Waking Up


Last two days I’ve been waking up pretty early in the morning. Actually, way before sunrise. I would toss and turn, and finally go back to sleep with birds already singing as a background noise.
Two days in a row, during that short sleep between the birds and the sound of the alarm clock, each night one different person from my past has appeared in my dreams to have a conversation with me.

One of those conversations was pretty straightforward, almost felt like we were following a dialogue. The other one was much less pleasant, and I ended up throwing a giant green olive to that person’s forehead and walking away down a busy stone-paved street.

As I write I hope I have a more pleasant way of waking up tomorrow, for a change.
What does it all mean, though? I do not have a clue. A giant olive? Seriously?
Maybe my mind is probably just getting rid of some mental clutter, because I guess after all, spring is the perfect time to do a bit of spring cleaning.

(This post best read while listening to:
So Real by Jeff Buckley)


The Goodbyes


I feel like I have had to say goodbye way too many times lately.

It is not only the fact of saying so long. I never wholly realize that goodbyes are forever. I can not fully comprehend the fact that I will not be seeing someone anymore. “Anymore” does not exist in my dictionary. Therefore the effect of the goodbye does not hit me until quite a while afterwards. Then it hits really hard.

I consider myself to be pretty adaptable. Sometimes (most of the times) too adaptable. So I find it easy to lose myself. Quite often. Then, if something changes, if someone or something disappears all of a sudden, I am sort of coping for a bit, because I do not easily take it in, until I understand that it’s never going back to the way it was, the way I adapted myself to. I can’t grasp it because I find myself not capable of doing it. As I have mentioned in a previous post, I have realized I am much more of a softie than I ever thought and I ever showed. And I get very very lost. I would easily adapt to anything except to the “never” or the “never again”. That is hard.

The never agains arrive in many ways: some are unwillingly received, some are unwillingly given. Some others might be consciously chosen and happily given. Some others are readily given just because those givers enjoy living in a constant capsizing ship, in a perpetual turmoil, they need to make a mess from time to time and live off the energy these “never agains” create. Some others are just simply caused by a cease of existence, and that is it.

I also have a hard time coping with the difference between what people say and what they do. I seem to have found a pattern in what I do when that happens… trust and not give it importance, some times for years, then try really hard to get a reaction and fight my disbelief. Then if what I receive is coldness, it really hits me. So lastly it is my turn to move away from that rawness, say “never again” and try get by warmth back.

It is very hard for me to say never again. Especially when since it is in my nature to not build permanent walls. But trying hard is hard enough. And trying for a long time is long enough.

At some point we lack the energy and we need to leave and recharge ourselves. Therefore, besides the reasons mentioned above, there are never agains that come up when time after time we get tired of trying hard to be there and it doesn’t make a difference whether you are or not, at some point you become completely transparent, then invisible. We are not seen there, it is like we never were. You’re in an unresponsive world, surrounded by unresponsive people. You care for them and look after them for years. But there is just silence as an answer. If you try hard and it does not make a difference, why keep trying at all? In the end, things and people are disregarded when they disregard themselves and we get tired of trying to reengage them into normality.

We all hate the not anymores and the goodbyes, but we are worth and we deserve so much more than being overlooked.


(This post best read while listening to:
That’s Life by Frank Sinatra)

The Many Mirrors


Lately I’ve been feeling pretty lost. I’m feeling like I don’t know who I am or who I have to be. Talking to people makes me realize that my life is not the way I see it. And I am not the way I see myself either.
I don’t know anything anymore.

I’ve been so wrong that I’m realizing that I might never find what I am looking for. I never thought I would scare anyone by being successful, I thought it was something that only happened in movies. But I guess I was wrong. I thought that being successful would mean being less of a pain for the man next to me. I was so far from right. And so I was recently let known.

In the last week I have been asked out by two wonderful men. One of them at the gym, and the other one last Friday at karaoke night. You have a secret admirer,and honey, you’re rather gorgeous, those are things I do not see myself worthy of hearing. You are really successful, you must be proud. That is another one that doesn’t click either. Why am I not proud at all?

The mirrors do not always show us what there is. As the dharmas in Buddhism, they might be different beings that in the end make up what we are at any given point. Then maybe none of those images by themselves make what we are. Is there any way we can see them all?
I’ve been exposed to many sides of myself lately. And they do not match the things I see at all. The main thing I’ve found out? It ends up I am a softie. So much more romantic and idealistic than what I thought and so much more than I have portrayed all my life.

I wish I was not so damn picky either. I demand so much of myself (not anyone else, though) that sometimes I think I am just sabotaging myself. Maybe I am afraid to find what I’m looking for in case I lose it. For some reason I keep stopping myself. Maybe I don’t want to set myself for disappointment. Maybe what I want just simply does not exist.

I wish there was a way of finding out which one of the many mirrors throws the real image back at me. Maybe all of them do, maybe none of them does. But I still feel there’s an important image that is missing. And that missing piece blinds with its darkness any other piece that shines around it.

I’m just beginning to write lyrics, in a professional way. Maybe some of my fears will get revealed, my pain relieved and that way burnt down to the ground as they are sung by other people. I was so wrong about myself…

I would be lying if I said
I’ve never thought I’d take my own life
I would be lying if I said
That I never made a plan
I would be lying if I said
I didn’t think about it in the last month
I would be lying if I said
it would only be your fault
I would be lying if I said
That it wasn’t just the last drop

I would be lying if I said
I never hated you before
I would be lying if I said
I thought you’d never let me fall
I would be lying if I said
I’m not afraid to be alone
I would be lying if I said
I never thought of letting you go
I would be lying if I said
I never doubted we were like one
I would be lying if I said
I think my one hadn’t already past
I would be lying if I said
That life isn’t passing me by

I would be lying if I said
I never thought of giving up
I would be lying if I said
I’ve never thought I’d take my own life
I would be lying if I said
That I never made a plan
I would be lying if I said
I didn’t think about it in the last month


(This post best read while listening to:
On the Death of the Waters by Shearwater)

On Autopilot


Get up, get ready, go to work
Talk, smile, read, smile, lunch, smile, go
Drink, skate, cycle, faster, now slow…
Play, purr, cook, eat, get ready, home
Sleep, hope not to dream, alarm clock goes off

Then the weekend, time for free
Drink, drink, laugh and sing
Sleep, hope not to dream
Clean, hide, hide, hide, cry
Sleep, hope not to dream, alarm clock that rings

And then it all starts all over again.
Will it be like this forever?
Hoping soon life will speed up its pace

(This post best read while listening to:
A Sunday Smile by Beirut)