Friday, April 14, 2017

The Forest and The Walls

There's blood on the walls. He fell short after the last breakup and wasn't able to fight for his freedom, for is sanity. Evertyhing went in a darkness spiral just anouncing what he would become. In love with the nature, he run away to lost himself between the trees. It was the night before that everything changed when he least expected. Let me talk about this guy. He was born devastated. After struggling to find his way to the world, he would reveal himself, through the little things, to be a lover of the night, of the obnoxious. Life wasn't easy on him. He dreamt about everything you wouldn't. He didn't want to be famous or rich. He just wanted to smile with the meaning for once. But everything fell short when he was forced to fight others wars. Like a martyr, he raised himself above the waters that would drown him. It wasn't like he wanted, was more like he had to. The floor he was walking was like ice with spikes that would cut his feet. Cutting footseps, that's how it should be described. He often run to the forest to find the peace he always wanted, but the cost was to high for him to be able. Rainy days or with the stars shining at their finest, he would lose track of time and space in that forest. You know the feeling, right?

One day, he met that one person that would change him. He became addicted to the point where the forest seemed so empty. Then, a whisper came and said: "You will pay the price with your own life. Stop it while you can, otherwise, you will feel what pain really looks like." He ignored that whisper, but was wondering from where it came. Until the day a soft voice, cold as a winter freezing night, said to him: "I will never let you down, my love. I will always care for you. I will make everything for you. Just follow my lead...just follow my voice."

That was the moment he lost himself. Pushing away everything that he loved for that little sweet voice. He gave everything he had just to find the body that was carrying that voice. He didn't came back to the forest. He met a girl, he loved her, he gave his everything. He thought that she was the sweet soft cold voice that spoke to him. She didn't knew he was broken. But she played with him, with his fragile heart until she broke it. Worse...she destroyed it. Betrayl was a price he couldn't pay, speacilly when he was the one betrayed by the closest people he had.

Here we are, back to the forest. He went into dispair. Where should he turn. He already lost it all and the only thing that was near him was his self-destructive nature that he carried for his entire life. He messed up. His arms where pure razor poetry. So does his chest and hands. That's why there was blood on the walls. He marked the walls that restrained him for too long. When he got to the forest, the sky was the painting he always wanted. Full of stars. Instead of following the fireflies, he followed the buzzards. He finally understood what those voices where whispering to him. He lay'd down on the floor, like the soft herb was the only comfort he would had for years. He closed his eyes and whished, in all of his glory, for the pain to stop, just for a little glimpse of what should be to be happy. A soft breeze came and another whisper, warm and gentle, said: "Rest now. Everything is over. The suffering is over, my darling." He closed his eyes and smiled. It was in that moment that he knew what being happy looked like.

He never woke up again. Died from the bruises but he blossomed like the greatest and prettiest flower ever known. And the voices never came again. Some say, that where he rest his body for the last time while alive, everytime a breeze passes by, that you can ear him whispering, in is soft and husky voice: "Don't be to hard on yourself like I was. Smile, do good things to yourself and for yourself but never stomp anyone. Believe in you like I do." Nobody knows if that's true.

The whispers were only in his head. Are they in yours too?


Thursday, March 23, 2017

Destination

Soaked in horror. Burying the present and turn the future to ashes. You'll never now what's coming until you're already there. Sometimes it feels like writing in old clichés will help to ease the pain. But in this case, it's not about clichés, but how you turn them into an ol'dark twisted state of mind. You run around in circles, trying to find a reason to keep going, something you should be grateful for, which happen to...not happen at all. I don't know where am I going, but I know where I want to go. I guess that I just didn't figured out how to go to my destination.


Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Chapter One - Let's Never Meet Again

It was not long ago that I met this man, who wrote the most beautiful and deep stories I have the pleasure to read everyday like it was the first time. Let me tell you about him. He was a thinker, those that we can barely find in a lifetime worth of search about those unique persons. I often saw him, in his late days, smoking his cigarette by the window, watching the stars, searching for answers. I don't know everything about what he thought about during those moments, but I had the pleasure to know some of those thoughts and better yet, talk about it. I don't remember when I first met him, but I remember how it was. I was sitting at the bar, lost in every single way you can imagine. He was not far from me. I guess he noticed my expression of deep sadness and without looking at me, he spoke to me:

- Life can be quiet a mess sometimes. May I advise you kid, that this will happen more often than you think, but don't let it put you down.

