Nine to twelve

Te extraño mucho
fuiste mi primer abrazo del año... sentido, hondo, en cercanía.
Agradecido a ti, bella mujer. Gracias por tanto océano de amor.
¡Espero verte en mis sueños!

Poetry is sad.

Berlin wall

I think of the exact point where I could be more human. I remember this bromance between two Hollywood actor pals, named Keanu and River, uneducated beings who defended nature, cats, and the kind and simple life. an example of the beauty of union in the face of the unpredictable ups and downs of living on a planet of chaos. A magical coincidence to counteract the impact of my fragility, like sentimental dreams between robots and malice. 

oh how much you can stay!

come back, come back, and give me that hug I'm waiting for so long!

the chemicals that constitute me. the chemistry that lies within me. they are both the magnet I possess between the appearance of sweet dreams and regenerative chocolate. 

like a hope, born of a child who wanted to understand the world, who wanted to meet someone and know so much about her and everything, but failed. I failed. in the midst of the astral strike. and I am left with the treasure of dreaming of you or thinking of you in silence, and watching the sky sounding like music. thinking that there is a shirt that can represent a beach, a pair of pants a Parisian park at night. a hat that is morning light in a hotel room that was paradise in the dawn hours.

I will love you, but I will never speak to you again!
I feel if I am strong enough. dream magic.

How much I pray that even if you never come back, you feel these words, and this energy comes.

I will love you, but I never speak to you again!

I feel that if I really belong. dream magic. 

They say it's 7 years you will carry my energy, there are 6 left until it dissolves me. with all the eternal love, seconds, and dreamlike ether. Gods of love, I believed them, I felt it. I met love, though she rejected me. Young comrade, under the sky of Russia and Japan.

guiding forever

On the mountain full of gemstones I could see the poverty of my bones, the skinniness of my fingers, and the uncomfortable gap between my skin and his jewels. Mounted convinced, invincible of yellow days and a puncture in my temples. From my cheeks I heard the whine enunciated by my lonely face, rising up my hunched neck. Oh curvature of discs and spine of this strong and movable neck that supports me. 

I sensed the death of my spirit, but also the old age of being chained to a destiny of stones upon tides. Like the weather at the end of the month, there is a lot of fun music but also space for solitude. 

The call for a new beginning for the morning after, the closing eclipse of this 31st night. 

Ghosts over Genesis of all the choices we made.

Enough for the spirit of the skies that is wide, like blue solitude, and the place of tears in silver bubbles. For the steel rings and colored stones I wear, it is but a ritual. That I must weave to win and live on.

In all directions I begin and end, I come and go.

I am Russian superstition, the sale of a red bear, who wears jewelry and weapons, and who in the steppe feels a subtle headache while eating pizza and watching the sky of auroras.
State of peace. I am the destiny of a white hand, small and mystical. I believe in stars and angels, in stones and gamma rays. I am Russian superstition.

electro-p

 Wait.
moves, 
wave your hand, 
as if wanting to detach you from nails, skin, fascia and opportunities for evolution.
I look at my thin fingers and would like them thicker.
I would like to carry the banner of liberation. 
like a yellow cat, leaping over a plain of winds and comrades.
It is a moment where I can say every morning, today will be a wonderful day, and wow do I paint to the sky that belief.
I say it to myself and I do it fast.
I am and feel times of connection with what I must be to create meaning in my life.

Nothing hurts like you

The day I die, nobody came, what a shame. 
I'm waiting to feel alright, dancing with tears in my eyes, dancing at my funeral.

like others' crazy design, cymatics of my heart, your vibration, oh you, oscillating skin

push the air of my shine

inside you, get out of my eyes.

Cymatics from my game, you choose spades, I prefer hearts.

resonance of that precious moment, it was you, always you

I tried to forget you, pardon the voices in my head 

keen kisses behind you, under me,

guide me to sleep in the memories of oblivion, miss.

Yelling blue

everything you said breaks the Cycle
here, to help me, so do something
let me make, how to listen? 
trying beautiful
I turn this up for you
the sweet color of sunshine, stars of my do

Glimpse

The origin of silence becomes young, takes my breathe, because nowhere is too fast, the noise is what kills me, remembering everything.

corner upon corner, she runs over the horizon, all her venom in that cruel message, made me feel like I'm not a person. Feeling like I'm nothing because I'm fucked.

Need attention, but it's too cold, and she doesn't shine for me. Its only a lie between me and my hopes.

Incinerate merman

When everything goes together with the precious look of your beautiful eyes when you smile, who cares about the kingdom of lights. 

Water that flows and appears astonishing next to waves of questions, humble before the presence of time and the execution of destiny.

it is unbelievable, I am unbelievable. I have the creation of fables.

if the shadows are drawn on digital screens, which we can see updated in a contrast of tiny eternity that lasts only a few minutes, maybe seconds. As a witness that what remains of someone you love, is an indirect reflection of their publications, of their following. No one but me is waiting for the soul, for the beginning of the Thursday of Roman candles.

in mercury retrograde

a prosecutor and a journalist got married on April 30, and on Tuesday, May 12, organized crime killed him on Colombia's Baru beach. From what I could read, the wife, now a widow and carrying her first pregnancy, loved him very much. and surely, he loved her.

In this harsh scene of the tragedy, death is handcrafted by the interests of human wickedness. We are automatic beings who rule under abjection, who decide with the selfishness of revenge, who act at the end of death with the fear of being unpunished, a who in surprise take a life with gunshots on the last beautiful morning of honeymoon in Baru, Colombia.

The time of life is complex. The time of being nothing lasts forever. 

