Where you are while I miss you?

I repeat it unnecessarily and in silence, you gave everything in a so small time slice that I don’t remember when it finished. You gave me since you saw to me and since I blushed when I knew that you were a part of me and a part of my body and of my time.

One assumes that you must be with me while I miss you, what so coarser and ironic utopia. Love you when no longer you are has been one of my favorite memories. You remember me to that coin that I found in my childhood and that I’d already spent when I still hadn’t been born.

To describe to you doesn’t have sense for my words, the point is that not describe you does have it for my amnesia. Creating your images doesn’t help to remind me that you are mine, only does.

Spin and spin as expired smoke from a cigarette in my mouth defines you as that which primarily scattered by the atmosphere immensity doesn’t have a different aim than the other that was made to be part of her; and it is thus as I knew you, as I loved you, as I kissed you, as I let you go.

eyes wide shut

the incongruity and imminent fatigue restrain to meto being able to write everything what my head wanted to thinkabout the last month that has affected so much to my beingand that it already went concluding todayduring a lightning trip of a dayand crossing the center of the countryto fulfill pending debts with the schooland with my pride.

I only can say that at night I will be back in the Cervantin cityand that somebody wait for me with gladly and happiness.

Souvenir of an Independence day

One o’clock in the morning, in my head I feel what I suppose is a hat, I imagine is bit because without turning up my head, my eyes can see its diffuse black horizon. Yes, I also notice that it is black or of some color that is resembled to that sky of today but without its alive white and silverplated spangles that says they are named stars. I hear music to the distance, there are 2 speakers of a meter of length placed at four chairs next to me; I think that from there comes out that music stunned by the incessant talking of the group of which say themselves inseparable friends and that 6 months ago they didn’t see themselves. My hand realizes that apparently supports a full glass of soda diluted with vodka, and I say vodka, for being the only drink that my hand would support, now shaking of chill, of the cold wind that my brave neck supports without pretexts. To my left, there are glasses thrown on the seat, seem to be alcohol; I believe that this one predominates here on any drinkable liquid.
I look downwards and the most probable action that has left my trousers thus is the unconscious spill of some drink and the destiny deposited it on the low parts of my body or the very small possibility can now be the desperate manifestation and as now, consequence of the rebellion of my bladder in its cause by the freedom. It is hour to stand up, , , no, I don’t think so, my legs say do not stand please. There is a black leathered sofa with white lines that is made for two people but I believe nobody wants to accompany it and except my legs.
Drunk woman in the ground to the right of that sofa catch the attention to me her strange position, trying to reach with her left foot a glass empty and squashed by some dancer debilitated I think, by this time stunible Mexican music that only the festive occasion calls to play and not the willing of the people here. I realize to my head that I’m in someday festive, I don’t remember which; I only remember that I miss you and this guy by my side tells me that I’m crying.

Running running and to not advance

To know that I don’t know how to feel in the total ignorance before a totality of events nonlived by my, has created a kind of collision and of non-advance in my beating thoughts which fly for not to fall and to lose themselves in the deepest of my veins, and my blinking says to me keep writing.

You better remember that still we need to much to get to be, and I can’t get to be if I don’t try. To be incontinent is the must nonviable option although it is the most probable in this party, that was generated by the force over the conscience, and the responsible beginning to this incredible and sad week that I begin it here. And who will finish in few hours, thanks to the solar calendar that 12 soaked grapes in its fermented wine were generated.

I feel lost although those who have lost something have been others. That immense sadness to lose something just makes me close my eyes and I’m not talking about to whom the doubt generates, but to that feeling of mutual incompatibility of the physical versus nonphysical, to name somehow to the soul.
I trey to imagine that moment and my imagination prevents me to create it although I felt it to the bottom of the throat. I believe that the background of all this isn’t what I feel nor think, but what felt that person and his hands giving him direction of those other people’s tears when they receive the news of the loss of the loved being. That feeling that goes to any place from the surge of the sea to the creak of the ice where doesn’t do more than a simple goodbye.

I can only remember that feeling before the happened time and that the other people’s suffering makes me remember. Tremor in my hands, lost glance and the lamp turned on by my side trying to listen what the non felt words want to say something to calm my lost and nomadic soul in your being, who no longer you are, and who no longer you will be.

