36
sin equipaje expirado ni ideas preconcebidas
no pensado ni determinado, sino con ese flow
esa onda llevadera, lo que se siente bien
ahora
habia estado respirando un ayer consumido
y filamndo un futuro incierto.
pero (ya tu sabes)>>>> ahora
es todo lo que tenemos.
asi que respiro
soplando un toque de levedad
thinking 2
and those were thoughts. bad bad thoughts. insecruriities, not intuition.
i'm glad i didnt let them overcome me.
i'm glad i didnt let them overcome me.
thinking
just tonite i have this thought that it's all wrong.
a thought that altough everything tells me not to think so much and just go with it...
that maybe i'm sabotaging myself.
a thought that danger is up ahead and i will be hurt. in fact, just thinking about it is already starting to hurt. why am i doing this to myself?
is it real? can i distinguish between my intuition and my insecurities?
a thought that altough everything tells me not to think so much and just go with it...
that maybe i'm sabotaging myself.
a thought that danger is up ahead and i will be hurt. in fact, just thinking about it is already starting to hurt. why am i doing this to myself?
is it real? can i distinguish between my intuition and my insecurities?
a person that keeps on as if time didnt go by...but it has and you changed. but did you?
a young outlook, maybe even juvinile, still wanting to be crazy inlove. still naive and hopeful. and i look around and find myself sometimes wanting time to stop. still alternative in thought, but really wanting what everybody else wants too. to be wanted. but having is more important, it's not what you want but what you have.
freedom.
choices.
and what you can give of yourself.
a young outlook, maybe even juvinile, still wanting to be crazy inlove. still naive and hopeful. and i look around and find myself sometimes wanting time to stop. still alternative in thought, but really wanting what everybody else wants too. to be wanted. but having is more important, it's not what you want but what you have.
freedom.
choices.
and what you can give of yourself.
músculo involuntario
sí, el corazón es un músculo involuntario/ok, no estoy hablando de un músculo: pasión...amor/que generalemtne atribuímos o relacionamos a ese músculo debido a que queda cerca del centro del pecho y generalemente late fuerte al uno sentir emociones. emociones de todo tipo: miedo, enamoramiento, nerviosismo, por mencionar algunas.
pero "el corazón"/"estas cerca de mi corazón"/"mi corazón te pertenece"...porque sin ese sentir se siente que ya no podrá latir más y moriremos. pero eso es falso. siempre seguimos viviendo, solo nos morimos brevemente un poco, y la condición humana predice y es evidencia de que no nos morimos de amor, o la falta de ese ser querido. somos una especie bastante resistente. nos morimos porque decidimos rendirnos ante la busqueda de nuestra felicidad. nos morimos un poco y luego recuperamos cabeza y seguimos adelante..claro, hay otros que no. como cuando una pareja de viejtos llevan juntos toda una vida y uno se muere y el otro le sigue. pues..la vida para el que quedo ya se vivió y no hay nada mas en sus ojos que pueda darle luz.
vuelvo pues a mi establecimiento de que el corazón es un músculo involuntario, pues ya me fui en tangente. porque es involuntario. no podemos dictarle a nuestro "corazón" en donde debe derramar su zumo. podemos decidir mentalemente lo que nos conviene pero al final el corazón da la palabra final. cuando estamos confusos nos dicen "escucha a tu corazón".."go with your gut feeling". cuando hacemos las cosas con el corazón, generalmente son las que debemos de hacer. cuando escuchamos nuestro instinto, mas alla de los impulsos, ahí esta la clave que nos lleva a experiencias ricas. ese músculo involuntario es nuestro yo interno. nuestra guía, nuestro dios. y escucharlo es darle fé.
pero "el corazón"/"estas cerca de mi corazón"/"mi corazón te pertenece"...porque sin ese sentir se siente que ya no podrá latir más y moriremos. pero eso es falso. siempre seguimos viviendo, solo nos morimos brevemente un poco, y la condición humana predice y es evidencia de que no nos morimos de amor, o la falta de ese ser querido. somos una especie bastante resistente. nos morimos porque decidimos rendirnos ante la busqueda de nuestra felicidad. nos morimos un poco y luego recuperamos cabeza y seguimos adelante..claro, hay otros que no. como cuando una pareja de viejtos llevan juntos toda una vida y uno se muere y el otro le sigue. pues..la vida para el que quedo ya se vivió y no hay nada mas en sus ojos que pueda darle luz.
vuelvo pues a mi establecimiento de que el corazón es un músculo involuntario, pues ya me fui en tangente. porque es involuntario. no podemos dictarle a nuestro "corazón" en donde debe derramar su zumo. podemos decidir mentalemente lo que nos conviene pero al final el corazón da la palabra final. cuando estamos confusos nos dicen "escucha a tu corazón".."go with your gut feeling". cuando hacemos las cosas con el corazón, generalmente son las que debemos de hacer. cuando escuchamos nuestro instinto, mas alla de los impulsos, ahí esta la clave que nos lleva a experiencias ricas. ese músculo involuntario es nuestro yo interno. nuestra guía, nuestro dios. y escucharlo es darle fé.