To surrender everything, heart and spirit, before the execution of a destiny that mutates from water to ether, in the shot that spills blood on the sand. We cannot escape the grim reaper, and I am saddened by the closing of that love story, it seemed so sweet and powerful, sweethearts since December 21, known for some time before.  

seven seals, seven stars. sun and night in the creation of tragedies and hard trials. a match into my brain.

Awareness

To believe is to become!
The few elements of our world were once just solutions to fears. So, in that case fire, water, wind, earth and ether bring the origin of my creation. Universes between my thoughts, heartbeats for my soul. Because ideas are what change lives, and that was the first idea that changed mine.

Hygge

Il s'agit d'une première tentative en français.
Cette phrase m'est venue ce matin. Nous ne sommes pas dans cette vie pour réussir, ni même pour être aimés. Nous sommes ici pour ÊTRE.
Et c'est ce qui compte. Avec l'espoir, avec la foi. 
Aujourd'hui c'est un premier samedi 2 avril, sachant qu'elle existe, papillon beau et brillant bichota, mais elle n'est plus proche. 
Et je termine ici.

I told some friends that starting April on Friday is a good time to make wishes from the heart. What I would wish for, is to find that path of actions toward building a meaningful life. That is achieved by aligning my values as compasses, like autumn songs to know what and who to say yes to and let go of the other.
Honestly, all the pain I go through and went through points to a transformation.  My broken heart, my soul in scraps, the stitching of my skin, the shadow of death and rejection, and more heartache as it has led me to act to survive. Resolve the crisis, and keep resolving. 
But, there must be closure.
I must try to build meaningful days, with actions that give meaning to my life. By me for me. Of course, there is still a long way to go, I must have patience and compassion.
But I can no longer be in a state of survival.
Because a life of merely surviving cannot be endured without falling into depression or suicide. So facing a sunny afternoon, the first Saturday of April, which is also day 02. The precise day of your birthday celebration. Great day of celebration even if I no longer see or speak to you.
I tell myself that I must be clear about what things are important to me.
And I think about the systemic.
I start from a triple idea. Pain and my shadow, it starts from three triggers.  My individual responsibility, my family history, and the sick society.
And I want, I seek, to get out of the swamp of not doing things that are important to me. Life is also beautiful, also crying and confusion. That is the chorus for my funeral. It is BEING. 
I am.
With questions, with significance to know my meaning and what matters to me. Enjoy.
I miss you mom, I learn to live without you, too. 
I am.
I miss you Karrartev, I learn to live distanced and silent for you.
I am.
I will be.
And I don't want to give up, yet.
I am.

Yuanfen

They tell me that then one morning I will wake up, and I will be able to say I am well. I just have to be patient. And accept these contradictory states.

I can feel bad and do good things. It's part of grieving and giving myself that compassion. 

I can be a good friend and feel bad

I can be a good worker and feel bad

I can play you cool music and feel bad

It's sappy. My sappy.

How I'm supposed to heal.

If I miss the voice of both. But you have to accept what I can't change like we all do.

Anyway.

Tomorrow is a new month, April again arrived and waiting for me. But it will never be the same again. There is a new awareness, a new longing for days two. A new emptiness in space. 

Yuanfen is a Chinese principle that defines those loves that were born predestined.

María Ofelia

Cerraste tus ojos y te llevaste la gran y mejor parte de mi corazón.
No bastan ni ideas, lenguaje o emoción para exponer el acontecimiento de que hayas partido de este mundo, en corporalidad, ¿en ondulación, seguirás?

El día más oscuro y triste de mi vida llegó y extiende su sombra por varios días, y creo con sinceridad que el dolor aunque cicatrice lo cargaré por siempre. como una luna menguante que cesa, que es oscura para llenar lo que queda de mi corazón en incertidumbre y pena. 

Lo que vivo, lo que sé nuevo, lo que sorprenda, tendrá la falta de tu presencia y de tu calor intenso. esa piel en arrugas que me sentía tan especial y único, que cobijó desde bebé, que me enseñó, que me preparó.

Espero que cuando llegue el fin de mi camino, pueda alcanzarte donde estés, y al despertar veré la luz de tu sonrisa y bellos ojos. Me quedan retos, enmendarme y servicios para merecerlo.

Hasta entonces, María Ofelia, hermosa mujer, sublime inefable mamá.

Mariposa K

I proclaimed you my wife in a phone call, it was a bit rushed, like a heatwave, but in the middle of November, I could afford to finger the future with your hands and that silver ring you wear, even though you had already told me not to. I believed, I proclaimed. The power of the voice, the power of thought. 
What happened in the next 24 hours, will remain in the privacy of the heavens inside a room.
I spare the long, tangled details, the music of dark tones, like those gothic and perreadoras songs you love, but two months later the dismal end has already materialized.
It hurts
Pain
Suffer
Cry
Staring at the sky as I drive, and a sad Beck song plays.
I think today of all the behaviors and mistakes that led from that high point of our intimacy to this immense ocean that today distances us and will not go away.
Because you told me enough, and that you don't want to have contact of any kind with me,
I became the bad guy in your story and our story.
Although I don't know why, maybe it's the planetary arrogance, that tells me that in March or April there maybe that unexpected miracle or blessing.
But I am adamant, today more than ever, I must work on my behavior, my mistakes, my particular way of ruining myself in relationships and I want, I decide, to be alone.
It hurts
Pain
Suffer
Cry
It's a road of ups and downs. I loved you like nobody else, and I drove me crazy for you, it's true. But as the good Jung says: "It is not possible to awaken to consciousness without pain. People are capable of doing anything, no matter how absurd, to avoid facing their own soul. No one becomes enlightened by fantasizing figures of light, but by making his darkness conscious."
I am very dark, maybe that's the real reason why my mother calls me black.

Oh, mom!!, that story is harder, but that will be for another time.