Trapped Everybody would have a different opinion, on how much we express and how much we speak about what we think. It is certain that for many becomes a dificult task, to shape what it is they're thinking and then having the courage to say it out loud. For others, it is a bit more easy and it happens smoothly, they just speak their mind. And I can't stop thinking about what that professor told me, that not everything I say should have a purpose enough to be said, maybe for me it does, but for others it just don't. And so far, I still have issues dealing with that, because my freedom comes from that expression and without it, I feel lost. But at the same time I fear my own words, my own ideas and questions... I'm not even writing these lines, I created a version of myself to do so. Which makes this situation grow and grow... Why can't people just share information without so many limits and barriers? Who has the power to decide when or how? If I just feel I deserve it, then why not? Prepare myself for different scenarios.. sure.. but that can't fill the void, it might not be disturbing my life or my smiles or my feelings increasing and expanding, but it will still be real, these questions to which I probably already have an answer, will remain there, expecting your words. I don't ever stop talking even when I'm lying, I do my best not to hold myself from saying things, but when it comes to questions, there's so much fear, so many doubts, the list keeps on growing and I wonder how some people don't have any trouble with just asking or is it just a fake response I created to push myself through it? All I know by far is that there might be too much control making damages that are growing beyond any need. If I could get a sign, something that would tell me that sure, it is ok to ask those questions, it's fine to just say exactly what I'm thinking and not to fear consecuences this much? Would that make me less human? Because lately I've realized that I'm not as free as I thought... Photo by: Vivian Alvarez In the photo: Lovely Wal Lyrics by Coldplay A whisper (x4)
A whisper (x4) I hear the sound of the ticking of clocks Who remembers your face Who remembers you when you are gone I hear the sound of the ticking of clocks Come back and look for me Look for me when I am lost And just a whisper, whisper, whisper, whisper Just a whisper, whisper, whisper, whisper Night turns to day And I still have these questions Bridges will break Should I go forwards or backwards Night turns to day And I still get no answers Just a whisper, whisper, whisper, whisper A whisper, whisper, whisper (just a whisper, whisper, whisper, whisper) I hear the sound of the ticking of clocks Who remembers your face Who remembers you when you are gone I hear the sound of the ticking of clocks Come back and look for me Look for me when I am lost And I am just a whisper, a whisper, a whisper, a whisper Just a whisper, whisper, whisper, whisper Oh ha ah ah ah ah ah ah Wrong Many different ways to express one particular idea, but just one simple way I want to let you know. Dangerous is the way I perceive you and how free I let my sensations fly, but wrong how I wanna hold on to it, badly. So many states of peace, for emotions to lay on, but just one particular feeling that likes to bounce in my body. Dangerous is how I seek for you face at night falling asleep with a smile on mine, but wrong how I avoid the real side. As many perspectives as I could get, and a whole world that envolves me during my days, but this constant and bidimensional part of the routine that I treasure. Dangerous is the shivering and the whispers that keep on coming from visions of the memories, but wrong how I keep on looking inside. ... but wrong how I wanna keep you in here, away from them. ... but wrong how I feel we are prisioners of our thoughts and fears. ... but wrong how I know I just can't behave.
