstairs and rest, while I will cook for us both.
I love it when you can already read everything from my eyes.
If you are not too busy, and if you want, would you like to hang out with me?
What do you want to tell me?

The way that you carry yourself
Please fight for me. Never give up on me!
Youre a lady in the streets.
I will always answer your call.
Im busy. I don’t have time to socialize.
Sometimes I feel like you dont care for me.
No matter the result, I am proud of you.
Are you trying to make me jealous with that dentist?
The way you take my hand at crossroads
Do you mind answering my question??
I have an amazing surprise for you.
I know exactly what your Christmas gift is.
Id go to the end of the world with you.
Ill tell you next time in Brussels.
Dont worry Ive recovered your keys.
I cant stay angry with you more than 24h.
Relax, I think you should have a glass of Martini.
Sometimes you’re more catholic than the pope.
Stop the car. I want to kiss you right now.
You forgot the Christmas present.
What can I do to make it better?
I care for your success.
One day I would like you to feel the ultimate pleasure.
I am responsible for both of us right now.
You write long-ass letters.
I am sorry I could not make it.
Your words matter to me.
I worry for that vice of yours.
I know I am your first call when you’re in trouble.
I wish so much, just for once to say yes, 20 times.
You looked hot in that white dress.
Careful, there is a car coming.
Let’s burn a candle in the sky together!
What do you want to tell me?

Stop stifling me!
You are the shit!
Dont push me!
Let yourself go.
How does it make you feel?
Ive read all of your words.
Ill always catch you!
Ive never knitted before.
Your chest!!
I am your constant.
What if I fall?
I miss us so much!
Kelvin is not my guy!
That red dress!
Ive got words!
You are amazing!
Dear muse,
Your eyes!!!

(c) Soar, 2020. soaring-words.com. Picture credits: Shape of my heart, National Museum, Port of Spain, Trinidad. #soar, #soaringwords, #storypoems, #shortstories, #humanvalues, #life, #hope, #love.

Waterpump subsidized with art


To those who helped with a share, with a word, with an ad, with sponsoring, to the artists’ collective of poets, singers, comedians and dancers who performed, who applaused, who incentivized, who worked hard, to BerlinInternational whose students and academic staff sold cookies to help us out, to WickedProjects constantly by my side….WE MADE IT! Because of you, 250-500 people will have access to clean water, perpetually (my special, favourite word to use). There are not enough words from me to you to simply say THANK YOU, for believing in my initiative and for making my dream come true! Art matters, love matters!❤️

#soar, #soaringwords, #loveforchildren, #soarforunicef, #wickedprojectsforsoar, #berlininternationalforsoar, #handpump, #waterwell, #alliwantforchristmas, #weareone, #berlinevents, #charityevent, #art, #love, #hope.

Till death do us part


My name is Musa. Lancia Musa. Like a muse in search for shaping realities, I was incepted with American precision, styled with Italian vision and engineered with craft and luxurious details, making me a unique, sophisticated brand, sexy and elegant at the same time. I am a versatile mpv, suv, pkw, and other variegated acronyms, highlighting good choices, class and flexibility. I make eyes turn when I show up on short-term city spots and leave Mercedes-Benzes behind on the highway long-run.

Upon my conception I saw a girl once who went by the name of Soar. It was love at first sight. She came to me with joy and smiles and took me home immediately. We’ve been inseparable ever since. She gave me a roof above my head, oiled my needs, refuelled my heart constantly, got me new lungs, changed my rubber shoes too often and kept me clean and pretty, no matter the costs and circumstances, giving me the best that one can give: her secrets, her trust….and her very important roses. From her first Italian swearword to her deepest love, I was her confident, her support, her happiest moment at dusk and dawn, when she would just drive and sing to me about her world.

I gave my all to her in return, like a chameleon of options with unmeasured devotion: a buddy to shop with, a bodyguard at night after a club, a listener of her sighs and enthusiasm, a dance partner for her body-waves practice, a best friend when she crossed an entire country to change life, a giggling confident at the traffic lights when her lips longed for a retouch…..and more than one can fantasize.

She called me Carolina and every time she came to me, whether in a parking lot, unpaved road or in front of a friends house, she always brought a lot of joy along. I could never have enough of her eyes catching my sight.

