Black Cloth on a Mirror

There once was a russian jeweler who had a wife and a beautiful daughter.
He lived a full life having travelled to many parts of his country, settling eventually in a young city in the heart of Russia.
He was not a simple man or an easy one. He was one of those kinds of persons who had his personal demons to deal with.
One day he lost his ultimate battle with a disease that took him, far too early from his family.
The daughter only found out of her fathers ill fate, when she got home and saw a black cloth covering the mirror.
It is not certain if part of her soul died on that day with her father, as she had no chance to say goodbye to him or make mends.
Perchance her true love died on that day, with all that was left to say. It is far more difficult to keep a pain unresolved within from someone with whom we can not clear the truth.
So why say goodbyes?, the daughter thought.
Perchance the jeweler would wonder about to keep the wife and the daughter safe.

I believe that somehow, when someone endures such a strong and deep pain, a part of the soul shuts down, and it is almost impossible to wake up this part again. The black cloth hides what cannot be seen.
The emotions are stollen and are never back again.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas


This has been a particularly difficult year.
Honestly the circumstances have been some of the best I could possibly wished for, but my attitude towards them have been the worst I could possibly have.
A certain sadness haunts me again as a memento from some of the best moments I had, that are now gone.
It is a terrible feeling.
Yesterday, I had a wonderful Christmas eve dinner with my family. For a moment I sooth my pain, my sadness. I was happy.
Why do I let myself be haunted by a past that had the premise of a future imperfect, but was lived as the only future I could wish for.
I know now that it was a self-fed illusion that quickly turned into a delusion.
I thought that by hiding myself in a sea of friends, new and old, I would drawn this pain beyond its reach on me. Another illusion it seems.

I want to move on.
I want to turn the page
I want to stop feeling like a reject

I know that I have friends and family that cherish my company and enjoy the moments that they have with me... but they all seem to pale to comparison with the few rejections I had to endure this year, that feel like I was the lowest of low. It is a lie. I am much more.
But tell that too my feelings.

It is a far sadder Christmas within my soul than it seems because I have not been able to release myself from the ghosts that haunt me.

The best gift I could possibly get, would be to release myself from this crippling pain that prevents me from thinking and feeling as full person again, instead of this shredded soul that presents to you in the form of unhappy words.

So, if I say Merry Christmas, I say it for you but most of all I wish it for me, this day and all the others that follow.
 

Validation

Some believe that in order to find fulfillment you will need the recognition of the others.
I do not know what my case is, but I feel that in many situations of my life I need some kind of validation by other people in other to fill my heart.
I think that some friends might disagree on this take, saying that it puts me in a position of dependence in regards to my well being - at least my mental well being.
I believe that we are social creatures. It is not easy for every one to live in isolation. It takes a special kind of creature to pull that off.
I realize that for love too, I need the validation of the person that I love.
It can not be anyone... it must be that one.

"Please don't let me make, the same mistake again"
Moby

Dar de beber à dor // sooth the pain

Foi no Domingo passado que passei
À casa onde vivia a Mariquinhas
Mas está tudo tão mudado
que não vi em nenhum lado
as tais janelas que tinham tabuinhas.

It was last Sunday that I went
To the house where Mariquinhas lived
But everything is so changed
That I couldn't see anywhere
Those windows had lost their decorations.

Because it is good to miss and remember

A bit of spite

I hate know it alls.
I hate this about me, when I talk as if I own the reason.
I particulary dislike this when people close to me make remarks as if they own the reason.
If they think this, why are they so close.
Today, right now, I feel uterly alone.
Not to worry dear ones. It is just a phase.
Most likely it is my angry perspective.
The russian tell me that is my idea of the things
The canadian tell me that I have no self-esteem
The portuguese say I can't be trust or that I am too impulsive.
I wish I could be an ermite to escape from it all.
No wonder i am always running away
But this time alas, no one wants to give me safe passage.
"what have I done, what have I done,
find a big cave to hide in,
in a million years they'll find me,
only dust,
and a plaque, that reads here lies poor old" Carlos

I am mad as hell.
Maybe I should find confort in some alone time.
Is there any comfort in that!?

God, I really don't know what do with myself.
Living as an automatic, I am not really caring much for what lies ahead.

That's it .

Drops of hope

It does not matter the effort one puts into achieving the dream, if the dream has no purpose.
I think that I am a far better man than what I really think I am.
My life is surrounded with great expectations. Expectations that I create.
I shoud expect nothing more but to see the invisible hope.
I cling myself to what I dreamnt will come true.
No one can actually know what might come, if we think about the better tomorrows.
The reality is not forged by reason, instead it is perceived by emotion, which in the end, blurs all that we see.
It does not matter much if you do not understand me.
I do not write this for you as much as I write it to spite my lingering pain out into the paper.
I think I have the right, for once in my life, to exhale my fury, even if I do in the form of insolent words that pour from my thoughts without any discipline of grammar.
These thoughts that are so consumed by an unknow possibility of a better ... (something).
I never exactly know what can be better. i only know I always what can be better.
Are you the better part?
Were you the better part?
Or as the poem goes... the best is yet to come.
and is that in this life time?
Is there another life-time.

I feel sometimes that I talking like as if  was playing a piano in an empty room.
Debussy and the sea never sounded better you will see. Oh the bergamesque.

The madness of a hope not yet returned, makes me drop day by day, a feeling of unknown.

Gosh, is there something that I do know.
I act so much from impulse, that I do not dare tap into what dcould hve happened if my courage was stronger.
Perchance I am to convinced
Maybe I am just a scared child, to affraid to leave the blankets when I woke up in the morning.
But luck protects the foolish and little children with a certain enterprise.

I will not dwell further into this mad house.
You me, it does not matter, you see.
What matters is what will be.

