30.7.09

and this is where i start to hesitate, where it starts to hurt.
where i'm weak and i look back as a walk away
and i turn to salt.
i have been here before.

on this very day, no wonder.
but i don't wanna be salt.
the temptation to turn around is big, as to stay in my comfort place
to settle for what's familiar. to choose the safe rout i know by heart.

i refuse to settle. i refuse to be a statue.

and there it is, a sunshine waiting for me ahead.

26.7.09

a july morning.

Little girl walking down the street. A green lollipop on her dreamy smile. Turns to look around, stops at a random point and stares with big green eyes. The birds on the trees, the boys going home.
She lies on a street bench facing the sun. She smiles at the leaves and the wind and the sun.

My oh my, would you just look at that girl.

She has been wished good night. And so, she feels she has company enjoying the midday cold.

And in the most platonic of ways, in saying good night, she feels his presence goes with her to sleep.

23.7.09

un kid y esquizofrenia.

bailamos
un vals
al compás de tu love song.
cuando cierro los ojos
y veo los tuyos y escucho
tu love song.

do you follow your head or your heart? la típica.
suerte que no soy tan auto indulgente para creer que me excusa.
suerte?

y esto, no ves, no es lo de siempre.
cuándo me oíste hablar de tu love song?
cómo los tonos tierra ahora de repente
son acordes? y qué carajo sé yo de acordes?
cuentos, lollypops, utopías
es este, como él diría, mi nuevo personaje?
tal vez sea toda esa ingenuidad parte de tu encanto,
es seguro que hay algo en ese arrojo y esa ceguera,
como si el mundo fuera a acabarse..
reconozco a la que era en las palabras, en las ideas
en ese arrojo y esa ceguera. tal vez se trate de eso.

es cierto que estoy tan cansada de tanta bitterness.
qué es, después de todo, lo tan terrible?
diecinueve son solo diecinueve y no suenan tan lejanos a.
porqué no podría tener yo esa frescura y esa energía
de golpearme y golpearme la cabeza contra la pared, como antes.
la ingenuidad viene con esperanza. y no se trata de olvidar.

porqué no, dulzura, entonces, una vez más.
volver a un punto balanceado. recuperar lo que es mío.
ensillar ese caballo y partir, como siempre, sola a mi aventura.
ves? yo nunca diría eso. pero lo hubiera pensado. ah, si lo he pensado.
curioso pero no tanto que una vez más el catalizador sea alguien más.
y por supuesto, tu love song. procuraré llevarla conmigo.

no qué crea ni quiera alejarme de ella. cuidado.
es, después de todo, con quién mejor la paso.
pero como buena droga es inconstante e inconsciente. deja resaca.
y solo dura un rato.
entonces:

qué placer viajar de nuevo contigo, dulzura.
te he extrañado.

21.7.09

a high fall down to earth.

I'm acting like a freaking dumb schoolgirl.
Checking my emails every five minutes. What the fuck am I expecting?
Is this my answer to a bit of interest? How very pathetic of me.
What happened to my decision? It's not an option, remember?
And it's just a song and some puzzling words. And a very nebulous moment.
I'm responsible for what happens. So I need my brain thinking straight.
Just calm down, shut the fuck up and stop acting like an idiot.
I feel like I'm seventeen myself.

a love song.

call me crazy, but it is the sweetest love song i've ever heard.
because what else can it be, than a love song?

in it, his eyes, his smile, his voice, his hands.
telling me.. beautiful.

i want to let it go. i have to let it be.
but how can i resist a love song?
such a beautiful love song.

i should let it go. let it be.
but i have been swept off my feet by a love song.

20.7.09

a secret.

a fading memory
a walk outside
a stolen moment
a shine on the eye
a hand on my back
a feel of his lips against mine
a word of regret
a world of guilt
a link too strong to resist
a closeness so long denied

the looks, the eyes. a cricked smile. the touch of his hand.
this feeling i can't get out of my mind.

the act, the hiding. and anyone knows.
so, so many levels of wrong.

don't speak. don't breath. don't move. just hide.
(part of me wants to shout out loud)

don't do absolutely anything about it. we just can't.

11.7.09

bullshit.

I'm ok
You're ok
Everything's fine and I don't mind. No we don't mind.
Everything's great and nothing change.
Just like brother and sister. Only not.

The ingenuity annoy me. How could it possibly be the same?
Everything you said you loved is gone. It can't be.
Now it's weird. And we're not comfortable.
That's not ok.

It is different for you. It is different for me.
I don't want to be your sister.
It doesn't work like that. It doesn't work like this.
If I'm not comfortable, if you are not comfortable.
We can't talk, we can't laugh, we can't joke.
It doesn't work like this.

I just hope it works.
Maybe it'll work just fine. And then in time.
God I hope it works.

I mean, seriously, it's just sex!

6.7.09

choices, choices

The what ifs are always there. What if I would had bought the blue dress? What if I'd had a pizza instead of a yogurt? Well this are my what ifs.

What if I wouldn't had called him? What if I wouldn't had fucked things up with Ale?
What if I would had stayed with Fran? What if I wouldn't had taken him back?
What if I would had chosen him?

Don't get me wrong. I don't have any regrets. Almost. They're just what ifs.
Would'a, Could'a, Should'a.
Little sharp questions that will pinch my butt forever 'cause I'll never have the answer.

What if I would had chosen him?

3.7.09

quarantined.

Things I have learned so far:

- Burning in fever is way better than shaking from fever.
- I have a rather low resistance to pain.
- I get cranky when I feel like I'm going to die.
- Raw food does not taste good.
- There's nothing to watch on tv before 6pm.
- It's comfortable to work from home. But it also gets kinda lazy.
- She's an absolute idiot and definitely nowhere near as mature as she thinks. Not ready to make her own decisions.
- I need to change my toothpaste.


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