I just want us to be free. During The Recess There are probably pages or books that explain step by step how people can learn and develop some kind of special condition, characteristic, significant talent or maybe just a very well shaped way of living to satisfy others in the process of satistying ourselves. Yep, I'm sure. While being that we end up being, accidentally or unpurpose, we surround ourselves with starts and ends. Our days, routines, lunch, plans, projects, relations, ideas. They all start and end, they last they fade, we miss them or not, but the whole cycle gets very familiar to a point where our visions are divided between the "I'm ok with it" and the "I just don't get it" If you ask me, both could be very silly, because neither one or the other one keep us from waking up and doing all those tiny cycles that begin and end once more. And as human and junkies of weakness we all are, we hold on to whatever gets very close and represents a connection that might provide the answer, or the support while getting there. Hehe... I like taking recesses, short but accurate, they work because it feels amazing turning my back to the cycles for just 5 0 10 min. I can, is simple, and it works. I hold on to my recess time, to what I find within that break and just one unique state of peace that it is almost impossible to reach in any other circumstance. People that meet me during this recess usually are brought by me, but I've found out.. lately.. that I rather filling my recess with actions and individual activities, than with people... At the end I get addicted and damage comes along, too bad and sad to be called recess in the first place. So yeah, I'll do it myself. Sanity for them, sanity for me. Lyrics by Mute Math Complication is my claim to fame I can’t believe there’ s another, constantly just another and I can’t avoid what I can’t control I’m losing ground, still I can’t stand down I Know, yeah I know… Yeah I know you stay true when my world is false everything around’s breaking down to chaos I always see you when my sight is lost everything around’s breaking down to chaos It’s hard to trust anyone again after all the let downs I’ve been through, haunted by what I’ve been through. Air’s still trapped, while I still can’t breathe and I’m screaming out, give me help somehow I know, yeah I know… Yeah everything around’s breaking down to chaos I know you stay. On On this side of the story, there are sparks dancing On many small plastic squares, for ideas to appear On for this rush On a different but unique way, you made me float On simple but well known sounds, you saw it coming On for this hidden spot On one unified field of sensations, games come along On warm phrases with no words in between, On for this experience On variable dimensions, for two heads can remember the same On different, and so exquisit ways On for this you did to me I'll be On for a while, I'm sure...
Sensitive Fibers Lo más seguro es que mi mente esté buscando en sitios demasiado escondidos para darle una respuesta divertida a esto que se me ha cruzado en la cabeza. Por lo que he estado averiguando un poco lo que pasa por la cabeza de otras mujeres con respecto al tema en cuestión: el cabello y lo que representa. Necesitaba escuchar la posición de algunas mujeres, a la hora de cortar o dejar crecer su cabello, teñirlo, hacerle algún cambio, adornarlo, etc... Esperaba alguna especie de conexión con lo que para mi significa, y creo que de cierta forma la obtuve (cosa que podrá sorprender a varias). Existe siempre alguna parte vanidosa de nosotras como mujeres, algo que nos gusta más que el resto de nuestro cuerpo, aquello que cuidamos con más pasión y con lo cual aprendemos a expresar cosas que no suenan a palabras o sonidos; ideas que no se expresan a través de los sentidos... Esas ideas por las cuales deliro, porque son tan escurridizas, tan sensibles, tan puras. Aprendemos a darle forma a nuestra personalidad por medio de lo que mostramos en esa interfaz, esa imagen... donde el cabello juega un gran papel.  Lo más seguro es que exista un patrón a seguir, en relación a ciertos rasgos propios de las mujeres, y la forma en la cual llevan su cabello... color, forma, largo, sostenido o suelto, cabello que danza, que llama por caricias, su aroma, su esencia, lo que transmite, lo que siente.  Cabello que es tan nuestro, desde el día que tu mamá deja de ejercer su poder de decisión sobre la manera en la cual lo llevas, y eres la única dueña de su futuro, de su vida y aquel divino poder sobre algo que sabes, es tuyo y de más nadie... Porque aún cuando puede recibir influencias, para mí es tán único y vivo como la mente misma. Puede marcar presencia, hablar por mi misma, dar coraje y fortaleza en los momentos en los que necesito algún apoyo, puede marcar barreras, establecer límites y crear grandes manifiestos; porque es una verdad absoluta: gritamos por nuestros poros, añoramos ser notadas, hacerle saber al mundo quienes somos, qué nos conforma y cómo sentimos. Un ley universal que proviene de ese bienestar interno, de ese ego que nos eleva.  