waiting...

three is a magic number...

...but two is the one I like.

Whenever I'm feeling down, troubled or frustrated, I can only look one way. Whenever the world is on its back and the sun starts burning my eyes, I can only turn one way. Whenever I'm happy, satisfied or euphoric, I still look the same way. There are a million ways of saying things, but sometimes you need one more. Some people use different languages, some people buy things, but I like writing and using metaphors. My words are my way. Love, care, kiss... they can all find a place in one's sentences. But for them to find their way through your heart and then to a piece of paper, a computer keyboard or whichever tool you choose is different. When you feel it's your soul that creates those words deep inside and then sends them to your heart is what makes you feel alive. And if that special someone is by your side, it makes the unbearable disappear.

I feel alive, I feel strong, I feel anything can be done. But I only feel it when the numbers are with me.

And that's where the number two comes in.

today.

Another monday, another week. A short shower and the usual plate of cereal acompannied me as the sun started shining, somehow the memories of the just ended weekend, the last one and many before can't rub off. Perfect, that's what we've called them. Perfect... sometimes it's too big of an adjective, but in this case, it might be falling short. The weekdays aren't bad either... Every day she amazes me. Everyday we amaze me. I never thought I could promise forever, but now I have; and every molecule of my being is backing it up. Forever... Perfect... the words crappy romance novels are made of. But they are, at the same time, words that have been plaguing my mind lately, and I mean it in a agood way.

Another monday, another week. Another adventure in this newfound life of mine. Five weekdays will be spent missing her, and the weekend will be for making up for it.

Another monday, another week. Grab my hand and let's go.

reign o'er me....

I've always loved rainy days. The sky closes as a silver lining substitutes blue gold. The birds start flying home, searching for a place to pass the storm at. Suddenly a cold blow covers your body and streams through your soul, while the smells in the air thrust into your senses. Light recedes as an instant of peace welcomes that first drop. Some say that the sky starts falling. I like to say that the world starts living. Greens become greener. The air becomes pure as the earth opens its mouth to receive a fresh drink of that precious liquid. Water pours down as right as only rain can be.
For some, rain marks the beginning of spring. For others, it's a sign of winter. For us, living in a land in an eternal season of growth, these downpours only mean quiet afternoons indoors and adventurous experiences outside. Dancing with your lover under the rain or staying home alone, letting the continous resonnance of drops hitting the land turn the noise into quiet.
When the world awakens after a shower of liquid sunshine, everything is more alive than it was minutes before. Life begins and ends with rain.
When you come inside after walking under the rain, a hot bath and dry clothes are the closest to paradise you could ever wish for. Whenever I feel myself in that situation, memories dress my mind as a mixed feeling of nostalgia and relief envelop me.

I love rainy days.

for what it's worth...

I'm sorry.

Sorry if sometimes I don't give you the importance you deserve. Sorry if sometimes I don't know what to say. Sorry if I don't listen to you hard enough. Sorry if sometimes I say things that are totally wrong. Sorry if I don't show you enough how much I care for you, how much I love you. Sorry if sometimes things aren't what you expected. Sorry if I forget, and if I don't. Sorry if sometimes I'm too proud. Sorry if I apologize too much.

But then again I am not.

I'm not sorry about that new way of seeing the world that you've taught me. I'm not sorry of how you've conquered my fears and insecurities and made them irrelevant. I'm not sorry of how I've learned to enjoy watching TV, a glass of wine and staying in bed long after I woke. I'm not sorry because I now know that sometimes the best way of fixing things is by talking them out. I'm not sorry because I've gotten to see the real you, the one that can make me crumble with a simple smile, blush with a well-positioned kiss and believe that maybe, after all, I can change.


for what it's worth.

sunday mourning

the ink flows like waves in front of me
the same waves that washed you away
the same waves that used to frame our sunsets

i try to write a message to you
but i wishfully hope that you've already read my heart

your footsteps have been washed away
but i could trace them again & again
all the way to where you stood that day

your skin has been taken back
but i hould describe it again & again
all the way to its tinyest fold

i hopefully stare at the ocean
for it to bring your ashes
in a new form


heaven's a word where she comes from
haven't a word where she's gone
and in a word, i am alone
into the dark where she's gone

....

