Journals 2

What happens later

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1

I know not what to do if I dare find myself at the right place.

It's like I'm so used for it all to go south, I have no idea what to do when I see north.

And it's not that I dont want it. Actually, it's the only thing I really want. I just, it doesn't really quite happen for me really.

I dream about it daily, what the north will look, be, felt like.

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 2

It's a battle the world.  It's a big war, but not only out there, also it's a war inside me and I dare say, I'm not the only one facing something of that matter.

It's like we are all missing persons and persons of interest at the same time.

We are targets and uncertancy.

Black and white.

But, when do we ever realize what color we want to be?

....If we ever even do

It's weird finding myself again in this position,

Well, no really weird because I'm much familiar to it. I mean it's uncomfortable, because it's not where I want to be yet. 


-KVH

Journals 1

Him and Hims

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A

He was -- well, he is Whiskey,

The idea of it, even lots of it is great, but

It gets old real quick and you are done with it

Sooner than you though.

His brain felt different to my bones

Than my usual tastes

Because with A,

I didn't choose him, he chose me.

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Oct. 23.2013

This is a mess; I don't even know how to think straight, 

I know he chose me, that within every person in this planet he preferred me,

And I know he thought it deeply before doing so,

But I think that every day that passes by he comes closer to regretting that decision.

Just seems as if our love is like one of those mysteries of life: 

Beautiful and painful and at the end they just go extinct without reaching its maximum.

Like a working heating volcano that doesn't erupt.

And now and then I wind up asking myself is it better the killing wait than the actual eruption?

Like staring at a sharp blade run right through me, yet not really feeling its impact.

Oct. 24. 2013

Yo no quiero perderlo,

Aunque nuestro amor no es el más lindo y romántico, ni untado,

Pero es amor, me llena, me hace, me alegra,

 Me pone a sonar cuando creo que ya no hay más.

Me hace feliz tenerlo a mi lado, aunque se todo lo que comprometo se que por un lado me siento vacía, pero por el otro lado me llena tan bien,

 Que por tiempos me olvido de mi oscuridad interna.

No creo que esté lista para perder esto, lo cual es extraño porque no hace tanto era yo quien me quería alejar.

Pero no pude, mi corazón no me dejo,

¿Acaso el de él lo dejara?

- KVH

La Muerte.

Siempre he tenido la muerte pendiente, cada cierto tiempo llegaba a mi mente el pensamiento "Y si de repente pasa aquello? O lo otro?" O "Tal vez si se me va un poco la mano aqui ese sea ya mi fin" O la simple preguntaa "¿Cúando llegara?" Pero nunca se me ocurrio el como llegaría.

Era un sabado en la noche, un 15 de Noviembre, mis padres se encontraban fuera de la ciudad y nos habian dejado la casa a mi, mi prima y mi hermana, el hecho de que nos den ese nivel de espacio era una ocacion única, asi que decidimos celebrarlo con unos que otros pocos amigos; luego de compartir historias, tragos, jacuzzi, cigarros y labios, la fiesta acabo. Y quede sola.

Por alguna razón esto me produjo mucha ansiedad asi que decidí, despues de limpiar los recuerdos físicos de la velada, echarme un ultimo chapuzón en el agua y con una copa de vino rosa teñido de labios rojos, un cilindro de cenizas entralazado en mis dedos, me deje calmar por el agua y su calor y el aparente baile de una solitaria estrella en el cielo al ritmo de la musica susurada de fondo... Hasta que lentamnte, el espacio hipnotizante del cielo ocupó todo el lugar de mis ojos y cada area de mi cerebro se lleno con vacias respuestas contradictorias a las preguntas.

Sin darme cuenta todo mi cuerpo estaba sumergido en el calor liquido de la noche que me arropaba de la oscuridad del jardin, asi que simplemente decidí, completar el proceso de paz al cerrar los ojos y soltar la tension del cuerpo asi que al acabar la copa de vino de un solo trago termine de sumergir mi cabello y luego cabeza completa en el agua, y derepente comence a pensar en todo y una que otra cosa comenzo a tener sentido, pero de la nada ya todo noo, y las cosas se empezaron a sentir lejanas y subreales, como un sueño, y me dije a mi misma "¿Karla, te dormiste?" Y como prueba de conciencia pense en todo aquel que me importaba, nombre, apellido, memoria... así que luego solo recuerdo preguntarme  a mi misma "Ya es hora de despertar?" Y una voz lejana reconfortarme al responder "No, solo descanza, mañana despertaras".

