Always something in the way

Isn't it amazing how there is always something getting in the way, something that becomes a little bit more of a priority, something that comes lost in time and space and takes all the time and space, all we need to be and keep not being.
Why can't people see what's right in front of them and blindly weaken to these absurd priorities that mean nothing for tomorrow, nothing for the day after and so very little for today, but still, they sometimes prevent tomorrow to happen in a full shinning sun, and the day after from being real at all.
Should reality kill, overcome the dreams or should the dreams always be the ones to take the front line?
Why can't people see clearly the path to happiness when reality is just a mess? Why can't people make time for what is important, or for what can make tomorrow the special day and keep insisting in postponing, maybe later today, maybe tomorrow....
And as time goes by the sun shines less, the moon becomes shier and hides, behind the clouds... and tomorrow, tomorrow's shinning blue sky is no more than a beautiful memory, a long long gone dream hiding in some dark corner of our memories.

Pointing the finger right at me!

There is and will always be a very thin line between paradise and living hell, between dreams and reality, to me!

I will always be dreaming too fast (or faster than you) or too high(or higher than you). So naturally I'm always the first one to fall, the one that falls faster, harder.
I'm always giving all I have and what I should never give up, but the feelings burn me so truly that I always give what I have, what I don't have and what I should never give up! And I change. I change and suffer, this pain strikes so deep I swear I can barely breathe, barely love. And you? You keep going with your life, smiling, feeling fantastic, not even caring to know how I am, how I'm feeling, not even recognizing what I gave up for you, all I gave you.
One day (and that day, I feel it coming soon) I will say enough! One day all we had will be no more than a vain memory, sometimes a cruel dream. One day all will be gone, lost, impossible to repair or to restart. On that day I will know it was all your fault but I will be so fed up I won't even bother to point the finger right at you. Maybe because on that day you will no longer exist, in my life!

Theory of Chaos

In the beginning there was nothing! Good will, maybe desire, maybe the wish of something more... and Bang!!!! I was born and then it was decided: chaos will rule my existence!
Never, maybe until lately, maybe until now I realized such an important factor. Everything tends to go towards chaos, the ultimate disorder of the world, the last stop on our way to emptiness (or is it emptiness the first step to chaos?). My life was always the ultimate journey to the absolute and unresolved collapse and I never realized what I was doing until now, now that the end is closer!
But the theory goes on and on about the balance between chaos and its counterpart, its counterweight, but form here and looking back... there were moments of peace and happiness... but chaos always fascinated me, always made me give one more step than I really needed... one step closer to the end.
But the end can just mean another Bang! another beginning, the arrival of the blue skies and sunshines.
I guess my life doesn't challenge the laws of the universe: chaos, collapse and re-start!
One more step and I will jump, one more step and I will be born again... or will I remain the same?

Glass Castles (what I'm best at)

I'm reading a book! I go through the pages endlessly, sometimes wishing for time to stop so I can read until my eyes hurt and "the end" appears written in the pages.

In the beginning I did quite get it. What the hell are glass castles?
Now... as the pages left on my right hand begin to scarce... now I know that the book could very well be called dreams or unfinished life, or something like that.
But while I have a few more pages left, it made me think about all the glass castles in my life...
One day I was told I could be whatever I wanted to, be good at whatever I choose. Some say: do only what you are best at! Well, I guess I'm really good at dreaming... outstanding even... and I do pretty well at living too...
But I wish I didn't have so many glass castles in my life, so many unfinished stories, so many sand written promises and plans...
But then again... Dreaming is what I do best and without all my silly and impossible dreams I would have never felt the sweetness of a stolen kiss, the uniqueness of love, the realization of a dream becoming true!

Why?

Why are you so beautiful?
No wonder my heart is falling
For you
Day after day
Even more

Why are you so wonderful?
No wonder my mind craves
And is willing to pay
A penny for your thoughts
Even a million... kisses!

Why are you so far?
No wonder my eyes shut
Just to see you
And my dreams become you!

Why are you, you?
No wonder I have
A hard time
Being me
Without you!

Illusions

We all have our dreams, our goals, but sometimes those dreams are nothing but an illusion! They never had a chance to become true, maybe they were never dreams at all, simple mirages: we only see what we want to!
And we live that illusion as if it was reality, we feel and cry and tear and live and die... until one day the sun will shine brighter and a real dream comes along the sun beams...
Wait for the day when the sun will shine just for you and your dream will become true, or your illusion, a dream...

