Chimera.

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   I would tell you that I never wanted to associate this song with you; perhaps I wanted at least that to be mine, fully, unconditionally. I would tell you that I am filled with guilt and disappointment; perhaps that is what I should feel. I would tell you that I am disgusted of your eyes, your voice and your way of treating things. I would tell you all these lies, I would keep you away from me. I would laugh on the idea that it does not worry me; I would laugh on your face and tell you that I do not care. Sometimes it seems so easy to lie but these mentioned above, it’s impossible to say. Harper Lee says that you never understand a person until you climb into his skin and walk around in it. I do not contradict to this theory but walking on her skin; I cannot do. I tried and I failed when I realized that I cannot feed you with the lies I mentioned at the beginning.
     It was a shattering morning until I heard her peaceful voice. The night before, I saw her everywhere. She was entering that pub’s door at every turn of my eye. She had her hair down and then up, she wore black and at some point she wore red. She wore all colours and had all kind of expressions. She walked in every time a woman walked in. At four o’clock in the morning the alcohol’s effect was gone. That door opened again but she wasn’t the one stepping in. I saw a brunette woman, wearing a bright red lipstick and a slim fit pair of trousers. It was then when I realized that she’d never come. I smiled hypocritically and opened my eyes. It was just a nightmare. I was staring at her sleeping next to me and after a few minutes she opened slightly her eyes smiling too. She was biting her lower lip while I was touching her below her waist. How could I lie? She has become a bitter-sweet addiction; a necessary evil.

Disclosure.

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    She was seeing through me. That she never knew; I never admitted that she had conquered me. I feared that she would consider me such a fragile work of art. I did consider myself a peculiar person. “You are a rare species, your mind is always locked, unknown, twisted”, she said. I was gazing her temptingly. I took a deep breath desiring to complain on her statement. In a split of a second I exhaled back as if I never meant to say a word. In that moment I realized she was right.

     My silence is a blasphemy. I neglected her, offered her less than she ever offered me; I haven’t showed her the love that weights my heart. I have a nod in my neck that makes it hard to breath. Perhaps it is my way of regretting. I do care for her, I do love her in an inexplicable way. I am tormented by her dreams, her wishes, her unrealistic world. At the beginning, that’s what made me fall for her. Her way of laughing without boundaries, her craziness and her believing in warm-hearted people. She spread a light over my darkest nights.
     On a Sunday night I was all alone. She was gone. I didn’t understand why, I still don’t. ”I am tired of fighting your darkness”, she said. I took it as if she didn’t care. I let my ego ravish my soul. It pained me but it was easier than understanding her. Days later, she came back but I fear I might not be able to keep her close to my heart. She runs freely and I can’t take too much freedom.

Over-analyzing.

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     When you fell asleep I tried to guess your dreams. I was staring at you impatiently because I was waiting for a gesture of yours; a movement with your right hand, a twist of your lips, even a hard breath. I wanted to see something that could betray your inner thoughts. My hand was moving over yours, close to your cheek and my lips were kissing your shoulder . At that sweet moment which many of you might call I wondered what I felt. The truth is that I couldn’t answer my question. I thought: ” What if we are more animalistic than we thought? What if we are rippers of inocent souls or failures of Adam and Eve?” A certain pesimism conquered me and more than that; sadness. I began to underestimate my abilities, the future and even the past but worse of all, I was confused about my decisions. I stood still for a while, without moving a cell and repeated to myself the last four words. What if this is the time I will regret? What if everything turns into a huge failure and I will be miserable? Those “ifs” are putting me into a judge court every night and there is nobody there to defend me. Around me there are different versions of myself, each and every one of them blaming me for a mistake.
He moved his body a little bit further from me, enough to kill my noisy thoughts and bring me back to that moment.
I had to sleep because that was the only thing that I could to at that moment. What if I tried to depress myself even more? It would have been such a futile thing. I wished for a dream that won’t be my guillotine and so I had…

Exasperation.

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     A simple gesture of tenderness, that was what I needed. More than that, I think I needed someone’s gesture of tenderness; but I can do nothing but deny my thoughts. It was the hardest but simplest thing that I could do for now. I feel suffocated by crowds and desperate for silence. My soul has become a controversial place and the demons that once used to ponder around my darkest corners, are hidden behind the depression that torments me.

