Saturday, December 30, 2006

Pour Me Comprendre

To be able to understand me,
you would have to know what I have become.
To be able to understand me,
My life would have to be known
You will need to learn all about me to become my friend.
To be able to understand me,
It would take at least this evening
To be surprised the way one of my tender glances but,
all is lost to chance.
I know he's very small
In the arms of his mother.
Damage, damage.
I liked his face so much.
To be able to understand me
The decorations from my childhood would have to be known,
The breath of my brother who sleeps,
The resonance of my first agreements.
To be able to understand me
My nights would have to be known.
My dreams of love.
And then my long insomnia.
When comes the day,
With it the fear of facing the life.
It can be there to share with some
A happiness of which I have had my share.
Damage, damage.
I liked some landscapes so much.
To be able to understand me
It needs to be known
That I will not be able.
It would have to be liked more than me
And I will say to you
That I really do not believe in it.
To be able to understand me
It would be necessary to meet Love and meet truth.
For you to understand the great love.
Know that afterwards
All that is there will still live a day.

Saturday, December 23, 2006

"I just need something to happen, I need a sign that things are going to change. I need a reason to go on. I need some hope! And in the absence of hope, I need to stay in bed a feel like I'm going to die today."
Writers are control freaks. With a pen in your hand, you feel unstoppable. There's no fear, there's no pain. You're ten-feet tall and bulletproof. And then you leave the study. And all that perfection, all that beautiful control, just falls to crap.
At the end of the day, there are some things you just can't help but talk about. Some things we just don't want to hear, and some things we say because we can't be silent any longer. Some things are more than what you say, they're what you do. Some things you say cause there's no other choice. Some things you keep to yourself. And not too often, but every now and then, some things simply speak for themselves.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

When the truth is ugly, people try to keep it hidden, because they know if revealed, the damage it will do. So they conceal it within sturdy walls or they place it behind closed doors or they obscure it with clever disguises but truth, no matter how ugly, always emerges. And someone we care about always ends up getting hurt. And someone else will revel in their pain and that's the ugliest truth of all.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

I have often wondered what it must be like to be dead. If we still have the five senses working or if it is just that some of it is with you. If there is any memory left still or is it just the thot of it which is left behind. It must be a strange feeling I suppose..to see and not be seen, to hear and not be heard, to touch and not be felt.

At some point we all have to go through this, for some of us it is may be a difficult journey for some it will be easier. But whatever it is, in whichever shape or size one turns into, I think in the end its all about what you leave behind which matters the most.

The memories is all that remains.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Trust is a fragile thing. Once earned, it affords us tremendous freedom. But once trust is lost, it can be impossible to recover. Of course the truth is, we never know who we can trust. Those we're closest to can betray us, and total strangers can come to our rescue. In the end, most people decide to trust only themselves. It really is the simplest way to keep from getting burned.

Saturday, December 02, 2006

Sometimes doing something is worse than doing nothing. But is doing nothing enough ever?

The Year of Magical Thinking

The truth is that it has finally happened. I have lost the will to write now. Maybe I have just accepted the fact that I wasn’t capable of writing as much as I wanted to. I tried and it just didn’t work out for me. Many of the things which haven’t worked out for me lately.

The problem I lies in the fact that I begin to believe in dreams which don’t exist. Things which have no basis begin to become the center on my world for some odd reason. A sorry state to be in I know. But is it wrong if that is what gives you happiness? Temporarily? I don’t know what permanent happiness is. or if there is a state as such as well. Maybe not.

My year of magical thinking has been a very long one. Longer still is this part which doesn’t seem to end. I think am being torn apart in being who I want to be and what I am. Dreams and hopes and aspirations are each so different now and so profound that I cannot deny them. But then too they’re all un attainable.

Setting goals was easy but it is very difficult to just stick with them. I don’t think am capable.