Almost Christmas. Almost midnight. Almost by the sea. Almost the perfect love.
Almost is never enough.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Snapshot of a wasted love.
Almost Christmas. Almost midnight. Almost by the sea. Almost the perfect love.
Almost is never enough.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
The knife
You put it straight into my heart. And you smile, like nothing happened.
You, the one who made me promise not to use it on me. You, the one who told me it will be alright. You, the one who promised to make me smile, to hug me, to kiss me. You, the one who promise to always care.
And you twisted it, and watched my eyes fill with blood, saw the blood coming out, and just laughed.
And you saw me crying, you saw me dying, and just kindly explained that the wound is not that deep and I will probably survive.
Not that you would care if I would.
But just in case.
You could at least take out the f***ing knife. It's mine! Mine! I gave it to to you to keep it safe. Well, what better place than straight into my heart?!
You took everything away from me. EVERYTHING! Just give me my fucking knife back!
God, how can it be so easy for you?! How can you stab someone with so much patience, and pretend it's for their own good?! How DARE YOU to decide that?!
I wish you'll feel my pain. I wish you'll feel your blood out of your veins, the ground running away from the soles of your feet, your heart freezing instantly. Just for one day. Just for once.
I thought noone deserves that. I was wrong. You do.
You, the one who made me promise not to use it on me. You, the one who told me it will be alright. You, the one who promised to make me smile, to hug me, to kiss me. You, the one who promise to always care.
And you twisted it, and watched my eyes fill with blood, saw the blood coming out, and just laughed.
And you saw me crying, you saw me dying, and just kindly explained that the wound is not that deep and I will probably survive.
Not that you would care if I would.
But just in case.
You could at least take out the f***ing knife. It's mine! Mine! I gave it to to you to keep it safe. Well, what better place than straight into my heart?!
You took everything away from me. EVERYTHING! Just give me my fucking knife back!
God, how can it be so easy for you?! How can you stab someone with so much patience, and pretend it's for their own good?! How DARE YOU to decide that?!
I wish you'll feel my pain. I wish you'll feel your blood out of your veins, the ground running away from the soles of your feet, your heart freezing instantly. Just for one day. Just for once.
I thought noone deserves that. I was wrong. You do.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Quote of the day
"Excuse me, please, one more drink
Could you make it strong cause I don’t need to think"
[ from "Grace is Gone" by Dave Matthews]
One day, I'll get these lines tattooed on my back. A silent reminder. A beautiful surrender. A quiet defeat. The quintessence of failure.
Some people need the alcohol to think. Some need it to stop thinking. Just different ways of connecting with the inner self and/or the outer world. Don't know which one is the "stop thinking" one ...
Could you make it strong cause I don’t need to think"
[ from "Grace is Gone" by Dave Matthews]
One day, I'll get these lines tattooed on my back. A silent reminder. A beautiful surrender. A quiet defeat. The quintessence of failure.
Some people need the alcohol to think. Some need it to stop thinking. Just different ways of connecting with the inner self and/or the outer world. Don't know which one is the "stop thinking" one ...
Monday, June 1, 2009
Dreams are for dreamers ...
I could look at your pictures for hours. And smile ... smile continuously, with an absent mind. It feels so good, and so right. I look at your pictures and I see so much of you through the colored pixels. I can almost feel your hands on my back, your skin under my fingers, your short hair, the rough beard ... but most of all, your eyes ... I can see your eyes smiling together with your lips and I feel tears in my eyes. You are incredible - you seem the essence of what I have been looking for ... or what I've given up looking for way to soon. You seem unreal. If there will be no marks on my skin, I would think you are just a picture that my imagination draws. You make me dream. And laugh, and scream, and smile, and cry, and feel, and float above the Earth where I thought people like you do not exist for me. Your beautiful, colorful world that covers the planet with smiles and joy makes me cry in my little corner of loneliness. I
am amazed. I am truly and deeply and totally amazed that you exist. And it's not an image ... it's real. It's not a game of my imagination - it's just real.
I look at you and I cannot understand where did I lose myself? In what moment of my life I lost my innocence? When did I lose the colours and covered everything with grey? Where is my smile and where's my craziness? Why do I need to make everything so complicated? Why can't I see the beauty of life in its every little moment? How could I lose that, that only thing I liked in me ... I look at your pictures and wish I'd be there, close to you, in each one of them. I crave for that normality, I crave for a life with you. I am jealous for every smile I lost, for every moment I missed ... I wish you'd know, just for a minute, how truly grateful I am for having you in my life. And even if my pride and stupid ego will never admit you were right about the present and the future - you'll always know it. And you'll always have me, the genuine and innocent and strong and fragile me. Yours, until the end of dreams.
And then I woke up. Indeed, you were just a picture of my imagination.
Reality bites. Dreams are lost. You are gone. I am frozen. Floating is legend. Love was bitter. Unreal. Gray. Colours have faded away from the fake fabric.
The world is really grey. And there are no you's for me. There are no you's for anybody but yourselves.
am amazed. I am truly and deeply and totally amazed that you exist. And it's not an image ... it's real. It's not a game of my imagination - it's just real.
