"Tragedy blows through your life like a tornado, uprooting everything. Creating chaos. You wait for the dust to settle and then you choose. You can live in the wreckage and pretend it's still the mansion you remember. Or you can crawl from the rubble and slowly rebuild."
-Veronica Mars
Monday, December 14, 2009
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
You, you
you are the smile I seek to steal. You are the moments I hope to leave lipstick stains on. You
could very well be everything, very soon.
You mince my words. You make me blush. You get me to stare. And, this time, I'm more than ready..to finally give enough of me..to finally, finally give all of me. I'm a little bit more polished, now..I promise I am. I can show you the world; shining, shimmering, splendid. Tell me, *uhm* now when did you last let your heart decide?
You, you, you shine brighter than anyone.
If I could've sang to you, I would've. If you'd let me..y'know, you should've. You should. It's frustrating to have so much more to write..but no such right, as of yet, to fully express.
I want to see you tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that. And the days after that.
Because I like who I am, when I'm with you.
And all this is completely general, and unstructured, and perfectly frucked up..and I promise I could write so many more butterflies into your skin, if you'd let me. Proper butterflies, conversations with the Sky.
I helped salvage a pretty big bit of love, today..enough of it to keep me believing.
could very well be everything, very soon.
You mince my words. You make me blush. You get me to stare. And, this time, I'm more than ready..to finally give enough of me..to finally, finally give all of me. I'm a little bit more polished, now..I promise I am. I can show you the world; shining, shimmering, splendid. Tell me, *uhm* now when did you last let your heart decide?
You, you, you shine brighter than anyone.
If I could've sang to you, I would've. If you'd let me..y'know, you should've. You should. It's frustrating to have so much more to write..but no such right, as of yet, to fully express.
I want to see you tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that. And the days after that.
Because I like who I am, when I'm with you.
And all this is completely general, and unstructured, and perfectly frucked up..and I promise I could write so many more butterflies into your skin, if you'd let me. Proper butterflies, conversations with the Sky.
I helped salvage a pretty big bit of love, today..enough of it to keep me believing.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
The Post Break-up
And so slightheave says...
First,
it was crying, failing, trying, dying, sacrificing
(and believe me, it only goes so far,
as some things, no matter how hard you try to gain them back,
are really, simply put, not meant for you, maybe not right now,
or maybe not ever.)
Second,
it was waiting.
(because you tell yourself, it might come back if I wait long enough,
and you convince yourself that time is your only ally.)
Third, *which is the hardest
it was hurting
(and you think that it will never ever end.. and
that nothing would ever feel better.)
Fourth,
it was remembering
every single memory, every single moment you spent with him
(because that assures you that you must've meant
at least something to him, too)
Fifth,
it was loving..
(and you find out that, hey! loving wasn't all about just him,
it was about you, too.)
Sixth,
it was learning.
Learning that
some things, some people,
can only stay in a given time, yknow,
to make room for other things,
and other people, too.
Seventh,
it's this.
:)
Hey, i'm actually fine without you..
(No, I haven't broken up with Bench :P I just really liked my friend's post haha)
First,
it was crying, failing, trying, dying, sacrificing
(and believe me, it only goes so far,
as some things, no matter how hard you try to gain them back,
are really, simply put, not meant for you, maybe not right now,
or maybe not ever.)
Second,
it was waiting.
(because you tell yourself, it might come back if I wait long enough,
and you convince yourself that time is your only ally.)
Third, *which is the hardest
it was hurting
(and you think that it will never ever end.. and
that nothing would ever feel better.)
Fourth,
it was remembering
every single memory, every single moment you spent with him
(because that assures you that you must've meant
at least something to him, too)
Fifth,
it was loving..
(and you find out that, hey! loving wasn't all about just him,
it was about you, too.)
Sixth,
it was learning.
Learning that
some things, some people,
can only stay in a given time, yknow,
to make room for other things,
and other people, too.
Seventh,
it's this.
:)
Hey, i'm actually fine without you..
(No, I haven't broken up with Bench :P I just really liked my friend's post haha)
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Oh god, help me
Sometimes, people stay silent out of secrecy, sometimes it's self-preservation, and sometimes..sometimes, we honestly just..don't know what to say.
Sleepless nights
I'm running around in circles, paving my way in orbits, going no where fast.
In some sort of hysterical and mysterious way, I find rationality in insane thoughts during the silence of the night. The silence that daunts me to the bones beneath the surface of what the eyes can see, is sending me frequencies only mad men understand. The silence that gives due comfort to the restless soul searching for solitude, is speaking in tongues I am not familiar of. This silence is meaningless yet meaningful, a paradox that can only be interpreted with cautious ear.
Be still when the night falls and the stars become your day. You have become just like me with a mutated fucked up body clock due to post summer’s not so free days.
