6 ene. 2010

Pensamientos reciclados

Escritos sueltos que encontré por ahí, independientes entre sí, de hace un par de años. Es bonito recordar y observar los cambios. *

and as i look into my heart, i can see what others cant: desert storm, unheard but heartfealt tantrum, seen and lived by no one but the still and quiet sands...

*

you left a pebble in my throat
i swallowed, it went to my heart
you squeezed my skin
and left a mark
even if my memory was glass
my body would remember

*

there’s an heavy emptiness carved out of my skin
the weight of negative space is more notorious
so much denser than air
like dark shadow that fills a white container
and no one else can see, like the rainbows when
there is no rain
or the stars in the day
there's a human-shaped hole in the place where your body should be.

*

i fell in love with a beautiful stranger
not so strange anymore
you were my first EVERYTHING
and i learned to SEE everything
not as it is but as it appears to be...and i like that world much better.

*
La cascada
y ahí encontre un tesoro que no se podia contar
las joyas en contraste se empezaban a opacar
y la luz, aunque escondida, no dejaba de brillar....

*

peace... tranquility.. there is something humbling about space... feeling the trembling of a leaf.. the breathing of every being..... looking out and being shocked that your small eyes capture everything.... wandering from who knows where to places you never knew you could get, with wet grass and moss between and betwix and beyond.... and all the lands are beyond because you can hardly see the horizon.... and you know no one and remember no one and want no one but your tiny chest going up and down as you breathe.... and you close your eyes and you see no difference because the image is still in your head, the image of rolling hills and thin, open air.... you feel like a speck interrupting the harmony, like dust in a plain, like sand... and then you feel more important than rain, more significant than the sun, worth more than the mountain itself, because you can see, you can appreciate, you are not chewing blissfully on grass but admiring...and you feel the whole earth trembling on its axis and beating continually, pulsating with life, filled, if not only, with peace and tranquility....

*

Inspiration comes from pain... from looking at the same stories in your past, repeating themselves. Pain comes from looking at the glass and seeing nothing, no water, not even a half empty glass. All the water is born from your eyes who sprinkle their invisible promises in the solid air. I wish I could tell you exactly how I feel. Relying on language to spread emotion to your face. A spinning orb in an abyss that gently rotates on. That is my story. Pain helps me rid myself of other pain. Deeper pain. Your smile helps me forget the emptiness of this overflowing world. Together we will all float on. But we are millions of particles and universes away. How to feel proximity with that which is my heart? Writing words on silver screens and feeling special because there lies hidden meaning... not knowing how to feel when you are finished or how your lies embelished come accross. Wondering what is the true you. Wondering if there is a true you. Losing your memories like sand in the wind. Sobbing like a desert storm that comes suddenly on dry land. The frustration of cutting your own skin..... not knowing whether to care or to not. I live in a world of oxymorons and contradictions where everything is relative and nothing is truly important. Which would be fine if there wasn't another world inside me, shaking the jail cell bars.

*

im having amnesia and dejavu at the same time...i think i've forgotten this already

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