I looked at him in the middle of my yet to find senses and thought "how the hell can you say that without even know me?" but without having the time to spoke it he replied: "I've been down that road before".

I was confused. How could someone say those things just by looking at me? Truth is, the more I knew him, the more I understood his words in that specific day. He wished for a better life, for better days. He never lost his hope in having someone by his side, with a smile on her face. Fate wouldn't give it to him, but instead of losing his ways, he would sit in silence, watching life follow its ways. He knew that he would end up alone, not by choice, but because he embraced his fate. I once had the nerve to ask him about love...

- What do you think about love?

- "I doesn't matter. Is love something I should spend my days trying to describe it? I don't need to. Love is a beautiful feeling, one of the most unique feelings the humankind will ever have the chance to know, but  it is also a dangerous thing. Love hurts? Yes, it does, but love can do so much worse than that. You can find your true love in things and still not able to make them happen. You can find true love in people and not even have it for yourself. Love is like a dream and when you wake up, you may never have it again. You feel alive, but a part of you is dying. If your love, suddenly, goes away, you just die. Love kills."

- May I ask you if did you ever find your true love?

- "My friend, you can ask me everything. You see, love doesn't follow a logic reason. Yes, I did find my true love, but maybe I wasn't ready. Maybe she wasn't ready. Maybe neither any of us was or maybe she deserved better than me. I will never know the answer. What I do know, is that we ended up following different paths. When she left, I couldn't do anything else than feel the void inside of me. I never knew about her for a while. An old friend said she was happy, with kids. A beautiful couple. But I never, ever, tried to reach out to her again. Before you ask, yes, I wanted, but I couldn't. Maybe one day she will remember me, maybe not, but as far as I'm concerned, I just rest my case. In the end, you can say I didn't deserve her, which I think too. But I still believe I will have someone, one day, even if I'm too old for that to happen."

His words stuck in my head. How could someone like him, end up alone? I think, maybe, he choose to live that way, so no one could hurt him. I never knew the scars he had until I have read about them in his pappers, that he asked me to keep with me. I tried to find that woman to no avail. Maybe she's out there looking for him. No one knows. What I do know, is that this man was much more than he would ever show.

Friday, December 16, 2016

Music Of The Day #2

"Der Doppelgänger" -  Schubert (Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau)

Still ist die Nacht, es ruhen die Gassen, (The night is quiet, the streets are calm,)
In diesem Hause wohnte mein Schatz; (In this house my beloved once lived:)
Sie hat schon längst die Stadt verlassen, (She has long since left the town,)
Doch steht noch das Haus auf demselben Platz. (But the house still stands, here in the same place.)

Da steht auch ein Mensch und starrt in die Höhe,  (A man stands there also and looks to the sky,)
Und ringt die Hände, vor Schmerzensgewalt; (And wrings his hands, overwhelmed by pain:)
Mir graust es, wenn ich sein Antlitz sehe - (Upon seeing his face, I am terrified--)
Der Mond zeigt mir meine eigne Gestalt. (The moon shows me my own form!)

Du Doppelgänger! du bleicher Geselle! (O you Doppelgänger! you pale comrade!)
Was äffst du nach mein Liebesleid, (Why do you ape the pain of my love)
Das mich gequält auf dieser Stelle, (Which tormented me upon this spot)
So manche Nacht, in alter Zeit? (So many a night, so long ago?)


Thursday, December 15, 2016

Lost Statements #2

There is no reason to look out for something good. The world is sick and I am getting worst every single day. How far can I go? I don't know. I have an healthy life, except for the smoke which I like, but that's not enough. I'm losing weight, my appetite, my sleep, my will to do what I want and what I like...my will to live. I've been hanging onto something I can't fully describe, but I say a lot that is to cause no harm to the ones I love and care. I don't want to bring pain to them. Just that.

