December 09, 2014

Love in times of war.

"You ruin it all with your anxiety", you once told me. I cried as the guilt came rushing through my veins, while the sorrow of your absence, of your avoidance, slowly darkened my soul.

You forget, my dear, it was you that cowardly hid behind your fears, quietly choosing to deliberately hurt me, to wilfully disown myself of your feelings. Your choice asphyxiates my hope and I have to kill the love that was making everything brighter.

In such a gloomy world, full of cynicism and hatred, loving became the sin, the mistake, the odd choice and yet, I can't stop loving the hopeful dreams that night brings and that no harsh daylight can make me forget.

I'll always regret the words I never told you... I'll regret being stopped by this overwhelming shame of feeling the way I do.
There's no right time to know what love is, there's no choice to be made rationally. Love is when it wants to be, when the soul touches this infinite, indescribable force that connects all that exists. 

I felt ashamed. And anxious. And now, so sad. 
I know it was not pertinent, not asked for, but nevertheless love exists within me, for you. It came to me as this brand new feeling, as different as it can be from any other love that ever was for me, but as powerful as I remember it from distant times.

I felt the need to apologize. Apologize to you, to myself, to the world. I had committed the ultimate crime and dared to let myself love the perfectly imperfect soul that you are. 
I am so very sorry, my dearest, for I get the sense I must apologize for love in these times when war seems to prevail.

I had to deceive my own self, trying to be convinced that you were no path, tricking you to believe my heart was not yours afteral
I had to mislead my feelings to stop me from whispering in your ear, "let me stay by your side", "let me in and I'll be yours forever". I would. How cliché. How cinematic.
I know you never wanted to hear it, I know how despicable this is these days, I know I had no right... and so I just hushed my heart and let shame swallow me in.

How sad.

I am sorry.

I am sorry I loved you so easily, with no reason or judgment.
I am sorry I dreamed so stupidly, with no restraint or logic.
I am sorry you became, so quickly, the home I keep trying to find. 
I am sorry, above all, I wasn't brave enough to ever tell you... you were all! 
I am sorry this will go to waste now.

Love should be no shame and yet, I have to hide.



"If you must wait
Wait for them here in my arms as I shake
If you must weep
Do it right here in my bed as I sleep
If you must mourn, my love
Mourn with the moon and the stars up above
If you must mourn
Don't do it alone.

You are all."

                                               Keaton Henson

December 03, 2014

On time and heartaches.

Oh let me tell you about this strange continuum in which life occurs in an apparently succession from past to future... let me tell you about this irreversible relativity that is time. 

The more you live, the less you have it, but the more you long for it. It seems to go faster as years go by and yet, at moments, when you most need it to speed up, it slows down like the unhurried pace of a lazy snail. The minutes take days to end and everything stops and thickens as you hurt. 

Time, they say it is of the essence, and I say, at times, it is of salvation. The salvation of a soul when it's breaking, of a heart when it's aching, of my heavy bones carrying a fainting body. 

Only time can heal, can lift the weakened spirit and save from sorrow. Only time. 
A waiting game sometimes. The patience of let it all fly by... the anger of the damage, the mourning, the sadness, the memories that won't ever be. 
Only time, in its infinite mercy, can lighten the burden of what will be the eternal longing of a lost love, a lost past, a lost present and a never existing future...
Only time accumulating can bury the acute pain of loss and make it less palpable, less strangling, not so overpowering. 

The scars will stay, the love, if real, won't go and yet it will all be bearable as time goes by. It will all be bearable. 
Stand by. Don't hurry the precious lifeline. Take a deep breath and know that it's a matter of time.

It is a matter of time, I say.
Heartaches don't last forever.

Oh let me tell you about these saving minutes, so many of them, that take forever to run by.



The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.
It's strange what desire will make foolish people do.
I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you.
And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you.
No, I don't want to fall in love.


                                                                      Chris Isaak

November 22, 2014

If life was the movie playing in my head.

