how can people do it ? you know ? go over so many things in life and still go ahead ? it seems like most of the people would do better in just taking a new course, i don't get it. it's weird. i'm lost right now because it doesn't make sense.

at times it just seems like we're meant to move forward, but what happens when you actually have NO idea what to do?

rant

that's all i can do

An Island

No man is an island.
Ever heard that? Someone said it once.
I don't even know who, can't even remember where I heard it.
But, it's not true.

Every mind is an island.
Isolated, booming with life.
Connections to so many other places, the ocean vast around it; a plethora of routes to all ends of the world.

BUT

the true connections are to those around it, those close to it, sharing the same piece of ocean and land. we're all islands somehow, we can connect to anyone, but it's those select few around us that we have a mutualistic-symbiotic relationship with, those are our links.

State of Mind

It's a state of mind I am in.
It must be. It should be.
It's like an ethereal absence I feel.
Where did it all go? What to do now?

I'm the leaf drifting endlessly - you the breeze.

It's a state of mind I am in.
It has to be. It must be.
My eyes are stranded.
Where do I look? Where do I go?

I am an empty vase at the entrance of your heart.

What must I do? What has to be done?
My tongue is locked.
This has to be. This must be.
It's a state of mine I am in.

I'm the pebble run over with your love.

Sept. 6, 2007

Ulterior Motives

I looked at her lying still besides me. Her chest moved with every breath. Fast asleep. I can’t sleep. I move a strand of hair from her face; the dark black curls wrap my fingers. Her milky white skin is inviting me to kiss her. I long to see her eyes; I wish to immerse myself in them. Even when she spoke I would be lost in her eyes, lost in the depth of them. Her nakedness did not call me any longer. I wanted to see her eyes once more. I had stared into them the whole time. Even as she squirmed and screamed with pleasure, I had only been captivated by her eyes.

Now, I longed for them once more. I wanted them.

I kissed her mouth and kept my eyes open. I awaited. She smiled and there they were. Her arms wrapped around me and she pulled me close to her. I held myself over her. A tiny freckle on her right cheek welcomed me. I knew what she wanted. I did not dare blink to not miss a moment. I felt myself get lost in her sky blue eyes. I never blinked. Even as she squirmed and screamed with pleasure.

Waltz at Window

I stared at the windowsill. I observed the broken, battered wooden frame of the window. A sparkling diamond seemed to shine from it. I pressed it and rubbed it about; a clean spot in the dusty windowsill. So many years of my life and all I had left was this window. This frame. This dust. This glass. This broken wood.

I felt the grooves of wood at my fingertips. I examined it, shifting my empty glance upward. I caught a glimpse at my reflection. The beard stubs mix-matching between pitch black and white. A blink-less stare. A lost expression.

I pushed the window up. I felt a calm, soothing breeze lash against my face. I felt my hair dance in the wind. If only I could feel as it felt. I felt nothing. The wind waltzed. I swallowed.

I stared at the broken frame and gripped it. My hair danced to and fro. If only I could feel as it felt.

existential depression

i can't take this
it brakes, it halts
a constant juggle
tears of ...
are these tears?

why doesn't it ever stop?
a lack of existence, presides
where do i begin?
where do i end?
does it begin? does it end?

life as an exposed film
life as a scratched record

life?

q error

el error más grande que cometemos es querer que los otros sean como nosotros queremos que sean, no como ellos son de verdad. creemos que nuestros problemas sobrepasan de importancia aquellos problemas de otros. nos enfocamos en nosotros mismos y nos olvidamos de la existencia de otros y de sus problemas. nos olvidamos.

... pfft ...

nos hacemos de la vista gorda!

que idiotez la de nosotros de seguir viviendo como egoístas. nos decoramos y nos ponemos para que todos nos vean. que vean nuestras labores, nuestras labores TAN generosas. bahhh ¿cómo podemos ser tan generosos si somos tan egoístas?

la perfección no existe. solamente podemos buscar la perfección dentro de la imperfección.

que error que todos cometemos o, por lo menos, hemos cometido... que cuando nos damos cuenta de lo que hemos hecho ya es tan tarde. que error. que idiotez la de nosotros!

inspired by "El Lado Oscuro del Corazón"