Acceptance

What are the possibilities of one accepting oneself?
I guess it is impossible not to accept this fact, after all we live with "ourselves" each day of our lives, so we are pretty much stuck with it.
Accepting the good and the bad is the best way to start enjoying the rest of our life.
We will never be perfect but are not all that bad.
We are what we can be.
We will never please the lot.
We will never be hated by everyone.
So, I guess that somewhere there must be someone who likes me, just that somewhere, besides my friends who already have my love, there must be someone else who will deserve this love.
It is not a perfect love
It is not all that bad.
I guess if I accept that I have love to give and to receive the possibilities in life are charming.
Mind you... that despite the fact that I too hurt, I am not keen on going back on that avenue again.
Even though, I am sure that new characters will trick me, just like the old ones did.
I guess I always want to believe that someone is good enough to have all of me...
Much like that sweet sweet song.

All of me,
Take all of me
Can't you see
That I am no good without you...

So, I accept this!
Do you?

Miracle

Perchance miracles are wanted.
Tired of anxiety and disconfort, but this does not come as a surprise.
I just need will.
Tired of all there is to do, and the lack of will to it.
The Flashbacks have returned, I am frequently there
The beach
The city walls
The smile
The embrace

I am cursed with memories
I am cursed with low will
I am blessed with everything else.

Friends

I don't think I have ever told you.
But I am too lucky to have the friends that I have.
Someone once told me, that we attract to our lives the people we want.
I have no idea of what I wanted for my life.
After thirty something years, I know I like having these people, my friends in my life.
Some are near, some are far, but all remain important for me.
I do not remember this often and that is a shame because my friends give me so much and ask so little.
I have had my share of illusions and disillusions.
I guess that in my core the light that draw these people near me, never faded and they kept on seeing the light that shines in me that somehow keeps them close, watchful, sharing their adventures and caring for me own.
I guess that soon enough it is time to give them more and more adventures.
I think it is high time for me to start living my life again.
I have been tired of all the drain that these past months had on me.
I was pulled inside out. I gave myself to quickly to a fantasy that was not there.
My friends showed me back the route, back into myself, away from my illusion.
I do not regret the past, I just regret the pain. it took much more than what i wished I could have had.

Just like Jack...

What have I done?
What have I done?
How could I be so blind?
All is lost, where was I?
Spoiled all, spoiled all
Everything's gone all wrong

What have I done?
What have I done?
Find a deep cave to hide in
In a million years they'll find me
Only dust and a plaque
That reads, "Here Lies Poor Old Jack"

But I never intended all this madness, never
And nobody really understood, how could they?
That all I ever wanted was to bring them something great
Why does nothing ever turn out like it should?

Well, what the heck, I went and did my best
And, by God, I really tasted something swell
(that's right)
And for a moment, why, I even touched the sky
And at least I left some stories they can tell, I did

And for the first time since I don't remember when
I felt just like my aold bony self again
And I, Jack, the Pumpkin King
That's right, I am the Pumpkin King, ha, ha, ha

And I just can't wait until next Halloween
'Cause I've got some new ideas
that will really make them scream
And, by God I'm really gonna give it all my might
Uh oh, I hope there's still time to set things right