Sometimes it seems we've been at this for years... Sometimes it seems it's been a few hours. Sometimes it seems you smile only for me, and you smile most of the time. Sometimes you make me feel alive. Sometimes you make me feel I'm dreaming. Sometimes you make me feel calm. Sometimes you make me feel strong, but you make me feel happy all the time. Sometimes I go to sleep thinking of you. Sometimes I wake up and I'm still thinking of you. Sometimes it's the moon, sometimes it's the sun, sometimes it's the beach and sometimes it's the waves, but it's your face all of the time. Sometimes it's the way you touch me, sometimes it's the way you don't. Sometimes it's the way you make me stop thinking, sometimes it's the way you make me miss you. Sometimes it's the way you speak, most of the time it's the way you don't. I guess it's how I like it all, how I like it more every day.

i believe

i tried to remember how to write
just to remember this moment
i will see it in your eyes
and the past will never end

i believe in every word that i say
i believe in the sunset every day

a prophet will enlighten me
in every step that i take
what i read makes me free
in every page that i make

i believein what makes the sun shine
i believe in what i hear all the time

i believe in miracles
no, i believe in what can be done

she

She keeps pieces of me in her pocket. Some I've given to her, some she just took. She looks better with her glasses on. They bring out her smile. She smiles a lot. Sometimes, she drinks too much coffee and speaks faster than usual. I like her best in those occasions. She says she's crazy, I'm pretty sure she is. In a good way, I suppose.

She's always cold. She picks her food but somehow I don't mind. Maybe it's because she does it with grace and decision. She stares at me when she's speaking of important things. She stares at me when I speak to her. When she gets excited, there's no stopping her. She gets stressed easily, but when she relaxes, she relaxes for good. She always gets what she wants. Sometimes, she seems uptight and high-maintenance, but deep inside, she's sweet and gets pleased with little things. She cares about people. She's a good listener, but a better speaker. She stops time. She always goes the extra mile although most of the time, she goes for two. She can turn the smallest object into a reminder of her. She puts passion into everything. She eats her fingernails when she’s nervous. Her mind goes faster than everybody else’s. She likes milk in her coffee, and two tablespoons sugar. She likes napkins around her drinks. She dances while she’s sitting down. I could go on and on. Let’s just say she simply is.

a million years behind

Duermo entre montañas y volcanes
y sueño que vuelo sobre ellos
me alejo...
me pierdo...
I know that somewhere in the Universe
There's a shooting star passing by
Watching us smile...

Vivo entre piedras y matorrales
y nado para llegar a otros lugares
me duermo...
me encuentro...
We have the power to see the past
If we look at a star's light
We'll look a millin years behind

Escribo entre arboles y paredes
tengo una ventana enfrente
me elevo...
me alejo...
I know there are stars to be found
Where the light is brighter than here
I know there are.

Pana, Earth. 01/01/01

strange rainy day

I'm not speaking
I'm just singing
To get you to sleep
I'm your lullaby
Your strange rainy day
And I want you to take me
Back to your cloud
WHere everybody's happy
Where everyone knows
how to be...

.....

That night, she sat on her bed and cried. Some days were better than others, some days were good, but most of them were bad. "Some days, life just turns its back on you", she thought. And as she held her head between her hands, she began wondering if she wasn't running out of chances to being happy.

The night is over. She should stop dreaming. And thinking. Sometimes she thinks too much. Sometimes, words come out of her mouth that end up hurting other people. Sometimes, words come out of her mouth that hurt no one but herself. The radio starts humming. "In the end, the love you receive equals to the love you give", says the DJ. She doesn't believe that to be true. She thinks she's given much more than what she's got. Cold shower, or is it hot? Somehow she doesn't notice anymore. First cigarette once she's out on the sidewalk. Running away might be a good idea, or maybe not. She starts walking towards her school. She passes some people but she doesn't want to see faces today. She doesn't want to see the sun either. If there was a pill that could make her stop feeling, she would take it. If there only was such a pill...

