About my babe

I'm gonna be forever yours babe. No matter what!!! Just call my name and I'll be there for you!

About needing you

I can't see how I can leave. I do want to edit my life. The room was so dark last night I wouldn't be able to see your eyes if you were here. There was music. The music we made ours. But there was only me. You know. Your voice whispered. Your impressions on my soul. I had you on my mind. I had you. A long time ago. Maybe it was just the image of you that makes me stay. What do I do with our story? What do I do to the story that my mind is writing about us? Is this the final chapter? And then I feel the pressure of your hands on my hips. Gentle. I remember you spending time with me. Spending time on me. Your voice. I try to avoid thinking, it's painful. I miss the things we whispered about. The naps on the coach and the peace, the passion. We're going to get back on track, but that to me is like offering a cage to a free bird. We hope and wait and clash. And keep on searching for something we're not going to find anywhere else. Because we already have. Because we've tasted each other and now nothing tastes as sweet. And hope sometimes isn't enough. I don't pray. I don't have God to rely on. Would he save me? Would he give me patience? Would he know what I need?

And everytime I try to fly I fall
without my wings I feel so small.
And everytime I see you in my dreams
I see your face,
you're hauting me
I guess I need you babe

About inspiration

It's Friday morning and he makes plans. I wake up, brush my teeth and take a look at myself in the mirror. I miss the days in which I used to write and be inspired. I look at people and I just see consumption.How could I possibly redeem myself? Should I? Courage can also blind us. I am happy I made this far, babe. For someone who has always fought against the odds and has swum against the tides, I made it very far. It hurts so much to do so much with so little. I don’t understand why.That piece was just a confused draft. My pieces aren't good enough. I want to come back to who I was. To that little girl with pure heart. But all I have is a hurt soul. Look at my hands, they bleed. Pardon my grammar, Mr. Right. English is not my first language. Love is and I am screwed.

About decisions and reasons

I waited for you. For a couple of minutes I actually fed my hungry imagination with the idea that you would be waiting for me outside, with a smile on your face and a look in your eyes that would remind us the possibility that even at the end, it's still possible - can you see that sarcasm can be beautiful? - to find the person you're leaving behind special. Special still. I waited for you for long hours that night. Impatient with the nonsense, the people and their meaningless subjects, the unattractive scents. So, I turned you off. I opened my eyes to the new. It was quite painful at the beginning. Painful but tolerable. Tolerable but selective. And if I'm selective it's because I have options. And if I have options I might get one right. So I launched myself into the city and it's lights. And that doesn't exclude you. It's just makes you less present. We got it right for a while. It was over for the many reasons we are so tired of knowing. But we did get it right. And it is with unconditional love that I'll always remember of that sense of rightness and belonging. And maybe someday - why not - no hard feelings would come to my mind when I think about it. Because we were good to each other and no one will never understand what we had together.
I didn't forget you. And maybe I won't. It all started with wine and everytime I see two bottles, the memory of that night makes me smile and all the worries fade away. I decided to stop loving you when I got the e-mail. And I still suffer because to stop loving someone it's to lose the feelings and say good bye to the passion, it's forget the good things. To stop loving someone it's to erase a little time of your life, it's to lose the sense of direction, it's to get free from the addiction. It's to suffer. And when I talk about suffer I'm talking about what it takes - don't cry or get depressive, but suffer enough to have all my internal structures destroyed so I can look at the mirror, feel the scars on my soul, and still believe in me. To stop loving someone it's to know that we don't know a lot about life. And not to know about life makes us want to learn a little more. I didn't forget you, but I don't feel so much when I think about your speech and your reasons. I guess the song's ending and our dance is over. I love you still, but it doesn't hurt me nor scare me. It doesn't make me proud either. I'm letting go of our intentions, our ideas, our little and our everything. And that's what it is - I'm still loyal to my feelings and still believe that's what really matters, and you're still loyal to you confort, safe zone and sticking to it till the end.

I'll always love to see myself reflected in your eyes.

About Hope

Rosa SAT, so Martin could WALK, so Obama could RUN, so our children can FLY

About New York

In the arms of a city that holds no trace for, the face or, space for you and me. So go make your life, not a living. LIVE!

About my writing

I lost the rhythm of writing. Writing breathes with a certain rhythm and I have lost that. I have lost that intensity. I have lost that idea I used to have that my writings are important. I have lost that idea that, perhaps, some of my pieces are good and could inspire beautiful things in people.

About your e-mail and how it made me feel

What do I think about your e-mail? Hummm. It wasn't really any surprise what you said, cause I know your speech very well. I know you're able to touch my curiosity and sometimes, my senses. No surprise at all, only the old wave of pain, that old friend of mine that now screams a little lower than before. I read it with attention and with a feeling that I've heard it all before. And I turned off the suffering, no drama, no hope, ignoring the sensation that when you say "see you soon" it really means a definitive goodbye. What I want to say and what you'll be able to feel from now on it's that you don't own me any longer. I'm very proud to say that you finally got it. You've already hurt me in so many ways, but now, it got to a point where I can look at you without feeling anything. At least, anything that makes me smile. I'm talking about the non-feeling. This weird non-feeling that was born when the perception that helped me see the lights and chose the directions died. Now, with this perception gone, I don't need to see through your eyes, I don't need to feel like sharing every happy memory with you. At the end - after I looked for the reasons to explain how you can't affect me anymore, why you can't turn me on with nothing more than a blink like you used to, why you can not turn my world upside down again, why you can't make cry or smile - it doesn't make me that sad. Because what we had together, even though it was brief, was also very intense, fun, unexplainable, and we did enjoy every moment, so to say I wish I've never meet you would be nothing but unfair. I'll just finally admit it's over. You can say that maybe, someday, somehow... but I don't believe it. It's over for good. And I'll move on.

Good bye, my babe. Take good care of my heart, cause I left it with you!

About nightmares

I don't feel good.
'cause last night I had a nightmare with crazy psychopathic neighbors, children made out of wood and even Obama. I woke up at 2 o'clock in the afternoon only because I had to work at 4. And even thought it's already midnight I don't feel fully awake. Maybe because I'm sitting here waiting for the train, with nothing else to do but wonder. Or maybe this is all only a dream so I'd better run before the crazy neighbor comes after me again.