Every second, even this one where I'm writing this, I imagine, in my head, so many ways to die. Some with blood, some bloodless. Now I'm imagine this as bloodlines. Somehow, I wish I could write a letter with my own blood. I don't cut myself, but I want to. I want to tear myself from limb to limb. 'Cause I'm sick of this, of everything. I'm tired of fake my smile, pretend that everything is ok, just so the others don't make questions, don't care and don't feel my pain when they have to deal with their own.

I've been losing everything quite some time ago. First, I've lost my talent in school and I lost my mind because of someone who played with my emotions. Hello depression. After that, I've started to rebuild my world. I've been cheated, way before my world start to crumble, but that didn't bother me too much. Then, I've found myself stumbling upon myself trying to find a balance to fill the void. It was in that, let's call it travel, that I've found someone who I would lose after a while, like everything else.

See, I've seen beauty and it's many forms, but I couldn't keep it with me. Obviously, I met good people along the way, but I have never ever found someone who embrace my darkest ways, my evil ways, my wicked mind, who choose to stay with me. But I'm still being able to see beauty. I see people with a lot of potential and what they can achieve if they don't waste themselves or give up. Sometimes, the wings are spread and ready to take them to new heights, but their mind is their weakness. Yet, they still shine brighter than shining stars, even if they hide it from everyone and from themselves.

Anyway, back to myself, I've been losing everything. My friends, my enthusiasm, my will to do something, my confidence, my self trust, my mind...but I'm gaining something. I'm gaining the desire to put an end to everything around me, including myself. Maybe that end is closer to me than I thought. After all, I'm now in a place where I can make those decision. I just hope that when my end comes, I'm there to salute the bravest soul that come to take me to eternity. My dreams and my hopes are death.

Lost statements #1

You can go from something great, to a completly void. It's like the break of dawn you know? It can be promising, but you'll never know what will be. Sometimes we talk about passion like it's the reason for our existence. I call it lies and illusion. See, things tend to be more like a dark twisted fantasy, but it's not. That fantasy is reality. People are losing their will to go on, to rebuild themselves and the society, but prefer to live in a fake state of mind where everything makes them happy. Are they? Are this thoughts even real? Or are they just a construction of a double reality?

I can't look to myself as an exemple of this, because I've always seem to tend to become a shadow thinker, living within my own reality, my illusion, my world. It's fake but resembles a lot to today's society. No wonder I keep myself battling inner demons. But this darkness I'm into is where I feel I'm home. On the other hand, I feel amused by it, because I can't share my real thoughts with anyone else. It would torn me appart, because they, the other walking "free thinkers" wouldn't get it.

This is different. My eyes are a lot different from theirs. Should I care? No! Every living soul is, somehow, different. Why do they keep living the same pathetic lifes? Just copying each others looks, each others tastes, just trying to be what others are. No way I could follow that path. That's why I try to make others find their path, away from the shadows. You have to be insane to keep following this road.

Don't follow me, follow your dreams. I can show you the path, but it's your call to make it, to build it. I love my scars, but I wish I never had them. Guess I made the wrong turns, but always keeping myself in the right track. I've lost myself and I do that a lot. But I can always find you and show you the way, your right way. Follow it. Live it. Build it.

Stay away from this shadows. Stay away from my home.

Music Of The Day #1

"A Million Little Pieces" - Placebo

There wasn't much I used to need
A smile would blow a summer breeze through my heart
Now my mistakes are haunting me,
Like Winter came and put a freeze on my heart

I've lost the power to understand
what it takes to be a man with my heart
I saw you wanted this to end,
You tried your best to be a friend to my heart

But I'm leaving this worry town
Please no grieving, my love, understand?

Whenever I was feeling wrong
I used to go and write a song from my heart
But now I feel I've lost my spark
No more glowing in the dark for my heart

So I'm leaving this worry town,
Please no grieving, my love, understand?

Understand? [x4]

Understand? (Can't you see I'm sick of fighting?)
Understand? (Can't you tell I've lost my way?)
Understand? (Look at me, there's no denying)
Understand? (I won't last another day)

So I'm leaving this worry town
Please no grieving, my love, understand?

That I'm leaving this worry town
Please no grieving, my love, understand?

All my dreaming torn in pieces,
All my dreaming torn in pieces,
All my dreaming torn in pieces,
All my dreaming torn in pieces now