If I had one hundred flowers

If I had one hundred flowers I would be so much happy...
I would keep one for myself (I do like flowers) to shine beautifully in my room, lightning my days!
I would give you 63, because I love you 63 (I would give you one thousand because I care millions about you, but I only have one hundred flowers and 63 are white roses).
I would save 5 for each of the 5 graves of people I love and watch over me (and one millions tears of sadness and joy).
One perfect purple pansy for my one perfect first love, dried in between blank sheet of a big story book. One for my mom, a red carnation for my dad, two for Mariana and two for Ines, three for Maria and one... the last one... the last one for the river...
I guess if I had one hundred flowers I would need one hundred more...

Lost without a trace

Life has very funny ways!
One day I'm on top of the world, sharing smiles with complete strangers, joyfully appreciating every single second of my existence. The next day the sun shines on my window and lazily I wake up and hear the birds happily singing in the freshness of the morning. My eyes shine, my lips organize themselves in a way that no possible frown can hunt my days. But although everything is arranged in the same old perfect way of a happy day, I should know best that I'm already on the move to some other different day... one less bright...
Bad days always come and make me doubt of all the previous happiness. Was it just a dream, was it all just a cruel trick? Were we ever real?
I do remember the good days, and I miss them so much... But as time goes by I don't think I can still believe on a dream with nothing or very little to hold on to...
But soon the rain will come and my fears will be washed away and maybe my dreams will be true or maybe new dreams will come through

One day

One day you said it, clear and clean, all those three words I always waited for. And my day was brighter, and my heart was warmer but my fear was bigger...
I know that day was one of a kind, and in the end maybe all was worth it, all the tears and pain, to reach that day, that one day when a dream became words, those three beautiful words...
But now the clouds are back and the rain may fall at any moment... and that one day almost seems to far away... Will we ever say it again? Will that day forever stay?

The gift of the sea

You always seem to have the gift to know when I need you, even when I know I need you and decide I should take it like a man and do it, pass by it, on my own.
I worry, as I always did, more than before, and you tell me to calm down, that everything is ok: "Just started to miss you and wanted to hear your voice!"
I swear I can see you blush on the other side of the line, on the other side of the world where dawn is coming fast, while here night is never night at all. And we talk, and you listen to my never ending adventures, and ask all the right questions at the right time and slowly everything seems to make sense, in my troubled mind the light finally shines, all the confusion is now rationality.
And I always seem to be able to talk about everything, open my heart and my mind to you and I always seem to get the words I should listen.
As always, your words inspire my words, and before you I complained about the confusion of my words and now... now my words flow and my mind is clear, I can now see: I am me!

Bulletproof romance

We all search for the same thing. Maybe some of us search for something more, others for something less. We all search for attention, affection, passion, sex, love, tears, smiles, honesty, commitment,  and whatever else you can think of. But in the end all that we all look for is a bulletproof romance: no flaws, no lies, no weaknesses and loads and loads of good, great feelings...

Some of us just quit when they realize that there's no such thing. Others spend their all lives working hard to make it bulletproof.

I once learned: nothing lasts forever; nothing's perfect!

Yet I'm one of those that spend their lives fighting and trying and losing and trying again amd fighting harder and falling faster...

You once said:"You're a lover, not a fighter!"

Why am I not both?

The emptiness of us

Days and nights, the rain falling second after second for minutes in a row.
Memories of you, of us invade my room, my mind, my world.
I wonder: when did you leave? Did you leave at all?
But most importantly: were you ever real? Were we real at all?
Sometimes, in between my sleep, my happy dreams almost seem real: I feel your touch, your lips onto mine, your aroma, sweet orgasm in my nostrils. Sometimes, even when I'm awake and I can see you I doubt if it was real at all...
But then, then you smile and I smile and we both laugh and all the memories come back, and the certainty of our existence eases my main, my inner pain.
How did we get to here?
The question always comes shortly after you leave. And behind you leave the emptiness of us as my sole company, my faithful friend.