Let's go home tonight, drink too much gin and star in movies of our own. We'll dance and laugh and fool around. The sun will be a witness when my tired body finally finds some rest, laying in bed with your arms holding me tight. I'll feel you breathing deep against my neck and dream of a future that I can only wish would be ours. 

October 28, 2014

If life was the movie playing in my head.

Let's go home, my love, be silly and fun. You'll be mine for this night, the next morning and every single day that will follow. I'll cook some pancakes while you still sleep. I'll wake you slowly stroking your curls as I gently kiss your neck. We can spend hours, that will seem like seconds, listening to music and laying lazily, naked in my bed. It will be happy. It will be love... It will be home.

October 17, 2014

A future that never was.


In no time I will leave and runaway, my love. If I wouldn't, I know you would...
Leave me, hurt me, unlove me, darling... As I am the good one to leave behind!

Our paths won't meet no more sweetheart and I am bound to miss a future that will never be... Just like I missed, eternaly, before, another tomorrow that never came to exist.
I am bound to miss, to long, to yearn... And still stand on my pillar of hope.

I'll be longing for all the kisses we won't kiss, my baby... the stories, the laughs, the mornings, the afternoons and the nights... all those years we won't ever share.

I will miss what I never danced with you, my dearest, what we never traveled or all your friends I never met.

You won't solve all my misteries and I won't appease your fears... 
I won't get to love what you keep hiding from me, my beautiful baby. We won't rejoice at all our conquers or lean against each other when the troubles seem too many for one single soul to carry.

I won't ever discover how many wrinkles will the corner of your smiley eyes acumulate over the years, honey. And I won't tell you, every morning when I wake up, how I love those little wrinkles... and even more, those eyes.

Your chest won't be my pillow no more and I'll be forever missing your neck where I hide my face in those midweek Sunday mornings, feeling my breath against your skin.

I won't feel again your heart beating against my chest, nor will I look at you and me standing together in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing our teeth and smiling at the perfection of such ordinary moment.

I won't count your white hairs over the years and there won't be anything, ever, for us to call ours.

I won't be annoying. You won't be stubborn. There won't ever be mountains for us to climb, nor problems for us to fight.

There won't be birthdays to share, festive moments, endless summer days or any winter nights, curled up together with the rain outside.

There won't be growing old together, nor growing love...

I will leave, my love.
You would leave me, anyhow...
... and this future I'm longing for, just never was, sweet baby of mine.

Bye-bye.


"From the mountains to the sea
And the city
From the valleys to the moon
In every country

I will be there
Standing beside you
I will be there
Standing by your side."

                       
                                        Odessa

October 02, 2014

If life was the movie playing in my head.

Let's stay in tonight. Get high and have a glass of wine. We'll keep whispering to each other all those feelings we insist on denying and all those words we shouldn't be saying. We won't hide on empty spaces or silent moments and the past won't cast a shadow in this instant of ours. You'll let me love you and I'll let you save me.  Peace will embrace us. Finally. 

September 18, 2014

One.


There's always a reason, I remember you telling me, for things to happen the way they do. 
As I look closely in my own eyes, starring at an otherwise empty mirror, it finally sinks in. 

I am now definitely, again, one. 
Whole. Unafraid. Comfortable, after seeing you depart, with the once terrifying idea of loss, of change, of loneliness. Serene with the certainty of the lingering emotions of lost love. 

I remain a vulnerable human being and yet, I know I might fall but my soul will remain standing. Tall. 

I live again, now, fully awake, fully aware. 
I live in the present and I know it won't always be paradise, but love may be to me, once more, not only a forgettable instant... 
Love will hurt and I may cry... but that is sometimes all that is. Life. 
I won't run and I won't bluff... I won't disguise myself as a wolf when I can't howl, nor a happy loner I don't want to become. 
I won't avoid love and I won't avoid pain, for not loving would be, in itself, the ultimate symbol of sorrow... a supreme ache.
I want to breath in each moment of every simple gesture, of every small word.
I want to give the due value to each detail. Admire the simplest things... The most mundane instants. Mindfully transforming the ordinary in extraordinary, in happy surprises of appreciation. 