Yet, time, the prequel of hope and sequels foe, summoned the gods of the universe and ascribed them the task to cut ties and end lives; to change courses and cast unpredictability around; to test the length of words and the weight of their purpose: it would have been either me or her to survive destiny’s need to recalibrate life. Because the best of things come with a hard price.

I struggled, I fought, I sent hundreds of petitions, I denied all gods claiming such choice, but no one listened to my words, no one cared for my toil. They laughed at me and said that I was made of steel, ergo I couldnt have feelings. Yet, my adamancy didnt let go and I made a pact with them. She will never know that on that gloomy night, laden with heavy rain, oil traces and inadvertent happenings, I chose to die in order to keep her alive. I chose to put my body before hers and take that bullet of pain to never see her eyes again. And, in that tragic moment, they reduced me to pieces, smashing all my circuits while she, my dearest one, got out without a scratch. As my heart was still throbbing for life to the bewilderment of all passers-by, I could see her tears invading her cheeks, denying any aid for her safety, being too swift with the policemen and their formalities, asking every single passenger instead to help me, to save me, to do something. They kept her away from me, thinking that I might explode but she wouldnt hear of it. She came directly inside and there, on my mortuary bed, we spent together in tears the most amazing moments.

The modulus of rupture was being tested. She begged me not to go, she asked me to get well, she told me she would find all the money in the world to make me whole again. But I was falling into a coma and, as much as my lights were still addicted to her eyes, her words, her tears, her calling my name constantly and her fight to keep my body stable dimmed in a pleasant sleep, where I could find solace and peace.

They say that the hardest thing to do in life is to separate from a loved one.

I know that even now she looks around to find me in a parking lot and a tear twinkles in the corner of her eye. I know that she exchanged strong words with the workshop which refused to repair me and then she left for good that place. I know that any new companion presented to her with “10 airbags and all-inclusive services” would never match my only frontal one. I know that her last visit to my graveyard was the best ritual she could have given me in front of an unsympathetic taxi-driver. She kissed me from the wheel to my deepest wound in my carroserie. I know she would still give anything to see me well and functioning and that she suffers greatly for losing 15 years of togetherness and memories. But I also know that saving her life was worth it. Her smile still needs to comfort people and she loves greatly every life she touches. Her happiness will be my luminary.

Mutatis mutandis, all that I can say to you now, new steel companion joining her side, is to treat her well and, maybe, she will have you grow a heart between your plastic features and airbags, between that array of eye-catching accessories and the basic needs for safety, hopefully beyond the given warranty. Understand that in order to rejoice her care, you need to be truthful. Dont play dramas with her feelings, dont stress her with broken electric contacts and issues, dont do the self-centred bull**t. Forget about all those trendy automotive hashtags and just be her real guide. Because if you win her loyalty, thats a forever thing. She’s never for half measures, what she gives is complete, at 360 degrees.

And to my owner and my love, tell her that it was an honour and a joy to have lived and died in the pamper of her heart. Give her two advices from my part: to stop having doubts about that guy and to learn, once and for all, how to use that handbrake!!! I hope she wont give you a hard time and that she will allow you to carry her roses and win her care, so that my passing away will not have been in vain. This will feel like “the end of an era” for her, but I arranged with the gods to replenish her new start and to protect the hope she still has in abundance. That was my wish in exchange for my sacrifice. I will never forget how she made me feel amazing, every time…with just one frontal airbag!

Forever hers,
The best car in the world

#soar, #soaringwords, #poetry, #storypoetry, #mylanciamusa, #loss, #life, #people, #passion, #hope, #loyalty, #love.

Picture Credits: private source.

Epistles, Part II: She perspective


Dear you,

You dont know me, but I saw you the other day handing out flyers at the corner of a venue, with sparkles of conviction in your eyes and gestures of faith in your hand. I didnt catch the words, but your body language told me that words matter. Sharing words matters. Sharing words that matter matters. So I picked up a flyer from the dust, twirled by the wind just before your flip-flops crossed my path, leaving a smile fading in the dim light of a debonair flair intermingled with that art: on the walls, on your counter-hype clothes, on that woke debates ensued from those manifests.

