En una isla
entre arena
de bajo del mar
me encuentra
sol
edad
soy
seré
siempre la serpiente venenosa
el sol que arde
y quema
el perro que ladra y no muerde
y muerde sin ladrar
la espada
sin escudo
el viento que aúlla
aun ya
el silencio que te abraza
y te besa
En esa isla
hay arena
hay piedras
arboles, frutas, y diamantes
El viento sopla suavemente
como un beso tierno
el agua limpa
el cielo claro
Te rindes a lo lindo y lo precioso porque por fin has topado con placer y amor
Te rindes sin creer en el fin, la noche violenta, las tempestades que ofrece el mar
Te rindes sin saber que el sol te quemara, que el leon salvaje te comerá
Te rindes por un beso
Tierno
Suave
Dulce
tu isla
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
Thin Gray Line
I'm at that age where I can still be considered very young but still "kind of old" while I process the fact that I have moved from one age bracket to another. And that ultimately means nothing.
However, it is still a strange time because I've been expected to let go of a lot of habits and tendencies and embrace a completely different set of behaviors and customs. The problem is I still don't feel sufficiently prepared to face the new horizon as I'm still stuck under the bright but ever dimming skies of whatever the hell it is I'm trying to hang on to.
I don't know what I'm doing nor do I know what I'm saying. Clarity eludes me.
Put it this way: I can't even jokingly quote Matthew McConaughey's character from Dazed and Confused without sounding like a total fucking creep. If I do quote Wooderson my age will totally fuck things up. It will muddle my intentions because I'm beyond the age where it's 60/40 funny/weird to 20/90 funny/weird which really just translates to: "That's not something you can say out loud anymore." Saying it now wouldn't elicit a chuckle but an uncomfortable stare. And definitely response that only makes things worse, despite having good intentions (read: just wanting to make someone laugh.) Even if they understood the reference, there would be a disapproving stare.
Vulture.
Gray hair.
They're probably unable to drink without The Man harassing them (but smokes and lottery tickets are fine for purchase.)
That being said, morality. As I get older I notice that the things I held so steadfast aren't things others hold in the same regard or even a similar regard.
That being said, I shouldn't take it so hard that I'm aging. It's as natural as breathing, unless you're Solid Snake in Metal Gear Solid 4, in which case you're really getting screwed with the accelerated aging.
I have to accept, as do you, that aging is natural and inevitable. But that doesn't mean I have to yield to a mindset that demands me to be weak, frail, bitter, and joyless.
However, it is still a strange time because I've been expected to let go of a lot of habits and tendencies and embrace a completely different set of behaviors and customs. The problem is I still don't feel sufficiently prepared to face the new horizon as I'm still stuck under the bright but ever dimming skies of whatever the hell it is I'm trying to hang on to.
I don't know what I'm doing nor do I know what I'm saying. Clarity eludes me.
Put it this way: I can't even jokingly quote Matthew McConaughey's character from Dazed and Confused without sounding like a total fucking creep. If I do quote Wooderson my age will totally fuck things up. It will muddle my intentions because I'm beyond the age where it's 60/40 funny/weird to 20/90 funny/weird which really just translates to: "That's not something you can say out loud anymore." Saying it now wouldn't elicit a chuckle but an uncomfortable stare. And definitely response that only makes things worse, despite having good intentions (read: just wanting to make someone laugh.) Even if they understood the reference, there would be a disapproving stare.
Vulture.
Gray hair.
They're probably unable to drink without The Man harassing them (but smokes and lottery tickets are fine for purchase.)
That being said, morality. As I get older I notice that the things I held so steadfast aren't things others hold in the same regard or even a similar regard.
That being said, I shouldn't take it so hard that I'm aging. It's as natural as breathing, unless you're Solid Snake in Metal Gear Solid 4, in which case you're really getting screwed with the accelerated aging.
I have to accept, as do you, that aging is natural and inevitable. But that doesn't mean I have to yield to a mindset that demands me to be weak, frail, bitter, and joyless.
Navigating a sea of heartbreak
I've fallen down again. The echo makes no noise. I'm greeted with silence and sounds caused by shreds of my imagination sustaining themselves through blind optimism and intense naïveté. I'm seeing and hearing things that probably aren't there.
I've fallen down before but never like this. Everything seems much more intense now. More vivid, more... "more." So much that apparently, I can't even think of a word to use. Everything is sharper, more intense, more fragrant, more tasty, more alive. Alive.
I came back to life. But as I navigate through this sea of heartbreak am I dead? Have I been knocked unconscious? Am I broken? Did I break long ago and never get around to fixing myself? Or is the me I am now the me I'm supposed to be? Have I found myself yet?
I don't like falling down because shit like this happens.
Doubt.
So much of it.
Doubt in proportional measures is fine because doubt is the fire that tempers a man's armor but this can get fucking ridiculous and makes doubt lava which in turn obliterates any armor and the man himself.
The sea is not infinite. There might not even be a sea but a puddle or a lake at best.
There will be land eventually.
I've fallen down before but never like this. Everything seems much more intense now. More vivid, more... "more." So much that apparently, I can't even think of a word to use. Everything is sharper, more intense, more fragrant, more tasty, more alive. Alive.
I came back to life. But as I navigate through this sea of heartbreak am I dead? Have I been knocked unconscious? Am I broken? Did I break long ago and never get around to fixing myself? Or is the me I am now the me I'm supposed to be? Have I found myself yet?
I don't like falling down because shit like this happens.
Doubt.
So much of it.
Doubt in proportional measures is fine because doubt is the fire that tempers a man's armor but this can get fucking ridiculous and makes doubt lava which in turn obliterates any armor and the man himself.
The sea is not infinite. There might not even be a sea but a puddle or a lake at best.
There will be land eventually.
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