It can’t be just because I am widely aware of my human imperfections and the risk I take of not finding someone who would understand my spirit, that I can let myself abandon or modify the ideals of true kindness, true compassion, true love. 
Just because it is not doable with faultlessness or certainty, I will not start fearing to reveal my weaknesses. 

I want to live every minute being, faithfully, myself, without the need of finding, within me, the switch that could shut it all down... that can shut my heart out. 

And there will come a day, maybe, when I'll whisper him to stay. Holding me tight, feeling every heartbeat of mine, he won't want to see me fall. 

And as one I will embrace, hopeful, that other one... 



"What do you say
Is this the time
For one more try
At a happy life?


So what do you say
Is it unwise
To think my fears
Will not reprise?"


                Lucius

September 02, 2014

If life was the movie playing in my head.

Let's stay in tonight. We will spend countless moments looking in each other's eyes until there's no words left unsaid and a new world is born to be found. We will know, as we kiss, that we can be hopeful to find something more powerful than fear. Our souls will live again, believe again, feel again and we will be acutely aware of all we've been taking for granted. Love will be true once more.

August 25, 2014

Come back to bed.


Would you please come back to bed, my love?
Let's make this moment our whole life.
Be close to me, my darling, as we keep feeling our love spreading across our worlds colliding.

Stay in bed with me just this once, my baby.
Let me be with your good arms around me, till there is no more time in this universe we share.
Stay and find all my loose ends, sweet love, as you search for my skin with the lights dimmed low.

Let's live forever under these sheets, my dearest.
Let's pretend there is no one else outside... no sin, no limit.
Just stay and break my heart, dear baby... break it gently, out of my chest, as you softly kiss my sorrowful lips.

Lay next to me on this lonely night, sweetheart.
Keep smiling, while you look at me with the only eyes that can appease my soul... The very same eyes who quietly unsettled it.
Come back to me for one more instant of heaven, baby and don't let love leave this room with your heart.

Would you please come back to bed, my love?
Just be here, by my side, and let me unfold you while it's all still real...
Let me wander into your scarred unknown to try and bring you home.


Keep your hand on mine, my love, keep our planets aligned...

I can only promise you that there's no place like home.

There's no place like home.



Understand me I need you now
Surround me with your words
Understand me I need your love."

                   Per Arne Bertheussen

August 14, 2014

If life was the movie playing in my head.

Let's stay in tonight. We will have a drink or two, laugh at the words cautiously unspoken and smile while trying to capture every careful detail in each other's eyes. Our fears will be running maniacally inside our souls and we will dare them to stop us from being, just once more, as peaceful as we were tonight. 

June 21, 2014

If life was the movie playing in my head.

Let's go to Narnia tonight, you and I. Get lost in a world of freedom and beg for the stars to be kind, like a supplicant pleads for a miracle. We will find the grace we lost behind and there will be choirs to sing our newfound redemption.

June 13, 2014

Light.


"You were just in my dream", he texted her. 
Just this. 
No adjectives letting her guess any feeling behind it. No follow up. Nothing else.
Just this simple telegraphic message to let her know she had been with him that night.

She chose to take it gently, imagining him saying it with the smile that once was her happiness, whispering it sweetly to her ear. 
It made her peaceful to believe he could finally feel warmly about her… with a better sentiment than the hateful indifference that ruled their ways after he left. 

She felt the serenity that message had brought her, sprinting through her veins… she felt the rush of something new to her soul. 
She thought tenderly of him but her heart wouldn't skip no beat no more. 
She was almost crying as she realized she didn't love him. This was not love anymore. This was not love! 

She. Didn't. Love. Him. 

It struck her like lightning. How overwhelmingly new this was! How freeing. How beautiful.
It shook her ground just as much as when she found firing passion, for the first time, in his eyes. 

"Here we will lay apart, but here together will our hearts rest",  she sang it in her head as to remember old sorrows. She knew their time as one would always belong to a different lifetime now, an eternity she no longer shared with this world, a piece of history to just reminisce sweetly about.

She. Didn't. Love. Him.