Sutilmente, aquí sólo doy vida con palabras aquello que veo en las mujeres que me rodean... Personas que viven a través de esas fibras tan vivas como ellas mismas, que crecen sin poder alguno, que dan creencias de feminidad, y exhala a través de cómo lo llevamos... Porque si, mi cabello habla por mi. Tal y cómo lo describieron para aquel personaje, "you can cut it of easily, and feel nothing"- Porque a diferencia de las emociones, de las relaciones, de lo que me hace sufrir, es algo que logro controlar por completo y eso dibuja una sonrisa irónica y tan surreal. Refleja aquellas decisiones sobre las cuales nadie tiene más poder que yo, y eso es tan atemorizante como maravilloso.  Gracias a quienes aportaron sus fibras para esta idea, idea tan Felicity como ninguna otra :) Got Crush? If we could have control over the universe, I can think of so many things I would change to be different, such a selfish but fun idea to explore... but for this post I'll pretend that it is possible and make someone smile with it. She asked the question and gave me the inspiration for this, because it would make so much sense, and probably we would enjoy ourselves better... At the end of the day, who doesn't like having crushes? If I could control crushes within our universe, I would like to follow these rules: 1- You will have no more than one crush by month. 2- A maximum of three weeks will be the time given to make sure it is an actual crush, or something different. In which case you should stop reading these rules. 3- A crush is considered the attraction towards someone because of the way you feel by looking at the person. No extra feelings, no deeper connections. 4- The "when" and "where" shall be the only expectation allowed for each crush. 4.1- Nothing should be left unsaid. A crush is for people to enjoy and have something different in their minds for a while, fears, questions and worries should be left for a serious relationship. 5- Physical contact is a must after the crush starts. 6- Girls are allowed to flirt as much as they can. Boys shall consider this no more than a way for girls to be noticed. 7- Boys must understand by the girl's body language, that for a crush to function, fears must be kept aside. Not only boys are looking for their needs to be satisfied, girls are human as well. 8- A crush is different from a relationship as in, there are not so many limits. People is allowed to get a crush for someone else and act on it. In which case they must end the other crush. (This rule goes along with #1) 9- Crushes are for two people. There is no reason for people to find out or gossip around. The matter of a secret crush is what makes is special. 10- The moment you start wondering these rules, it's most likely that your crush has become something bigger and different involving feelings and emotions. By this point another process with different actions and thoughts must be followed. If only this could actually happen... then my addiction would make me even happier. Thanks to the girl that inspired this post... Love, Annie -The Infatuation Junkie- For a musical note, a video that I related with during my last crush: (Guily pleasure, for sure) Storyteller The world seems to be talking to me. The air speaks to me, the songs in shuffle speak to me, the art of driving and the language between machines speak to me. The strangers and our instant and short interaction, they speak to me... These moments speak to me. How kind could we be? So kind, and I smile to the world with its answers, signals that constantly feed my senses... Senses that have decided to reborn in me- I can actually feel my mind re open to this state. The colors of this city speak to me, those sounds that go from one ear to the other ear speak to me, and the inspiration getting out of control... So pretty to see it alive and just my senses managing what comes along. If I could connect and syncronize my brain with this blog, then the flow would grow and match my current status everywhere I go... What a lovely joy to play along with imagination and let others join in this special plan. A flow within these visions, that even if I'm away, it goes on it doesn't stop... while I think about it, I picture all these people skating, and me joining whenever the universe pushes me... it feels amazing. Every day I find new and different ways to express myself and meet a bunch of new souls that are developing their own ways, and during that process... they find me, we find each other. Grateful I am.. for this perception. Thankful for being able to read the world like this and happy because with it, I tell a story to the world. Lyrics by Temper Trap (Do yourself a favor and get this song) I'm in transit Floating stranded