Tú hablas como la noche, te anuncias como la sed.

Ivy

Quiero llenarme de maravillas.

Que me salgan por los ojos, y ver otras miles regadas por los suelos, recogerlas y bordar con ellas los vestidos, que se me llene la boca de melaza, que vomite flores, que me duela el aire, que me tiemble el frío en los huesos.

Quiero vibrar con el fuego de las brasas entre pecho y espalda.

Mariposas amarillas.

Quiero aire entre los músculos, dolores, noches de gritos y comer migajas en algún rincón oscuro. Juntar guijarros, pintar paredes, escribir salmos.

Tengo ganas de desearte y deshacerme en lágrimas de rabia. Quiero perderte, o no tenerte, no alcanzar, no ser suficiente, que no me mires o no te interese, quiero que te tenga otra, que alguien despierte en tí estrellas, versos, canciones; que te haga arrastrar los tennis camino a mi casa cuando no te llama, quiero desear que tus ojos brillen igual cuando me mires. Quiero que ames a alguien más.

Y que eso me duela.

Cause this half ass crushes barely pinch my mood when they blow, and these fleeting infatuations neither make my soul rise nor crush it to pieces when they dissipate.

STK: Strange and Beautiful - Aqualung

I want to feel
even if it means it will hurt

Time is never time at all

http://twurl.nl/t00ukk

That first chords take me to a specific place.

A very exact moment in myself.

A very naive and hopeful self.

At 16 you are at your most alive and aware self. There's this sense that every single breath you take means something, is there for a reason, it's painful and the air tastes both sweet and tangy, you cannot tell what is that thing you are expecting, or working towards, but you can feel it coming over.

It's all about expecting that big wave. or drowning in what you think it is.

On my very specific case, I waited for a wave to sweep me, I waited on my toes for that one big night of impossibles, of wondrous thrills and delightful rush.

That night did happen, now I know.

Now, I remember all that I didn't notice while waiting.

I'm a fool to want you

There's a thunder in my heart

Unaware that you are tearing me asunder.

thump tack , thump tack, thump dum tack.

I can hear it.

.,.,.,..,.,.,..,.,.,..,

a third noise, every third beat.

Nothing big, nothing fancy.

A small tearing at a valve, a little flapping every closing making a fluttering noise every once in a while. But right then, right there, is my undoing.

Ours.

That tiny piece of land, was yours. And if you wanna know, know that it doesn't hurt me, but see? that's how deep the bullet lied already. growing roots and wings. Stretching room and adding a third noise to every third beat.

As it turns out, there's no spear point, no arrow, just gunpowder and fading sparks leaving small black marks allover.

That's all that is left, blank walls, wide open spaces for planning and building. Empty hallways.

And a third noise, every third beat.


STK: Without you Im nothing - Placebo and David Bowie

Strange infatuation, such imagination
instant correlation
I'd have taken it, by your side

., ., .., ., ., .., ., ., .., ., ., ..,

.,
.,
..,

Jugando a no quererte

Y cuando llega el mes de abril, y cuando quiero ir al desierto...
acabo haciendo un nuevo intento por saber de tí.

Pero no. A base de entrenamiento y resistencia, he aprendido a dejarlo a un lado. A ir contra el instinto de buscarte. La sobrevivencia básica me dice que respire, que levante la cabeza, still, I don't, I know better. Drown and let things be.

Cuando decido mejorar, y cuando me digo esto no es vivir...

Recuerdo que no se trata de mí.
It´s all about letting you be.

Me besas yo me hundo y sé...
que lo soñé.

What if this is as good as it gets?

What it is, and where it stops, nobody knows.

There's this place and time of day in which it all dissolves. This small spot in which nobody knows or cares where you are, this moment lost amongst the hours, where you can't actually tell the time, nor want to.

This place in the middle of your morning, while walking down an empty hallway or sitting at your desk, where nobody knows where you are, immersed in their jobs, paperwork, bank waiting lines, drinking awful coffee and eating takeout in their cubicles. They don't know, nor care, where you are. You don't cross anybody's mind.

This one time in the middle of the night when everybody else sleeps dreaming of meals and paperwork, aliens or trips to the beach, in which you are not present, or as they go out to drink their asses senseless,your friends are out, on the dancefloor making the best fools of themselves or singing at a concert at the top of their lungs; and end the night in a random one night stand or slur things to their loved ones over the cellphone.Right then and there: Not a single person that knows you thinks about you.

The proverbial tree falling in the middle of the forest.

Only, not so hypothetical...
I wanna leave but the world won't let me go.

A kiss on the arch of my eyebrow.

That's all it would take.

Pinch me with a fork,
cause Im done.

Sensory Overload

Life as it is, is amazing, wonderful, full of surprises and delicious things to all senses. Quoting one of my favorite movies, I notice, as I write it down.

Still, today I feel like that. I see it all, I feel the wonders of the life around me, I taste the delectable food at my table, I feel the sweetnes of the breeze thru my hair, I hear my favorite songs in endless loops, I stare at a peaceful sleeping child on my lap by a pool and smell freshly mowed grass.

All is well.

And out of reach at the same time.

And in the absence of human touch...

I feel as if someone was to touch me right now, I'd vanish into thin air.

Your eyes roam over me
and I quiver and tremble like a leaf.

I see you, running as fast as your feet can take you, with your eyes almost closed, as in concentration, or pushing yourself further, o simply, in anticipation of what is yet to come, and which you know already.

I see your fingertips vanish, and just as if you wanted to remain by getting a grip of your backpack, your knuckles whiten and I can imagine the inner side of your fingers redden; your eyes shut even tighter. On what would be your final step I can see the sole of your left shoe vanish from down upwards, and like a fire burning your foot seems to jump a bit, as if trying to get away from the source vanishing it, but like paper burning the lightened edges of your knee are next, a border of orange and gold shimers eating out up your legs and arms. In between seconds, the smoldering force consumes you whole.

But on that final instant, when only your face remained, as the neck dissapeared it managed to turn your head and I saw that flash of panic and recognition in your eyes.

Those eyes I was yet to meet.

STK: Bright Eyes - First Day of my Life.

In the dark I call you my own
I sing, I see it grow
the past that will be ours.

reminiscence

Volver atrás no es precisamente lo mío.

Pero a veces no se puede evitar, tienes que regresar, te guste o no. And so, here I am.

Going backward on my footsteps. Seeing myself years back and feel nothing. There was no nostalgic tinge to it, I was plainly looking at the ghost of years past, and waved in recognition as it passed me by.

The future is what troubles me now. Change in scenery, needed yet feared, as is all that remains unknown.

like you...

votre voix est un cher plaisir coupable