And for the first time in the longest of times, she could frankly smile and be light. She could just calmly, softly, be. Light.



"The fastest bullet flying,So quick nobody ever feel no pain
'Cause the plains they took my baby
And i'm gonna take her to the funeral beds to lay.

I hate to say i love you,
But oh goddamn i love you,
You know i do
But you're gone away, gone away, gone away.


These great fields are stretching,
Taking me oh so far."


                                                    The Districts

May 20, 2014

Ellipses and superlatives.



“I feel so blessed and happy to be alive,” she said, as she continued with a blissful monologue filled with ellipses and superlatives. 
It could seem, on the surface, that after her endless harrowing journey, she had come out renewed on this other side.
Then again, maybe not. Actually, the uncharacteristically ebullient comments make me think that probably not. 
She was depressed for so long, with clouds always hanging over her head, that now with spring around, she has too much light, too much joy and she might just not know what to do with the contentment. She knows it is beautiful but there's no comfort in that happiness no more.

For too long she felt everything deeply even when living vicariously trough the lives of people that meant something to her. In recent years she found her heart exposed outside her chest making it difficult to mask all the scars and little holes in it. In the end she enjoyed making love to her demons, assuming a direct correlation between anguish and artistic value. She found herself nurturing her agony and grief.

"We could have saved each other and we will always belong to the ages", she kept whispering to herself, over and over again, with an hyper-romantic perspective that would make the average person flail and get lost in a swirl of fantasy and disappointment. But for her, these dreamer instincts seem to breed a specific sort of rigor. 
She had been captivated by the hyperbole of her own heartbreak. To her, love didn't die by itself. She would have never allowed it. Love had to die of illness and hurt, of blindness, of doubts and despair, until there were no more wishes left for shooting stars.



"Just like a dream 
Oh come, come back to me
And I'll still believe
If you stay baby, stay with me
Darling I beg, come back to me
Just like a dream."

April 22, 2014

If life was the movie playing in my head.

Let's stay in tonight. Talk about our sad stories and then laugh at it all as we both know we found comfort again in each other's eyes. We won't let the red wine turn to vinegar in that open bottle and love won't be a haunting secret no more.

April 15, 2014

Let go.



As the sweet memories of distant loves and distant times lingered in her thoughts, she realized she had already come a long way.

Letting go was a lesson she struggled to learn. Letting people go and hurl themselves into their own destiny, their own battles, without feeling like she, herself, was losing… them… passion... life… it all took a lot from her.

It was hard to make her heart settle into the thought that, just like the sun rises and sets every single day, come rain or shiny date, come cold fronts or warm winds, also people come and go into our still pictures that make for specific life moments.

For the longest time, it all adjusted tenderly, but sadly, on her heart.

She finally realized, with patience, that letting go can be the translation of great love. A selfless love that understands and gets inspired with these different journeys of the people that make us who we are… in this instant or this eternity.

Goodbye… the word consumed itself in hurt, doubts and despair, yet it ended up liberating and soothing tortured souls that look for a common ground that might not exist. She ultimately embraced the strength of the word, of the feeling... the relieve it could bring… the peace.

She could finally value the beauty of departure. Deconstruction. Breakdown... As ruins allow for renewal and damage for repair.

She rather live now, safe and sound in her serenity, alone even when surrounded by so many people, happy with the happiness she guesses in the ones she loves, as she now knows life makes us all islands at some point… tiny dots in an ocean we are all trying to brave across.

We are all islands until we become refugees of something, of some place, of someone…

In this world we share we ought to learn to be truly kind, truly content to feel that everything is, already, now, always, as it should be… 



With every word I live again through the eyes of another
We'll meet at night, wet from the rain
and surprise each other with how we take away the pain
Could you be the one to find me safe and sound?
Love is how it's lost .. not how it's found

                                                                       Azure Ray

April 08, 2014

Restlessness.


There's a feeling within that keeps me awake when my soul should be sleeping. There's a restlessness inside that doesn't let me be… and yet it keeps me alive, as it is in these aches and discomforts that I find my true inspirations and visions, my limits and edges, my purpose and ambitions… myself.

