S01E03

OK. We’re down to the nitty gritty now. One hero left. God cracks his knuckles ready to administer the final reckoning. Now Hero #3 is pretty much a god himself. So for the sake of telling them apart, he’s blue and he likes to stroll around with his dick hanging out. He can teleport, he can see into the future, he blows shit up. He’s got actual superpowers. Regular God asks Blue God what have you done with these gifts?” Blue God says “I fell in love with a woman, I walked across the sun, and then I fell in love with another woman. I won the Vietnam War. But mostly I just don’t give a shit about humanity.” God sighs. “Do I even need to ask how many people you’ve killed?” Blue guy shrugs.” A live body and a dead body have the same number of particles so it doesn’t matter. And it doesn’t matter how I answer your question because I know you’re sending me to hell.” “How do you know that?” asks God. Blue God sounds very sad when he softly says “Because I’m already there.” And so, a mere piston in the inevitable of time and space God does what he did and will do. He snaps his fingers and the hero goes to hell.

to write

 pick up your pen, dip it in your wound and write... just write.

VAME

 He was a beautiful little boy that was tarnished by his father. Hunted by an obsessive woman and destroyed by his vices. He was my father. Looking back I do feel that his life was poetic. He was keen on buying his own grave and plating flowers in it. He loved to visit the cemetery to check it (years before his passing). He was loved. I adored my father, I was like his tail following him around. He was the first man that broke my heart, and all I can say is that I never could put it back together again. I love him and his passing gave me peace because he was evil, he carried too much darkness deep inside so much. No soul can carry such a heavy burden, no soul should. I pray that the Lord might greet him and hold him. May his soul return to Source and there, may it continue its path to evolution. There he will be loved and cured.

The things that left unsaid

 If I could go back in time, I would walk into Sophos and I will listen. I would then tell you how I feel about you, how I've loved you.

Weeks after that last meeting, my fiancée at the time once talked about you (not knowing your name and yet recognizing the existence of a shadow between us), and I sat there frozen, realizing how transparent I was.

Only months after that I ended the engagement. I just couldn't marry him for the simple reason that he wasn't you.

Yes, I was a coward. I was so afraid that you would once again say you did not love me. I was afraid to lose whatever small crumble I had left from you. It's frustrating to know that one conversation would have changed so much. In truth those little moments are the game changers, and yet we never recognize seem until they're gone. 

I love you. You make me angry. You make me feel vulnerable. I've exposed myself to you, answering any kind of question and yet it just wasn't enough for you to see me.

All this fear of you, make me create a tough persona around you. This "I won't let you hurt me anymore" persona that is not me.

I've hurt myself for too long, and now I'm just exhausted. I just can't do this anymore.

decir lo que nunca he dicho

 palabras que nunca serán dichas, son palabras muertas

aquellas que no sobreviven más allá de nuestra garganta

son las historias que nunca fueron fuera de nuestra mente

son los cuentos que no cuentas, que solo sientes

son los fetos muertos de una pasión

son los hijos de la cobardía

esta es la eterna fuga: el silencio

y de nuevo, la misma conversación que nunca fue

la misma pared en medio del camino

y de nuevo, la misma conversación que nunca fue

aquella que resolvería todo lo nunca dicho

más palabras perecen en mi lengua

Un corazón, su vacío y la sombra

 

 

Image by Elmohood

 

Hace años di mi corazón, o por lo menos una buena parte de él.  Ese sábado lo di sin querer y no me di cuenta que después de eso nunca lo tendría de vuelta.

 

Tal vez ese "dar el corazón" que sucede en la juventud o sólo una vez. 

Creo que es por eso que tengo el pecho vacío.  

Entiendo que por eso nunca pude amar a ninguién más que a él.

"Él" es una sombra que me sigue, yo no sabía que esa sombra era visible, pero lo es, lo fue y lo será. "Él" es una sombra que ahora ocupa el vacío que mi corazón llenaba antes.

Intentar amar es inútil, lo único que queda es el vacío. 

Por años intenté amar y cuando eso no funcionó busqué a quien me amase.

 

About Boris

 Image by morysetta

When I say my cat is out of this world, I'm not kidding.  I think this alien got a cat's jumpsuit and walked into my life.

 

summer

white beams that burn my face
blinded by the flow
beaten by a white wave

summer
I feed a dream
whilst I kill another...

mar

Lenta y sigilosamente te aproximas

Devorando la arena.

Y quieto, me miras.

Retrocedes, te aproximas,

Esa cadencia se volvió un baile eterno.

No sé ya cuántas veces he intentado levantarme,

e irme para siempre.

Perdí la cuenta.

Sé que intento apoyar el peso en las manos para levantar al resto de mi cuerpo,

que cansado cae de nuevo en la arena...

Será tu olor salado,

O la brisa áspera de tu aliento,

Estoy anclada en la playa.

Tal vez ya me perdí en tu inmensidad

Y aún no me di cuenta...

...

For almost half of my life I´ve been running from this feeling, I can run no longer. I wish I could strip down and leave this armor behind, somehow it has shrunk or maybe I've outgrown it.

Humbly I reach to thee my Lord... teach me how to take off this armor and still be strong, how to love pass my fear of rejection and how to open myself without being invaded. Teach me.

Now I see...

Love hit me on the face hard and I was so blind.  I was blinded by my selfishness.  Now I know that I was loved, I just wasn't loved as I wanted to be loved and as the spoiled immature child that I am, I made a tantrum.