Her friend says it's not worth it. How can her friend know? Her friend isn't running out of chances to being happy. She is. Her friend says she'll find someone else to be happy with. She doesn't want to be happy with anybody else. Her friend... she doesn't have anything against her friend, she knows her friend is trying. She keeps on walking and sees him, sitting in his class. She can't stand to look at him without wanting to run to him. He used to make her feel special. She used to like the person she became when she was with him. She's having a hard time letting go. Where will everything go? The moments, the conversations, the past, the future... is it all lost? The thought of never again being held in his arms is enough to make her cry. She starts crying again. She sits down and just stares... stares at nothing. Too much to think, so little space in her brain. She thinks too much. That's what her friend says. As much as she'd like to believe her friend, she just can't.

back to life

we walked on bridges
while they were burning
we stopped halfway to the shore
and watched the show as our bodies caught fire
her light was red and mine was green
our souls flew lost into the night
as we lit each other's way

we stepped on stones
as she said to me "don't go"
but i walked as she stayed behind
following me with her stare
next to me in her mind
my eyes were red and hers were green
our souls touched each other's light
as the rain brought us back to life

"Pero a ti, en tu pequeño planeta, te bastaba correr tu silla unos pasos. Y mirabas el crepúsculo siempre que te apetecía...
- ¡Un día vi ponerse el sol cuarenta y tres veces!
Y un poco más tarde añadías:
- Sabes... cuando uno se encuentra tan triste, gustan las puestas del sol...
-¿Tan triste estabas el día de las cuarenta y trs veces?
Pero el principito no respondió."

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Le petit prince.

The story of Theo & his magical star-shaped kitten

I stepped onto the sandlot, Johnny and Joey were there, along with Chrissy and Mary. Joey was telling the story of Theo and his kitten that was shaped like a star.

One day, Theo had found a star-shaped kitten while taking a walk through the park. He fed and cared for it until he realized the kitten had magical powers. The kitten seemed to disappear and reappear in different places. It seemed to get along with the rest of the animals pretty well, even plants responded to it. One day, the kitten spoke.
"I have to go home, will you come with me to my long lost star?"
Theo, without a thought, followed his kitten in a voyage through space and time. He didn't pack a bag. Didn't even take a map with him, because the lightest travelers can take the time to see the world without caring for their baggage. In Theo's case, he got to see the Universe. There they went, travelling from star to star.

As they travelled, Theo asked himself: "Now that I have seen the Universe, does it belong to my world or do I belong to its thought?" And he knew that the more he stepped where no man had been before, he would become the Universe and the Universe would become him. Soon he would be his own master.

One day (if we might call it that while travelling through space and time), they reached the destination of their interstellar travesy. The planet was bursting with star-shaped kittens. They walked around, climbed on sofa-shaped hills and played with fur-covered mice. As he looked around, Theo realized he had become what the star-shaped kitten was on Earth, for strangers are only so when they are amongst ourselves. In that planet, pain disappeared and the kitten's magic stopped being so, for special powers aren't so when at everybody's reach.

In that planet, Theo lived and died and lived again. A thousand years went by and Theo ne'er grew old. One day, boredom caught up to him, so he decided to jump from star to star and see different planets. Once again, he took no bags, because a man's only posessions are in his head and in his pockets.
"If I jump from star to star for a long, long time, he thought, maybe I will find home again and go back to my people to make them as wise as I am." What Theo didn't know was that the Universe never ends and he wouldn't find the star-shaped kitten's star nor the place he called home. And this is where he learned his final lesson: a wise man's only weakness lies in what he has left behind.

3h24

"dreaming somehow of time spent together lying down inmersed in what we never were and what we'll always be..."