As my hand searches frantically for another hand to hold, my heart keeps beating in my chest with a quietness I am having trouble getting used to… It seems like there is a loneliness in being together that won't leave my being. 

Perhaps it is this wish of keeping my spirit constantly agitated by every little detail of this journey. Yearning to be surprised… by every simple thing, by every complicated story, by others and mostly by myself. Desiring to keep being in a state of wonder. Marveling more than being certain, questioning more than answering, bewildering more than explaining.

I keep longing for moments that never happened. For years that were never mine. For stories that were never really fulfilled. I keep longing for a past that didn't exist and a future that I don't want to guess.

To this energy you once called guilt, just to hurt me. To me it feels more like a constant and glowing pain. 

The schizophrenic agony of having or craving for... Daring to try or fearing the loss... Giving it all or eternally hiding... Honestly loving or honestly leaving.

A pain. 

Love maybe, as some call it.

You, as I learned to name it.



"But don't let it pass
Don't get locked in
Everything starts
Way from within.


Where nothing is compromised
Nothing is lost
When everything is realized
Nothing is crossed.


But don't let it pass."

                                       Junip

April 03, 2014

If life was the movie playing in my head.

Let's watch Garden State once again, dream of our own elipsis and let Such Great Heights transform us in corresponding pieces from the clay. There will be beauty in our careless, sleepless nights and our hearts will never be the same again. You will be an evolutionist and I'll just be broken. We will both be happy.

March 14, 2014

Love can't be found.



Time and peace make us understand that everything is relative, not only to time itself and space, but also the momentary shape of our own heart.

Energy, feelings, emotions, can be greater than life, yet people can be as insignificant as a bored second.

As he called me his raven-haired beam I knew he would never know me but would always love me. I also knew he would leave as quickly as he had whispered little poems in my ear.

To the bodies that followed him, there was no hope. I felt them cold as we shared the night, though their skin felt warm next to mine. As they laid there I wondered how useless this replacement figures could be… there was no pulse, no heart, just a substitute form and an empty soul. 
I kept my eyes shut, trying not to see but his dark, gypsy eyes, his contoured shoulders and his strong hands holding my whole body. But there was nothing. No depth. A void only. A big and absolutely empty void.

I stopped. I cut all ties. I cried.
I used my tears as a cleansing elixir, a liberating potion for soul, body and mind. I needed to get rid of all the negative in me, all the rotten corners of my spirit… get it all through to the outside of me, exorcized in all those sobs of sorrow and relief.
I cried yet again.

As he stopped being the poem I had written, a time finally came to dance to the music that was playing.
Now.
No wishes. No fears. No reservations.
Just love.

That very second, as I wiped my tears, taking a deep breath, I felt love in its purest form and realized, surprised, one can't search for it.

Love is. Everyday. In every jaded second and every falling leaf. In every red sunset by the sea and in the ones hiding behind dark clouds. In the crying newborn and the mumbling old lady. In two lovers kissing and a lonely heart fighting. All is love. It can be felt but it is useless to search for it.

Love can’t be found.
Love just is.

Now.



"Won't you open a window sometime.
 What's so wrong with the light.
 (…)
 We throw our shadows down
 we must throw our shadows down
 we live and throw our shadows down
 it's how we get around
 in the sun."

                                         Angel Olsen

February 14, 2014

Love.


There was a year that didn’t exist. A year that wasn't as she wasn't either, when she forgot how to be. Herself. Whole. 

On that year that wasn't she would go down by the water and with her back to the Pacific, looking at that vast continent ahead, she would measure all its length with her heart, all the miles, one by one, until it reached another ocean… she knew only after all that land and the immensity of those cold waters of the Atlantic she could find his eyes again. The distance felt too real, too massive… overwhelmingly painful, tearing all her inside apart.

