Regrets pile up sometimes. 

As you try to resolve things around you; it's unavoidable to go back to all the things you've done wrong or fail to acomplish. I keep going back to memories of  things I wish I could change. I keep walking past memory lane and analize the crap out of everything. 

This latest failure to launch gave me a new perspective of things. Mistakes go both ways; yes, but in the end there's a stack of facts that are pile up on my side, and that I must admit reflect perfectly my very common pattern of behavior. 

I do things my way. I choose to be where I am. I chose, I keep on choosing it. 

I'd love to have done a lot of things some other way, but regrets end up being just a few after a close look.

I don't regret you; but I don't regret letting you go. 
I regret him, but also I regret letting him go.

I don't pretend to make any sense. 

STK: Daniel - Elton John 

You could be happy and I won't know.

De este cuerpo mío que se ha convertido en río...

Hay recuerdos que te llegan de golpe y te tumban.

O es acaso que soy muy buena olvidando las cosas que no quiero pensar; y de repente se me vienen encima como si me sucediesen de nuevo. Hoy te pienso, como hacía años que no lo hacía. más de 6 años de la última vez que te vi y hoy el recuerdo se me sube como muerto. 

Mis arrepentimientos por la vida muchas veces vienen de todo aquello que no hice, de todo lo que no dije, de todo lo que no viví por falta de acción.

Contigo pienso en todo lo que puse en la línea y todo lo que traté de decirte y hacerte saber. Y pues nada, que pasaste de todo. 

Supongo a veces que fuiste todo el karma que le debía a la vida. 

La rubia endemoniada que me tocaba en la vida. 

STK: Bubbly Toes - Jack Johnson

In this blue shade, my tears dry on their own

"People think they know you. They think they know how you're handling a situation. But the truth is no one knows. No one knows what happens after you leave them, when you're lying in bed or sitting over your breakfast alone and all you want to do is cry or scream. They don't know what's going on inside your head-the mind-numbing cocktail of anger and sadness and guilt. This isn't their fault. They just don't know. And so they pretend and they say you're doing great when you're really not. And this makes everyone feel better. Everybody but you."
― William H. Woodward, Jr.

Nothing else ends

I've got absolutely no sad or angry recollection of you. I've got no angry comments to add. I cherish the time we shared and looking back I guess I can't honestly say I'd give it up. Still is very hard for me to be alright. I miss. 

I'm amiss. 

There's a huge vacant space where everything that was yours was: past, present, future, posibilities and dreams. There will be no new place, no adopting a dog, no shared holidays and a lot of further plans I can't even write down because I feel ashamed of how trite and ridiculous they sound now. 

I keep repeating myself. I can't get around this. I keep writting with a lot of punctuation, trying to be final or to make things sound like a sentence. My sentence. 

Which is stupid, because I am still alive, and the rest of my life has decided to go on without you and might go on without me if I don't run to catch it. In a haste I'm chasing everything and finding that moving on is terribly easy. I hate that; I wish the world would've stopped when we did. But if anything, it has decided to move even faster, and suddenly the rest of my life is shaping itself by it's own and has absolutely nothing to do with anything I've ever dreamed.

And it isn't such a bad thing, is just... Sad.

(I keep using that silly little word, I swear I'm using a synonyms dictionary next time. Or stop writting about being sad) 

STK: Mika - No Happy Ending 

This is the way that we love; 

like it's forever, 

then live the rest of our lives, 

but not together.

Cravings

Se me antoja tu cama. Se me antoja ese lugar bajo las sábanas donde no hay nada más en el universo que mi pierna entre las tuyas y mi boca centímetros debajo de tu barbilla .

Te me antojas escape, refugio, solaz, fortaleza, torre y sótano. Donde estas tú, nadie me alcanza, nada me toca. Mas que tú.

STK: Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros - Home


Wherever there is you.

Outlet

David was born on a Tuesday.

That seemed to bear some importance at his house. And he would come to find out what it was, in due time; but while growing up, it was simply one of those weird cryptic answers his mother gave every once in a while.

This particular answer came up whenever anyone asked her about her son's character, or when some explanation towards his behavior needed to be given. Like that one time when he broke the cookie jar trying to grab it from the top of the refrigerator, took all the pieces, and nibbled at the ceramic instead, the chocolate chip cookies, forgotten on the kitchen yellow tiles.

It must be said that such statements weren't usual behaviour from David's mom, as a matter of fact, it was so unusual, that it made it stand out more. You'd imagine such a reply from one of those absent minded moms that wear long flowing skirts and seem a bit aloof with always a piece of something in their big hair.

But David's mom was nowhere close to that. David's mom was... A mom. In the most true sense of it.

It was actually very difficult for David to imagine his mom being anything else. As if this was her place all along, after a short stage of childhood just in order to let his grandfather snap a couple of pictures, and then she skipped all the way to the part in which she had a polaroid taken at the hospital by his father while holding a red and clearly squealing David.

Future musings brought David's attention to this one moment. This one picture and all that seemed to stand out. First it was the fact that it was a Polaroid. The mere idea of his parents owning one of those cameras seemed odd, and one time during 5th grade he inquired about the camera to have his father telling him from behind his newspaper that they didn't own one in one of those dismisive tones that gave no space to further inquiry.

Then there was his mother's face. There was no doubt it was her; and yet, at a simple glance, you wouldn't match that cheerful and careless beaming; almost childlike, playful and excited, with the woman always folding laundry while watching the evening news.

It all made sense one day. The same day he figured out he hand't lost his mind, it was just that his world, was entirely bonkers.

Souvenirs

I wish words were my forte.

