Borrar esa Imagen de Mente

Gritando,
Llorando,
Maldiciendo.

Arrastrando,
Llorando,
Pie.

Mi nombre,
Llorando,
Gritando.

Uno que otro pensamiento

Por Dios, ha pasado tanto tiempo desde que introduzco a una entrada este blog, siento de alguna forma que mis dedos se siente entumecidos de la falta de practica, así como un musculo se siente resentido de ser abandonado por la falta de ejercicio.

De alguna de manera, creo que siento otra vez la necesidad de volver a escribir, no se, creo que esa pasión o esa hambre por las palabras vuelve a mi. Esa necesidad de poder plasmar lo que pienso para poder volver a el, y no perderme ni del mas ínfimo detalle de lo que pasa por mi cabeza.

Y empezando con pensamientos, quiero plasmar este que tuve. No se, porque de alguna razón me sentí tan abatida y afanada por ver dos mujeres pobres en la calle. La primera me la encontré en el supermercado, la vi, y en lo que pude medio le hice una mueca que a mi parecer fue medio una sonrisa, y fue de los pocos momentos que en realidad lo hice porque me nació, y no por simple educación. Pero el punto es, que al terminar de comprar las cosas que tenia que comprar (valga la reduncia) salí del centro, me monto al auto, salí del estacionamiento y la vi. Tan tranquila sentada en la calle, comiendo, fue en ese mismo momento que me di cuenta que era un indigente, y sentí compasión o lastima (todavía no descifro, que fue lo que sentí).

Luego al rato antes de llegar a la empresa, vi otra mujer, pero esta fue diferente y la sensación que produjo en mi, fue totalmente abrumador. Estaba en una silla de rueda, acompañada de una chica, pidiendo limosnas. Y esta chica que la acompañaba la miraba y la trataba con tanta indiferencia, y vi la señora, (que ahorita que lo pienso, me gustaría poder revertir el hecho de verla)estaba tomando de un bote de agua, o no se, pero estaba bebiendo algo. La vi, y llore.

Que tonta me siento por el hecho que llore, ahora que analizo, pero me sentí tan abrumada por el hecho que esta chica utilizara esta mujer, para ser su fuente de ingreso diario. Que tan deshumanizados nos hemos vuelto?

No se, si es que soy la única ( que lo dudo) pero el hecho es que no pude evitar el hecho de analizar esa situación, así como cuando recuerdo una parte de una película, que me gustaría que fuese real, pues en ese mismo momento, me gustaría que esa parte hubiera sido de una película y que no fuese real.

No creo ser que obvio, pase por alto, ignore, pretenda que no existan, esas situaciones. Pero aquí viene la pregunta: ¿Que harás al respecto?

Lo sigo pensando...

Just a friend...

When he smiles,
His eyes glitter like water in the sunlight.
When he laughs,
It's the music that I think of to sleep at night.

He fills my cup to the brim.

When he's frustrated,
He runs his hand through his hair.
When he's hurt,
He hides it from others with care.

I guess I picked up both from him.

When he speaks,
His voice is always kind.
When he's quiet,
His words seem to bind.

He's just so soft-spoken.

When he's with me,
Every moment is one to prize.
When he's gone,
I miss his hello-goodbyes.

When he's not around I feel almost broken.

I depend on him,
Like a child on its parent.
Unlike anyone else,
He makes me feel so transparent.
At least he knows I exist…

But it crushes me every day to know that I'm just a friend to him…

He is....

He Is


He is an artist.

He paints the stars,
And sketches my heart.
He can erase the pain from his work.
He puts pastels in the black.

He is a poet.

He speaks the language of love,
He writes what he means,
And he means what he writes.
He pours himself into my fingers,
And I can be his pen.

He is a reader.

He can read my face,
But he doesn't have to,
He could just read my thoughts.
Better yet, read my heart
Like an open book.

He is a magician.

He can reverse science,
Reverse the science that turned my heart to ashes,
And make me whole again.
He can make black into white
And darkness to light.

He is an author.

He wrote my story,
Still Work in Progress.
When it's done,
He'll put it on the shelf
And always remember it.

He is love.

He is grace.

He is peace.

He is everything.

He is GOD.

My Family Portrait

now that i look back and see,
all the shattered pieces of the portrait of my family,
it causes a great pain inside,
and its becoming really hard to hide.

its something that is taking too long to adapt,
all the divisions, departures and that awful contrat,
i'm grateful of who've i become,
but is now that is hitting me that this is not my home.

all i know that everything has a cause,
and i know that Lord is watching me becoming stronger.

but tears of pain and sorrow travel around my face,
i will learn to cope with this empty space,
strength and grace is all i posses now.

how i miss those moments to be capture in my family portrait album

Words from the most amazing guy ever....

you're a princess.
no porque sos bella, no porque sos
um.. no se
sos princesa porque Jesus died for you, making you
hija del Rey
that makes you more precious than gold!

I definitely quote: "I gave you all"

*listens to song* I gave you all - Mumford & Sons

While I listen to those beautiful arrangements of the banjo in this song, I begin to analyze the lyrics, scrutinize every word, and amazingly the song actually got into me, and even got me inspired to write something about.

I guess the effect of laying around the bed, drinking my new brand coffee, yay! *giggles* and being in the dark *has very dark passionate purple curtains*, it turned the artsie switch on X3.

I always write about my problems, and issues that constantly annoy my mere existence or things the depresses me, but I never write about myself, me, as a person, as a individual, about the goals, dreams, about anything silly that might happened along the way. It turns out that, like the song says, "I gave you all" to my family, the truth is that, I've never being trully selfish. I sacrificed every memory of my childhood in the quest to try and fix my family, in the search of trying not going insane, in the quest of being "normal" and yet I have no idea what the word normal applies to.

That quest, that search, it ripped everything I had, and like the song says: "And you rip it from my hands, And you swear it's all gone, And you rip out all I have, Just to say that you've won." Actually, that quest, won for a lot of time, even the last day of the year, it totally defeated me. I cried my heart out and force out of myself a mediocre happiness.

I refuse, blindly to content with mediocresy! Why on earth should I?! So, yeah and again I quote the song: "If only I had an enemy bigger than my apathy' I could have won." So, its a new year, let it be another type of story. Another type of book. Another once upon time tale, with a "they live happily ever after"; not that happily ever after really exists, but its a start.

I gave all of me, all my integrity, my joy, my friends, my thoughts, my time, my sleep, even me. So, sorry family, I gave you all, and you ripped everything, all what I had. I mean no harm, but its time to let go, I shall not content with the least, I want more, actually definitely I need more.

Yes, pain formed me, but let it be joy mold me.