on this boat And I pledge my self allegiance To a better night sleep at home And the sweet sweet sun's comin' down hard The sun's comin' down hard It burns the bones So hold a hand for cover Hold a hand for cover Hold a hand for cover from harm Woo, ooh, ooh Talk don't change a thing Oh, it's fading fader Woo, ooh, ooh Words don't sink it swims Oh, it's fading fader Bless this mess We tried our best That's all that we can do While the angels walk With the lonely ones In the cold rain to rescue you And this fable world's comin' down hard The wall's comin' down hard On all our homes So hold a hand for cover Hold a hand for cover Hold a hand for cover from harm Woo, ooh, ooh Talk don't change a thing Oh, it's fading fader Woo, ooh, ooh Words don't sink it swims Oh, it's fading fader Here Until- Because I... I still have your contact information, and your ring tone I still have that stupid song to wake me up and the idea of a better day I still have these dumb songs, just because it was funny picturing you while listening to them Still a few things that remind, because it feels weird.. still I still haven't picked up those shirts, makes no sense only if I decide to be ironic and sarcastic, them I would wear them proudly I still have these written questions and they all merge in the same hole: the unknown and lack of information. I still keep these pictures (no, not those pictures) just two images that remind me what a wonderful bond we had and so many others you shared with the world while you felt happy with my friendship in your life Everything changes, and that's a fact It will never stop feeling weird, awkward and stupid just because there are answers I don't understand and my reading can only go this far. Because you threw me out of your life so easily after holding me so close and keeping so near There's nothing that would change that, your vision of us got damaged and I can't find the reason... which is why... You're happy and I stop. I miss you, and I stop. Lyrics by You Me At Six (Just because this song represents for me all that shit that came and broke things appart) Keep your hands to yourself, These lips belong to someone else. And you know that you, will never get on it. Keep your lies to yourself, *cos' every lie, you heard from someone else, And you know that you will never get with it. Well I sussed you good. *oh You knew I would. *oh haven’t you heard? *you're just a mark on my shirt. Another night and another girl? Well I taste so good, But you knew I would. So who's keeping score, On who is a whore? With you by my side That look in your eye *I hope you dont. Go home and wash your jeans, *cos' there's dirt on the knees, Your jealously doesn’t sit with me. You love, I love you too, Below the waist I’ll start charging you, Cause that’s just how the players play the game. *oh My winning streak, is missing. So who's keeping score, On who is a whore? With you by my side That look in your eye *I hope you dont. So who's keeping score, On who is a whore? With you by my side, That look in your eye, *I hope you dont. *you whore. Save it for the bedroom. (20x) We'll save it for the, Save it for the bedroom Oh I'll save it for the, Save it for the bedroom Lights Off Regular and individual rutines before we call it for the day. Mostly set up for the next day, or charge all things you need to plug in, splash some water on your face to make particular moments of your day disappear at that second. 'Cause we do believe in water and its power. An empty bed always awaits, and if not I always find my way to throw all that stuff to the floor, because I have no energies left for my life as I know it before 11 pm... and this short period before my eyes close blossoms and another tiny rutines begins, including the process of writing these posts, listen to music and avoid the thinking thinking, and push more words I didn't say when I had to... you would laugh to see the size of that bag. But then I find with myself just before I give in my sleep, and I hear them... all of them saying too many words for my mind to process at a regular pace and all I do is put them together as in a list, and try to check as many as I think should remind important... the other ones are deleted, I don't know where they go, but as soon as I wake up, they're gone. I had a lot to say today, more than yesterday and probably less than tomorrow... but there they go, words for the bag and just before I turn this of, Alanis reminds me of things I should have done by now, making me a part of herself in this song. Photo by: Doubraska "You Learn" I, recommend getting your heart trampled on to anyone, yeah (done) I, recommend walking around naked in your living room, yeah (done) Swallow it down (what a jagged little pill) It feels so good (swimming in your stomach) (I'm gonna say, done) Wait until the dust settles (not yet) You live you learn, you love you learn (sure..)