Hace 4 dias, aun espero "mañana" este sueño, ha empezado a ser eterno y eso me aterra.

La verdad de como anular a una persona.

La verdad de como anular a una persona.

Carta de hija a padre.

Recuerdo una vez, que entre tantas otras me hiciste leer un artículo que decía que la forma para anular una persona era dandole" todo", naturalmente esto se refería a añoñes, facilidades, comodidades y sustento económico. Y aunque, sí es una manera de achochar el crecimiento profesional y quizás hasta un punto de carácter, esa no es la verdadera manera de anular a alguien.

Anular significa eliminar, quitar, reprimir o sustraer sustancia ya presente de algo, en este caso, un individuo. Si tu querías saber esto, razón por la cual, me imagino, leíste aquél escrito, no tenías más que abrir tus ojos, mirar tu casa, mirarte a ti, a nosotros. Eres el autentico caso de quien no observa mas alla de su caja, o su cueva, como el mito de la caverna de platón. Tan enfocado en lo que cree que ve, que no miras, no te volteas, no curioseas, no te preguntas, no consideras, solo supones y planteas según lo que la venda de tus ojos te pinta.


¿Has visto lo que pasa cuando no ves algo? La reacción natural es acercarse, tratar de distintos ángulos hasta que sea placentero, sin embargo, si acercas mucho el papel, más de lo que deberías, en vez de angular, obtendrás resultados borrosos y oscuros, por eso, buenos para nada.
Yo soy el contenido en aquel papel borroso que intentas forzar, soy el mundo fuera de la caverna, soy el alguien cuyo ser en construcción está siendo limitado. Soy el ejemplo de un alma libre en un cuerpo encarcelado, soy la encarnación de un sueño joven que muere en manos de un viejo, soy la paradoja de querer y no poder, poder y no deber, deber y no atreverse, atreverse y estrellar. Soy el prisionero en su propia casa, el inadaptado en su propia especie.
 Y sí, me refiero a los últimos dos años donde te has dedicado a no ver más allá de tus temores, coger mi juventud y guardarla en un reloj, hacer más grandes mis ganas de huir de mi amor por tí. Coges mi tiempo y decides que hacer con él, robas mis noches, mi libertad, tomas mis opiniones como voz de mudo y no las escuchas y en desacuerdo escupes en la cara de mis decisiones. Nunca he pedido libertad absoluta, ni anhelo libertinaje, pues conozco la diferencia entre "un buen padre y un padre responsable", sólo pido que consideremos los hechos juntos, los 19 años de trayecto, que honestamente, si no valen la pena prefiero no tenerlos.

Yo jamás he querido una larga vida ni una vida sin riesgos, quiero una vida que valga la pena vivir, recuerdos que sonría al recordar, momentos que me den más ganas de seguir. En fin, una vida que valga la pena vivir, quiero un presente que desee presenciar, un pasado digno de memorias y un futuro satisfecho sabiendo que viví, sentí y experimenté cuanto hacía plena mi alma, que honestamente no es ni mucho pedir ni mucha sustancia.
 Y la idea de como a otra persona le parezca que deba vivir la vida y escribir mi mi historia, no debería ser ley, sino consejo.

¿ Sabes como se anula a una persona? Limitando su ser, hasta que este desvanece y se moldea. Y excelente, para ti, pues habrás logrado tu fin, pero ¿Estás consiente que esa persona ya no será quién realmente es, sino en quien ha sido estructurada a ser?.

 Y así querido padre, es como se anula a una persona.

Heroin soul

It was like getting off heroin,
 My brain didn't want it,
 But my body felt in need
 Maybe one day I will understand why,
Everything I love seems to be the death of me,
And I try to run away,
Try to stay alive,
 But as I divide, ride, walk, hide,
 I feel a different kind of dead,
A dead from the inside,
 Inconforminability.
 A state of empty breathing,
 Empty living,
 A slow way of walking to the other side.
The side held by souls,
Empty souls,
 Inconformidable souls.
 Souls like mine,
That have run out of love,
Run out of light,
 And too afraid to search,
Because to lose the little there is to be left Would be The true end.

I cry sometimes.

Sometimes I cry for my soul,
 I have long forgotten the joys of my heart,
The passions of my brain,
The beat of my mind,
The thoughts inside my heart.

I had forgotten ,
I can cry.
Life drew me colored lines,
Endless lines,
 But that just got me lost,
At the begining I saw a path,
 A lightfull path,
 Now I see the truth.
Its just a contium of dots,
Endless dots That guide me nowhere
 Because I have now realized There is really nowhere to go.

