The one about The Fault in Our Stars

Among a infinite amount of burning luminaries, or most enchantingly referred to,  of stars

of lives

of deaths

of moments

I couldn't blink if I would want it to

I couldn't open my eyes wide enough either

The immenseness of the earthen truth was right before me

Why is one completely chained and bound to forever fall in love with  The Fault in Our Stars?

"We fall in love like we fall asleep, slowly, and then all of it at once"

Because it shows us the where the true beauty of life lies.

And you will never forget it.

And I will never forget it.

...."pain demands to be felt"

Status Quo Ante Bellum

When life around you stops, you grasp harder for air.

When a hurricane of events wraps you in, toss you into the sand and leaves you senseless, you grasp harder for air.

There, when you are dimly admiring the vacuum of your ceiling. Memories of the past smother your mind because your mind is unable to unlock the future. And because the real vacuum it’s the one your ideals are left. Nonetheless, you grasp harder for air.

Then a satirical and ironic, deeply rooted question surfaces “ I am afraid to live?”

And in a blurry windy moment. when you have exhausted your heart with excuses, you find the most sincere answer  “It’s the fall”.

It’s the state of mind in which positivism becomes irrealism.

We are afraid of realizing that the hurricane only tossed you with its tail, and the hurricane has a large, bulkier brother, and he is headed in your direction.

We are trying hard to grasp for air, but in a parallel sentiment, we are afraid of the storm in the horizon, and what it might do to us, and what it might become of us, and the underlying maleficent question “What if I fall?”

And your life stops.  

Life will never be ideal, only real.

Life will never stop. Only you stop.

Don't ever settle for comfortable.

Keep moving forward.

And grasp harder for air.

Lovely Eden

For you....

You make me feel.
I cannot touch the abstract beauty I lively live.
I’m glad to sense something lifesaving my heart from the freezing sea.
You make me see.
There’s no thicker blindfold than a love-fool's dream
There’s no better moment than to realize that for you I happily daydream.
You make me glee.
Every day you cuddle my life into spring
Every day you enchant my life into bliss.
You make beam.
I never thought a three-letter word could signify all the sweet divine
I never thought a steel-eyed man could present me with the warmest sunshine.

You sway my spirit,
you blush my feelings,
To me you are my Lovely Eden.

La Mentira

El psique siempre reconoce “el momento”, el exacto fragmento de tiempo en que algo cambia en el sistema. Cambios. Momentos. Y el único prerrequisito: reconocimiento.

Reconocimiento de aquella fracción de segundo en que la fe por otro se humano desapareció de la conciencia, huyo, dejo de existir, para nunca mas regresar.

Aunque la existencia de esa entidad es la perspectiva constructiva del humano, tal vez, nunca existió, tal vez fue una simple “construcción” del psique, una ilusión que tenia que morir en ese preciso fragmento de tiempo para poder sobrevivir. Aquellos “constructivistas” enlazados, destinados, conectados, unidos a definir este axioma como “cinismo”, siempre serán los lógicos, porque es lógico actuar por temor, horror, miedo de que la burbuja perfecta que han creado y llamado “mundo” se fracture, con el precioso y puntiagudo alfiler de la de verdad, y detallando el trasfondo, ¿Cuál es la verdad? , aguda tal como es, no existe la confianza en otro ser, solo la ilusión, de que existe esa entidad, sentimiento, conciencia, o razón de actuar en el ser. Es lo que mi ser llama: mentiras necesarias, necesarias, requeridas y precisas, para vivir dentro de la burbuja, para vivir la mentira.

Waiting For You

Nothing is as it should be.

Nothing will ever be as it should be.

And what is the “should” version of reality?

Had things ever been as they should?

No. Our ideal version of reality is nothing more than an illusion.

The definition of perfect could, can or will be applied to the real form of things.

The world will never be ideal nor perfect, only real.

I will open my eyes to reality, so I can stop suffering for a dream that will never come true, for a reality that will never be seen by my eyes.

 My life is just a dream. The rest will be twilight. How ungracious twilight the one I’m now breathing in. God help me, for I can’t do it alone, I cannot convert this twilight into my dream alone. Something is missing. I feel numb. What a magnificent gray area my life has become.

Oh hope, will you ever come back to me? Oh love, will you bring back the colours of the dream I’ve long to live for what it feels centuries? I shall wait for you. And that is all I should do. And to be a lover is all I should be. And to become yours is the candle that leads my way to find you, for  my version of life wont be  an illusion the day I shall come to meet your grace. So this is for you, my unknown love, I am waiting for you.

Senseless

Lover’s description

Heartache’s prescription

Endless towers, breathless hours

Let me see you in amazed, bewildered

Let me through…yourself

Years,

Weeks,

Days………time is countless

Love,

Aches,

Tears………..also countless

Can you…

Would you…

Could you…

Will you….give me one love in this continuous space and time?

                        

                          My eyes will be blind to it, but my hands will

                         Read it easily. Possible means everything.

The Unbearable Truth

Her heart stopped beating

Her soul stopped breathing

But I’m keen to wonder, did her heart really ever beat? Did her soul truly ever breath?

Did she actually live?

Lies lie protectively guarding a mountain of old well kept secrets. Secrets that are best not to revealed. Secrets that killed her. Really, truly killed her.

I must reckon life is full of secrets, but not one like this, not one like this.

Secret? What secret? She denied herself. She denied her truth.

She denied her life, she couldn’t bear to live it, so she denied it, she dreaded so terribly.

So she went on, denying.

She never knew, oh she never knew, the moment she denied it, was the moment she started to die. Her mind was unable to hold the horror of her secret.

It was a downcast.

How sad. It is sad. It was sad. If only she would have grown the strength, the power, then maybe she could have borne to live it; she could have loved to live it.

But in stead of unimaginable joy, she found death, lonely, cold, ungracious death.

I still pray for her. I still remember her.

I still hear the sound of my own voice, “Don’t”. How useless it was, she had made her choice, she decided, she chose.

I still hear the sound of her voice, “I can’t”. She probably couldn’t. But then again, all we are left is doubt, the most alarming ‘ what if’ I’ve ever had the misfortune to encounter.

Two souls found an inevitable death that night. Two souls died with her that night.

She would have been so beautiful. So small. So pure. Not anymore.

Her heart was beating.

Her soul was breathing.

But her eyes never got the blessing of being open.

Sad it is. Truly sad.