You cry you learn, you lose you learn (aja) You bleed you learn, you scream you learn (maybe) I, recommend biting off more than you can chew to anyone I certainly do (yeah, me too) I, recommend sticking your foot in your mouth at any time Feel free (gotta do it more often) Throw it down (the caution blocks you from the wind) (I guess I should) Hold it up (to the rays) You wait and see when the smoke clears (and it does... always) Wear it out (the way a three-year-old would do) (I know!) Melt it down (you're gonna have to eventually, anyway) (and I have...) The fire trucks are coming up around the bend (they are here already) You grieve you learn, you choke you learn You laugh you learn, you choose you learn You pray you learn, you ask you learn You live you learn (we do) Against Before I start, my mind laughs and reminds me these battles are too hard to win but for the effort given, energies could just change their direction, there's your desire to reach out and there's a golden state of new perspectives. So many words trapped in a rush of sensations and feeling how the air screams on my skin just by touching me softly constant air, and a reaction that makes me fear of myself, such a dual interaction. Visions of memories that once in a while during the night show me how the sensation fades every time how you made me feel, how I saw myself floating images in my head, but just small frames of weakness... Weakness that lays behind this door because I don't want it out just yet and because it would be much better to join you in that room than to open a new box and cover you up cover your kisses cover your touch cover your essence... In the photo once more::.. Lady Wal.
Dry Another use was given and sorting out stories didn't come as expected including these cute little kisses You are able to see it work again, it does work all the time. But this time I don't see it there's no party to wear it no special moments to appear and one single ocassion where I'm sure, it will glow on me. Sun and its warm will do their thing it will be dry as soon as possible for this body of mine to give some life to such a red and blossom shape with all these beats that keep my toes moving. It will do its thing while this empty chest puts half smile on one side and puts a plan in motion so easy not to think when I don't feel push a few bottoms and hoping wishing awaiting for another succes on my skin
Pink Thing Could it be genetic, or something that comes along with some people when they are born, the same with the rest of particular characteristics that get together to conform someone into a person that thinks, feel, speak, understands, hear, move and live. Beside that own perception of who we are, there's the diverse vision others obtain which of course, depends big time on how much we manipulate that. Our own actions, decisions and ways of living will be reflected on the person others get; maybe very similar of that version you have of yourself, maybe not so close. Well then, if there's something I've learned is that besides my own image, there's this strong perception guys (specially) get from me, not a very bad one because I'm aware of it, and I'm fine with it (leaving out those paranoic episodes twice a month)... But they see me and they either like me or not, basic stuff. What bothers me, is that there's a particular thing I don't seem to have and of course, they don't see: the pink thing. Is not actually pink, but it was the first color that came to my head when I needed to name it, and it's this: they could adore me, consider me a very interesting girl, someone very openminded, a girl they can always trust, someone that really understands and know what things to say and when to say them... but, she doesn't represent "it" for them. I will always be that girl, not the girlfriend, or the girl of their dreams, just me... Not the girl they would cry for, or suffer for. Not the girl they dream about, or fear it might stop liking them. I'm never that girl, but always the one that listens about that other pink girl. Because they don't find that in me, and why not, that must be it: I don't have it, I'm just not that girl with the pink thing that could break their hearts. Boys will keep on coming, wanting to become my friends and letting me know how all these pink girls with their pink thing come and make this huge impact in their lifes, while they are thankful because they had me. Someone with other colors that probably will not drive them as nuts as pink. In the pic: Vigi Made by: Cristi Lyrics by The Pierces When I woke up this afternoon