Damned reality.

Its yet another cold night in my life. And again no arms to warm me, or thoughts to smooth me. 
Just memories. hurtful memories. 
I cant help but wonder... How things could be different and I can't find a right answer. 
I think about going back, and my heart trembles, I think about staying here and my brain goes mad,but when I think of moving on, the ideas inside my brain are negative and dark.
 Has all of this ruined me?
 Im I condemned to live withing the cold and lonley shadows forever? 

I dont agree.
 Im not happy with this arrangement. There are many things I dont understand in life. And I have really tried to. So this has led me to believe there are things that are made just to be accepted, and I sometimes have a problem with this "accepting things that quite don't make sense to me."
 Like just accepting a heartbreak. no, I'm totally against it. I will not under any circumstances just accept something or someone to just hurt me. My heart is my temple, it is the only thing thats meant not to be influenced, its true... I don't have controll over who it loves, or how it does it. But neither does anyone else. So, how can anyone else have control over it to hurt it! Thats just plain stupid really. Just plain stupid. 

Yet, its reality. and apparently I have no say in it. Damned reality, because of you, im loosing all hope. And if is true, that hope is supposed to be the last thing to get lost then I'm  utterly doomed. 

Karma is a bitch. but just this once, I wish she wouldn't be.

Ive hurt so many people, and it hasn't even been on purpose. and sometimes I do feel bad. But honestly, really I dont. I sleep perfectly at night. Im one of the lucky people with no conscience, but Im a good person. Im good. I try really hard to be, sometimes of course I fail. But im a karma believer, and I trust that bitch will murder the hell out of me. I'm confident.
I've already meet her. She has ruined a lot for me. Or maybe it was me... When, you know what I mean. The point is, my karma has taken away love, hope, it has even gien me pimples! (this one time I was critical about some girl with pimples, and bam! The next day I get pimples! Im not joking. Karma is a bitch).
 But this one time, just this once I hope she can understand! It wasn't me, it was life! I was trying to do it right this time. I was trying to build a clean game, a real, honest, love. Where I wouldn't hurt my partner, where I would deeply love my lover.
Where I would be everything I had ruined before.
 I tried being caring, romantic, pendant; even dirty (which is fun. But not really my thing) I tried everything in the book and it just seemed to kick me back. so I looked for answers anywhere possible, under bed sheets, in love songs, dinner tables, in the stars, in car rides,skylines, in high nights.
 But every answer pulled me up and then eventually threw me back down and I fell on my face.
I know I did it wrong. I know at the end after all I just turned stupid. I know I decided to break my promise, but when I said those words to my love, I never thought they would be so hard to keep.
" I will never leave you alone in this, with us. I promise" those are the words of good that have hurt me the must.
 Karma must understand! I was just trying to emend my past mistakes. But I did leave, I did give up, I do deserve every tear I've shed since I left and some of the tears before that. But not all of this.
Im good, I take care of my people, I share, I litsen , I even love when im not supposed to.
Is it too much to ask for life not to kill me next time I try?
Because I don't think can handle it one more time.

if I could have a dollar. ...

If I could have a dollar for everytime ive bet on love and it betrayed me, I could probably buy Africa and recreate it into a whole new first world country/continent. And eventhough i haven't had a shitload of lovers, the magnitude in which love has played me a foul is worth millions of intense heart breaks .
I know everyone who is anyone has suffered in the hands of love one way or another, at least once, so I believe I can be understood when I say im sick of being played aroud with. And sure, eventhough im still young and not ready to settle down with the one, or hell, even find the one, I do think I deserve at least one love tryout that doesn't turn into a complete disaster. And by disaster I dont necessarily mean shoes-throing-shit-yelling-car-crashing-house-burning disaster, but, company/lonlyness desaster, unlove-love desaster, disappointment, hope-stealing desaster. The kind of shit that even though we tolerate, little by little it starts to eat out our soul, turning the inside into a swollen burn, that aches everytime you let the bandage out, so even knowing you should let it go, and take it off, you hold on to it pretty hard, because its painfull as shit to rip it off.
And if there is something-- anything ive learned from pain is that it is consuming and vibrent, and addictive like loud silence. Forcing one to get used to it, util we no longer notice it eating up your insides, and when you dare figure it out, sometimes its too late, and stepping out of it, feels as if it were worst than the pain itself.

dear thief.