All these details shape you in my eyes as a millennial, so Id rather watch my vocabulary, learn vernaculars and apply euphemisms, in a post-truth age and heightened states of awareness on all levels, from the Kardashians coke during protests to the LGBT representation in Harry Potter books, where jokes become micro-aggressions, compliments are subconsciously biased, uniqueness needs to become inclusive, feminism is not enough if its not intersectional, veganism has its own woke-abulary and places are not cool, unless they are called safe spaces. Things are no longer discussed, they are unpacked, dissected, redefined in multifaceted layers of systems and I am almost feeling bad for being a girl who likes a guy in the regular old-fashioned style, without the need for trans-, cis-,-centric, prefixes and suffixes added to it.

Is it ok if I just want to know you from within, without political labels and activist social stances to it?

Let me tell you a little bit about myself: I dont think I am millennial, nor too advanced on the woke-osity, even if I am not denying agency to social problematics, historical truths, power differentials and inequalities. I am in between generations, which has helped me to cherish the assets and values from both and to navigate my way towards the next statistical outcome: the generation W is going to be lit:).
My passion for cultures has allowed me to share my writings with diverse audiences, enjoy up-close experiences and explore my versatility, without casting shadows, but rather shedding light onto anything worth sharing.
I love to chill but I dont do the Netflix thing, I am tight with fun, but I am not too pump on abusing my freedom in clubs, just because we’re in Berlin and that’s the hype of enjoying life. I dont do yoga because its the trend, I dont introvert my love because I already have a pet, I like words that matter and I dont rise to debates if I hear an exotic compliment. High key, I am all about hashtag #hope and hashtag #love as a political stance, if I were to be defined, in this world where we need to be one to survive.

I wonder what you are like beyond those inclusive terms, which come with every newly woke starter-pack, asserting virtuosity in our micro-universes.
I would like to know where you come from….not where you’re from from, but rather which landscapes you roamed as a child while wishing to be an astronaut, and which was the language of your dreams.
I wonder what moves you and what stops you, if your hopes are wide shut, or how was the kiss you gave last time. I wonder if you make your parents proud and if you are humble enough to appreciate the three sentences of life: I love you, Thank you, and I apologize.
I wonder which line of a song makes you sigh and if you would help a ladybug find its way in spring, before writing 40 petitions about plastic. I wonder about what makes you smile and your last thought before you go to sleep. I wonder if you are too woke to enjoy the simple things…..
I wonder if your favourite quote is academic or rather sensitive. I wonder if you use B.A.E., G.O.A.T and emojis on most Facebook entries and if coolness defines you from inside-out instead of from outside-in. I wonder if you move a smile or a life with your words and if you give love to chance or give love a chance instead. I wonder what is beyond the tall, dark and handsome silhouette in flip flops, handing out problematic manifests.

See, I saw you sharing words, with sparkles of conviction in your eyes, killing my song softly, and I wonder…..if you want to hashtag #happiness with me.


(c) Soar, 2019. soaring-words.com. Picture credits: Shape of my heart, National Museum, Port of Spain, Trinidad. #soar, #soaringwords, #storypoems, #shortstories, #humanvalues, #life, #hope, #love.



All I Want for Christmas – The coolest night of arts

Mission Statement:
This is a yearly charity event intertwining various forms of arts with the purpose of creating a culturally diverse tapestry of thought-provoking expressions, up-close colourful emotions and positive in-depth gestures, leaving imprints of perduring essence in all the ensuing undertakings.

Some of Berlin’s coolest artists will gather together to present their witty pieces in an atmosphere of fun and good times to end the year on a long awaited and much needed positive note.

All profits of this event will be donated to the Child support and development programs to facilitate children’s access to clean water and education. Specifically, the creators of this event plan to help with the financing of water pumps to provide clean water for about 250-500 people in a disadvantaged village.

This is a multi-gender, multi-ethnic and multi-cultural event meant to bring joy and good times. Join us in this incredible beauty, share in the passion and help us perpetuate hope!