"When I was just a little boy, I asked my mother what will I be
Que sera sera, whatever will be, will be"

And so the day goes on with just one more once of hope, for whatever dreams may come.
I will forever live in the realm of dreams and platitudes to be rejected by the godess of reason.
If only they knew that the bridge between our two worlds leads to the fulfillment of the heart.

Will

"Knowing the path and walking the path are two different things"

In my case I feel that I walk the path without actually having a specific destination point.
I always put my faith in those that seem to be good sentinels of this universe to provide me a safe haven to rest my weary soul.
Alas, my perspective about such people is always flawed because it is based on their perfect nature.
Nature is imperfect in all its perspective perfection.
Likewise people are imperfect and to assume that they have a quality that makes them imprevious to error, is an error in its own.

Lately,  I have put my faith in seduction
I seduce no one.
All those that I attract stay because I give them something they want to keep.
They are unwilling to give something back.
This is not true, I am not able to give them the space they need to think and feel that they should give something.
I guess I am always too eager, too anxious to drink the potion, that keeps me captive.

When rejection ensues, the pain is too much to bear.. I do not wish it.
Currently, I do not have it.
What I have is a special kind of loneliness, that acts me on perception, rather than real life.
After all, my friends have been there for me.
Unfortunately, I tend to think about what I am missing, rather than what I am having.

all this is to say, that I have been losing my will.
I truly have little idea of what to do.
I have something to do, and no idea how to do it, why should I do it (to get a degree - is that reason enough? - to get the recognition - is that futile?)

I have so much going on for me right now, that it is madness to think about anything else.
But still, I have the fight of the heart between the ghost of christmas past vers the ghost of the christmas future (the past will not return, and the future seems more and more distant)
My focus for other matters is lost.
So, what should I do?
Now, i sleep
Tomorrow, I will find my will.

Saturday 1715

All is quiet, all is still.
The thoughts gather inside my head to form an idea, to evolve into an action and perchance to make a difference.
It is saturday in a mild december evening. The universe has many things happening at the same time.
But here in this corner, it is all quiet, it is all still.
I dare noto change the balance of things.
I am here, all quiet, completely still

Life here

"There are [things] I will remember all my life"

The people I have met in my travels surely will inhabit my memories until the last one deserts me, just before I enter oblivion.
The lovers, the friends, the knowns and unknowns.

I wonder, I do not grasp the value they have in my life.
Why do I linger in one or another the importance of myself?
It is sad actually to live according to the expectations have of us.
This makes us forget, ironically, of that which matters the most
- our self resolvement
The hability to do what we really want, instead of what will please others, even if it hurts us in the end.
But I keep being the lacky that wants everyone around to be pleased, even if I have to be the jester to get a laugh out of everyone.

Life here is sad
Life here is glad.

I HAVE MORE VALUE THAN I KNOW
I feel nothing, except contempt for the one who writes

Family

At the end of the day, family is a fundamental stone of the life castel that one wants to build.
I have a fairly sized family that helps me in many different ways.
I could tell about them, but I don't think you would understand the full grasp of my unique family.
Do not get my wrong, I don't think that just my family is unique.
Mine is particulary unique because its mine. Each one should have its unique family, but that's their business.
Fortunately my own is blessed with a nice quantity of healthy madness that makes up for some of the best moments.
I love them because with all their flaws and qualities, they accept my flaws and qualities aswell.
And so I am fine.

Still mad about you

There are those who believe that the best medicine to curing an illed love break-up is to move on and let time do its thing.
I like to every now and again write about what is going through my mind and heart.
This feable heart that for a couple of months have been struggling with a devastating anxiety, the likes I have not had in a very long time.
Still, this is part of a growing process.

I know that I completely and maddly fall in love for someone who was very far away.
I did my best to please her and to make her happy.
I think I was successful during a period.
Unfortunately, I lost track of things, and I started to worry too much, for all that was out of my control.
The rejection soon followed and all my sanity collapsed.
If there is one thing I could regret, but I am powerless to change, would be to have a real talk... and really figure out, what could have been done.
Would the visit, bring clarity or would it just add pain?
It is pointless now... my messages have no response, and my presence is unwanted.
Much like that Alanis song, I am uninvited.
The good news, is that my team of new and old friends work around the clock to restore my world.
It is not easy, because, I still linger to love I once had.
It was glorious... a series of wonderful memories that I intend to cherish, and with god's premission and will, I would do anything to recover, rebuilt, cherish and make it worth while.
but as the story goes.... it takes two to tango.
For now I dance alone

As a final thought: I wish you the most profound happiness you can master.
To all the people I have encountered in my travels I wish that they have the chance of at least one day, feel the passion, the stamina, the inspiration, that I had in those wonderful months.
They were worth it. I felt it once, and I will feel it again.
And my world moves on.

To my distant love...may she forgive my words. They are all that I have, and they are all that I give.
Until we meet again, in a sweet memory.

C

What makes me anxious

Sometimes I am having a normal quiet day and some actions, thoughts or events can change my feeling.

I read somewhere that most likely what is changing is my perspective on the matter.

I wonder.

Today I was playing with the Weather Channel app and I happened to study the weather for a special place from far beyond.
I was electrified with anxiety and sad emotion when I saw the real temperature.

I do not like to lose control like this. To feel the deep pain of anxiety.

So a message, a phone call, a letter, a symbol, an icon...

Everything that triggers a certain memory is enough.

Probably at this time no one can actually understand my pain.

My pain comes from within. It is a self-triggered emotion that is connected to the senses.
A music, a word, a smell, all these are enough to remind me of what dreams once came.

They were wonderful.
I had a dream for the future.
A future utopia, that was only an utopia because it was not shared.

Now I feel that I am drawning in my own madness, as I realized that I was nothing more than a  whim.
A fancy fad in someone's life, and when the time was right, it was so simple to just dismiss me as an annoying fly, that entered through the window, on a hot summer's afternoon.

The problem here is perception. Not even the above perception is correct.
Furthermore, the problem arrises from the perception of perception.