Dear heart thief,
 I dont love you anymore, not like I used to, and its your fault for letting me go, but its fine, the pain is my fault too, for staying this long.
Please know my heart beats faster for you. sometimes from the joy, sometimes from the ache. And I have been realizing for a while now, that lately it has been more often the hurting who visits me, hurt and lonliness, because you are never with me, and it feels as if you dont mind to be, and when you are, youre just a shell. Empy.
And I am afraid, let me add, afraid ill learn to live with that level of hollowness and become empty and shallow.
 That ill learn to mirror your gaze.
 I Am sorry im choosing my smile over love, I'm betraying everything cupid stands for, "the enduring for true love", Im sorry .maybe I didnt give you enough, or let you take enough from me, or was it that you already took everything you needed out of me?

 I hope our unfinished love story stays with you forever, either hunting you down or just making a statement, I really dont care. I just hope it finds a place to stay, to be, somewhere where its host isn't beaten, somewhere where the little beauty it still holds can be admired, looked, maybe even loved.
I will miss everything im giving up on, I will miss love, I will miss you, and I will miss the me I was with you, because I loved it, I just stopped loving what it was becoming. And I feel like I tried oh, so many times to make it right, but sometimes wishes just dont come true.

Maybe I will be able to love again, find out what went wrong and try and do it right, maybe again with you, maybe with someone else, but I wont give up on love, thats the only promise in can give you now. I wont give up on love. I love you, love. But its over.

                                                 
                                                                                          Yours truly, robbed.

Cenizas de cigarros.

Me baño en cenizas de cigarros, mientras escucho tu nombre en canciones, este vino no me permite borrar tu recuerdo, que a parte de sentimientos es lo único que tengo,

Se que mañana no recordare el ritmo al que late mi corazón en este momento, Y olvidare la sinfonía de tus labios desde que nos separemos, Borrare la respiración de tus manos en mi cuerpo, Pero tatuare en mi mente como respiraba tus besos,

No subestimes mi capacidad de recordar olvidos Ni de olvidar recuerdos Porque asi como te amo, asi te detesto Porque asi como te extraño, tambien quisiera irme mas lejos

Me baño en cenizas de cigarros, Mientras exhalo el humo de tu piel, este vino no me permite inhalar tus distantes palabras Que aparte de mi deseo, es lo unico que tengo.

Drunk.

There I was the other day, hearing whispers form life, while I sipped a drink on the living room of my empty home. I was wishing to get drunk on my own and sleep the hours away, while my life passed by unconsciously yet on purpose.

I wanted to get drunk on alcohol. Like many do, not knowing one can get drunk of many other things. Tangible and intangible.  But I knew, yet I choose alcohol, that particular one afternoon.

I remembered a time far away, when every day I was drunk. It could be called also the story of the first time I fell in love. It was not only a long time ago, but also, lots of me’s ago.

It was my first day in a place I would have lots of days in with time. I walked in the room not sure if even walking right and a voice as strong and confident as a bittersweet memory kissed my ears, and my heart stopped and I knew, right that moment, he would someday be a story I would say to someone with a sparkle in my eyes. I’m not saying I pictured our life together and how I’d fall down the stairs and he picked me up, or how he got lost and I helped him and we run away to a sunset full of love. Im saying a story like this, the story of the moment you pause your whole fast-forward life to just stop and stare from a close by but invisible distance.

I guess he noticed my lack of air while engraving every piece of him into my memory because he quickly walked towards me and handed me a smile with a gift of a name “ Frederick’’ he extended his hand as I smiled and reacted saying who I am. He handed me paper he was giving away and just like that he took off. And as he walked further and further I felt how I sobered up.

It was just a memory. I told myself as I came back to present life taking a sip from my cup. There were many moments in life I got drunk, all different stories and with different manners, but no one ever forgets the first time.

After that ive gotten drunk on more than one occasion. I’ve gotten drunk of love, of loneliness, of memories, of people, of desires.

But that afternoon with the drink in my hand I got drunk from life, so I decided to stop it for a while and walk into a whole different picture.

I could continue to tell you that story. But one never really remembers their dreams when they fall asleep drunk.   

welecome here.

So. I had plans for today, well actually i remember a day when i had plans for my life.
 Yeah, it seems they broke up with me. Anyways, in my plans for today I had a lot of productive stuff I didnt do. And of course, some others that i did, which of course were not planed or productive. 
 So, yeah. One of those things was this blog. I've always wanted one, but then again. I've always wanted to be skinny. On my plans for my blog I had these set of poems I had written a while back, But i lost them, so until I find my poems I'll just be here brain-babbling. 


 - love: the blogger