     The man with the viridian eyes has become a necessary variable on my life equation. There is one thing I am not certain of; whether I want to solve it or not. Perhaps the procedure of solving it scares me. A brunette man once told me that love hurts and in the end I will see a soul being tortured. I would not believe his words if I didn’t see his own soul being tortured a few months after he confessed these words to me. I remember his eyes in tears both times. I wanted to become the solution to his equation and get him out of his misery. Perhaps my intentions changed in time and I forgot what I wanted in the first place. The night I counted fifty stars in the sky in his favor, we thought we wouldn’t need anything else in the world. We were enough for each other.
     Somehow I see part of the past repeating itself. I feel attached to those viridian eyes and even if my heart implores my mind to trust him completely, I cannot. Perhaps that shows how messed up I am and affected by the past.

Viridis.

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There are nights we all desire more than a simple hug or a gesture of tenderness. We need a fragrance that can make us choke of its’ powerful properties. That kind of fragrance I had every night in my arms as the sun was hiding behind the navy clouds. Every time he touched my skin with his baldly lips, I felt his need of affection. I always have an image of his eyes in my mind; the way he laughs is melting my bones. His riddles are gently visible while his eyes are miraculously twisting of amusement. His lips are the last ones to show the great excitement that unfolds a depressive happiness.

     I am used to falling asleep after him so I have the privilege to watch over him while his subconscious unravels his deepest fears or desires. His arm is wrapped around me and I am stupidly smiling while his heart is beating either slower or faster than usual. That moment I felt a great pain filling my lungs and conquering my soul.
I am haunted once again by the ghosts of my past and their countenance reminds me of a brunette man. No matter how hard I tried to breath out every concern that tortured my heart, it was futile.
     Tonight the darkness is silent and catastrophic for my mental health. The wind has stopped fizzling and the air I am inhaling is burning my insides. I feel every suffocating emotion submerging me and his absence keeps my demons alive. I shall fall into deep sleep now. All I need to see is the dazzling sun to give me hope.

Vanity.

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     A fearful person. That is the perfect word to characterize him. The man wearing the viridian mask was always silent while his thoughts could torment any demon in hell. He thought that words have no meaning when you can conquer the world with your actions. Even if deep down in my soul I believed in his theories, I think of him as truly mistaken.
The sky is cloudy and the black widow surprises me with her serendipity and negligence of the revengeful heavens. The city lights are blurry, reflecting as murderous shadows on the glassy windows. The autumn leaves seem all blackish now, same pattern and nuance. The pine trees are moody because their children are gone and the dirty water of the rain has sickened them. Somehow, those pines trees can resemble to the viridian man. His seedy provision has the same effect on my disposition. Even if it is a fact well known, I cannot accept it. I wish his branches could expand more on my thoughtful mind and answer to my pitiful questions. I am being conquered and pestered by every possible word that can come out of his mouth.
The walls around me are whitish and the furniture seems nothing like luxury. The mattress has no sheets on it and the floor is cold. The window is half opened. I can see the wildness of the human souls pondering on the streets; some indecisive, others lighthearted.
The viridian man was still wearing his impersonal mask. His lips won’t curve into a smile and his eyes won’t show any annoyance. Some may say that hiding what’s torturing you is the only armor that can protect you from the untamed world. I might agree but in the viridian man’s case I fear he excesses the use of this lethal drug.

Pain & Happiness as a life compass.

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Frida Kahlo

Frida Kahlo

   There is a chance when you are born that you will know only happiness in your life. But that, despite the fact that is a simple chance, that is the deepest wish of a caring parent. Many of us haven’t known caring parents or others had the misfortune of paying their parents’ mistakes. Either way, the chance to know only happiness in your life is ‘one in an infinite’ , if infinity was countable, but still impossible. Considering an infinity bigger than other, we could say that the chance of complete, life-time happiness is considerably small or just non-existent.

