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.