I believe that you listen to me or at least you read to me, and I believe firmly in this that I think and my heart feels and sings and cries, cries incessantly and the shout prevents me to cry. Please, cry all you want so I can listen you.

Rest in peace.

little space for those who want to listen

since i havent written in this language i havent thought about the issues that i havent showed to those who wants to know about my real feelings that concern them.As my always parties partner in music stuff told me im pretty rocky in love issues i havent sailed trough the right moon direction following my favorite star and arriving to unknown highways like your heart and all the involved stuff that it means.I miss you and you dont know how i miss u. You belong to many fake experiences of mine and i dont remember in how many you were involved. Raise my heart and find all my life, i mean it, my silence tell you more than many crying tears in the middle of blinded walkings around my mouth.Im here without you, sunk in the silence here, wishing you will return to my eyes that saw you only 5 minutes of existence.Finally in everybody this is the same, i miss you your wake up in cold days and in happy nights. I dream everyday that i dont dream your absent. The not raining days are afecting me so much. Im growing following the clouds and following your smile.Please hear me, wherever you are, i hear your silence here and i hear your breathe while you are sleeping next to me. Please dont leave me dare.

Keeping the cigarette in my mouth

I think all this Matrix style design in my life has generated that i want to disconect me for a couple of hours of all reason and knowledge of my being. I pass to an post-incomprehensible period of my incomprehensions that i don’t know what to understand yet. It sounds a little incongruous, but i feel like that literally. An intense bombing of nonvital activity and that pledges to me with life in my inner being simultaneously and I’m not prepared for this yet.
Let us begin by my cigarette that I can’t forget it yet, since it is my inseparable companion in the grace and the misfortune, the happiness and the misfortune, the daily life and the misfortune. I believe that there is a “common” that I do not want to find out in all this and I do not believe that is the cigarette. I don’t see the coherence in all this philosophical cigarreter plan since entering in those subjects, they will not remove me from the accurate doubts at wich I have arrived.
What is worst? Do or receive the injustice? I believe that the most coherent answer is neither to commit it nor to undergo it, staying in nothing, that’s the worst, not really knowing that we are here for can do or receive something bad. To believe that we are here in addition and being one more in the nothing thanks to nothing. Repetition of words, acts, of feelings and no-feelings, that’s the worst, to not feel, staying with the pushing that receives eachone from the life, if it has brought us here.
When thinking that you you arent doing nothing here, causes that I generate a bag of conflicting feelings and they make me consider myself since nobody said to me what to do here, neither what to think nor how to do it, i must do all that stuff. Just in me, it is left giving me a reason to take advantage of this movement of my hands and the glance that i have when i don’t look at the supposed destiny.
I beliee that not missing somebody is worse than to suffer with its absence. I would like to know how to sing for being able to sing you something, for that reason I write to you although I know it will never arrive to you, thanks to your never knowledgement of my astonishment, not for your absence, but by your never appearance.
By all this I shelter to me in my accompanying cigarrette of nonexistent battles and long and pretentious writings, in wich I want to get to shape when I don’t have something to shape in the life.

I start where i think all is done.

Rather than spend my time for talking about my life in these times, I do talk about how my life will be tomorrow. Waiting a couple of educative tests that will throw numbers to my registration history, I just hope all this ends soon.
My week is finishing and at the same time I start this book, that it isn’t yet, but will become the day when someone choose me as the main publisher of my own publishing house (encouraging sarcasm) and then start to remember who am I and in who I will become.
A poor young student or an attempt of being, that simply try to live as a sentimental-anonymous would say, to live following his pleasure and his desire. Am I thinking in the future? Of course not, the future controles me, rules me, move my legs and hands for happen what the destiny predicted, and hoped that I did, me, young student and candidate to be.
Maybe, you are the most important in this moment while you have the decision to close this window and for not to lost the time in reading me behing your multicoloured screen. Thank to you, on the contrary that have dedicated to endeavour of giving me a chance, or giving it to my hands that are the ones that finally control what my mind wants to say.
I begin by the end since finally I dare to make public my thought and my no-thoughts that I will leave this way. A nail removes another nail and a blog took to another blog to born, and that’s the way my blog borns. Ja.