In some sort of hysterical and mysterious way, I find rationality in insane thoughts during the silence of the night. The silence that daunts me to the bones beneath the surface of what the eyes can see, is sending me frequencies only mad men understand. The silence that gives due comfort to the restless soul searching for solitude, is speaking in tongues I am not familiar of. This silence is meaningless yet meaningful, a paradox that can only be interpreted with cautious ear.
Be still when the night falls and the stars become your day. You have become just like me with a mutated fucked up body clock due to post summer’s not so free days.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Es. Cap. Eh.
What would it be like, to run away? Not to get anywhere..just to run; to run red lights and see crimson, goldenrod and teal. To run..across Water, and Air; to smile, and wave (or wink) and fly.
And to not need to be caught.
To run across different streets and area codes and continents and timezones..to zones where Time heals, in the stead of pressuring One to do so. It might be nice, to get away.
And what would we be, then?
Who would I be, leaving behind scars and bruises and..people. People? People..'s words and laughter and smiles. Who would I be, amidst and within completely new skin?
Would it be nice to get away?
And to not need to be caught.
To run across different streets and area codes and continents and timezones..to zones where Time heals, in the stead of pressuring One to do so. It might be nice, to get away.
And what would we be, then?
Who would I be, leaving behind scars and bruises and..people. People? People..'s words and laughter and smiles. Who would I be, amidst and within completely new skin?
Would it be nice to get away?
..escapism fails to cover up sentimentality.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
The day
you promised me your heart, I stole it to be sure. Not because I didn't trust, I just knew I wanted more. I took it and on a tiny piece I sewed my little name, and swore that if you loved again, it wouldn't be the same.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
I don't
know where it's safe to..be. There are expectations and cautionary tape; reputations and courtesy. And, no, she'll never run out of smiles or words or thoughts..just places to let loose.
There are odd breakage points, and the slipping urge to ignore them.
I am afraid to compromise; I am unable to rock your boat..I should learn from those awkward nights, those tear stained sheets. I wish to be a radical, the better part of me slits the truths formed at her lips.
I should learn to stop saying
shut the fcuk up.
There seems to be an air
about me that I can't shake off
Something's happening and I'm not sure where this skin'll touch down, anymore. The view from here's a resemblence of..
I hate you, disappear.
It's sleepy and the coasters are lying around..I'm here and people abandon ground. It's paranoia, nausea, it reminds you that things are not yesterday and yesterweek and yestermonth and yesteryear. Thank God. This and you and we are not even just today..we are now; beyond minute, more defined than millisecond..there is nothing to be but the moment. No pasts no reputations no silk sheets.
It's hilarious to have to hide and twist and realize,
in the mess of you,
that it is anything but safe out there.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Amen to you, Paolo Coelho
Closing Cycles
by Paolo Coelho
One always has to know when a stage comes to an end. If we insist on staying longer than the necessary time, we lose the happiness and the meaning of the other stages we have to go through. Closing cycles, shutting doors, ending chapters - whatever name we give it, what matters is to leave in the past the moments of life that have finished.
Did you lose your job? Has a loving relationship come to an end? Did you leave your parents' house? Gone to live abroad? Has a long lasting friendship ended all of a sudden? You can spend a long time wondering why this has happened. You can tell yourself you won't take another step until you find out why certain things that were so important and so solid in your life have turned into dust, just like that. But such an attitude will be awfully stressing for everyone involved: your parents, your husband or wife, your friends, your children, your sister, everyone will be finishing chapters, turning over new leaves, getting on with life, and they will all feel bad seeing you at a standstill.
None of us can be in the present and the past at the same time, not even when we try to understand the things that happen to us. What has passed will not return: we cannot for ever be children, late adolescents, sons that feel guilt or rancor towards our parents, lovers who day and night relive an affair with someone who has gone away and has not the least intention of coming back. Things pass, and the best we can do is to let them really go away.
That is why it is so important to destroy souvenirs, move, give lots of things away to orphanages, sell or donate the books you have at home. Everything in this visible world is a manifestation of the invisible world, of what is going on in our hearts and getting rid of certain memories also means making some room for other memories to take their place. Let things go. Release them. Detach yourself from them. Nobody plays this life with marked cards, so sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. Do not expect anything in return, do not expect your efforts to be appreciated, your genius to be discovered, your love to be understood. Stop turning on your emotional television to watch the same program over and over again, the one that shows how much you suffered from a certain loss: that is only poisoning you, nothing else.
Nothing is more dangerous than not accepting love relationships that are broken off, work that is promised but there is no starting date, decisions that are always put off waiting for the "ideal moment." Before a new chapter is begun, the old one has to be finished: tell yourself that what has passed will never come back. Remember that there was a time when you could live without that thing or that person - nothing is irreplaceable, a habit is not a need. This may sound so obvious, it may even be difficult, but it is very important.