     Growing up, learning to walk and speak, we realized that we loved those who loved us and granted our most profound wishes. I have not heard of a child in this world loving the evil or someone who hurts him or her. But a book stays still as the reader grows, becomes wiser or stupider. But that doesn’t matter because we are not books, we are the stories that color every page. That’s why we grow, our internal cosmos expands, travels on unknown lands, fighting, wishing, hoping, laughing and hurting.
     Is it always going to be like this? Yes, gentlemen. Always. Because as you know, when you first met love, when you first got into bed with it, when you first cried of love and disappointment, that wasn’t your choice. You chose a good evil. How is that possible? It is gentlemen. Growing older we realize that despite happiness, we bring upon ourselves pain, or life does so, but still, we cannot always fall for what is meant to do good.
     Somehow my thoughts ran to my chemistry classes. My professor always pointed out that the opposites attract but as you may have seen in your own lives, that is not a standard. We are usually deeply attracted to those who can reveal our true selves, the ones who dare living the way we don’t. Am I right? Think of it. The truth is though that we are much more alike than we admit. It’s just that the other person has the courage to do it or show it, as you have the courage to do or feel things, which for someone else, your partner, may be restricted or inconceivable to make it public knowledge.
     In this game of magnetic attractions, both parties win and lose. That’s the irony gentlemen. We chase the ultimate happiness, the one and only soul-mate, hoping that we won’t get hurt. What if we didn’t? Have you thought of that? What if it was that easy? What if the person you firstly fall in love with, feels the same way about you, no complications and no remorse? Do you think that there comes the ”happily ever after”? And if so, what then?
     I’ve got one fear, the deepest one and perhaps it is time to let you know it; I fear the day I will leave this world I will feel regrets because some day in my life I felt boredom, I wasn’t consumed. I wish that day never comes.
     There is a chance when you are born that you will know only pain in your life. But that, despite the fact that is a simple chance, that is the deepest fear of a caring parent. Growing up, we make our own fate based on the fears we overcome and at the end of the road, there is only one thing we should be saying: ” I lived and had it all. Misfortune, pain, happiness, pride and love. Now I shall have more of it in another life. ”

Reflections of a broken heart.

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The lights faded away in the darkness that the moon preserved by hiding behind the navy clouds. The driver was shady, filled with some kind of anxiety or distress that I avoided to ask about. Perhaps the answer would not serve my appetite so I preferred my own exigent thoughts. The moments of happiness that I felt were less than any other emotion that dominated in my soul. But don’t take me wrong gentlemen, I was not unhappy or anxious like him. On the contrary, I felt ecstatically good. The road continued its’ curvy way. Every now and then it filled me with fear but that was too unimportant to even bother concentrating on it. The blurry thoughts stopped while encountering a specific face which pondered through me like a hurricane. Catastrophic or not, I had him in my mind once again, feeling the same sweet disturbance as always. And then, there was the other one, a she wolf. What did she want? Why again? Our conversation stressed me. I did not know whether she meant good or evil. Then the night became lighter as the moon showed her darling shadow and I was back on my reality. The driver’s hand hugged my knee while his lips were imploring for one more kiss. I would not be rude. Eventually I had to move on even if I didn’t want to, because every kiss I served him was too unrealistic for that cruel reality I got myself into.
I wonder what tonight will bring upon me. The cold whether hurts me and the moon is once again hidden. All I can see is a reflection of my insecure lying self which wishes to see those feverish eyes that misses.

Revenge upon ourselves, not a solution.

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     There was no warmth anymore. There was only fire, the kind of burning and revengeful fire, and I wondered whether life wanted to say something to me or it was just time to stop playing with it. The second theory begs for approval, first in line in my mind. You see; sometimes people tend to make the worse out of a situation and we become revengeful with ourselves for someone else’s mistakes because we think we deserve it or just because we lost something that used to make us better humans. Perhaps that is what I am doing now. I have made consciously the worst of decisions and let people in my life make it more complicated. Have I become feverishly nonsensical? They say that when you wear an armour or a mask you should be careful not to lose yourself in it. Now I know they’re right.
It’s just ( and yes, “just”, because any other word would be unfit and too sophisticated for my current mentality) messy how people knock the door of your heart after leaving without saying a simple reason, possibly expecting you to open your arms and welcome them back warmly. You cannot do that even if it is what you desire most. Do not misunderstand me. I am in favour of second chances, sometimes maybe thirds , but no more. So perhaps that knock on my door disturbed my inner peace, if there was any lately, which I would doubt but still, I thought I had it all under control, I had all emotions turned off, or at least the parts that I wanted to forget for a while.
Obviously gentlemen my theories turned against me and the armour I equipped myself with became flesh of my own flesh. Isn’t it funny how life rolls gentlemen? Or it is not funny at all and the disturbance I feel makes every normal emotion that I should be feeling worthless of living inside me…
P.S. Or maybe I’m “a Bukowski” and there is nothing to be done but live in the sweetness of addictions.

New Perspective.

