Desolate

I've never been so sad...

Calles

The
Mysterious
Yearning
Secretive
Sad
Lonely
Troubled
Confused
Loving
Musical
Gifted
Intelligent
Beautiful
Tender
Sensitive
Haunted
Passionate
Talented

Pierced

You said so much without full knowledge of the situation. As a matter of fact you haven't met me, yet you touched me with an invincible strength. It didn't last long. That feeling of inevitability lingering around. That anxious look begging for mercy, with humbleness and desperation. The uncontrolled twitch, the quivering spine, the vacuous eyes. The insatiable knowledge fluttering aggressively in front of your face reminding you of all that could have been. But in the midst of all your suffering I was there holding your hand, imbibing your feelings, sucking up every possible past that in the end, was not but a precise reflection of mine.

She was standing there, right next to you. Her entire back was leaning against the car. Unclear who was holding what; mysterious as it sounds, the vehicle that had transported her would have preferred her permanence next to you, even if some stringent repugnance was obvious upon the disgusting need to share. The topping was now black. How did it go through so many options, encompassing such a range of insecurity and search for self-identity? The tone will never fail to be present, not as long as the anxiety remains. Mounstrous beasts with unquenchable ferocity still linger in your thoughts, promising never to go. And you wonder whether they are alive in your mind only. A by-product of your imagination perhaps, you wish they had never been taken away from your life.

You opened a trap and, like your friends, I've chosen to let myself be captured and rebuild my life on top of the debris. You did not decide accordingly. Your bad.

Squirt rhymes with words at times

Sometimes everything is just not enough. I wonder what's the ultimate driver: ambition, thirst, greed,...? At what point is the glass half full or rather full? I'm about to throw a lot of discs to the recepient, hopefully it will be able to hold a few. Unquenchable appetite is remarkably easy to control sometimes, but one will fall at the sight of the next ldkjfa. What the fuck. Or rather fuck?

Cicatriz en la pata

Soy el oso que se cortó una pata con una rama en el bosque. Ya cicatrizó, pero cada vez que piso la nieve, puedo observar la cicatriz marcada en mi huella.

En cada paso.

Y en ocasiones basta un punto verde para observar la cicatriz y vivir su recuerdo.

The gargoyle and the eunuch

It's finally coming. I am about to complete the first version, which will be submitted to editors in the near future. I am quite excited, but there is a natural sense of fear and anxiety that clouds my euphoria. I've been asked what the style is. It's difficult to define, but I guess it's an existential adventure, with a touch of Robbins, the rethoric of Rand and the literary elegance of George Bush.
Wish me luck. I've invested a shitload of time on this effort, distracting my attention from many other areas, including this page.
Happy non-denominational holidays!

Unusual elegy

You died before your time, but then again, you also lived before your time. You didn't live for long, but Roy reminds us that "the light that burns twice as bright lasts half as long". Ironic as it is to verify that all that is good is doomed to whither. Aujourd'hui elle est mort.

Same day last year I was abruptly awaken by your candor. One of the bright spots that ought to be remembered for the longest time. So much light, sadly finite. But some things are meant to be passers-by.

The Earth completed its path once again. One of the most interesting turns recorded recently. Such good outcomes. A new palindrome, 365 to go, and then it will be gone.