I know I felt… uneasy But no matter what I do Nothing seemed to please me I couldn't get out of my head That little fight we had… last night But I would much rather be dead Than admit to myself… that you were right Oh… Oh... Oh… Ohhh Don't be silly Turn On Billie She's singing us to sleep So we can dream our lives away And if we wake up In full make-up We'll pant the town blue Cause baby, red is so passe Now don't look at me that way You know I just can't… take it And no matter what they say I know that we will…. Make it Cause when we are good we are grand But when we're bad… we are.. very bad (so bad) But it has to go round Cause the love that you are giving me is the best I have ever had Oh… Oh... Oh… Ohhh And it's funny, to me The way that things have worked out There's no doubt in my mind That you can't recall what this song was about So let's give it up… Love me sweetly, and completely Come and sit beside me Cause you know I need you near When you're reeling, with that feeling We'll paint the town pink, cause red is so last year Fem Seguro por qué no? Para quien desee definirlo, hay un gran espacio y aquí hasta fácil se lo hago dejando una especie de iniciativa. Porque tan fácil nos resulta, definir algo que ni entendemos, deseando con ansias quizás en el proceso entendernos un poquito más y saber que carajo es lo que queremos... Mentira, ninguna realmente sabe. Máscara tras máscara, poses tras payasadas e invenciones que ni sabemos usar cuando es necesario, pero tanto poder que tenemos. Que si me comprendo, si me expreso, me conecto, me hago deseable, procuro ser original o simplemente me dejo de pendejadas y decido ser feliz. Si es más fácil o menos difícil ser mujer y llevar a cuestas tal título... pero quien dijo que hay tanto peso en simplemente serlo? no es sólo un género dentro de un grupo de simplemente dos? pues claro que lo es. "Faldita y pantalón"  Como nos encanta cuando lo asumimos como es, que divino sentirlo cuando es real, que fabuloso ser mujer cuando sólo soy y existo, más alla de tanta habladuría de si representamos esto o aquello. Si nos entienden o no, si nos aceptan así o nos transformamos porque podemos (y bien que nos queda). Que maravilloso es lo común pero felices que podemos ser, cual es el empeño en ser diferente? De que se pretende huir tanto es mi pregunta? Ser diferente sin tratar tanto, al intentarlo se cae en ese saco que ya bastante grande es: "mira mira!" Más sencillo aún, por qué nos asumen tan complejas? Esa gama diversa de escalas, igual que cualquier otro ser humano se es tan complejo como te alcance el cerebro, no tiene que ver con género; en caso tal depende la forma en la cual se exterioriza, y vaya hombres que son complejos (jeez)... Es que de pana, que fascinación con encasillarnos todos entre todos. Fíjate como espero esa llamada, o como mis dedos se quedan sobre las teclas esperando una mágica señal para presionar y llamar. "Pura paja, más nada que paja en espacios extra acumulados"  Porque siempre habrán razones para molestarnos de más y siempre habrán aquellos que se encuentren encantados por tan detalladas formas de ser, realmente ser. Igualitas a cualquier otro, ya basta vale... El gato lo dijo clarito, sólo se te permite preguntar el camino si sabes hacia donde vas, mientras no sepas disfruta los tropiezos y las sorpresas de colores que hay y mas nada. Otros esperan que yo sea alguien sólo porque se les ha dado pista hacia tal situación, o si no que pareciera que estoy haciendo aquí? Que divino cuando todo es más simple, que divino cuando se sienten más las cosas detrás de tanta basura mental... Que divino cuando no esperan responda eso que acabo de decir, y dentro de mi, se que no planifiqué ninguna respuesta o estrategia. "Wow.. es que acaso eso le gusto?"  Porque podemos ser tan hombres como lo deseamos, y cuál es el miedo entonces? por qué se piensa que estoy dejando algo para convertirme en otra cosa? qué pasa si nada en lo absoluto se pierde? Me despierto igualito que ayer, quizás con más picardía o distintos sueños que hacer replay. Que especies tan blancas y metódicas cuando realmente no logramos indagar en lo que debería importarnos más, hasta cuando tantos reproches? hasta cuando tantas explicaciones? para donde se van esos esfuerzos si al final del día quien me ve en el espejo soy yo y más nadie?  "la cobarde que escribe tán fácil, facilito"
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