The End

In my head it all makes sense. But my heart keeps telling me I'm wrong. Sometimes it's a picture, a smell, a song the makes me dream.
My first love wrote me once a poem that I converted into a song. Today, while smoking and thinking of you, of us, I realized that I could have wrote the same words today:

Feeling sad everywhere I go
There's always something worrying me
Can't be happy where I am
Thinking of all that I could be
(...)
Let me rotten in a bag
Leave me hanging in a tree
Run away while I'm asleep
Forget about me

Is it time to leave it all behind? Can't seem to decide if the end is the right decision. Am I running away or finally facing the situation?
My dreams wait for me and tomorrow will always be a new day... Tomorrow!
Tomorrow may be too late
Tomorrow I may wash it away
Tomorrow
No words to sing

Poetry again

Can't really tell
If it's paradise
Or hell
But I guess it's just life
As good as it gets

Never forget
That wherever we are
High in the skies
Or deep in the sea
I will always love you!
And you'll always love me?

The fountain

It is said in my country that: "So many times the jar goes to the fountain, that eventually it will break!"
Once you start saying and doping the same things over and over again, once you start arguing with the same person over and over again, once the argument has the same subject over and over again... it will eventually break!
I do not know where do we stand now, I don't know how well the jar hold the water, but I believe it's been cracking for a long time. Did it break this time? How's gonna grab all the pieces? Will we be able to glue them back together? Or shall we forget about it all and simple die thirsty?

Back to Poetry

I'm afraid of the dark
I'm afraid of the light
I'm afraid of the ones I care and love
I'm afraid of the ones I hate

I'm afraid of the sea, the sun and the sand
I'm afraid a beautiful face will give me a hand
I'm afraid of falling in love again
And watch it go down the drain

I'm afraid of the rhymes of my words
I'm afraid of the things I might say
I'm afraid my lips rhyme with yours
I'm afraid, I'm afraid, I'm afraid

The emptyness of pleasure

Sometimes pleasure doesn't last as long as the orgasmic hormonal discharge. A few seconds of ecstasy after a few minutes of repetitive movements... or the longest ecstasy moments ever after hours of wild affective dancing... Pleasure and perfection, respectively.
And once you reach perfection it's almost impossible to forget it or even feel content with pleasure. And all I've been building my life around - pleasure - loses it's importance in just a second.
But for as much as I would like to pause life and give myself a break, I just keep going and giving myself to the pleasures of the flesh and smiling...
Yeah, it's not perfect, but it's pleasure and I can't help but smile!!!

Wrong turn

Along the way we all get the wrong turn!
Some more than others but along the way we all do something with the best intentions... and end up doing the worst thing possible!
We say "I love you" too many times or not enough, we kiss too much or too little... we suffocate or give too much space...
To find the balance is the key but now all doors are locked for me.
One day, who knows, maybe I'll get a right turn, but for now I just keep going 'till the time to turn comes again.

My life without it

That's life, that seems to be my life: without it!
It - a thing (love), a person (you, her), a feeling (love again, maybe happiness), a land (here?)...
Clouds form in the skies to gray my life, to make my days so much more similar to my soul... Rain hides behind the sun, but the moon doesn't show up either and I feel lonely, perfectly empty without the reason of my survival - feelings, happiness, love, you!
Having you here and not having you at all. Feeling your skin and your lips and not being able to distinguish you from ice, cold heartless rock...
My empty troubled mind generates no good ideas, no good sentences or verses now that I find myself completely lost in this small dream of mine...
One day a dream will be real again! One day I hope to still be here to live it again...

Same old, same old

We are funny animals!
Take a rat, a dog or a monkey. They easily learn the difference between reward and punishment. They easily identify actions that will result in pain and avoid them. Not us!
We have a certain tendency to learn with our mistakes but easily forget how much it hurt. And unlike other animals, if we forget the punishment we easily repeat the same behavior and sooner or later the pain of the punishment comes back. Not a shadow anymore in the back of our head, but true pain, sometimes even more intense than before.
And the first reaction is to complain, fill our lives with self-pity, blame other for the pain inflicted. Again we easily forget that it wasn't the first time and we should have learned, we shouldn't have done the same mistake twice, three times or four... So we're the only ones to blame!

So here I sit now. After an amazing bloom about coffee and queues and beautiful women, I blame myself. But only today! Tomorrow I shall forget the pain again, I shall not be conditioned again and I'll open my heart and my eyes and I will live another day for the first time and even if the sun just shines for a little bit I will smile and laugh and be who I'll never forget I am!