Je m'excuse si mon français n'est pas le meilleur, ça fait longtemps que je ne l'écris pas. Ma situation actuelle est un peu compliquée.

Ma vie peut se résumer en une histoire qui se repète cycliquement chaque un ou deux ans: je connais une fille, je la connais un peu mieux, je tombe amoureux, elle ne veut être que mon amie. Je commence à me fatiguer.

Quoi peux-je faire pour couper ce cycle et avoir une vie normale au moins une fois? Je ne peux pas changer mon escence - c'est moi, c'est ma vie et je cherche à être complémenté, et je sais qu'à quelque part il y a une personne qui est sur cette planète que pour moi. Je ne peux non plus reprimmer mes sentiments, cela ne finirait que par me tuer. Éviter les personnes avec qui ce genre d'affaires m'arrive? Impossible.

Chaque fois que çà m'arrive j'arrive à penser que cela va me faire plus fort, que la prochaine fois je ne tomberais pas si facilement et que peut-être ma peau deviendra très résistente et rien ne pourra la pénétrer. C'est pas vrai, j'ai aussi de mal aujourd'hui quil y à un ou cinq ans.

J'arrive même à penser que le discours est toujours le même: "T'es mon ami, t'es vraiment trop spécial pour moi, je ne veux pas perdre notre amitié, tu mérites quelqu'une meuilleure que moi..." Je le connais par coeur. C'est une bonne idée de mettre certains points au clair:
Dès le moment où la conversation commence, l'amitié est déjà perdue. Dire que tout va continuer comme auparavant es le plus gros mensonje qu'on peut écouter.
Si ce n'est pas moi le problème et j'ai plein de qualités, je voudrais savoir ce que vous attendais de quelqu'un... si le problème est que que vous me trouvez moche, DITES-LE! Un peu d'honnêteté n'a jamais tué personne et au moins ce serait une meilleure raison que "T'es trop bon pour moi".

Je ne peux pas dormir, c'es 4 heures du matin... dans quelques moments, le monde va continuer. La vie ne s'arrête pas. Ce matin je vais aller travailler. J'ai plein de choses à faire.

blueberries & cream

"i'm alright, it's just tonight
it's just a broken heart"
Eddie Vedder - Broken hearted

Don't let happiness bite you in the nose. It might hurt too much.

I built around her houses filled with ghosts that came out on a full moon. An acoustic image impregnated by her voice made me want to die listening to her. A thousand windows on her wall have been covered by the fog. Spring has come and gone in a minute or so. Stopped in shore, betting on castles in the air that turned out to be made of sand, washed away by the sea. Not a trace.

A moment can last forever just by looking at a person's eyes. From now on my soul and her eyes will beforever changed. They will treasure this moment and the world will keep on turning while I stand beside and look. Colors turn to grey. I can't escape anymore. But maybe, just maybe, she'll remember the taste of blueberries & cream and seize the day. She's not gone. She will never be gone. Still I already miss her. I feel I'm becoming colorblind, lost and looking for a green light to her mind.

That's it for now. Sorry. Never been too good at happy endings.

happiness, happi-less

Don't let happiness bite you in the nose. It might be contagious.

When I was sixteen, I used to think that being miserable was a way of life, that I was "happy being sad" , looking back, I can say that I feared being happy. I feared getting that happiness itch on my nose and then having it spread all through my body and before knowing it, losing all inspiration to write, to make music and to make my world turn. During this time of my life, I used to take actions that I knew would hurt me in order to function. By ninteen, I realized that I was living on an illusion: I didn't have the need to torture myself emotionally for my system to work. Maybe happiness was, after all, attainable. I still feared it, though, for reasons that I still don't understand. I had some weak attempts at being happy but overall, I kept myself busy enough to not have the time to care for my well-being. I was living in a mild state of "not happy, not sad". I used to say I enjoyed being by myself.