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   ”Some infinities are bigger than other infinities.” – The Fault in our Stars

     That’s what impressed me today. That is what I will remember from the 7th of September. That and the night’s breeze. The empty streets. The moon and the stars. No soul would bother the noisy silence. I walked alone home and I felt a particular kind of fear pondering in my veins. There was no fear of darkness. I was scared of the world, the people who wondered freely and arrogantly on the sidewalks. I know I must not look back. That was the arcanum.
     As I was approaching the entrance of my apartment I felt the fear fading away. However, something else happened. Surprisingly, my emotional state changed and the burden would not get away from my heart. This time though, it was pain. It may sound surprising but I am relieved for having my pain back. I do not know if I should worry for my non-expected happiness for a bitter sentiment, but I must admit, it gives me a purpose. I can feel again the gap in my soul and now I know, better than ever, that I should find a way to fulfill it again. Perhaps that was it! That’s what I needed. A new purpose.
     Now I am thinking; maybe that is what we all need and that also answers a question which many of us have been asking the universe. Why life should have ups and downs? Is it suffering and struggling necessary for the human kind?
     There is a writer I deeply admire who claims that humans are the most unhappy animals. When I first read that phrase I did not give it much thought. He was right though.
      So I have to deliberate on that even if you don’t want to hear it. We need bitterness and obstacles in order to achieve greatness. We might be the most unhappy of all animals but except that, as the same writer claims, the human kind has the ability to create majestic and unimaginably things. We just need a purpose. 
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Dizziness.

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    We live in fear of admitting everything that ponders in our hearts. I gave my all to you and I am still wondering if my current denial comes as a consequence to all the drama we had. I find misinterpretations walking back and forward in my mind. An inner voice is still whispering words of love or pain. I cannot distinguish what dominates in me, whether I am free or locked in my own desperation. The nights of September have brought upon me a new sentimental crisis. It feels like a dizziness. I see my soul on its’ knees praying and I am wondering: for what? Am I praying for more consuming love or it’s just an immense desire for freedom?

     I live in fear because my dreams stopped challenging me. Everything is blurred and I blame myself for that. I am responsible for suffocating my heart. It has been long since nobody conquered me. I have always been emotionally occupied and it feels exhausting. Even now that I am not in love with someone, my soul is still chained. Do I need someone to break the chains? I wish I could do it myself.
     The insanity of these long nights have created a vacuum, a dark space between the past and the present. I do not want to tickle my heart’s chords, I want them to be left in piece, untouched. There is a battle taking place inside me but I cannot see the two parties fighting or the results of the war. No matter how hard I try to understand what is going on inside me I see nothing. In vain I struggle to control my demons. I will let them defeat each other. There is no other way.

“La vérité, l’âpre vérité” = The truth, the harsh truth.

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 There is nothing I can write on this sheet and make it sound good once you read it out loud. I am stuck once again into a situation I cannot find the exit door. 

     When everything fell apart I needed to forget the world existed. The harsh truth is that I lost my path through life. Unfortunately I am still on that road; the one I cannot escape. There were days I thought I had it all right, I thought I knew where I was going; but I don’t. 
     A few days before ‘moving on’….
 – The infatuation of his unspoken words cracked the dry surface of my heart. If he had the courage to break me into millions of pieces with his words, I would not feel so blindfolded. Some may claim this is a good thing. Do I agree?
If I knew, if only I had some knowledge of his unspoken thoughts… But perhaps I don’t want to know. That seems to be the naked truth. My sooth was cleared of clothing or decorations. I do have a foolish interpretation of his silence in my mind which haunts me like a black widowed crow. Have I mentioned that I have a special adoration for crows?
I assume you will find my declaration irritatingly nonsensical. Can I be excused for loving the soothing that strangulates my lungs? Certain things cannot be excused so perhaps I am not forgiven. I have betrayed my universe and its’ sweet, agonising revenge is more than accepted. It took away my oxygen and tragically I do not mind. I can live without it.
That certain touch of tenderness that filled my dreams is gone. The exasperation of waiting to see him is gone too. Everything has drifted away. Do you find me depressing? Because I already do find me so.
I should let you know that I am not. There is a new kind of happiness running through my veins. I have made piece with my own desperation. I have made piece with myself and that is how everything flows willingly into another direction. I opened my eyes and the darkness was gone. I could see the stars telling me everything is going to be just fine.
All I had to do is admit to myself the harsh truth; that everything was over and I had to move on. –
 
I did it. I moved on but I cannot attach emotionally to anyone. Or almost anyone. Now I am just wondering what I need. You see…
     There are times you flip the coin without wishing for any outcome. I saw it spinning and my mind could not decide whether it wished for heads or tails. I wanted something different, a thing that I could not obtain. 