astros
la vi hace unas semanas y tambien hace unos dias
le sonreí
me agarró por el pelo y me mancho el nombre
revolcandose a sí misma
intentando provocar
pero ahora se calmó
se desliza el coraje
en gotas
lo malo nace del miedo
ya no existe un galán para esa novela
y creo que las dos salimos mejor
las estrellas de nuestras peliculas
le sonreí
me agarró por el pelo y me mancho el nombre
revolcandose a sí misma
intentando provocar
pero ahora se calmó
se desliza el coraje
en gotas
lo malo nace del miedo
ya no existe un galán para esa novela
y creo que las dos salimos mejor
las estrellas de nuestras peliculas
tic-toc
tic-toc
tic-toc
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i try to ignore the hands turning
maybe if i don't listen to them
they will somehow stop moving
tic-toc
wheels are turning
is my time up
just keep moving
it misses my perception
and i think...who am i?
just a time machine?
decisions are based on a clock and no more?
timing is everything, someone said
and many people repeated
am i a bomb about to explode?
in this race i live
the tic and toc keep
ticking and tocking
the folic acid i should be taking
stop smoking once and for all
eat healthy
prepare
prepare for what?
my body is a temple i must cherish
my life line is random and zig-zagging
tic-toc
tic-toc
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thirty-six
in nine-teen days
it's ticking!
fuck, it's ticking loud.
maybe i should stop thinking of ticking.
tic-toc
tic-toc
tic-toc
tic-toc
i try to ignore the hands turning
maybe if i don't listen to them
they will somehow stop moving
tic-toc
wheels are turning
is my time up
just keep moving
it misses my perception
and i think...who am i?
just a time machine?
decisions are based on a clock and no more?
timing is everything, someone said
and many people repeated
am i a bomb about to explode?
in this race i live
the tic and toc keep
ticking and tocking
the folic acid i should be taking
stop smoking once and for all
eat healthy
prepare
prepare for what?
my body is a temple i must cherish
my life line is random and zig-zagging
tic-toc
tic-toc
tic-toc
tic-toc
tic-toc
thirty-six
in nine-teen days
it's ticking!
fuck, it's ticking loud.
maybe i should stop thinking of ticking.
witness
i took her cel with me.
she held it in her hand as if it was her heart and letting go would stop it's beat. i felt her grasp let go unwillingly, not wanting to give herself away, her weakness, her addiction.
the excitement, knowing it was so sickening in so many ways, thrilling to the vain.
the rush of the anticipation. the constant chatter of the details of the last encounter, the last conversation, the last words until the next ones and what would take place. the last looks. making up future scenarios, option A, B & C. if this happens i'll do this, if that, this..and so on.
she couldn't stop. she wouldn't stop. it made her alive.
athough there was a putrid stench we both couldn't ignore.
a witness i'd become. and she was mine.
we were both wrong. and we both died a little inside.
she had my cel.
she held it in her hand as if it was her heart and letting go would stop it's beat. i felt her grasp let go unwillingly, not wanting to give herself away, her weakness, her addiction.
the excitement, knowing it was so sickening in so many ways, thrilling to the vain.
the rush of the anticipation. the constant chatter of the details of the last encounter, the last conversation, the last words until the next ones and what would take place. the last looks. making up future scenarios, option A, B & C. if this happens i'll do this, if that, this..and so on.
she couldn't stop. she wouldn't stop. it made her alive.
athough there was a putrid stench we both couldn't ignore.
a witness i'd become. and she was mine.
we were both wrong. and we both died a little inside.
she had my cel.
check marks and beyond
you know i am not perfect.
those little check marks...
afiery
astubborn
ademanding
amoody
achildish
and those others...
acreative
a intelligent
asexy
acommunicative
acute
acaring
me.
that could lead into trouble, break a heart, shatter dreams. OR sucess, happiness, concrete hopes.
and promises are promises. words are worlds of letters.
the best intentions are susceptible to:
a the direction of the wind
aof the weather,
aof the wave
aof the determination to hold on.
like a ripple in the water...echoes of a movement intent.
those little check marks are there to make us see beyond the mirror. to gaze into ourselves and strip out patterns, and preconceived notions, and past experiences.
because it is only me.
and you.
and you and me.
q and we...
niegame
nunca quise ser la sombra de un amor ahogado
ni convertirme en la aspereza de una esperanza
no soñe con ser el paño mojado
de una noche muerta que grita en mi panza
olvidalo
dale mecha al viento
deja que se derrumbe en un lienzo
no le des mencion a memorias
que forman parte de un cuento malo
ni cantes triunfo a una gloria
que no se agarran ni a un palo
olvidame
devora un pasado
dejame correr a otro lado
siempre quise ser la luz de tu coro
y bailar en un tramo liviano
sudar la calma de un socorro
ser tu canto gregoriano
olvida ya
borralo todo
niegame de tu sueño
me tocas
tu me tocas
desde lejos
desde nepal
brasil
españa
o india
me tocas
te siento mirando las cosas...respirando, sintiendo. de cuando en vez, en un dia nublado quizas caigo en tu mente deslumbrada.
quizas no.
pero me tocas desde lejos
y con eso me conformo.
desde lejos
desde nepal
brasil
españa
o india
me tocas
te siento mirando las cosas...respirando, sintiendo. de cuando en vez, en un dia nublado quizas caigo en tu mente deslumbrada.
quizas no.
pero me tocas desde lejos
y con eso me conformo.
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