To appease her spirit she decided to drive up north on the Pacific Coast Highway and those hills and cliffs, swept by the pacific waves, made her feel the earthquakes and the landslides, all seemed like small prices to pay for the glories of living in California. There she found a place for her broken heart to be. Without excuses. That truth soothed her pain making everything else seem secondary, less important, less vital. As long as she could see that sun go down and those hills turn to gold she could feel less torn… and forget the distance and how small she was when confronting it.

She got used to her sadness and learned to love it. Alone, in the place that held her soul when she had nothing.

One summer day he came back, calm and gentle, comforting and tender. There was no urgency in his world, no rush, no roller coaster. There wasn't more than what he showed, no surprise. He seemed to have all the love and all the patience in this world… he just existed there in his own space and time, side by side with her, barely making a move and just waiting for her to notice him.

He asked her if she still believed in love and she could smile when telling him she couldn't no more… she had had her share of that self-harming madness, she told him softly. He didn't try to deny her fears nor make her speak the word she couldn't feel. 

She fought the peace he brought as one instinctively wrestles the discomfort of all things unknown.
She wrestled alone as he stood there. Silent. Peaceful. Warm. With no judgment in his eyes nor his voice. Just patiently waiting for her to stop hiding and get back on her own path.
With his whispering voice, as not to frighten her, he lulled her to a quietness she had long lost and guided her back from war… somehow she found her way to those two arms that had been hers before… that had been hers all along.

Unexpectedly she felt something she had forgotten. It was not crazy. Not overwhelming. Not anxious. It was peace… a peace that showered her body, reaching every molecule of her being. She felt home.

He asked her again if she still believed in love. She could just smile then, with no words, as to not scare her heart.



If today was not an endless highway,
If tonight was not a crooked trail,
If tomorrow wasn't such a long time,
Then lonesome would mean nothing to you at all.
Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin',
Yes, and if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin',
Only if she was lyin' by me,
Then I'd lie in my bed once again.


                                                            Bob Dylan

February 06, 2014

Leaving.


"I will always runaway" you once told me, "There's no happiness in staying… I shall find no space, no love, no time as my witness". That lingered on my thoughts as I replayed it over and over in my head. I eventually stopped, for a break, while traveling to forget your absence and I realized I too prefer to live alone, and leave alone, running away from anyone else's curve of time. I guess we end up having something in common as we are aware we don't want to be found.

Now I travel by night... so love can't find me.

Despite my struggles and hiding efforts, life is how it's lost, not how it's found as all our days are counted already, numbered from sure beginning to certain end.
We are all just passing by and moving towards the same finish line…There's no pause for this time we were given, for the perpetual decline of this limited energy borrowed to us as we get to exist on this spinning mass of rock. Knowing this all, acknowledging it with sadness in the departure of someone dear, makes the sacrifice feel too real, grounding, almost freeing but hurtful as it is constantly so close.

Time can't bring but loss, the great finale we can't escape, and in the silence of each second I want to stop avoiding feeling it all to my core… even the deepest pain… even an overwhelming joy… for it won't come back. Ever. Again. The same.

Now I travel by night… and I am always leaving… as we all are.

We are all just slowly leaving.



"I'm gonna float up in the ceiling
I built a levee of the stars
And in my field of tired horses
I built a freeway through this farce

Well if I ever get that slumber
Ill be that mole deep in the ground

                      Tallest Man on Earth

January 27, 2014

After the storm.


After the storm has passed and the waters of this ocean are calm again, I find myself wondering if you ever think of me, if you ever ask yourself how am I doing... What is my life like... What makes me laugh these days?

Do you ever think of the time we had together and the moments we shared… All the dreams we dared to tell one another and the fantasies we dared to live as one?

Do you ever stop to try and understand my side, who was I then or who I became? What were the choices I had?

Do you ever miss me, dear stranger? Not only as your lover, but as a person you met… as a person that was somehow part of your life?
Was I ever important to you, tell me honestly?

Do you ever question if we will meet again in our lifetime? Will we talk someday? Cry at all this? Laugh? Will our footsteps trail the same path somehow, somewhere, sometime? Will we ever be more than a ghost to each other?