     It was three o’ clock in the morning when he asked me that question. ”What is that you need most at this point in your life?”. I felt a knife twisting my insides but I liked it. ”Love”. My answer was sincere and immediate. 
     That night I wanted more than I could phrase out loud. For a brief moment I wanted him but I erased the thought pretty quickly. You would have done it too if you were in my place. 
So perhaps I could move on with the wrong person. I wish I knew who is the right one. 
I shall wait. 

Craving for Love.

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Let’s be honest people! You love Love! Everyone adores a little unhappy love story with a happy ending. We complain, oh yes, we could die complaining about how Love makes our lives miserable, painful or (at some point) amazingly interesting. At the end of the road it doesn’t matter. When your route is over, at that moment when you have to point yourself into a different direction just because your Love had expired, there it is where you will realize that all you can do is fall in Love again. Yes, yes my dear Human, that is what you crave; Love. Even if you don’t want to admit it, you desire drama and epic storytelling even if you put at risk your weakened heart. 
     I never thought I would make such a confession. Actually, I never believed all those cruel heart-breakers who anticipated Love differently than I did. Perhaps they saw things more rationally. I couldn’t. Would you? Is it Love rational? 
     I would be sinning if I’d reject my own theories so I won’t. I will speak both logically and sentimentally. On the one hand, as you may have seen, people cannot live without drama and day-by-day struggling. On the other hand, the universe cannot exist without the romantic constellations. So there it is the explanation. Humans cannot survive in a world where Love comes without struggling and the universe is unable to create something of such greatness easily. The knot is done. All generations are pulled into this labyrinth, craving for Love. Roll the dice, get a player, build some houses, own some places, roll the dice again and take some credit for beginning again. 

A ponder on a human soul.

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You asked me where have I gone. I answered ”here”. But my voice was silent. I was mute, incapable to scream loudly where I am. But I’m here. You don’t know this because you’re blind. You cannot see me through your majestic shades and I fear there is nothing to be done anymore. The volume of my voice cannot increase anymore. My heart beats are too loud. But nobody can hear them. Neither you. Your faces are masked. You wear a mask of ego. The neighbour wears a mask of money. I wear a mask of pain. My friend wears a mask of nothingness. So that’s it. We are all wearing masks, covering our inner selves, imploring for someone to break them without giving our permission. Don’t you think that’s too much to ask for from another human being? Who is he to shave away my pain? Who am I to fight his ego?
We do not bother ourselves. We try nothing and we accomplish nothing. We starve ourselves and then we’re fed so we don’t die. Isn’t it ironic? We starve ourselves from truth and we’re fed with big fat lies. In the morning we complain about our situation and at night we hope for the best tomorrows. But we do nothing. We breath in polluted air and exhale some more garbage to the world. We become an intoxication for our own kind. We are drugged by other human beings; knowing that they can either be our paradise or our inferno. I suppose the next rhetoric question I should be asking is whether that’s a good or a bad thing, but I am not. I am sure you are already asking yourself that or something similar. Aren’t you?
If you are not, maybe you should worry. Or you must definitely worry.
My soul is made of glass. The outline is thick and forms a perfect circle. It resembles to a ball of fire. Sometimes steel. Mostly though it’s glass. It can break easily but the fire still exists, containing it, keeping it intact. My mask is made of pain. Some may say it resembles to my soul. Others claim there is no pain inside me, just a failure that I’m trying hard to bring upon myself. I don’t know which theory applies in my case but I wish none are true.
My heart’s state is variable. There is mostly pain; the kind of pain that consumes me, burns my insides and somehow feeds me hope. My soul, I’ve seen, is more than glass and fire, or steel. My soul is blue, green and red. My soul is a mixture of clouds and oceans, soaked summer grass and extracts from extraterrestrial lands. My soul is made of what I am fed and I dare saying, my food is love and hate.

Inspiration…Lost?

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There it was my inspiration swinging like a flake before my eyes. I could see it but I could not touch it. My mind evoked a breeze, a hopeless wind that pushed it away, ravished it on the ground. But my inspiration would not let go. The gravity was not powerful enough to overtake its’ strength. My flake was floating helpless but still alive. For a moment there was no time. It was just a thin shadow in the air that was standing still, waiting for me to unlock the door of my mind. But I couldn’t. Even if I desired to diminish that door, I couldn’t. It was something more than I could conceive or accept. I feared a shadow had control over my subconscious. Perhaps that was it. Someone or something that controlled my emotions.
Unfortunately I figured it out. I was controlled by my own desperate thoughts. I wished I could go back to my dream. I wished for that silence that overwhelmed me.
The midday sun hays blurred my thoughts. Why?