Communcation halted, assumptions were made, no truth was ever confirmed.
Each one kept a distorted image of the other.
I feel that every one is creating pictures of everyone. Are they any more true than the ones I had?

And why do these memories linger in me?
Why can't I be left alone with my feelings?

And why do I need to expose this intimacy into public.
Perchance I need to feel the attention of a certain public, of the right public, of the one who shall never read.

I remember the movie: "The Secretary".
A sado-masochist relationship, that ended with the girl grabbing herself to a table for 3 days without eating, sleeping, or moving, until she could get the attention of her lover.

She made the ultimate subjugation, the extreme proof of affection.

From this thought, I immediately jump to the thought that there is not enough love in anyone to make anyone else fall in love for them.
It does not happen like that. It is a game of chance, you either have it or don't. So we all pretty much work like light switches.

What happens is, when we fall in love is to buy a whole lot of pain if the one we love rejects us.
And from all that rejection derives the anxiety, the fear, the inability to face the world with that, once forgotten, smile of the first day, when we kissed "like we invented it".

These are my anxieties and I want them out.

Dismay

"And if you are dismayed, be cheerful now."

For the past few months, I have been rather sad and blue.
I guess I have been blaming it on my ill luck with what I thought was my fate.
Turn out the fate is constantly being written by us with every choice we make.

Choices are much like a process of communication, at least, in the light of pragmatic of communication, which states that it is impossible not to communicate.
Everyone is always communicating, even by the act of not saying or expressing anything, your are communicating just that, your wish not to be apart of something. It is therefore a process of choice.

For a period I decided to fight my ill fate, and refuse the facts as they were.
Most possibly I do not understand neither the facts nor the actions that lead to the consequences.
I can speculate
I can wonder about it.

I realized that it does not matter, because I will never know the real reason.
That door is shut, from the other side, on the grounds of mercy, or pity, or sympathy, or some kind of extraodinary excuse that may clear the conscience of those who believe in such way of behaving.

The incredible is dismay of my part is the illusion of friendship, that apparently is impossible to hold.
I do not kid myself, I mean nothing more than a ill memory.
Where us from myside I am all memory... by a mere blink of the eyes.

The magic is that I am stronger in my heart
I believe
and I do.

so, I believe that I can finally overcome the dismay

Selfish

Today I find out, once again about selfishness.
It turns out that this hurts too.
I think that I also am to blame for this feeling.
Once in a while everybody is.
At times it is vital to our survival.
I just feel that when it is felt to harm others, that is when the problem arises.
When you think of yourself, thinking that your actions are more important than anyone elses, that is when the problem arises.
Because people have a lot of difficult seeing within.

As do I...

Ya tebya lyubylyu

On the day, I was left away
Ya tebya lyubylyu
was all i had to say.

But now, I can say it, over and over,
and my echos will not reach the furthest corners of the Ob river.

I can stay lingering in trail of tears that I left from Zagreb to this day,
but this trail will only lead me to the past where I will find nothing but pain.
The future seems incomplete,
but appearance is the game of ill perspective.

How I wish I could power up reality with a fresh new feeling
That somehow would make my beloved, believe, accept and feel that i really mean
"Ya tebya lyubylyu"

How to reach, those who ignore any messages in the bottle.
How to overcome the contempt of others.
How to dwell, in the bittersweet reality of a freedom that I had not invisioned.
Why not linger in the passion jail, that promised me so much and granted me so little.
Where did I go so wrong....
Lord I must have been blind, to the truth that was laid before me.

I write these, confessions, to any eager eyes that my like to read, upon this.
Whatever they might infere is there business.
This is an empty chapter of my life, that I accepted with disbelief.

This dream may not come, but others, surely will.
Meanwhile, ya tebya lyubylyu, is all I have to say, to the one, who does not want to read, hear or see.
So... perchance to empathize.
oh well...

Egmont

I do not believe that anyone notices what is going on.
I talk about it.
I do call for attention, but no one is really paying attention.
I am the boy who cried for wolf.
Wolf being the mare that consumed my heart, and left me strandef on an island of despair.
And still, I do believe.

How can this be?
How can one go from one point of the spectre to the other.
I was once a better man and now I am a nothing man.
Most probable reasons.
I was too far
I was too much of a crying baby
I was too obsessed

Or quite simply
She was not that in to you.
And the pain lingers
How it lingers.
Less it is true
But I do feel like the best joke of the summer.
A proper prank to a fool who still believes in love.
Sad thing is, I am not sure who the biggest fool in this game was.
I wanted the sky, and I was offered an illusion of heaven.
When the plane took off, all I had was my person hell.
The demons of egmont had followed me
They are still with me, less powerful, perchance tired.

I am a open heart.
Begging for some onces of attention.
And in the end... who do I see?
Ghosts from Christmas past.
I dread to think of what the Christmas future may bring as I have no notion of how to deal with my Christmas Present.

Nonetheless.... some progress as been made.
I can now live.
I hate the feeling of rejection and nothingness that is left behind.
Oh well... f*ck everyhing... I gave myself
and forgot to love me instead.

The world is definetly for the selfish bastards... they get the girls, because they are so into themselves.
The ones that give love, get shit...

Ah egmont, thank you for all the misery you left at my doorstep... one day, perchance I will have it all clean, until I can trust again... and be spitted in the heart like the past

These tears , how they like to simply rolll down.

Leave me alone spirit... take the better memories of me, and the worst too.
I wish peace
I hate the feeling
It takes my substance
All I want is oblivion...
Eternal ignorant bliss, that clears alll
What is the point of remembering pain that comes back everyday like a shoreline tempest

To be.... someone new

Sunday, after the war

The soft morning breeze of a golden autumn day, reminds me the importance of being alive.
The gentle leafs that still hold on to the trees underline the importance of grabbing to the things one believe.
It is so beautiful to be able to hold on to what we believe... to really have a plan that goes beyond the mere circumstances of the day.
I imagine how many people shatter their dreams on a daily basis due to their surroundings, to the people whom they had deposit their confidence, and now for  some reason they are unable to move forward to what they had dream.