A letter for Love

I wish i know how to love you.
I wish I know how to let you know this love.
I wish that the beauty of the thoughts I have for you could somehow be translated into words.
I wish that poetry to me as so natural as the beauty of your eyes, your skin, your heart, your soul is to me.
I wish that I could know you better than what I do.
I wish that you could know me better than you grant yourself to do.
I wish to stop a pain that has no true solution but to let it pass as all things do in time.
I wish that frustration was not the feeling that I associated to you.
I wish that the deserving love, that we too should have, could be between us.
I wish I would not speak so much and showed so much more.
I wish that my inspiration could be your joy.
I wish that your joy could be my joy
I wish that the symphony of thoughts that you inspire in me could be translated into the symphony of actions that would unite us.
I wish that to get to love you, I would not need to suffer so.
I wish this feeling could be shared and not stollen.
I wish that this was no illusion but instead a reality
I wish that there was no rejection but acepting.
I wish that you were brave to hear me out at least one time.
I wish my timming was better, instead of too early or too late.
I wish I had stayed quiet in the moments I spoke too much.
I wish I had said the right words when they were needed to be listen.
I wish I knew
I wish I did
I wish I was
The only thing I should be glad is that I know that at least I am.
For all this love has no reward if it is to be spent alone.
These are the only rewards I get.
My muse, you inspired me so.
I do not even know you anymore.
Afraid to be me, I am constantly shaping me.
Perchance one day, I will be just me, and who knows maybe then, you will love me.
But more importantly, maybe on that day, I will love me regardlessly

The bitter-sweet caress of obsession

"I hate myself and I want to die"
I believe that Kurt Cobain wrote something like this.
I have no idea what drives a man to loath so much his own personna to a state of uter repulse for what he is.

There was a time, maybe not so long ago, maybe not even passed, where I too was too obsessed for what certain people though of me.
I would grant them a power they were not even aware they had.
I called it love and assumed that it was the most profound love I ever had felt.
In fact the power was that of rejection and obsession.
It is simple, I would first being to long for the person and then when I would manifest my desire for the person, the person would show her lack of interest for my feelings, and that would make me feel quite upset and sad. I had such an unrealistic perspective of my wonderful qualities that it was unbareable to believe why would anyone would refuse to be with me, for a talk, to get to know me.
I would then believe that these people would know something that I do not know, something about me.
And I would start thinking of what was the view they had of me.
This was the view I was starting to have of myself.
Now this is the part that it is real sick about this all ordeal, I have no idea of what their idea is of me, all I have is my conception of what their idea must be of me. So I would become obsessed about  my lack of value. And this would be the value I would grant myself.
It is so annoying to feel myself esteem so destroyed by a figment of my own imagination.
My little obsessions consume me. They make me think that I can find love here and there, and then when it is all happening in my head, they make me think that I have nothing worth.
These days, I find it easier to put it here, the mad feelings of this character of mine.
I am growing tired of talking about them to my friends.
Several reasons for this.
1) Here is safely public. I tell it to the world
2) I repeat myself too much, on my negative rumblings
3) i have no real-life problems, i only have real-illusion  problems
4) What is my worth?

And so I feed the illusion of obsession.
I am so tired of this.
This obsession is so lonley at times.
It sufocates me.

If at first you do not succeed

I guess, I will never learn.
I always try the same old corners, where I know there is no chance of finding the answer that I am convinced is there.
SO I TRY, over and over again until I realize that there is no answer for me there.
WHY DO I GO THERE OVER AND OVER AGAIN?
Why do I chase old ghosts, and ghosts that could have been?

The truth?

I want to believe.
I dream of what could be, only to realize that it is really only a dream.
The love I think that could be is only happening in my head.
If it is only happening here, in my head, where will I find the one I share my mind with.
Is my mind a place where someone would feel comfortable?

These misconceptions of the world annoy me, they are tiresome, because the clash of real and dream depress me.
When will I dream something that is really, something that can actually be?
I try over and over.
But my dream is never real.
Why?
Because I give to the other, the responsibility of making it happen, but they do not know  my dream, so they have no idea of what to do.
As such, reality will always have dominion over my dream.

Still, I try.
Hoping that someone, someday, will care that I care.

Tic Tac - the sand of time

Its madness.
I can hear the ticking of the digital clock in the sound studio.
The pressure of the time to deliver all that I must, is giving me sound aluccinations.
What is it about this strange twist of time, that makes me feel trapped into an hourglass maze, as if I have no way of coming out.
According to the experts on labyrinth I should always turn the same way and eventually I will get out.
The sound tics and tics.
Is there an way out?
Its madness.
The silent expression of a shout is muting me.
Must go on, as does each grain that passes.