Closing cycles. Not because of pride, incapacity or arrogance, but simply because that no longer fits your life.
Shut the door, change the record, clean the house, shake off the dust.
by Paolo Coelho
One always has to know when a stage comes to an end. If we insist on staying longer than the necessary time, we lose the happiness and the meaning of the other stages we have to go through. Closing cycles, shutting doors, ending chapters - whatever name we give it, what matters is to leave in the past the moments of life that have finished.
Did you lose your job? Has a loving relationship come to an end? Did you leave your parents' house? Gone to live abroad? Has a long lasting friendship ended all of a sudden? You can spend a long time wondering why this has happened. You can tell yourself you won't take another step until you find out why certain things that were so important and so solid in your life have turned into dust, just like that. But such an attitude will be awfully stressing for everyone involved: your parents, your husband or wife, your friends, your children, your sister, everyone will be finishing chapters, turning over new leaves, getting on with life, and they will all feel bad seeing you at a standstill.
None of us can be in the present and the past at the same time, not even when we try to understand the things that happen to us. What has passed will not return: we cannot for ever be children, late adolescents, sons that feel guilt or rancor towards our parents, lovers who day and night relive an affair with someone who has gone away and has not the least intention of coming back. Things pass, and the best we can do is to let them really go away.
That is why it is so important to destroy souvenirs, move, give lots of things away to orphanages, sell or donate the books you have at home. Everything in this visible world is a manifestation of the invisible world, of what is going on in our hearts and getting rid of certain memories also means making some room for other memories to take their place. Let things go. Release them. Detach yourself from them. Nobody plays this life with marked cards, so sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. Do not expect anything in return, do not expect your efforts to be appreciated, your genius to be discovered, your love to be understood. Stop turning on your emotional television to watch the same program over and over again, the one that shows how much you suffered from a certain loss: that is only poisoning you, nothing else.
Nothing is more dangerous than not accepting love relationships that are broken off, work that is promised but there is no starting date, decisions that are always put off waiting for the "ideal moment." Before a new chapter is begun, the old one has to be finished: tell yourself that what has passed will never come back. Remember that there was a time when you could live without that thing or that person - nothing is irreplaceable, a habit is not a need. This may sound so obvious, it may even be difficult, but it is very important.
Closing cycles. Not because of pride, incapacity or arrogance, but simply because that no longer fits your life.
Shut the door, change the record, clean the house, shake off the dust.
Stop being who you were, and change into who you are.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Veronica Mars hits
Logan: I thought we were an epic, you and me. Spanning years and continents. Lives ruined. Bloodshed.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Never let go
Maybe the deepest part of who we are is what scares us or breaks our hearts and we don't want to share that with anyone. And when we do, we don't want to lose those people.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
From the highschoolheart of 06
These words are meant to be felt, not heard; experienced, not read. They tie themselves, like beads, to your ankles. They fall like silver and stardust; meant to be caught, in place of gasps and breaths. Meant to capture emotion as we talk of the last petals falling to the cold concrete of the room..the emptiness of the fading Moon gracefully excusing herself..the Wind carrying the petals off into the Sky. Meant to exclaim as we talk of Sun bursting clear through raindrops as they fall, and cloth hanging by your windows. The warmth on a side of your skin, the kind that makes your eyes half close and your cheeks glow.
Meant to inspire as we talk of two hands, to create, to renew. Two hands and strings of endless, endless words meant to be felt, not heard; a feeling meant to be experienced, not read. One hand, one that grabs onto another, and falls like silver and stardust. A chance meant to be caught, in place of gasps and breaths; and breathes.
My promises are small but certain; we will capture the last few petals as the Moon shines on, and ride the Wind off into the Sky. We will exclaim as the Sun lights your skin, bursting through raindrops and window cloth. But most certainly; your eyes will half close, and cheeks will glow, as two hands meet, create, renew..all I ask is for the right to pen words much more endearing, for you, but not nearly as you.
Meant to inspire as we talk of two hands, to create, to renew. Two hands and strings of endless, endless words meant to be felt, not heard; a feeling meant to be experienced, not read. One hand, one that grabs onto another, and falls like silver and stardust. A chance meant to be caught, in place of gasps and breaths; and breathes.
My promises are small but certain; we will capture the last few petals as the Moon shines on, and ride the Wind off into the Sky. We will exclaim as the Sun lights your skin, bursting through raindrops and window cloth. But most certainly; your eyes will half close, and cheeks will glow, as two hands meet, create, renew..all I ask is for the right to pen words much more endearing, for you, but not nearly as you.
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