This is the way the world lives

This is the way the world lives...
This is the way the world lives...
This is the way the world lives...

The world is by far better than we make of it
The world as it was, it had so much possibilities
And then one day, we were born...

The way we treat the world, is much like we treat each other.
Some of us are passionate enough to give it love,  others just don't care and assume it is far better to ignore the facts than to face them.
The world lives with its fate alone

And then there was me...

To you, 

The wanderers of this world, who inadvertently come across this page, know this.

I am, but a shadow of a man.

A Samson without hair.

A king without queen

A fool with a bag of illusions.

A sadman with memories

Not too long ago, I thrown a long rope that landed way  beyond the Ural Mountains.

For sometime, it was being hold by someone who dreamt of a better tomorrow.

Someone who was willing to believe.

But one day, reality kicked in... and I was left alone.

Desperate I tried to find the path of the rope to find the whereabouts, but the rope was loose.

No one was holding it on the other side

No one was there to hold it.

To make the matter worse, a thick and dark fog plummet on the earth, leaving me clueless of where to go.

I pulled the rope, and the rope came, little by little, it came.

There was no point following the rope, all I could do now, was pull it.

And then, there was only me, pulling the rope, with each pull I was taking down memory by memory. 

For each memory I was stabbing my my heart.

It is a heart breaking moment.

For in that person, I saw the smile that nurtured my spirit.

A spirit that now fades... longing to see the path to happiness.

But,

All I see is the fog, and all I have is a rope, that I pull everyday, in the hope that someone will catch it.

In the dark, in the cold, for now, there is only me and my rope.

With each loose I give it, I unwind a memory and I feel a hole with tears.

We'll meet again...

Don't know where, don't know when...

But for now, there is only me, pulling the rope.

Reality of a post-apocalyptic event

I believe, much like Mr. Orzabal and Mr. Smith, that when the hurting and the pain has gone, I will be strong.

I guess, I made the imprudence of believing too much in what my wishes were telling me, that I never took the time to have a reality check.
It would not be a problem if I was still living in dream land.
The bad thing about living the nexus is following back to cold truth...

I expect nothing more from the dream.
Now I am on damage control.

The odd thing is that apparently everything is fine.
Everyone is where they are suppose to be.

But the feelings are all wrong.
There is no really flavour any more.

I feel like someone took my senses.
The world is colourless, tasteless, scentless, without any interesting mellodies and only bland touches.

My memories keep attacking my conscience.
I am going back in time frequentely, pushed by the stimuli of now.

The future seems promising if I can accept my present.

I am still rebuilding kheops.
Fortunately my team is still available to help me restore the key sectors that comprise the soul and body of my ship.
I need find a map again, otherwise I will stay stranded in the grey wasteland.

She is gone.
An echo in the eternity, that only a couple of months ago was so present.
A true gift to my life, that is totally lost...
when in fact it was never mine to begin.

When i  learned that nothing belongs to me, i can accept that life is what it is, and just accept the experience for the experience, without any expectation or remorse for the circumstances.

Now I just want the pain to be over.
One day... the reality of this world, will be bright

and the beat goes on

Softly, I realize that it is now over.
I still wonder sometimes, what could have happenede if I had faced my fears and just took the chance to win her back.
The dream of that, perchance to happen, will forever haunt me with the strange felling of : what if?
But my history continues.
This was one of the most marking chapters of my existence.
A chapter that I was willing to do whatever it took, for another piece of heaven, but I was unsuccessful in persuading my partner in believing that there was a sense of a common fate.
The fate will determine what will be common.
I would take her back in a heart beat if the universe would grant me so.
But the adjustment bureau took all the steps necessary to ensure that she will follow her Russian fate and I will follow my own.
The beat will definetely go on...and I remain waiting.

To the one who loved me

Hello!

One day, you made me believe that happiness was just around the corner.
You were on that corner and smiled at me, as it I was the best vision you had.
You made me believe that I could fall and you would be there to catch me.
I fell for you and you let me drop life an old memory that no value.

Once someone told me that you were no more to me than an illusion and as such I had no real perception of you. However, my happiest memories were given by the real you. A real person who was there, who cherished my company.

For a moment, I was a god of emotion, of a beautiful emotion called love.
And when I let you in, you took it with you and throw it of a cliff, dismissing all that was being built.
Why?
There isn't any true explanation for what makes a love switch on or switch off, I guess the truthfulness of it all is that one day, perchance i dreamt of a better you and you decided to believe more in the illusion of the worse vision  you had of me.
Why not cherish the reality you had experience of me.

It is by far, easier to escape into the illusion than to deal with reality.
To keep it away, instead of being strong and face it together.

The notion of weak and strong is so relative, that one may appear the strong one, and ignore the weakness of his feelings and avoid to confront the truth.

I still believe, but i guess I never had you at hello! Even when I was your "better man".
The reality of today is grim and you are forever away from my possibilities.
You closed the door, because I had put so much over your shoulders.
I could see farther because I stood over the shoulders of a giant like you and knew that we could go far.
But when it was time to walk, I was left alone.

It is hard to recon that now.
I am a shadow of the person i once was.
In all good faith, I can say that this is just my eclipse and that I will rise one day, unfortunately it will not be with you by my side.

With my pain and resentment all I can wish you is the best for you and hopefully you may never endure the emptiness you left behind.

Thank you for the fond memories.
Please if you have any power left, please take away my sorrow and believe that love is for everyone, but this one was for you and you alone.

As sensitive as an elephant in a china store

Such is the care that certain people have for other people, that they hear other people's stories with the same blaze attitude they would give to anyone would be rambling about small talk, like the weather, or the recipe for a new type of vegetarian lasagna
What is about our careless ways that we could have someone crying for food in front of us and we just walk with a simple neglect? Please take this awful person in front of me, so that I might carry one sipping my bourbon.