Six years later, I'm waking up from that numbness and realizing that I'm in a stage in my life where I have the right of happiness. Bliss can come in many ways, but it's usually when you get a taste of it that you start craving it. When a person comes along that blows your mind away and touches your life in such a fashion that it loses all stability. Such person makes you question your ways, think about the future and set yourself a new stage to reach. Such person makes you feel the itch and helps to spread it all over you.

40 shades of grey: a guide to loneliness

woke up feeling numb... was it the cold?
or was it that I had no one to look for?
stumbled throught the streets
wondering if I'll ever be alright... if I'll ever fell alright
washing my love in a river of thoughts.

losing hope is the first step to loneliness

stared at the people and the grey sky
as a light mist covered my mind
and the life I once devised
was drowning in grey... was drowning in blue
and dragging me down with it.

not caring is the second step to loneliness

got lost in a crowd and the crowd became me
as the notions of love and hate
grew blurrier by the moment.
Will I ever accept this? Accept my reality?
and stop wearing this mask

lying to yourself is the third step to loneliness.

mad like crazy

As I walk down the street, that cold wind that always precedes rain starts blowing. We're only halfway through February. It shouldn't be raining.

If there's something I like even more than rain, is the moment right before it. Cold wind, smells floating on the air. Nature opens itself for a piece of sky. Earth gets ready for a drink of sweet, sweet water. Never is the world more alive than at that precise moment. Everything relates to it. Like a flower blossoms in spring, the world awakens when it rains. Birds flying back to their nest, looking for a place to pass the storm at. That lack of sunlight that somehow reminds you of those dark moments in your life.

When the first drops start falling, the perfect moment gets a perfect complement. Magic in a drop, that's how I like to call it. Life, that's how she liked to call it. But to see her, to see her was such a wonderful sight...

overwhelming

People come and then they go. Someday I will leave too. I have never believed that change is bad, the hard part is surviving it. We should learn from the butterflies. A caterpillar builds its chrysalis and prepares for change. Time passes until one day, a butterfly breaks it and its wings, still crumpled and wet begin drying under the sun. This is when a butterfly is most susceptible to predators. The same thing happens to us. Whenever we're trying to adapt to a new enviroment is when we risk not surviving change. The odds of surviving, not unlike butterflies, are slim, but still it's a risk we have to take.

We differ from butterflies because we are able to percieve that change, we feel it coming and most of the time we choose not to accept it. We know the outcome of change, but fear prevents us... butterflies change without knowing the outcome. That should be enough to help us overcome fear.

by the sea and sand

Thirty yards off the shoreline. The sun's glow reflected on the dark sand. I feel that mild sting of salt water in my eyes. Six twenty-seven in the morning, or so my internal clock tells me. Slept on a hammock, dawn woke me up. Sunday morning. Sunday mourning. I mourn for no one but myself.

Last night, many songs were played, many people were met. Last night, I felt alive. Today, I'm not so sure anymore. It's not a lack of sleep, water or food. It's not excess nicotine either. It's a feeling of emptiness that has been around for too long.

Yoga on the beach. People running. Good morning sun, here I am. May your warmth bring life back to me. Yesterday was Velentine's day for some. Yesterday a couple found love somewhere. Twenty others lost it and millions thought what they had would last forever. Even that illusion would have made me happy. At least for a day... or maybe two.

Sorry. You don't need to drink to be hung-over.

i wish

as i melt near the heat of the sunset
can't stop thinking of you
i hope you're watching it too
looking back, you're in every step i took
walking under the rain
i didn't see you today
i wish i was allowed to miss you
i wish, i wish, i wish for a sign in the dark
i wish you held the strings that hold me to the ground
i wish the stars were young and your eyes were in them all the time
i wish time didn't fly without carrying me on...
i wish dusk belonged to you so i could visit you anytime
i wish anywhere was your home so i could see you again
i wish i didn't care and i wish you did

all my life

Woke up in the middle of the night
Time to take a break from thinking of you
The thought of someday needing you
Haunting my mind...

