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.

Sun hits

This month has been one of strong back-and-forth, pulled, and pushed. I won't say much. The beating of my heart faded by K.'s distance and then what my mother went through, have been meant to polish me with crisis and patience. What is love, what is the struggle? I've walked nights, felt the emptiness, been wrong, given up, and swallowed a tide of discouragement. Wishing that things were simple, were pleasant. But they are not. It's a thing of battle and living on the side of blue love, not being reciprocated nor her being available. So, I understand that I must not get attached, that there must be a sense away from the shores I know. 
And I would like this tribulation to be no more.
But I must travel far from the usual and begin to recompose myself, to silence those suicidal thoughts, that lethargy where I do not believe myself capable of something and with a lot of discouragement. 
And fight to trust, that imagining and hearing, are shields.
Why do I love you so much K?
I will say no more.
Only that I have so much to be thankful for because I have had favors and blessings.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
And I will continue.

Space ready

The lines of a spaceship are also lights that point a way between the limits of our humility, and the infinite form of the cosmos.

I think there is something wise in thinking that the religious figures that make up our creeds were perhaps also astronauts of the spirit who saw beyond this world, and brought us the truth, a truth that smells of a young spirit. 

The first night of this eleventh month has a lot of walking, under the sweet smell of wet grass, with whispers on wheels and bicycle horns. There is a lot of materialism and fear in what happens in power and money. 

For some reason, I sense that the white apron cults will be hard at work these weeks and that an alien narrative is being constructed. As the world prepares for the moment where the truth out there proclaims that we are not alone. 

It is my intuition where the paths of light intersect between aliens and gods, in religion and trials. What will come? What will we dance? I shall believe.

The gravity of feeling

I was a bad boy because I broke your heart and mistreated you a lot, and I'm still a bad boy because I've also been accused of manipulating, of being narcissistic, of using someone, of being dark, and apparently not loving anyone.

I swore I was going to be good to you but I was wrong, I couldn't keep up, but I hope you understand that I didn't mean to be rude, or burn the possibilities of your love, or tell you harsh phrases that played at abuse.

I confess that a long time ago I made a tape with the song Creep, and I wanted to send it to you with a bouquet of flowers. But I think that the right moment crossed with good sense, and it didn't happen. It would have been very sad if that dedicated idea had reached you. The truth is that since I was a teenager I don't really know how to conquer women, because for me they are an anxious mystery and also a desire not to be alone. My education is about selfishness and wanting to be loved. Therefore, do you understand that I have demands that don't start well? That's why my inexperience turns into frustration, and frustration into fear, and that fear into rudeness and apathy, and all of it into depression.

Yeah, I wasn't around and you're fucking special. I say it humming.

That's why I'm wrong, that's why I'm a piece of shit.

But I stop. 

This fall of bringing evil with words should not be a springboard of self-pity. I open my hands under the moon, and I tell you, yes I'm a bad boy. But also a good boy. 

Because there are sweet memories, because I surrendered to your heart, and you were a sincere encounter with heaven. Yes, I was in so deep, I was such a fool for you and the taste of your love.

I am true.

I come out of the shadows, I stand near the fire, and I admit that I have a testimony. I was close to you for several years because I loved you so much at first, but then I didn't know how to hold you with the gravity of this planet and allow us to grow. 

The color that then could dye us was yellow.

Then I lived blue.

Today I manifest red.

I faded to you, and I was able to enter into your desire for us to be immortal. And I believe we were. But the strange time came where we were to follow on separate lines.

I thought the world of us: vast and high, on wings of Icarus, and with marble pedestal.

Sweetheart, you were my first great love when I was twenty three, in a dream wrapped around your fingers.

Today I wish for your peace and your growth. We were a close breath, and that was creation so free.

Hugs took on us. Love new for our fate.