If i was to tell you the most intimacy of intimacy would you dare for one to neglect me?
What does it take to captivate people's attention these days?

Nothing.
People care for themselves.
They want to be alone with their own lives.
Please don't bother me with the details of your life, specially if we are talking about your feelings.
It is boring.
The world is for the strong of heart and soul. People do not need to hear about your problems.
We must solve the company's problems.
It does not matter if you are hurting. The system is the main.
But if we are the system, what happens when the parts of the system start to collapse?
They are replaced until the identity of the system is replaced not by the people who make up the social system, but by the heartless rules that we take for granted.

Such is the care that certain people have for other people, that it seems that we all live in a fragile world where an elephant is left loose rumbling inside a china store.

The carnivale is over

This week, my dream was shattered!
The good news is that it was a dream and not reality!
The bad news is that my reality was being shaped to fit that dream.

I am my own weakness.
I want to overcome this
I want to reach up and kiss the sky.
I want to believe that I can be good again.

I am alone with my illusions now.
Why did she believe in the illusion she had of me, and not the wonderful reality we had of eachother.

This fantasy
This carnivale is over.
Life goes on, now...

Outside
The storm clouds gathering,
Moved silently along the dusty boulevard.
Where flowers turning crane their fragile necks
So they can in turn
Reach up and kiss the sky.
They are driven by a strange desire
Unseen by the human eye
Someone is calling.
I remember when you held my hand
In the park we would play when the circus came to town.
Look! Over here.
Outside
The circus gathering
Moved silently along the rainswept boulevard.
The procession moved on the shouting is over
The fabulous freaks are leaving town.
They are driven by a strange desire
Unseen by the human eye.
The carnival is over
We sat and watched
As the moon rose again
For the very first time.

Perchance to be

Ah yes!

To be!

What could I possibly be?
Me for one!

But, who am I?
Where are all of the answers that make up for the questions that I have been posing for the past thirty-something years.
I guess there are no better answers than the ones I look for in my heart.
Still, my heart wishes to be a temple of love and instead it has become a tomb of grief.

Not what I wish to be!
I want to be that party where every body is invited and they all look forward for the upcoming occasion.
Still, a long the way, I lost some track on how to organize myself as a party.
I dwell too much on the limitations of a situation, rather than appreciating the abilities that I have acquired for the past years.
Perchance I wanted to be more at this point.

True.
I wanted to be better than most and slightly less vain than all.

Wrong.
Is my attitude towards life.
To covet what is not mine.
I guess that I wonder too many times on what things may come, without actually enjoying the beauty that stands before me.
I eagerly wait for the end of days.
Not of life
Not of the world
But the end of days that I thought were the right ones for me.

I get no satisfaction any more.
I have cursed the landed that allowed me to experience a bit of heaven and a glimpse of hell.
It is curious, however, that I had 2 weeks of heaven and 12 hours of hell at that pearl in the Adriatic sea, and the moments that linger the most are the 12 hours.
They linger in such way that I look at the map and I shiver from the suffering it inflicted on my permeable soul.
The reason why it still lingers in my heart, is that I gathered 2 weeks of fuel, and it seems unlimited.

Imagine if you had a tank in your car so big, that you could fill it for 2 weeks without stop.
How many kilometres would you travel until you ran out of fuel?
In my perspective I have a couple of months ahead of non-stop travelling until the fuel of love runs out.
Meanwhile, I perchance redefine my character.
Alas, I do not appreciate what I see.
I want more.
Could I possibly get it?
what I want it is not mine to claim, nor mine to demand for.

What I want lies in the will of another.
Someone who remains silent.
Who fails to  see the importance of sharing.
Not an hello, but rather feelings in the farm of attitudes or words.
So is the loneliness of the moment.

What am I ?

I am the lonely passenger of the empty train heading to Siberia, not knowing what dreams may come, but realizing that possibly dreams are just to give you a hint, and not to be literally lived.
I am the one, who would jump out of a plane for love
but instead got a I don't know.

I always thought I deserved much more than a I don't know.
In my feelings I knew that I could get a yes I do.
But possibly I have burnt so many souls in my travels that I guess that now is my time to taste the poison.

Paradise was good.
But the hell unfortunately stings like a bitch and abandons me rarely.

You know what I want?
Perchance to be
Happy!

Great Expectations

I believe that one of my worst problems is to expect to much from people, only to be disappointed by the short commings.
I now think that the problem is not with the people with whom I deposit my great expectations, the problem is in fact with the high hopes I put in them.
It is not their problem that I expect so much from them.
The problem in fact lies in my want to have them respond in such a given way.

If I expect to hear the words I love you and they do not come it does not mean that I am not loved, it just means that the person did not feel like saying it, never though of saying, it was not necessary to convey the words to express such feeling.

I think the best lesson I have learned is not to expect anything from anybody and just accept with gratitude whatever the people feel like sharing.
Because there is no greater regret than to wait for that which may never come.
I don't want to wait no more
I do not want to have any further expectations.
I just want to enjoy the moment that I have.
How do I do it!!!!!!!!?

Immortal memory

I write to immortalize my memories.
I write to leave a trail behind.
My memories are a record of what i have done.
Not all good and not all bad, but they remain as the most intimate account of my actions.
In some moments these, my memories, are the most profund connection with my sense of being that I have.
I wish, so deeply, to look back and smile upon what I have done and face the path ahead of me with such eagerness that the world would have a memory of me.
I keep on living, saving memories day by day as the most precious moments of my existence.
And so I will keep my immortal memory.

Surrender to Love

The other day I had quite a revelation with my truely admirable friend Adam. I bring you a excerpt of our conversation, which might help those in dire straits for the woman they love, to hopefully find some comfort and illumination in dealing with the inner ill part.

