martes, 29 de enero de 2013

Locked lips

Under burdening circumstances. Is there regret? I can't say. I know that I don't know what I want to know. What is this, anyway? Do I want it, or am I just going on by muscle memory? Lips locked and eyes closed, I walk away and let it go.

Greener pastures on the other side of the sidewalk.

sábado, 26 de enero de 2013

What is and what should never be

Designed by a cosmic fluke. Fail one single time, once, and the whole thing is broken. This balance we dangle on, they take for granted, but I don't. I know that there's no future but the future that there is, and maybe there are maybes that need to go unanswered, but I want anyway. I want today, I want it now, I need it now. To know, perhaps, that there's enough of it for me to be taken, for me to be considered a fleeting being, something that may leave any second, cherished for that, kept close.

It may not make sense, because nothing's written and nothing's forever, but in my dream there's life and love, and, dare I say? Will. There's a will, so there must be a way, somehow. Sooner or later, I'll get that, I'll get that place I know I deserve, that special place where no one else can fit. But maybe by then it's too late. By coincidence or by design.

lunes, 21 de enero de 2013


"Marry me."

"You have to be kidding me. Again."

"No kidding. Marry me. I'll say it as many times as I have to."

Stuck in a catch-22, damned if I do, damned if I don't. Would love to say yes. Would love to love him. And maybe I like him, a lot. True friend and ever-present, he can be my platonic would-be, and I can dream all I want, it's fine. The feeling that something's got to give never comes, never the crash, never the fall.

"You're stuck with me for a long while."


Admirable, how he turns my world upside-down, how he makes my frowns become smiles, how unfair this is. Unfair because I'm still learning. He's learning, too. I'd love to kiss his hands, to set the both of us free. And maybe then we can eat cranberries like crazy while road-tripping through Lousiana all the way to the North Pole. We'd make a damn fine couple too.

So maybe I'm not marrying you... yet.

sábado, 12 de enero de 2013

In the after-shower

Can it work? I'm not willing to play my hoodoo, so I can only wish and hope. Sometimes that's enough, time proved that, but I'm becoming tired of the push and pull tug-o-war game, so I loosen my hold on the rope, not drop it, but see what happens with that. Maybe, who knows, by the time the time comes, what will happen then.

For the time being, a trip to underland and welcoming arms in my dreams.

domingo, 6 de enero de 2013


I'm finding myself out of my comfort zone. Not sure which path to take, just that I have to go forward. I may go and find myself what I look for, or I may keep trying to stay the best. There's a certain something uncomfortable about that, maybe that I can't be the best forever, and I want to be the best even when I'm not at my strongest. I may reach out for the vast unknown or I may stay and see what happens, and maybe this is home, but I'm in for a roadtrip. Who knows, if it has to be, it will be.

sábado, 5 de enero de 2013


Looking through the one-way mirror, spying on things unreachable. I see it, like augmented reality, like a reality show, privy to a world where I don't belong anymore. Turned into something new and refined and different and so much not like you while I wasn't looking, and now I am left staring at you instead of just seeing through you, opaque wall of granite. I don't know who you are, I realize. It seems familiar, but it's not. You seem to be here, but you're gone.

miércoles, 2 de enero de 2013


Es tener tantas cosas y no poder cogerlas, sentir piel contra piel y quedarme callada, escuchar reir y no ser la causa. Frustración, pero leve pena, dulce y sin profundidad.

martes, 1 de enero de 2013

What you are.

That which we fight for defines who we are. Strip me bare of all the material things, of all comodities I have. Leave me naked and fighting to survive, and the question is sure to arise: 'what do I fight for?'. Doubts and fears aside, little there is in life that I would die for, but there's enough that it makes life worth living.

My family first, family meaning all those close to me that I can't and won't live without, those whose smile light up my days, those whose embrace fends off the dark of my darkest hour.

Then, art. I live off of artistic stimulation. Love, made true through notes, letters, ink, sand and whatever that will make my mind go numb with unadultered beauty. Fragile, aggressive, untouchable. Man-made or nature, for nature is the greatest artist.

So all in all, there is a conclusion to be reached. Love, in all its forms and shapes, is what I live for, what I would fight for, what I am.

What are you?