Do you ever wonder if things could be different today… better, maybe?
Did it ever occurred to you that perhaps you could have given me a little more? More time? More compassion?
Did I even truly deserve anything more than what you gave me then? You gave me so much afteral. I am so thankful and yet I am so mad… or sad.

It is all mixed up in my mind to be truthful. It all collapses between my brain and my heart. 

I know I had my reasons to fail, to fail you, to fail everyone… to fail myself in the end. But why did I take it so badly and why did this all have to happen this bitterly?
Was it all a mistake, you believe? Was I, or we, mistaken all along… or when did things become a mistake?

I felt we had something that was magically ours… I thought that nothing, not distance or silence, nor chaos or death, could ever break the connection we shared... everything was little to describe what you were to me. I did believe the two of us, even with all that separated us, had a grace no one else had.
Did these feelings ever made any sense in your mind? When did it stop making sense? Why was that grace lost so instantly? Was it ever there in our hearts?

It is still so confusing and always so disheartening!
I don't know you anymore... and yet I care about you so profoundly. 
You are now a stranger, a shadow only, a silhouette, someone I had to cast away even if I loved you so deeply. 
You became just someone I once knew, a person I had to declare non-grata when I never actually intended to fight this kind of war. And why? Why did I have to fight like this? Because I loved you? Because when your love was gone mine didn't stop existing?... And how did your love fade so fast?... And why did mine persist so strong?

Can loving someone become such a big error? Does it deserve such punishment?

I am sorry, dear stranger.
I am sorry I question so much.
I am sorry I try to guess so far.
I am sorry I loved you.
I am sorry I didn't know how to hate you right when you first said goodbye.
I am sorry I didn't know how to not love…

Sometimes, all you have left in life are but toxic choices.

I am sorry. I am sad. I am sorry.
Forgive me, dear stranger. 
Just forgive me.



I run and run as the rains come
And I look up, I look up,
on my knees and out of luck,
I look up.
(…)
And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair."

Ted Dwane, Ben Lovett, Marcus Mumford and Country Marshall.

January 23, 2014

If life was the movie playing in my head.

Let's go to Vegas tonight... Go out all night, go crazy and wild, play the same cheap slot machines and go back to the hotel room only when the sun is already out. Our tired bodies won't win and we'll have breakfast on that same bar on the Strip, 2 for 1 Coronas and a yard-long margarita to go. The music won't let us sleep by the pool as our restless hands search for one another. It will be perfectly decadent... It will be love.

The dive.


When you love someone, a lover or a friend, that person attains the immediate value of ALL the things and ALL the persons in the world. Their opinion of you becomes an absolute truth, a sentence you uncomplainingly accept for yourself. You become the good and the bad they see in you, the virtue and the evil, the splendor and the insignificance! It is a power you give away. A power that can make you invincible, indestructibly talented, beautiful and capable… but it can also make you absolutely defeated!

She discovered all this the hardest possible way...

When the love that once embraced her was gone and regret took its place, bitterness dominated, making her soul too heavy for the body to carry, too somber, too crushed. Only then she recognized the force of that control she hadn’t noticed was not hers anymore. It was now a losing game when carrying on seemed impossible without that strength.

All of us search for the same understanding, the same comprehension. All of us string ourselves up for love and acceptance, for a bigger than life plan that will reveal the truth and make us recognize, not only all that we have ahead, but also all that we were and went through… a plan that can assure us we were not wasting our young years. This road is but a narrow clifwalk that needs all the balance one can gather.

When she lost the stability she had neatly built, even if just for a moment, when the shoulder she was leaning on was so suddenly gone and that lover she trusted disappeared down a palm tree road, it became momentarily hard to see any kind of bright vision ahead. Abruptly a gloomy feeling embraced all her body grasping deep for what was left of her heart… the darkness was so dense it extinguished all of the light and she briefly stop being. 

The way back to the surface from the deep hole of suffocating loss is a slow ascent, a controlled process of decompression, stage by stage, letting the air and light in gradually and teaching the lungs how to go from shallow to deep normal breaths full of oxygen…full of life. It is a path that must be taken gently to avoid shock… a difficult route to reach again the sunlight and the rainbow colors there is to enjoy... 