Adam: ..."You are in love with a woman who wants to be with you!

But you have no reason to believe that things will sour, but by dreading it, you are causing you both  pain.
Adam: Recall what the great Denny Crane tells us:

  the best part of love is the surrender

 
Adam: it sounds as though you have not surrendered at all

 
Adam: you need to accept that we cannot know the future

 
me: how so? 

Adam: and that maybe you will get hurt

 me: i see
Adam: but until you give in to that, you will never allow yourself to be fully happy

  Did you ever see "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? the ending was quite brilliant

  Winslet's character looks at Carrey and says:

  "But... if we're together it will all go wrong and we will both get hurt"and Carrey respnds: "...Okay." and smiles

  
Adam: you accept the pain

  because you get the love

  There will never be a relationship in either of our lives without pain--we love too deeply and feel too much but if we surrender, that means we will have the elation as well

 Adam: your pain is only coming from your doubt, not from her

 me: yes, it is. that is so true. it is my ill perception

 



Adam: Think of this:

 me: my over eagerness

 Adam: The best case scenario is, you two will stay together for years and years and years

  which, eventually, when you're a ripe old age, one of you will pass away, so you will lose her and experience pain no matter what  

SO, just like our most prized possessions will one day be broken or lost,

  as the Tao states: they are already gone.

  So rather than fear that moment

  we should celebrate every moment we have BEFORE they are gone

  you are ruining your love and maybe her love because you are afraid of losing it

Instead you should celebrate it daily, not wondering and not caring when it will end

  because after all, tomorrow you and I could both be hit by a bus

  and head off to the balcony time in the afterlife

A bad beginning

I had a dream.
It's gone.

Now I live day by day by day, thinking of what dreams may come.
It does not feel like my fabric of dreams will give me anything.

I have no idea if anything will change.
I wake up everyday, with a grey feeling in me.

And one day it will be gone.
For the bad beginning of one day does not mean a bad beginning for the rest.

Morning anguish

I guess the anguish I felt was so big on this day that the only words I could utter were:

"...."

Why do I do this to myself?

But there are always possibilities!

Invisible man

To see the invisible man.
When did I become invisible to some?

I always thought that it could be a wonderful power to have, but in the end it turns out quite lonely.
Nobody pays attention to us. If we hurt, people tend to pass you over.
Moreover, the person whom you love the most will completely ignore you, because she doesn't notice you.

The biggest pains in my life arrive from feeling ignored on purpose.
I guess that on those occasions, I become invisible to people.
They do not grant me anything they would grant the air they breathe, because they take me as they take the air for granted.

The fantasy of the dying sometimes occurs to me. "oh they will see when I am gone, they will miss me then".
But I realise that life is happening at such a fast pace that no one would actually cared.

So it is foolish to end life to call for attention, because what will you do after you call the attention?
Nothing, you're dead!

What is the solution for the invisible man, to live, to care for what needs to be cared, and maybe one day, someone will notice that the invisible has feelings, has purpose, has importance.
That he matters.
I think I matter.
I just wish I would not feel so invisible to people who are so visible in my heart!

Focus focus focus

Focus!

All I want is to focus!
All I want is to stop worrying and focus on what I have to do!
And I have so much to do!
I take no drugs or medications for this.
In fact I take no drugs or medications for anything.
Of course, I cannot say anything about the products that I eat. 
Maybe they change my mood!
Oh my God! Am I being paranoiac?
And if I am, how does it stop?

I have a heart racing at 100 mph on a road that ends on a steep cliff. I have no way of stopping it.
Any suggestions in how to slow it down and maybe just turn the wheel and move to a safer location.

Maybe if I can focus, I can do all this!

But how to focus.
I feel that I am trapped in a room of ill spirits that drain my energy at any cost. 
It is strange.
what is it?
where did I go so wrong?
Did I sell my soul to the devil at anytime during this year, while I was not paying attention?  And this my judgement now for eternity?
Can I get any appeal?

What am I talking about?
What am I writing about?

See, no focus!
My mind wonders, left and right, without anybody at the wheel.
I have lost control someway back.
I put responsibilities on somebody, but in fact is all here, in me.

What to do?
Nothing but be.
Mostly be happy.

Tolstoi said once:
If you want to be happy, just be!
WELL!
I WANT TO!
ACTIVATE HAPPINESS!
NOW
Dammit!
The darn switch is broken! AGAIN!
And worse of all , the switch is stuck on misery.

I already called the help desk. But their busy.
Typical!

I most write about this.
It is the best way I can cope with it.
But more than that, I must share it. 
Even if I don't have a public.
At least it is stored somewhere.

One day, you might drop by and see this.
You can laugh, cry.
It does not matter really!
It is such personal bullshit... that you should not waste your time here, after all, you have your own life to live.

What will I do now?
The same!
FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS!
Perchance to heal some part of me.

Scream

Boy do I want to scream?

Do I want to rip out my lungs and put outside all the river of contempt that runs deep!!!?

It is  consuming me more than I can bare.
Lie. I can bare it. I am baring it. If I couldn't I would not write.

Screaming to all of you.
Yes, the litte crickets in the room that witness this pathetic display.

You may ask why do I scream?
I scream because I am trapped in an emotional loop that is stuck on sadness and expectation.

If I could remove the expectation, perchance the sadness would disappear.

There is nothing worse than have faith in something that does not depend on us, only to realize that the faith was ill deposited.

I can force anyone to be something that he or she is not.
So, as my good friend once said. I need to surrender to the fact that I have no choice.
So why suffer?
Why torture myself, with that which is not.

"and all the kings horses, and the kings men,
will never put these pieces back together again"

So, perchance to scream, to cry, to laugh, to go insane.
Whatever it maybe ... somehow I will deal with the madness, that is taking over!!!!

And in the end. I lose it all!
Because, I screamed too much!
And scared away ...

