Rough Fragility

Every rose has it’s thorn. I just happen to have more than most. Does that make me tougher or more fragile?

Rambling...

I don’t know why today I am so determined to put things in writing. Can’t sleep, anyway. So much as well as put it down in writing. Maybe that way it will stop thoughts taking so many shapes and forms. Words make me feel safe. Their existence is proof of their meaning. The simple precision of a word reflects the depth of the subconscious. It marks an exact point in the kaleidoscopic myriad of thoughts, where there was a need to record it. V

Purgatory

At times I wonder what sin so great I have committed to deserve such a punishment. I am no angel, but I am not so bad a person either; or so I used to think. At times I wondered what greatness I ever did to be rewarded with finding you. Funny isn’t it? I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Life takes many turns and mine has tracked down a thorny path. Many times I ask God why choose this for me. I have no answer as of yet. Maybe this dimension is not real. Maybe this is purgatory for me, for some terrible things I have done. It is all I can think at times, as flawed as it sounds, as mad as it is. Paradise was shown to me through my time with you. Hell awaits me from the day I last see you. So now, the in between, must be purgatory! As a child I was always so afraid of it. I always repented any bad things I did and tried so hard to make better deeds, so I never have to go through it. As they say, many times our greatest fears have a way of sneaking into the reality of our lives. Well, I can now say that is true. I console myself by thinking that in another dimension, things turned out different for me and you. V

Kaleidoscope

Some lives form a perfect circle. Others take shape in a myriad of broken circles. They form a kaleidoscope of suffering and pain with the occasional glimpse of what happiness could be. I want to see the circle form, but I am thankful to have seen what the dream could be. And, if at times I wish I didn’t, the kaleidoscope of my memories starts turning, bringing into me the colorful dreams of what was and I no longer wish it never happened. My times with you are precious. More than any jewels you never lavished on me. The memories no one can take away from me. Not even myself. And I have tried. If only you knew. You say that’s how relationships are. You want us to be friends. With you, this I can not agree. Without you I can’t continue, like I used to be. You showed me a person I believed, a heart I cherished, a lover that made me feel. As your friend I can’t be, without you I never will. This is why it is so hard for me to say good-bye. I can’t live with knowing you are somewhere, away from me. Giving to someone else what I dreamt you could have given me. So I stay; I walk among the leftovers of us, gathering small memories I can then add to the Kaleidoscope of my memories. Little pieces I paste together to make happy dreams. V

Never Sent

I am sorry I am leaving. You are everything I ever dreamt! Even before I met you, I had dreamt of you. I know you would find some cynical comment to this, so I will never be able to say it to you. But believe it when I say that I already loved you before I fell in love with you. Only that in my dreams the circle would be complete between me and you. It was not to be. Thus I am leaving. I have to, because, I love you. In my heart I will take the dream that one day, when you are ready, you will come and find me. Please do, because I will always love you. V

Words don’t lie. People do.

In the end, as the very first beginning, you choose to throw your life with the dice. So many times I gave up my wants and needs; my thoughts ravaged and satiated, within the richness of the blood. Rare. Thickening, Unmistakable. Like Smell. And Words. Blood is like Fire! Purging in their devastation. Ravaging anything in their way, feeding from everything around. Words make me feel safe. Their existence is proof of their meaning. The simple precision of a word reflects the depth of the subconscious. It marks an exact point in the kaleidoscopic myriad of thoughts, where there was a need to record it. V

Words

So many times words roll around my mind. Perfect sentences, exact meanings; but that’s where they stop in my mind. Their pedantics tormenting my soul, their lack of voice strangling my mind. In fact at times I have whole conversations in my head. I write the perfect letters, expressing my exact feelings. Sentences I know will never be put on paper, never sent to be read by those for whom they are meant. You see their magic would disappear the minute those words would flow from inside me, through th ink of my pen and were expressed on paper. So they are left mostly unseen and definitely unsaid. Words. Are feelings; and feelings, my feelings, are better left unexpressed, unsaid. I believe words are precious. Even though these days, they have mostly no meaning anymore. People, these days trivialize words. Maybe, because, they are cheap. People make them cheap. It is said that this trivialization of words, has taken out the meanings from so many pleasures, happy and unhappy moments. Whole memories desecrated, and by the common use of those same words we need, in order to express them. Interesting is how, even though so many words have been debauched by common use and lies, people still need to hear them. In many cases even believe them. We live in a world of fools, I guess. Maybe, that is the reason why all of those, who were blessed with the power of words, were in their majority deranged outcasts, uncivilized even, one might argue. They suffered more than anyone else. They were the biggest fools. Many writers, poets as well, were and have been doomed to being ostracized from the inner circles of society; called crazy, persecuted at times, but rarely understood. One could argue that many times this happened because they dared to give shape in their words to illusions, dreams, concerns, expressions and feelings, with which most of the “civilized” upstanding citizens could not deal with. No one likes to be confronted with many of their fears, hopes, dreams and thoughts exposed through words. Because words make them real, and reality is not always real. Books are precious. They are the keepers of words and thus the thoughts of whole civilizations. But that is not just why they are invaluable. They also provide dreams. They make people think or forget. Yes, forget. You may find it strange, but in many cases the words contained between two hard covers can make you forget everything else around and inside you. You can become one of the characters, enjoy their lives and thus forget your own. They may even bring new joys, new hopes and dreams but also fears.

Why?

Because of a basic need to know. Because I am loosing my mind. Because suddenly Vintage has become Old Fashioned. Because Intimate has become Public. It's cheaper than a shrink! V