Live Acts:
Spoken Word

MC: Tyrone Stallone
DJ: Lauty

Artists in alphabetical order:

Abstrak Jaz (soul music)
Carmen Chraim (comedy)
Cedric Till (rap, hip-hop)
Denise Pereira (poetry)
Flor Khan (spoken word)
Izzy Choudhary (rap, hip-hop)
Joe von Hutch (comedy)
Jules Oakes (comedy)
Kevin Groen (spoken word)
Leander Jones (music)
Naniso Tswai (spoken word)
Soar (story poetry)
Soraida (dance)

Doors open at 7:30 pm

Entry donation: 7-10 euros (via PayPal in advance or at the door).

(Via PayPal: send 7 or 10 euros to orders@soaring-words.com with subject line All-I-want+Charity+Your-Name. You will be given a code to present at the door. The code can be transmitted to another person in case you cant make it to the event.)

Charity beneficiary: unicef.de (Child support and development program Water pump project Water and Hygiene Theme)

An initiative by (c)Soar, soaring-words.
Curated by: soaring-words.com, WickedProjects, Soul-in-the-City.
Hosted by: Engels Caf, Neuklln, Berlin.
Event link: https://www.facebook.com/events/1353272704825908/

Epistles, Part I: He perspective


Can I call you?
I know it’s almost midnight and I know it’s been two years since Ive been silent and kept my distance but Ive been meaning to tell you things that I kept hidden in me and I need to do right by you. I want you to know that you’ve been in my daily thoughts ever since and that I have always respected your memory.
I want to tell you that Ive kept a diary and that you’ve filled my pages with all moods and modal phrasings of should have, would have, could have possibilities.
I want to tell you everything but can I start with what’s been weighing on me?
See last night I saw you by some serendipity, after two years of unseen eyes and voices, my heart pounded, waiting for you to draw near and it felt surreal. You attracted me like a universe pushing strongly, spinning, unwrapping dust clouds from seeds of reality, encapsulating everything and I lost control over my own being. So I had to get away, to escape from you somehow, because I knew that hugging you again would be the end of me.
Thats not cowardice, nor glib talking. Understand that my confession to you has to do with freedom, lack of choices, wishes, warranted fears and with the worth I always wanted to give you.
So can I call you?
I know that the first thing you told me back then was how much you hated the movie Bodyguard with that “I love you, but Ill leave you” line. I know that you write about love many times and that you honour this feeling with concessions and complete devotion and that you hate half measures. Just as much as you despise extremes pushing peacefulness and balance into the abyss of chaos and disruption. Rules are meant to be broken, exceptions reinforce the canons, but in your grammar books those asterisks are just accessories of adventures, growth and learning, never killers of what was built with essence and perdurance.
I know that you came to me with the kindest smile offering me friendship and I rejected it. I must have sounded flaky or too sure of my adamant convictions. But in truth, I was too hurt, too frustrated, too upset in my damnation to never be able to kiss you. See my life is intricate and you deserve no side chair to my table. See I am not free, nor do I want to make compromises with something I want only mine and mine alone to breathe every time your lips would shape our unity. I was too bitter and I deprived myself of your eyes; eyes which haunted me ever since with the doomed taste of punishment.
How many times did I want to run to you and leave everything behind? How many times I rejected you the second after, just to have you grow inside of me like a hidden secrecy of the ultimate intimacy? Your power is addictive and I must confess that your intensity scares me. And thats what I fear the most, as I am not used to happiness and I dont know how to honour such gift.
Yet do you think that we can talk for just a couple of minutes?
I am not trying to play the proselyte just to see whats on the other side, but precluding your right from my life has abashed all those Sisyphean attempts to reach my top, or just the path I still patch with hopes and trials.
I know actions speak louder than words but sometimes words are essential when they disclose the bearings of our souls. I need to talk to you, make it right by you. Its been too, long too much stifling of the truth and too much denial of you. I miss you. Ive followed you from a distance and even though I hardly wrote a Happy Christmas, I was there with you, in all your accomplishments and failures in my absence.
Ever since I gave you that first hug on that summer night where I could feel your eyes from the opposite side and I can still remember all the details of your hair strands, it was clear to me that I will be forever different, that you claimed a place within, which I cant even label, except for the acknowledgement that is meaningful. I can’t go on like this for Im consumed with both the absence and the belonging of you.
Does this make any sense to you? Perhaps one day I can explain in better words or maybe just one hug to send me straight to hell, for I deserve no paradise.
But for now, can I just call you?