Death and the selfishman

Will I ever recover?

Will I ever encounter my selfless spirit?
People around me cry and die.
I worry only about my feelings.
Feelings that are too strong to ignore.
These are not like the stone in the shoe kind of feeling.
It is rather like the sharp knife that has been craved to the heart.
I am sure that certain people that I have hurted throughout my life, now rub their hands and say.... Good for you, you bastard. How does it feel?
You should even suffer  more!

To them I say, don't worry, I am sure I will. Not because you want to, because of a sick mind that lives upstairs.

But amongst all this hubhub of feelings and voices in my head, I still feel like the selflish lazy prick that once I was.
It is has if has risen inside my mind.

People may ask, why does he write these things.
Why do we care?

You don't need to care.
I need to vent.
This is my open message in a bottle.
You may find it, or you may never know it existed.
But at least I purged it into the world.
Not as trash that lives in me, but as raw matter that I cannot deal, and who knows? Who knows? Perchance one may find empathy in these harsh words of a loner in a world full of people.
This to say, that around me I see many bad things, and I do nothing.
I am aware of them, but I am mostly aware of me.
And while I don't repair myself, I cannot help anyone.

I just hope that before death comes and takes me to its slumber that I may find some comfort in the person that I become.
I have too many emotions floating of my skin, because I cannot keep them inside.

I wonder how many people can restrain themselves so much.
Perchance they have some escape mechanisms.
I too must find me some inner fail-safe to better cope with so much emotion, and reactivate my soul and be human again.

Until then I am just a selfish man looking out actionless as death takes out one by one people until one day it will start taking people that I realize that I care, but never said I love you enough.

It is difficult to admit that we can be cold and selfish.
I feel that i am not quite cold, but not knowing how to deal with feelings is making me colder!!!
And if I get too cold, one day I will die and I won't even know the difference!

Surprise

I have a bird!
Its just a sweet sweet bird!
She wonders around, I don't keep her in a cage.
This bird knows no bounderies.
This bird before meeting me lived many many deceptions.
In fact, I truly believe that this bird is always expecting to be disappointed by me.
I am not sure if I will ever surprise this bird, but the fact is that this bird everyday sings me a song.
Lately, she sings lower and lower, almost at a faint level, I can barely hear it. But I hear it.
It feels like a cry of sorts.
I do not understand her cry, because I don't understand what she wants.
I really like this bird, but I cannot stop this feeling that I have that one day, I will wake up, and this bird will no longer be there to sing me a song.
I feel that dreaded day is coming closer, when she will go to somebody else's windowsill and start a new song.

I cannot cage her.
I cannot understand her
I cannot force her to sing to me.
I can let her choose.

For there is no more deeper love than to respect the will of another, even if it is ultimately against our finest wishes.
Perchance one day, this bird will surprise me and will start her song with quite strong happiness.

I miss my bird song!

Can anybody tell me, exactly where I am?

The entire fabric of my reality is failing me.

I would imagine that the ones closest to us would be the first ones to share whatever they have to share.
Instead they hide their fears, their stories, themselves really.
To share themselves with others.

What am I a shadow? A hollow man that has no impact in the life of the other.
I feel completely lost in this world of deception that happens everyday.
That I cannot tell or show my feelings from a far, because the diffraction of the light will somehow twist my words, my actions, and will give an image of a different person.

Should I be close or far?
No matter. It is not my choice.
I can only wait.
That is my choice.
I wait to be evicted from a world I decided to enter.
There is no easy way to wait for the facts that do not depend on us.
I wish somehow that I was stronger or wiser or luckier to see life in a funnier light.
I need to laugh from all this.
I need to end this misery that is my failed perspective of that which cannot be.

Meanwhile, I look for the map. I find nothing. I am dyslexic and lose my words and my expression.
I have no hollow pursuits, I AM an hollow pursuit!
A doppelganger that is living my life with a different energy and I am slowly realising that this is not me.
But then who am I?
Where am I?
What am I doing here?

I am sure Mr. David Lynch is somewhere lurking. Possibly he is writing this plot of a life as I am telling you this faint words.

Today, I wish I would faint and wake up in numbness...
Wait, I am already.
Instead give me a purpose, something that takes me from the moor, from this quick sand that prevents me from moving on.

And so, I will take my steps!
Where will I go?
It doesn't matter, because no one tells me exactly where I am ?
The one who could tell me where we are, is not talking!
And neither will I!

Spot the braincell

Lord I've must have been blind

Perchance I could one day understand all this mysterious magic that is happening around me.
I feel that little value is been given to me.
Maybe the reason is not on the outside, but instead on the inside.
We cannot expect high value from others, if we do not recognise this image on ourselves.

The magical sentence of the movie "American Beauty":

"To be successful, you must project an image of success"

I guess many people live on this delusion and need to see it to believe it.
Words are not enough.
Actions rule.
Money talks and bullshit walks - here is another classic that people like hold on to.

I think we will all be mindless drones if we don't put a little more faith in each other and just need to see the action all the time.

I guess it does not take much to find the brain cell capable of just trusting.

Opening the mouth and just spill out the trust. After all, I am just someone. Perhaps special.

"And you said: Sail to me... sail to me.. let me unfold you...
here I am... waiting to hold you!"

You never came!

Ludovico Einaudi

Ludovico Einaudi is a genius of the modern times. His work these days has been a magnificent inspiration to help me cope with all the emotions that fly through me. I feel that ever since July I have opened the pandora's box of emotions that and I am slowly remembering what it means to feel. Perhaps this is a lesson that I need to learn . I guess this is the only I can possibility tap into my unique potential perchance realize the substance of what it means to be alive. Fortunately the music of Ludovico Einuadi is amazing it is the kind of soothing sound that expresses exactly some of the uniqueness feeling. Perchance I will be a better dreamer because of him. I thank this fine genius for all threeinspiration we grants me. And to help me find the strength to express feeling .