And in my dream I was afraid
Of feeling the wrong kind of thing
For the right kind of you
As I always do

You see, I'm way past 22
Still having dreams of green and blue
But when they are of grey and black
I can't go back
It tears my world apart

Stole my words from a little kid
I can't believe, but sometimes I feel
Wisdom has escaped from me
Into the sea, and I'm lost in here

I'll wrap my gift in a paper thin
Print of leopard skin
It's left laying in front of me
Still I feel I'm just a commodity

You see, all this rave of you and I
Dancing in my mind
Makes me feel life passing me by
And still I try to change my lie

undone

the world has come undone

like to change it everyday

change don't come at once

it's a wave building before it breaks

Eddie Vedder - Undone

Sometimes the world opens up in front of you. Sometimes things change for the better. Sometimes you can stop and appreciate all life around you. But sometimes, the world implodes in front of you, things only change for worse and you can't seem to find anything positive in what surrounds you.

These are times when you have to take decisions. Should you try and change things for the better or should you just take a step and see how low can you drop? When swallowing your feelings is not an option anymore, both options are one and the same. It usually depends on what the world can do for you. A leap of faith that has to end all doubt. Whether the outcome is positive or negative isn't up to you anymore. It's up to the universe to favor you. It's up to aother person to welcome you or forever ban you.

Let's see how it goes.

read between the limes

The easiest way to have something misunderstood when you're writing is getting it read in a different way than you intended. For example, when the writer tries to get across ideas that lay in the deep of his heart, but the reader tries to interpret the text rationally, the message delivered by the first gets lost somewhere on the way to the former.

What I've found works in preventing this type of things is reading with an open mind. I've re-read letters that I received 6 or 7 years ago and finally got the message the writer had intended for me. It was quite a shock and changed some of the premises I had been working on for many years, but like a message in a bottle finally reaching its long lost destination, the writer had his message delivered... and understood.

We should read between the limes, and between the oranges when it becomes necessary.

every picture tells a story...

and every story has a bit of love behind it.



I have been going through some hard times in my life. True, my friends are behind or near me most of the time, but there are other parts of my life that make the rest miserable: my work sucks (but isn't that how work is supposed to be?), I don't really know where I'm heading to and every day I feel lonelier.

Sometimes we take certain aspects of our lives and try to make them perfect. We immerse ourselves in work to compensate our lack of personal fulfillment. We materialize every emotion and shop away our worries in order to forget our existential meaninglessness. We oversocialize on a non-personal basis because deep inside, we're afraid of sharing our deepest thoughts with one and only one person.

And this is where the girl comes in (she always seems to, doesn't she?). Whenever I lose balance in one of my "perfect" spots (in this case, work), I realize how deep this overcompensation has gone into my being. Every time work stresses me out, my lack of emotional fulfillment is brought out. And this is where things start to clear for me. Maybe I work too much and worry too much about unimportant events. Maybe I try to keep my mind busy all of the time and forget what is meaningful for me. And maybe, just maybe, I am, after all, in love.

And only accept it when I'm down.

just add water and watch it grow

Just add water and watch it grow

She is a cat person. She swears it isn't true, but I'm pretty sure she is. She just has never had one. She's never had a coat either, and she's always cold. I guess that's why she's always asking other people for theirs.
- Meow, she said that morning. She was wearing her pale yellow pajamas and had a bottle of juice in her hand. - Here's breakfast.

It's funny how sometimes you want to forget everything and go back to what you used to know when you were a kid. She is that way. She's always asking how stuff works; wondering if there's a little bit of magic to everything. Other times, her idea of fun is so naïve, I get surprised. But then, she snaps back to her normal self and becomes a grown-up woman in matters of seconds. You can see it in her face and in her hands. You can hear it in her voice. It's weird, but I've managed to love both of them.

i wish the signs were clearer

i should learn how to follow

i gotta get there somehow

quisiera aprender a ver y no decir nada

i should stop running

sometimes i sit and wonder what it would have been like