One day

The feeling is there
TRYING

She looks at him with love
Affection..

She has this urge to kiss and
Be kissed
To hug
Be hugged

Expression the love she feels

But it is the same as
Touching
Wood
Cardboard
A piece of paper...

Nothing comes from it
Not a breath
A smile
A touch

Of love...

A moment

She looks at you, and she screams her anger
Partially from seeing you again,
Partially for all the hours of worry and
Knowledge of sadness and fading health

Hers, yours..

She believed in you and deep inside she still does
(Realistically, not that deep)
The look of love in the mornings
(Even though you may not see with sandy eyes)

When she touches your face
Kissing goodbye
The sweat of the stress imposed
In your body
She holds her tears…

She understands but does not.
She knows there is more than meets the eyes
But she can not read with her own
No longer (or did she ever…)

She looks around and realizes that
Maybe wrong decisions and priorities are affecting
Her live and yours

She picks a piece of paper and writes a note
Than she throws away
And writes again…
“Love you... I hope you have a lovely day”

She decides to read
Notes from others
Become aware once more
Life and happenings
She is hurt.
She does not find any self value.

Because from diminutive notes,
And noticing she didn’t act upon things
Noticing she fears
And she cares
She just let things be…
(Like running away from tornados)

Now she knows that is another day gone
Another dream
Another possible life
And what to make of her own
Self
Life

She writes it down to remember
This is your moment
This is your path
Serenity
Or Insanity
A Choice is only one mon amour…

First day of the week

She woke up thinking about the day
As she walks to the living-room
The night storms away
Shooting guns and
Airplanes
" Don't worry"
He says
"Another day"
She says

The shower is warm
She feels the drops of water
touching her every skin cells
sometimes softly
sometimes harshly
until the balance becomes unwelcome
and she turns the tap
Off

Drying, Wrapping her body
Her long and wavy hair
She exits the bathroom
Enters the bedroom
And yells comfortably
" what are your plans today?"

The sounds of violence in the air
( Adult "entertainment"?)
She knows an answer won't come
She picks a dress
The feel of spring
She tries again
" What are your plans for today?"

It seems like an usual morning
From a standard point of view
Even though mosts days are like
Tropical storms

She turns on a tune
" Internet radio" she says
He hears it as an invitation to leave
The shower turns on
" Same as yours I guess"

" Meeting a friend?"
" I guess I will just sleep"

She tries once more
To find a middle ground
Balance
Fairness?
Existence.

She leaves.

After a long afternoon.
The invitation.
She crosses the living-room.
Walks to the balcony
Breather.


Knock.
" Still sleeping?"
She knows things won't change.
She doesn't assume.
" Now? Later? In some minutes?"
It's okay.

She opens the door
The car lock beeps
She enjoys spending time by herself.
Sometimes.

4 hours later.
" Hello?"
" Please don't come home"
" Okay"

8 hours later.
" Is it okay?"
" Sure... sorry things didn't work out"

She picks up the bags from the trunk.
Make-ups and random girly stuff.
Like dried fruit chips ( they were on sale...)

" That's lovely. Thank you."
" It's my fault... but can you help?"
" Sure."

Dinner ready.
Savouring.
Kind of.
Again.

A message...
A comment.
" Are you saying this again?"
He, back and forth.
She, nothing like a bath after a long day.

After 20 minutes.
She hears the sound of silence.
He's gone.

Another normal day.

a touch of positivity

Sometimes you spend a long time crying

About life

About things that happen everyday

Or happened in the past

About people's attitudes towards you

When you are happy and they bring you down

About misunderstandings and assumptions

When you just want to let things go

Life is too short to hold on to

Bits and pieces

Of pain



I don't want any of this in my life

I want happiness

Simple happiness of everyday life

Wake up in the morning and smile

It is a beautiful day

( Even if a glance at the windows shows heavy rain and

a long day of work)

And because even if you are not a perfect human being

You've learned to smile and accept

Nobody can be physically or intellectually or emotionally perfect

But everybody has the ability to accept who they are and

How positive they can be

And how wonderful they can be towards the world

Their loved ones, themselves

And that, for me, is more than perfect....

It is the touch of positivity

We all need in our lives.

Good Morning

Waking up
Positively scrambling through
Mental Notes
To do
Wish
Lists

48hs
wasted always
but hopefully
and possibly
with a happy ending

After the dream
Waking up feels....
Just feels....
The light from the street
Brighter than ever
The unanswered notes
Left for you and other ones
The awareness that if you forget
It does not mean others will
Trying to be direct in between
All the subjectiveness

And a simple, and subtle
knock on the door
tells reality is not anywhere else
but right here
Good Morning.

The begining was:
Writing
Disconnected but
Connected
Maybe more intense.

Now things have changed...

I want to...
Feel comfortable
Touch
Feel
Inhale
And smile

Sometimes I just
Don't understand
Why is it hard?
Why not change?

So I pick up my belongings,
After a long day of work
Smile to a colleague
Who sweetly offers a piece of her
Homemade cake...