I shunned love, just because it didn't looked that it supposed to.

I beg forgiveness to all those man I hurt (my father included), because all my inner turmoil and confusion has hurt them.. many men and some women included. 

I was loved.  Loved knocked on my door several times actually and I could not tell what it was.  I was so scared and I shielded myself behind my pain.

I am thankful for the loss, for what I lost... because it took all that to find myself.

mariposas

Over here, when we let go, we say "to open one's hands".  So here it is: I OPEN MY HANDS. I let go.  See I've thought about this, this and this.  By this I mean, "to open one's hands" is to release. This is this, because I love you, I do this.  Because I love you I cannot hold you hostage. Because I love you I hope that you may find happiness... I hope that you may be happy.

  Nadie me preguntó y tampoco lo dije antes, pero la imagen encima es uno de los cuadros de Louise Bourgeois.   Cuando me entra la nostalgia o cuando la carga eléctrica (cortesía de Urano) comienza a agitarme, veo un poco de sus trabajos y parece que me encuentro.   Sería tan bueno envejecer y dejar tanto atrás.

Esa pieza es particularmente oportuna, pues volví... eso en dos sentidos, el primero fue ir atrás (viajar en el tiempo) para encontrarme.  ¡Sí! En el camino vi muchas imágenes particularmente dolorosas, pero al final del corredor estaba YO.  Esa persona valiente que se me escapa -a veces- y que aparece otras -inoportunamente-.

Fue bueno volver, ver todo lo que he escrito, para quien, por qué... fue bueno. Fue bueno volver aquí... regresar al presente y liberarme (un poco).

'cause I'm young and in love...

I heard that song some weeks ago, and it reminded me of "me"... that young ME... a Space Odyssey 2001 me... that brave me, the girl who defy her parents, pass her fear, went for it, rushed into love, head first, first love, first boy, first all (me).  

I'm not that girl anymore, I am a bag of fears, an anthology of scars, see I did not grew older, I grew fearful... I am afraid all the time, but I grew tired of being afraid.

I wanna meet that girl halfway... I don't expect to 100% find her... but I want to feel her in me again. That beautiful song brought back the thirst (for life, for love, for all) that has been asleep in my mouth.. then many songs came... Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience... let us meet then my girl halfway:

"It doesn't matter if I'm not enough

For the future or the things to come"

060901

S 9
17 9 43
18°13'  Sun in Gemini opp Natal Neptune
21°48  Moon conjuct to midpoint in Capricorn
29° 9   Mercury (Gem)
2°27    Venus (Ar)
24°15  Mars (Sag)
22°14   Júpiter (Gem)
6°14     Saturn (Gem) opp to Moon (Sag)
24°48   Uranus conjuct to Mercury and Venus in Aquarius
8°33     Neptune in Aquarius semi sextile to Sun
13°48   Pluto Conjunct to Moon in Sagittarius
6°21     North node  Can - entering 12 th
7°16     South node  Cap - entering 6 th
21°40   Lilith conjunct to Mercury in Aquarius
26°24   Chirion (Sag)

I look back and I say to myself "poor child, you were way in over your head" the god of karma set you up, cross fire of stars to drag you to hell.  you were a lamb heading to the slaughter house (nobody told ya that bae, nobody ever warned you about love).

You had to change, one way or another, that was the only way back then.  Loosing, bleeding, dying pushed you to change.

If I could, I would go back in time and save you from all that, but I can't.  All I can say is that "I get it now, I had no choice, it was gonna happen".

Alas, in the crying game you win or you die... "you died".  now I don't wanna play no more...

There is the glimmer of hope that if the past is to be understood, then, the future might not be so foggy after all....

la barra, la gente y otras cosas

si algo aprendí afuera es que "es posible"...

todos los días dentro del vagón lleno mantengo el equilibrio, pues por ser pequeña estoy en el medio de la multitud y no alcanzo la barra.

aprendí a doblar las rodillas y a seguir el movimento del tren, a recostarme un poco de un lado cuando siento que va a frenar y a parar cuando para.  en pocas palabras: aprendí a fluir.

la barra es una ilusión, aunque el tren está parado muchos se agarran y no se sueltan, no la necesitan, es más fácil seguir agarrado, depender, culpar, señalar, en fin... muchos de los vicios de la mente (al final esas son las barras a las que nos agarramos).

entendí que si aprendí a vivir sin esa barra, vivir sin ti es posible, es posible, es posible....

del libro de la juventud

y no es malo
que tus besos
se descascaren de mis labios 
como aquella piel caduca que las serpientes botan
en su camino a la eternidad
mis labios resquebrajados botan esa capa fina, 
traslúcida,
mínima,
que habiendo cumplido su cometido
se queda en el suelo
y perece en el olvido...

2007

lioness

I honor my father by creating... by shinning...

del libro de la juventud

el último aliento antes del salto
a un paso del hambriento abismo
el temor que parece esparcirse por mis venas
me obliga a respirar profundo
para devorar el aire
un sólo suspiro 
antes de iniciar el salto
lo infinito me espera
en un instante,
el designio llega a ser concreto
más agudo e intenso 
es el temor a no dar el paso
éste es sólo el primero
el resto traerá otras emociones 
este es el temor a no vivir
me rehuso a continuar con la duda de una posibilidad inclusa

2007