I look at you and I cannot understand where did I lose myself? In what moment of my life I lost my innocence? When did I lose the colours and covered everything with grey? Where is my smile and where's my craziness? Why do I need to make everything so complicated? Why can't I see the beauty of life in its every little moment? How could I lose that, that only thing I liked in me ... I look at your pictures and wish I'd be there, close to you, in each one of them. I crave for that normality, I crave for a life with you. I am jealous for every smile I lost, for every moment I missed ... I wish you'd know, just for a minute, how truly grateful I am for having you in my life. And even if my pride and stupid ego will never admit you were right about the present and the future - you'll always know it. And you'll always have me, the genuine and innocent and strong and fragile me. Yours, until the end of dreams.
And then I woke up. Indeed, you were just a picture of my imagination.
Reality bites. Dreams are lost. You are gone. I am frozen. Floating is legend. Love was bitter. Unreal. Gray. Colours have faded away from the fake fabric.
The world is really grey. And there are no you's for me. There are no you's for anybody but yourselves.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Forgive and/or forget
A long long long time ago, while I was still a young kid with big dreams and silly expectations, in a long night after a lot of tears I've promised I've never be sad on my birthday again. Never. I promised that no matter how bad my life will turn, or how sad the moments of early February will be, I will be happy on my birthday, and I will celebrate as such the miracle of being a human being. Today I've broken that promise. Today my birthday was forgotten and ignored. Today I got that cried and shouted and begging "Why?" question answered. Today I lost another beautiful part of my life. I'm getting older.
It's been a long day. Another wasted day, like many others before, and like many others will follow. Another day of miserable compromise, another day of false anger, fake smiles and sad stories. Another day of lost battles and tired moments. Another day of loneliness. A day for dry tears and desperate thoughts. A day to die for. Or in? Or after? Dunno ...
I'm still alive ... and so are my sadness, and my tears, and my shadows, and my feelings. I wish I was dead. Or they were dead. Or life would be defined as a boring sequence of quiet moments. Then life would be dead. And maybe then I can feel alive again.
I wake up in the morning and I watch outside my window. I am cold, I am lonely, I am crying. What is the point? Why am I doing this? What is that little demon in my head, my heart, my soul, that demon that does not allow me to be free? That demon that makes me responsible for the state of the world, the global warming, and the welbeing of bees and flies?!
I sometimes think it's ego ... the need for people to not live without me. Sometimes I think it's tiredness ... a certain need for peace and tranquility that can only be given by accepting your faith. Sometimes I think happiness is overrated, and fighting (for) it just another challenge that we all need to face from time to time.
I've seen too many tears today. Too many for a happy birthday, a happy hour, or happy times. I have absorbed too much pain, and I've generated even more. I have seen too much sadness, most of it because of me. I am responsible for too many stolen dreams, broken hearts, and desperate moments.
Nobody forgets.Some forgive.Some walk away.Some turn the other cheek.Some give second chances. I cry.
To all those that I hurt, I'm truly sorry. I know what pain can mean, I know how unbearable it can be in the darkness of a lonely night. To all of you, I'm asking for forgiveness. Like the coward I am, I will tell you I didn't mean to hurt you. But that is no excuse, that is just pure and simple weakness, lack of responsibility, and fear. Fear of the same pain I have inflicted on you.
It's a cold night. It's gonna be a cold day. Another gray day with wasted time, and feelings, with wet napkins and tired eyes. Just another day. At least, the other birthday will take another year.
Happy after-birthday, Dorothy.
It's been a long day. Another wasted day, like many others before, and like many others will follow. Another day of miserable compromise, another day of false anger, fake smiles and sad stories. Another day of lost battles and tired moments. Another day of loneliness. A day for dry tears and desperate thoughts. A day to die for. Or in? Or after? Dunno ...
I'm still alive ... and so are my sadness, and my tears, and my shadows, and my feelings. I wish I was dead. Or they were dead. Or life would be defined as a boring sequence of quiet moments. Then life would be dead. And maybe then I can feel alive again.
I wake up in the morning and I watch outside my window. I am cold, I am lonely, I am crying. What is the point? Why am I doing this? What is that little demon in my head, my heart, my soul, that demon that does not allow me to be free? That demon that makes me responsible for the state of the world, the global warming, and the welbeing of bees and flies?!
I sometimes think it's ego ... the need for people to not live without me. Sometimes I think it's tiredness ... a certain need for peace and tranquility that can only be given by accepting your faith. Sometimes I think happiness is overrated, and fighting (for) it just another challenge that we all need to face from time to time.
I've seen too many tears today. Too many for a happy birthday, a happy hour, or happy times. I have absorbed too much pain, and I've generated even more. I have seen too much sadness, most of it because of me. I am responsible for too many stolen dreams, broken hearts, and desperate moments.
Nobody forgets.Some forgive.Some walk away.Some turn the other cheek.Some give second chances. I cry.
To all those that I hurt, I'm truly sorry. I know what pain can mean, I know how unbearable it can be in the darkness of a lonely night. To all of you, I'm asking for forgiveness. Like the coward I am, I will tell you I didn't mean to hurt you. But that is no excuse, that is just pure and simple weakness, lack of responsibility, and fear. Fear of the same pain I have inflicted on you.
It's a cold night. It's gonna be a cold day. Another gray day with wasted time, and feelings, with wet napkins and tired eyes. Just another day. At least, the other birthday will take another year.
Happy after-birthday, Dorothy.
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