Calling all Stations

Calling all stations!

Can anybody hear me?

I know I have visitors. I know the people land here and just leave after a brief passage. I wonder how many words any of them read?

My friends that come here, those make the effort to read at least a paragraph. 

But nobody writes. Nobody comments.

Nobody actually cares.

No one wants to know where this vessel is going.

I am going somewhere, and at times it feels scary, that is why I am calling all stations in the hopes that anyone stop and care.

But I am sure that people have called for my attention one time or another. I wonder did I stop to hear their cry?

Do any of us actually to stop to help?

I guess I am calling all stations to stop being such a cold person and start paying attention to all those in need.

And this is very beautiful to say but it is not so easy to do.

I must face my fears and be good.

What should I do... well now, I can just do this...

Call all stations!

Love to be loved

Oh I love to be loved.

Who doesn't?
I guess, we love to be loved by the people we love.
To be loved by a complete stranger may have little impact on us, because there is just one specific love we want to receieve.
From that unique person, that make our day whole.

the big mistake is when you let your life depend on that love alone.
Life is not to be dependent on just what someone gives you, but instead what you give yourself. What you want for yourself and what you will do for it.

So, much like my dear Peter Gabriel, I confess that I love to be loved, and so i quote his song:

"This old familiar craving
I've been here before, this way of behaving
Don't know who the hell I'm saving anymore
Let it pass let it go let it leave
From the deepest place I grieve
This time I believe

And I let go [x2]
I can let go of it
Though it takes all the strength in me
And all the world can see
I'm losing such a central part of me
I can let go of it
You know I mean it
You know that I mean it
I recognize how much I've lost
But I cannot face the cost
'Cause I love to be loved"

Love to be loved - Peter Gabriel


So, you know how people are
When it's all gone much too far
The way their minds are made
Still, there's something you should know
That I could not let show
That fear of letting go

And in this moment, I need to be needed
With this darkness all around me, I like to be liked
In this emptiness and fear, I want to be wanted
'Cause I love to be loved
I love to be loved [x2]
Yes, I love to be loved

I cry the way that babies cry
The way they can't deny
The way they feel
Words, they climb all over you
'Til they uncover you
From where you hide

And in this moment, I need to be needed
When my self-esteem is sinking, I like to be liked
In this emptiness and fear,
I want to be wanted
'Cause I love to be loved
I love to be loved [x2]
Oh I love to be loved

This old familiar craving
I've been here before, this way of behaving
Don't know who the hell I'm saving anymore
Let it pass let it go let it leave
From the deepest place I grieve
This time I believe

And I let go [x2]
I can let go of it
Though it takes all the strength in me
And all the world can see
I'm losing such a central part of me
I can let go of it
You know I mean it
You know that I mean it
I recognize how much I've lost
But I cannot face the cost
'Cause I love to be loved

Yes I love to be loved
I love to be loved
[x3]

I love to be loved
I love to be loved
Yes I love to be loved

Perchance neglected

How strange is my perception?

I interpret so many things wrongfully.
I imagine things in a way, but I have no true way of knowing if they are truthful.

Just because events do not unfold as I would imagine they should unfold it does not mean that the facts are different.
I guess, it means the explanation of these facts is just different.

To feed my self with pointless explanations of why some action or inaction are carried out just makes me give in to fear. 

So I feel neglected, but am I really being neglected?
I feel that I get no attention, but how much attention do I usually need?
How much attention do I usually give?

Am I neglecting someone?
Is someone neglecting me?

Sometimes, I wish I could not feel these things and just be well.
Perchance I am not neglected but I am just too dependent!

I do not want to be dependent!

Express yourself

What is it dear ones with our expressions of affection, that sometimes seem so hard to come out?

I have wondered many times, what is it that refrains us from expressing our affections?

Is it fear?

Is it shame?

Are we to proud to say what we really feel?

Or do we want to hide our precious feelings so that no one can take advantage of us?

I Feel that I have more to gain by sharing myself than actually holding back.

People who hold too much, carry a larger suitcase of emotions, and sometimes they do not know how to deal with all of them.

It is easier sometimes to pretend than to deal with the facts.

But if we are honest enough with ourselves to face the facts, then we are winners, for us and ultimately to others. Because we are much more truthful.

Take the fact, if you will, of a friend I have, that has been struggling to find is place in the world.

Should he keep studying

Should he get a job

Should he pursue a dream

Should he face what he really wants.

I feel personally that if he can express himself to himself first, he will be able to overcome the challenges that he faces.

These challenges, by the way, start within.

We have a bigger challenge within us, which is to be truthful.

To hear our cry, to hear our heart.

To let it express it self.

Be it by a conversation with a friend

Be it by painting

Be it by acting

Be it by writting on a blog, whatever it is that goes on your mind.

Now, I write here, more and more.

I do it in the hope that someone passes and take interest and perchance, who knows... express him or herself.

The harshest place on earth



 

The harshest place on earth is in the mind,

the lightest place on earth is in the heart.

 

 

I have no doubt that during the past few months, exception made to my time in Croatia, I have been living my own personal hell, carried by my own demons.

These demons live inside my head, they are in my mind, they feed me with wrong vibes and feelings about the reality.

They are just affecting my perception, imparing me to perform normally.

 

 

I see evil where there is no evil

I see unhappiness where there is a route for happiness.

I am obsessed where i should be light.

 

Everyday has been a battle of the feelings.

I imagine what I think is real

I forget to tap into my heart, where the true joy of being alive is.

 

I surrender now to the fact that I have no control in my life except to be who I am.

I accept the person that I am.

I have unique qualities that make me a remarkable human being.

 

Everyone has the chance to be remarkable in their own way.

It is hell to live according to other people's expectations.

 

My own expectation should be to live without expectations and still perform the best I can possibly do.

 

I will keep on giving myself to the world.

I can be beautiful if I see myself beautiful.