...And walk home...

...Even if it may not feel like it...

today

Today I woke up
I did everything I normally do
I created a meal
I had breakfast
I worked

Today I realize I miss someone
I miss sharing mornings
and nights

I miss having someone home
When you come back
To kiss you hello and talk about your day

I miss preparing meals together
and having fun when something goes wrong


I dont know why I miss it
I dont know why I feel this way
Lonely, away from the world

Some years ago and all this was common
A routine
Maybe something trivial, not important

Today I miss someone to share
simple moments,
In a simple life....

What do you fish for?

Night. Walking the path to an unknown lounge. Slowly, she walks down the steps.
It is a small, downtown basement transformed into a nightclub. The poorly decorated walls,
with mirrors and semi-finished stone -colored wood murals, are ignored by the customers.
The red and white lights, dim.

She knows she should not be there. It is late. It isn't weekend. Tomorrow, another work day, today
another strong feeling of being miserable. She has repeatedly told herself how much she does not
like partying ( at least in the sense that most make of it). She does not like getting drunk and stupid; she does not enjoy most of the music; and in a cold day, she much rather stay home, drink hot chocolate and
read a book.

" Can't you just have fun?" Maybe… she whispers to the air. Nobody can be heard anyways. Loud,
irritating tunes blasting in people's ears. She sits and looks around. The sluggish bodies moving in contrast with the music. She asks herself: what is wrong? Have been born unfit for the reality. Her age, her attitude, attached to old virtues of happiness. Or maybe, she is just a rebel. More than any of these people scantily dressed to impress. Or maybe not, maybe she just does not fit in. Maybe she just shouldn't be there. Indeed, she knows she shouldn't.

She walks towards the improvised stage. The main performer is on centre-stage , with one dancer on his left and another on his right. Poorly, but a la 80s electronica, the DJ throws the beats and the mistuned singer sings. She feels a sad, burning, laughter sensation in her stomach. She much rather just walk away. But she can't. She came all the way here, she accepted her role, she accepted her need. She walks back to the sitting area. She cannot see but only hear the performer. She sits " no thanks, I don't really drink".

The past washes over her. It is possible to find someone like me. It is. Is it really? Is it that hard to just be happy without living this pseudo -youth life of partying, drinks and drugs? What is the problem of working, going home, cooking dinner, talking about your day, reading a book, watching a show? What is the problem of going out for dinner? To watch a play? A movie? A concert? What is wrong with getting together with friends to dine and chat? What is the problem with walking on a park, on the streets , around the block? Doesn't it all sound youthful as well? Or are all these things rated boring?

There are so many delightful hobbies and activities that human beings can be involved, she thought to herself, all of them entertaining and many enriching. You can improve your knowledge, your health and
have fun at the same time. But why, to so many people ( and a lot of those over 30) the idea of youthful fun is only related to nightclubs, drinks and easy sexual exchanges? Why is that to be young is to party on those terms? Why am I this boring? Why Am I feeling unhappy over here, when all these people are
physically similar to me, over 30, average looking, single. Why don't I adjust myself to this reality? A common reality shared by many.

She stands up. The second group is getting ready to go on stage. The DJ replays the pre-performance songs. Many leave the lounge, one by one. The cold wind hits her semi-bare back. They go outside to smoke. She stays. Waits. Watches the seconds pointer on her watch. It's 1.15am.1:15:38.1:15:40.1:15:46
1.16am. Soon, she says, soon this night will be over.

Summary of events

A day.

Start.
Everything running smoothly.
I look at your face and see.
Despair.

I feel what you feel.
You don't tell me.
I just know.

We bid brief farewell.
I hope things run as smooth as possible.
You just don't have any hope.
I take the bus.
You cross the street.

Middle.
1st ring. No answer.
2nd ring. No answer.
A message. Frustration.
20th ring. Yes?

We talk our frustrations away.
You are trying, you own side of the story.
I am trying. Part of my beliefs towards the role of friendship.

21st ring. No answer.
22nd.Hello.
Just try, you know? Just watch a movie or something.
( Something…)
I can't do it. I am not good at it.
It's okay. I will talk to you soon. Leave your phone on.
It will be on…like always…I am not sure if I will answer.

End.
Undefined.
I keep thinking on solutions.
On maybe leaving things the way they are.
On just leaving it. Now it's not my turn anymore.
But I cannot. I just cannot

I remember.
There was once.
The Lake.
A boy.
Car.
Drugs.

They come and go.
Some stay.
Some drift away.
To other shores.
Hidden spaces in the closet.

Quiet.
Pulsing.
Almost Bursting.
They need your help.
And I need them.

Ideas...

A new year...

It's February. 2010. As I scan older posts and realize the year 2009 was a blank, I wonder how meaningful that is. Lost souls, lost time, lost...connections. It is intense and honest the feeling I still hold. But with another year a new life can always start... sometimes you shouldn't move on, but sometimes you should. Welcome, 2010. It's February, Month 2, Chinese New Year, A NEW Year.