She had to learn to grow back to herself. Grow back her bones, her loins, her skin… stand again and walk again, with her own two crooked feet. For too long life lingered like a hazy dark fantasy, until she realized she had to trail alone through the tortuous, unconfident road, if there was any hope of retrieving that lost power… 

…And if she ever gets it back to herself, she will think twice before letting it fly away with anyone, for they one day might be, merely, someone she used to know.



"You wanna climb up the stairs,
I wanna push you back down.
But I let you inside,

So you can push me around.

If I leave before you,
And I walk out alone,
Keep your hands to yourself
When you follow me home.


I don’t want love."

Michael Jay Lerner, Peter Joseph Silberman and Darby Austin Cicci.

January 13, 2014

If life was the movie playing in my head.

Let's go out tonight, just you and I. Let's dance to some tired 80's songs or a top 40 pop single, drink shots of Patrón and act like teenagers again. We will go home after the music stops, laughing and still dancing while making silly promises to each other. You will give me a piggyback ride up the stairs, to your room and the world will seem ours just this once!

January 09, 2014

1329 days. 31 896 hours. 1 913 760 minutes.


Memory fades... it is meant like that for a reason. However, to this story, there is no reason, no proven science, no foolproof logic… and the memories remain.

1329 days passed. 31 896 hours or 1 913 760 minutes, and still, your story continues to fold into mine.

Dates became these time-full numbers that agitate the memories I tried to kill when I killed you in my imaginary world.

Dates turned out to be mementos I couldn't tear off of my spirit, relics of a long lost time I didn't want to let linger like it still does…

Dates converted into memorial services of all that we once were, from the day we first met and went dancing, to the moment I last saw your face, disheartened and weary.

Measuring time became a cruel task, a punishing job when looking back shows me a dark paradise deciding the halfhearted future that rests before my eyes.

Of those minutes, that are now left behind since the day my eyes first encountered yours, I don’t know how many I spent thinking your hand was still tightly grabbing mine.

Of those countless hours, I know I wasted too many daydreaming about you in my arms.

Of those days, which can already be counted in years, I know there wasn’t one that went by that I didn't imagine your smell, your face or the shiver you caused my spirit every time I could feel your warm breath down the line of my neck.

To this day, it is still your smile that I remember when the storm settles inside of me... that genuine curve of your lips, your big eyes smiling along, semi-closed with an almost childish spark to it, lightening up all the angles of your face. It still is the warm memory of that smile that lulls me back to sleep when the nights seems to want me awake. 

As time passed and feelings kept strong I had to decide, for the sake of my own heart, that you had to go... I had to let go. It seems, though, that a conflict will always be present…
In my rational mind I killed you and made you inexistent to me, and yet, you persist in the depths of my emotions and I couldn't ever help but save your love as a keepsake. 

I became these battles and, just like humanity was born from conflict, I am now made of the sum of all these struggles I stage both with others and with my own self.

I am not only the mellow, understanding spirit I try to nurture day to day, but also the enraged pitbull, too attached to the lost owner of its soul and desperately seeking for any survival instinct there may be lurking within.

It became a world of discrepancies, clashes, wars… killing or remembering, rage or love, you or me. 

In the middle of all this recurrent turbulence it seems, at times, that my life became but a continuous poem to you, this endless mournful song counting all the days you were not there and that ended up being all the days that I longed for you…

It feels that my whole existence is now solely this never-ending, somber elegy; an ode marking the date that never lost its meaning, when my soul achingly exploded in a million tiny pieces, each only a fraction of their whole self, each fighting to find again a way to complete themselves with each other, searching frantically for you... for their lost part. 

And as my soul searches, I start drowning in the emptiness of what I (can't) find…



"I run East until it turned into West
I walked the gravel to the snow, to the sea
But I found nothing that could look back in me
I found nothing that could look back in me
And I am as empty as the day I left
Before I came back home to you."

                                                    Jeffrey Martin