Dreaming
Should be an option. Is not an option.
I heard your voice through a photograph
I thought it up and brought up the past
Once you know you can never go back
Absolutely convinced
If our Love song
Could fly over mountains
Could laugh at the ocean
Just like the films
Well, it could have. If I had not been a disaster. An idiot. And now, you are flying a different song with someone, laughing at the ocean, living the real film, rather than this illusion which was all I could offer for a glimpse of time.
Only I don't show I care
And if I do not show and do not do, do I even ever learn?
There was a time when I believed
That you belonged to me
But now I know your heart is shackled
To a memory
The more I learn to care for you
The more we drift apart
Yet again
Concealed, ashamed, a veiled wish only for you in disguise.
Why I do not muster the courage to write you directly, I do not know. I am afraid of upsetting you, I am afraid of your anger, I am afraid I may be read by someone else, I am afraid to cause you pain, but most of all, I am afraid you think it is meaningless.
Merry Christmas, my Love, I shall say one day.
Sunsets are proof
that endings can be beautiful too.
Except, There's no beginning, There'll be no end.
There was a time when there seemed to be everything, and therefore, now it is crystal clear there is nothing. Logical deduction, there was never anything, just a glitch in your system. Had I stayed, what would come next and how fast? Only, conditional is only on me, because I did not risk, I did not dare, I did not stay. How come am I that upset? Guess my inner system was destroyed forever.
No longer functioning without you, just booting everyday with minimum memory, energy, purpose. While you speed fast, excited, meaningfully, making the world your Oyster. Unaware or even forgetful about my existence. But you are absolutely right, for I stopped existing the day I stepped out of your car and onto that empty airport and airplane.
Resistiré
Cuando el mundo pierda toda magia
Cuando mi enemigo sea yo
Cuando me apuñale la nostalgia
Y no reconozca ni mi voz
Cuando me amenace la locura
Cuando en mi moneda salga cruz
Cuando el diablo pase la factura
O si alguna vez me faltas tú
(Y aunque los sueños se me rompan en pedazos)
No future
No present
Wondering if there was ever a past, as the past cannot be present, and you cannot build a future without the present.
Farewell. For the hundreth time. Be gentle. Be happy. Be bright.
Be you.
The right question
What's the use? Of Life, the Universe and Everything?
You are gone unto someone else's arms. I lie here, missing you. With no purpose or will.
It is what it is.
Mind is a razor blade.
Broken down and hungry for your love
With no way to feed it
Where are you tonight?
A fool was I
I journey through the desert
Of the mind with no hope
I follow
I drift along the ocean
Dead lifeboat in the sun
End come undone
Pleasantly caving in
I come undone
And I realize you're mine
Indeed a fool am I
Souvenir?
Plutôt subvenire.
So close, yet so far. So wanted, yet so forsaken. So psyched, yet so silent.
So eager, yet so spent.
All those places
I cannot unsee.
All those places
I would return too in a heartbeat.
Places of joy, places of sorrow,
Places of forgiveness, places of Trust and Truth.
Moments of Love, Moments in Love.
Can't help
Imagining sitting next to you on a plane.
Where would we be heading? How would you squeeze my hand? How soft would you turn to me? How could we keep still, without grabbing each other for so long?
Which adventures would await? How comfy would be our returns? How smooth would we sail?
Would, could, should.
And yet, couldn't, didn't, won't.
And can't help neither myself nor ourselves. You do not need my help anyhow.
Look!
Our naked torsos, squeezing against each other, our faces gleaming with delight reflected on the mirror, our legs interwined, invisible to the eye.
The past few days, I looked and looked, and did not see you. I was not meant to, I guess. What would have happened, either way? Laughter of hate? Tears of sadness? Cry of anger?
Trip down the memory lane.
Cowardly, scizophrenically, hopefully.
Through la rue du purgatoire vers la rue d'enfer.
Reinforced shame. Unbearable regret. Smiling through a play, in a hedious role, in face of a sad drama.
Enough is enough.
I was hungry, you fed me
I was thristy, you poured a glass
I was craving, you opened yourself up for me
I was sleepy, you invited me
I was exhausted, you encouraged me
I was crying, you held me
How come I am missing you, and all there is is silence?
System 1
Mood evidently affects the operation of System 1: when we are uncomfortable and unhappy, we lose touch with our intuition.
I'm a bum, I'm a punk
I could have been someone
Well so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can't make it all alone
I've built my dreams around you
Does it matter?
No matter how many trees I plant, trim, rewild, the truth is that my legacy will be only shadows, suffering and pain.
I treat people like I do trees. Nurture, care, then leave them all by themselves to grow against the elements, become strong and beautiful in spite of me.
In spite of me.