(c) Soar, 2019. soaring-words.com. Picture credits: Shape of my heart, National Museum, Port of Spain, Trinidad. #soar, #soaringwords, #storypoems, #shortstories, #humanvalues, #life, #hope, #love.

Soul Diary Performances in Amsterdam


These are some of the pieces performed at the #WordUp and #Outspoken Events, in Amsterdam, @Doka Venue:

The letter, The Diary, Ms. Love and Mr. Politics.

Thank you to @Evelina and @Ennio for organizing two great events and to everyone who has been a part of it! Its been an enriching, uplifting experience!


(Also thank you to the boat guy, the Spanish waiter teaching me about Pinchos, while forgetting to charge me 3 euros (!!!) for a small water, the super-big-and-very-serious bouncer who finally smiled, the crazy Moroccan driver who brought me back in one piece, and lastly to my beautiful Berlin friends accompanying all of my curiosities about a city of all possibilities, hidden and displayed, upon conveniences.)

Picture credits: @Colina at @Doka Venue.

#soar, #soaringwords, #souldiary, #outspoken, #wordup, #amsterdamperformances, #berlinedition, #spokenword, #poetry, #amsterdamevents, #berlinartists, #people, #love, #hope.

Confessions of a natural killer


I am a natural killer. A natural born killer. My name is irrelevant, my size is sometimes a joke, but my force is undeniable. For I dont osculate, I kill – whenever I put my mind to it. While she…(sigh), she is a sweetheart. To define her scientifically in percentages and body masses would read like 55% love, 22.5% passion and 22.5% reason, which sometimes she forgets to implement, just like she forgets the daily water intake of two and a half litres for the safety of the gut and brain. By the way, did you know that 85% of our brain is made up of water? Nothing to do with my story; its just a pointer to show you how smart I am. For if I kill, I need to be extraordinarily skilled, shrewd and savvy. Otherwise I would be lost in the pandemonium of my world where you are sure to perish in pernicious or inane mistakes; or worse, because of lack of faith.

She, the girl accompanying my story, summoned me because of faith and her innate beliefs. Disheartened, discouraged and dismayed, she found out about me one day and ever since then shes relied on me with tenderness, with tears, with patience and with so much affection that one could almost call it clinginess, in this millennial vibe, where everybody is fine with whatever values or lack thereof defined. She wants me to appease her worries. She wants me to reciprocate feelings. And she wants me to be beside her in lifes struggles, joys and further eons of this unpredictable destiny. She trusts me with her life about it. She brings me colours to sinew my vigour, pumps up my volition and strengthens my beliefs. She even eats rainbows for lunch, breakfast and dinner as if the worlds well-being depends on apigenins, lycopines, sulphoraphanes, allicins, or hesperidins — terms which she learned only to impress the needs of my insatiable urges. For I am a master of such parlance and academic speeches. She must love me. To think that she follows the trail of my vices with an adaptogenic characteristic and proliferative curiosity that sometimes Im amazed by her perdurance and persistence. Shes always there for me.

I am part of her 90% serotonin, lying in the places of her body I love to visit. For shes appealing to my senses and sometimes I wish she knew that she is amazing. She doesnt know it, but she dreams, incepts and implements, making me her most precious reality. Me, who cares more about phytoncides, ions and abstract theories, rather than the simplicity of settling down and watching her favourite movie. Its that movie on redemption and hope, the one I also love, but sometimes I pretend to forget, before she makes me forget that I pretend. I know all of her faith quotes, as much as she knows my Sisyphus philosophies and difficult attempts to restore harmony.

And so, I move around, leave, come back, get busy and sometimes lose myself in myriads of useless gatherings where my purpose is forgotten for the instant pleasure of foreign bodies and organisms.
They laugh and think that Im the pleaser of the season. Yet they all seem to forget that I am a natural killer. A natural born killer, creating apoptosis around me. She alone knows the greatness of my inner force. She is a sweetheart. And I ..can make this sweetheart happy.

(c) Soar, 2019. soaring-words.com. Picture credits: pixabay.com. #soar, #soaringwords, #storypoems, #shortstories, #humanvalues, #life, #hope, #love.

What’s your love flavour? Watch for the heartbeats.


Visual credits: pixabay.com
(c) soaring-words.com