But Im only good at feeling things. Containing enough things bottled and flowing from and thru me. Making something useful or beautiful with it has always been a problem.

My entire life I've lived collecting things, moments, feelings, snapshots of my life, knitting and entwining them with my favorite songs, pretty strings and flowers, adding quotes from books, and listing them by years, sure and certain that someday I would be able to express them, print them, sing, write or draw them into papers, walls, or other surface.

Sadly, none of such talent was ever developed by me, and all these things are still in here.

Today, I wish I could say something about that first time your hand touched my forearm.

STK: DCfC - I will follow you into the dark

I´ll keep a snapshot of your fingers

for years to come.

Maybe this time is different

Hay dolores que se archivan, se etiquetan, clasifican por color, año y estación, y se guardan en un cajón.

Pero hay días, como estos, en los que me gustan para extrañarte, sacar los discos (o mp3's) viejos, el folder con tu recuerdo y tomando un café junto a la ventana, fumarme la historia de nuevo, sentir el dolor de espalda entre los hombros y llorarte así, a poquito.

Sin tristeza, sin el enojo que solía acompañarla, sin extrañarte en realidad. Pura, mera, total y absoluta melancolía sin adulterar.

A sonar narices, sorber el pozo de café, y apagar la música.

STK: Bright Eyes - First Day Of My Life

Que de no ser tan feliz ahora,

no me atrevería a pensarte .

Hoy quiero ser un batracio venenoso.

No es una imagen agradable ni metáfora romanticoide de esas que tanto me gustan. Hoy tengo ganas de poder sudar a manera de líquido paralizante el terror y la incertidumbre que me inunda el cuerpo.

Me deliro, me desplumo ¿Y cómo es posible no saber tanto?

En mí es de noche

Elizabethtown

Casi.

Pero no estoy segura de ser la heroína de la historia. No es reproche, no es reclamo, es sólo esta sensación de... ¿Desmerecer? ¿Existe la palabra?

Esta sensación de personaje eventual en la historia, just in passing, nunca la mujer que inspira grandes romances, tragedias o sonetos. Ni una canción con dedicatoria por la radio.

"Im just a Claire."

Quiero... Te quiero. Pero no a medias, ni a ratos, ni con desgana.

En la otra orilla de la noche,

el amor es posible

- llévame -

Otherwise, leave me be.

STK: Rufus Wainwright - Go or go ahead

So go, or go ahead and just try me

De los puntos ciegos.

Y los puntos y comas.

Esos periodos de vida en que no pasa nada. Nada, as in non relevant stuff, despertar, vivir, estudiar, aburrirse, hacer vida, cumplir con horas acumuladas y juntar millas de vuelo hasta que se escriban las siguientes lineas algo asi como:

"Se fué a vivir a México, a estudiar de lunes a sábados hasta que un día; sin previo aviso..."

Se convirtió en un slushie de mandarina,

se volvió harekrishna,

se le cayó un brazo,

terminó enrolada en la marina francesa tras una noche de tragos coquetos,

inventó un sabor de helado y se lo vendió a ben & jerry's

descubrió que la tierra en realidad SI es plana y está equilibrada sobre el lomo de una tortuga...

Las posibilidades se antojan infinitas.

The Life Erratic with Sarah Tous

afterglow

"You looked happy, with a secret"

Tú me desatas los ojos

y por favor

que me hables

siempre.

"que me haga reir,

que su risa me encante"

and there he is.

Bestia

Sueños recurrentes.

Mi subconsciente planea.

Y mis dedos vuelan, y las letras me faltan, me sobran, me rebasan, para decirte todas las veces que pueda, lo que voy a callar por dias. Porque la voz no es uno de nuestro medios disponibles, pero a fuerza de escribirlo todas las veces posibles, me aseguro de que lo sientas.

Entre cada beso en tu piel, en cada toque de mis dedos, en los suspiros en tu cabello, cuando te llame por tu nombre, cuando me ría con tu risa, en mis pies frios entre tus piernas, con mi sonrisa escondida en tu pecho, en los buenos dias, en las tardes, en nuestras buenas noches. Transparente.

Mis ojos te lo dicen todo, mi boca lo arrulla y en mi piel se suda.

Un te quiero de mil cabezas.

No tengo voz para decirlo,
por eso vengo y te lo escribo.

Hay una pequeña soledad hecha ovillo y dormida entre mis omóplatos.
Ramas como brazos, tu espalda como patrón.

Breadcrumbs and sighs.

En sueños extiendo las puntas de mis pies buscando el suelo o tus piernas.

Igualmente me despierta cada noche el espanto de caer.

No ground, no you,
not yet.

I never check expiration dates

There I go again.

Pero no puedo evitarlo, ni me gusta hacerlo.

Todo está en hallarle el gusto a pesar de saber que las posibilidades no favorecen un resultado positivo. Conozco mi lugar, mis estadísticas, las tendencias del mercado y los resultados de las encuestas.

Y aún así, no pienso oponerme a algo que se desenvuelve con tanta facilidad como esto. I don't even have to try.

Es todo un domingo en calcetines y platos de cereal. Una tarde de jueves sin compromisos, un martes de puente, un lunes lluvioso bajo las cobijas. Un té con azucar morena, el thrill de escuchar una nueva canción maravilla, probar por vez primera algo que sabes que será una de tus comidas favoritas. El agradable deja vú de volver a un lugar que en realidad no conoces.

Cómodo como si tuviera una vida con mis piernas entre las tuyas, fascinante como toda primera prueba.

There's something about us. But that's just about it.

All I need to know,
all I need, in fact