You move in circles but time pushes you forward.
When you look back, smiles have faded into tears and, regardless of how you retrace your steps, the resulting image is blurred, a mishmash of expressions. Nothing is crystal clear anymore.
I wish I could see the light in your transluscent soul, enough light to help me make a leap of faith to the quicksands you're standing on.
Love lives in every small gesture we have towards others.
Two days ago, I was rather tense before a syntax presentation I had to make in a linguistics congress. To be honest, my topic was a bit dull (copular clauses), so the attendance was about twenty people.
However, speaking to a teacher audience is always challenging: they are constantly evaluating your points and making connections you might have not seen (I know this from personal experience) :)
Two familiar faces showed up in my presentation at the last minute.
One, my English 1 teacher, the very first teacher I had when I started studying at Uni. She sat at the back of the room, irradiating widsom and calm as she did when I was her...
Grateful for this day.
Grateful for your smile every morning.
For mother's love, for father's guidance, for brothers' life-sharing.
Grateful for my job. For having the chance to do what I love and be paid for it.
Grateful for the people I meet: the good have taught me where to go, and the bad what to refrain from.
Grateful for life.
Some try to clutch novelty and meaningless fun, in a desperate attempt to keep their coolness afloat, while they let empathy drown helplessly in the deep sea of their egoes.
This noise they chase after, the polished photos of their meals, the meetings with friends that appear to be no more than drinking buddies, all this mishmash of events carefully selected to prove that they love life and fun.
While running this race against time itself, building a bond with other people is too laborious. To continue with the masquerade, they get some other humans to be the backdrop for their amusement.
I rather be light-sabering with my own monsters in writing or in silence, than putting up a facade of ...
It will all pass.
That could be my mantra, the words I cling on to when the exits to my daily labyrinths are shrouded in darkness.
It will all pass, the pain, the sadness, the stress, the illness, the wounds, the people. This will all evaporate and leave no trace.
All I can do is put my bravest face on this storm and build myself so strong that any quake will see me unperturbed.
I can't sleep tonight, and I was thinking about the people I have met here and on other writing platforms.
Writing and reading for me are a sort of safe haven I turn to when I need to feel myself again. I don't have much spare time (except on holidays ) so the minutes I spend scribbling my thoughts or learning about others are precious.
I have found out some friends that I feel close to my heart and who truly care about me, like O, San, Alma, Artie (though we fight a lot :)) or Brie. They are the ones who read my writings, who ask 'are you ok?'; in other words, people to whom I matter. These people are also better than me in different dimensions: better writers, better thinkers, better ...
I found myself floating again
Towards the shore of your indifference
With no lifejacket in sight.
But this time, instead of insisting
On shouting your name to the winds,
I built a precarious raft
And took the reins of my heart.
You may not prevent the tempest from coming my way.
Yet I find
in knowing that you will be by my side
While I search for a path to the nearest
She was the most clichéed narrative under the guise of a woman and I was a microtale. His reading skills being quite mediocre, he chose what he could make sense of.
It's one of those days in which life kicks you and throw punches at you, and all you can do is try to avoid them as gracefully as possible.
We can change what we notice to be wrong.
When I reflect upon my actions, I see myself wasting my time on trying to fix what can't be fixed if there's no will. The reason for this is that I hate giving up on people, since I earn my living helping others see their true potential and find a better future.
Many times, it is too late when I notice that people are crossing one of my lines. Some of my friends usually help me see where the blurry thin mark was so that I can see who has overstepped it. I find this extremely difficult, so while I'm learning to set my limits and priorities, my friends are my scaffolding.
This is one of those times in which I have an epiphany, a sudden realization ...
Who knew that under the spider web of lights hovering on the city that evening I would fimd the very thing I have been searching for during my whole life?
Should there be more than one universe,
with parallell dimensions and intersections,
Find me in one of the narrow paths in the forest,
And grow old and young and old again by my side
Every thought of you is peace, it means finding a well brimming with simple joy in the desert of coolness called modern life.
Each photo of subjects with vacant eyes and monochrome smiles only brings me closer to the technicolor of our daydreaming.
Your words are like a warm blanket this autumn morning, a golden embrace of souls as a timid sun hesitates to wake up.
We have built a world so strong that, even when there might be a menacing tide approaching, we remain undaunted by the one any many storms around us.
Knowing that you are smiling an ocean away, as you drift off to the sea of neverending dreams, floods my heart with a wave of peace. Love can't feel any other way.
And the wisest option
In this furious weather
Is to step aside
And wait for calm to reign
...striving to find beauty in this mess called life.
.... trying to grow wiser and stronger.
... being surrounded only by the people I care about.
The night is the blackest door with countless keyholes.
One day I peeped in one of them and found your radiant smile reflected to infinity. I have never felt alone again.
Autumn is passing by my window wearing its sparkliest golden outfit this afternoon. Waving to the rhythm of the whimsy gusts of wind, Autumn leaves a trace of glassy raindrops and a scent of wet pine trees hanging by the door.
Being the first and the last person I see every day, you know me better than I know myself.
You support my every dream and hope, and you help me grow in every possible way.
In this day and age it's hard to strike a balance, but your smile scaffolds my day to day.
I'm grateful to the universe for having the crazy idea of coming up with its most perfect creation in the shape of you.
When you finally understand
That all you have is you,
Years of opression become
The wings of freedom.
Will I forget about you?
Not even if you send my memories to the bottom of the sea of obliviousness, letting it sink heavily and rest among other wrecks of your past.
I will anchor my feet to the rocks and try to contact you, even if all I get is a morse-code brief answer.
I'm and shall always be here.
Sometimes, you have to unlearn.
From an early age I was raised to crave for recognition: to get the best marks in class, to stand out from the rest, to conform to rules.
This perspective casts a shadow on my daily life. I find it hard to feel happy in a world that barely acknowledges my existence.
I've decided, for the sake of my happiness and peace, to ignore the indifference that hurts me, or even better, to care more for my own thoughts than for other people's.
Autumn rain on my tin roof and the thought of you floating delicately on these bronze leaves, each of them nesting a sweet memory.
I was immersed in a mindstorm as usual, with problems clouding my near sight.
"What's up miss? High five", said a kid to me.
All of a sudden, a warm breeze invaded my soul and I remembered I'm human.