Who knows?

Take the time to make some sense
Of what you want to say
And cast your words away upon the waves
Sail them home with acquiesce
On a ship of hope today
And as they land upon the shore
Tell them not to fear no more
Say it loud and sing it proud
Today...

Again I lay down on my parents bed and curl up like a scared kid. The tv is on but I cover my face with my hands and wish a million things in a second in my own little inaccesible hidden corner. Everything seems posible there. Times goes really slow and sometimes it even stops. I can see things coming from a great distance. I can heal past and future wrongs in a thought. I can achieve what I never can.
Well... the tv is on, you know? I uncover my face and stay all curled up for some minutes that then turn into half hours thinking what else to do or how to make everything easier. But all in vane...

I wonder how it would be to be what you expect of me and if you've been in my shoes.
And I'm sorry I had to lie, I'd hate to dissapoint you.

------

And as for you my bloody counterpart,

With acquiese I write this words knowing that you will never read them but someday you'll know that my feelings of hate and love converge in you in blood and in circumstances which in pain I will resent in tears for a long time.

Will dance if they want to dance
Please brother take a chance
You know they're gonna go
Which way they wanna go
All we know is that we don't know
How it's gonna be
Please brother let it be
Life on the other hand won't let you understand
Why we're all part of the masterplan

Acotacion

The Illiterate of the 21st century will not be those who cannot read and write, but those who cannot learn, unlearn, and relearn.

Alvin Toffler

Launched to Earth

I walked across an empty land
I knew the pathway like the back of my hand
I felt the earth beneath my feet
Sat by the river and it made me complete
Oh simple thing where have you gone
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

I saw the girl holding a black cala on one hand and on the other a leashed doberman raving at the passing cars. She smiled at me and I looked down and stared at the straight lines of the sidewalk that suddenly became wider and wider. The earthly sidewalk spread out all the way to the river and as I looked up buildings were crumbling down falling into its components and banishing into a cold breeze from the condensed street lights to join the iron clouds up in the sky barely letting the sun in. The cars slowly being covered under the silky dry grass beneath my feet turned into hills, boulders and grey rocks. I found myself breathing next to daffodils and walking on mixed dirty snow and squashed earth. The breeze was combing my hair and some drops of icy water splashed on my cheeks and on my cold lips. They could barely understand my half closed wet eyes, my little smile and the bliss. And it snowed.
A second later a bump at 140 and a blue tear from the corner of my eye burnt it all into a flammable raging fire. And it hit me again.

This could be the end of everything

So why don't we go

Somewhere only we know?

To Self-Think

Record your memories, hold on to the details that were never important and exceed your goodness to convince the world of your most sweet mind. And I will forget why and cloudy will my mind be, coming to conclusions over conclusions and never arrive to a final statement. It is weary but it's my condition. Relentless, aesthetic, discreet.
Some may notice it at their regret but it was always there and will always be. This ill-mannered bliss clings on others feellings unnoticed till found creating the repulsion never wished. In selfishness everything fits.
I know now that is my perdition: To self-think.

Entropic behavior

I noticed the bluish scar was still open and black bleeds out. Useless still becomes me and once again I wish and regret and promise and isolate defying my persistence. Who knew I could make use of such leveraged gift?

This quick foray just asserts my cynical ethic stained in black and my pragmatic willingness to never finish up my endless great plans. It has become ironically possible to restrain my loathed little place still prowling in my imagination awaiting for the right colorless moment when home feels safe and my temporal amnesia takes effect. Till then the plans once so meticulously built become again sarcastically reachable.
But its alright, as chaotic as it may be, its entropy will one day cease against my persistence and hopefully persuasive I will finally complete my tasks and give the scar its due.

Don't want to hear about it
Every single one's got a story to tell
Everyone knows about it
From the Queen of England to the hounds of hell

And if I catch it coming back my way
I'm gonna serve it to you
And that aint what you want to hear
But that's what I'll do
And the feeling coming from my bones
Sayz find a home