Keep trying

I keep trying, it is not the easiest way, actually it is the most complicated one, just to keep pushing your luck, or your astrological chart every now and then, whatever you want to call it, it is not the easiest way, but I keep trying. I keep trying cause I dont know any other way, is just a game of seeing what is going to happens, maybe I will get lucky sometime and whwnever I expected there you go, you have it.

It is painful, I have been trying for the past three years, all over again in different circumstances, with different tactis, at different moments. Believe I have tried, I have tried as I guess I never thought I would, in a way I was not expecting and im doing the best I can. Yes, I keep trying cause maybe I still have faith in me, or the others, or both, maybe because deep inside something can change and something can be done, maybe because I am right, or wrong, and I have to prove it to myself.

Oh yes I keep trying, every now and then, when I get the chance, when I feel I have the chance, and I just go for it, unfortunately I guess I have to keep on trying since none of the past attempts have worked out properly. Of course it has its downside, you always doubt about if you should still or not try, and go on, or just forget about and accept it once and for all and move on, and take that step that will change your life forever.

I might, Im in that precise moment in time where I could do it, just like that, nothing to lose, no regrets, nothing behind, nothing ahead, just take that step and everything around will be different, but then again I will continue to try for sure if I feel I have to. Still it is a good choice, but decisions have to be made quickly, this moment in time is just a little door that opens for a brief period and you have to go in or close it and wait for the next one, but you never know, sometimes it can take less time or more, usually you have to wait a lot which means that maybe you are just missing that chance, and there are not going to be many more coming ahead.

Now that again because I tried I find myself in the same, or worse, place than I was before it might be my last chance, I really wished that this last effort would work, but I guess it didn't, I was deceived again by words and actions, by despair and my own naiveness, which again is the most strong weapon against myself and maybe I just wont learn.

I keep trying, I still have faith in me, sort of, I guess I still have faith in others, in words, in looks, in life and in destiny, or I just dont believe any of it anymore and then im just trying because it is my will. I just keep trying cause there is no other thing to do, I still think if I keep going my odds are getting better and then someday I will finally have to stop. I might just stop now, im tired, I dont want to do it anymore...................


Letter to Juliette

You're still here, but it seems to me that you have gone a long time ago. It seems you have vanished form all the good hearts of men, and have left a bittersweet flavour in my mouth. I will miss you, as I missed you even before I met you. Where have you been all my life?, where are you going to be?. I will go and find you, but if you left is because for sure your heart needs new horizons, and for sure mine will not mingle with yours anytime soon.

Why did our love had to end by taring apart or souls and lose the fire in our eyes, so our hearts are becoming colder and we no longer hope for us. You have left, and I still stay in the same place where I find you for the first time, might be the place where you find me, where I stood, seems for centuries, just waiting for you, you came, you caressed my spirit and from that day on, only ight has come in my way.

Now youre gone, maybe forever, maybe you were never here, perhaps is just a fragment of my imagination and all those long days and nights that I have dreamed about you, seems like centuries. Now I only have the brief momentos of your smile, the sweet and hipnotizing colour of your eyes that just looked at the world with such love and no prejudice at all.

I only have left those tiny memories of those moments where time didnt exist and I just went away with the sound of your words, travelling to such amazing worlds beyond comprehension, where no man can have access unless you let them in,

Now you're gone, there is nothing left. The streets start to take its grey colour again, and the fog just comes down the road, messing my way back home. I feel cold, but free. I feel sad, but I smile every time I stand in the same corner, the one that I will never forget, when I first saw your eyes deep into my soul. I would have the tiny memories as part of a small book of joy that I will keep and read everyday that I walk the lonely streets by myself, and I will be only for you, and no one else. I will stay here, as usual, you know where to find me if you decide to come back.


The complexities of being alive

You know, this game of life is full of surprises. Sometimes you dont even expect that some things may happen, some times what you think might happen never does. But then again this journey is full of strange rides and hidden roads that you just take when you have to make a choice. Life is about choices, to live or die, to do or not, to follow the rest or yourself, to stay or to leave.

Suddenly she appeared, as many things do in life just because, and then something changes, something is different and the road in front of you seems to open up to new possibilities. The only problem that this almost perfect things usually dont happen to you, certainly not to me, Im not the kind of guy that has encountered all this good things in life just because, so it makes it a little harder to believe.

I sometime thing that it might be an hallucination, I feel her whispering in my ear, sometimes in dreams, sometimes in the most strange situations you can imagine. Sometimes I think of her, she just pops into my mind and for few seconds everything seems to stop while she remains there, like an angel trying to say something to me, and then she vanishes. She has told me a lot of things, usually advices of how can I change things around me, sometimes just words of encouragment to be brave and do something, sometimes I feel that maybe she tells me things because she has a lot to say and I listen.

One of the really rare things is that sometimes I feel none of this is true, I cant be possibly hearing what om hearing, or seeing what im seeing, this is not what I am supposed to be, this is not how usually things are supposed to be. I might be getting slightly insane, and then im just imagining all this possiblities ahead, hearing to voices and thinking that she is out there talking to me. Im clueless and disarmed, there some magic that just keeps me going and going, there is this special scent in the air that tells me to keep going without asking any questions.

Sometimes I feel the need to hug her, sometimes silence is just perfect so maybe we can read both our minds and communicate with the innerself that is lying underneath all this human desguise that we have to show. Sometimes I just want to listen, sometimes I want to run away and sometimes I would love to stay. Its hard as well to say a lot of things, maybe because there is this on believer inside that keeps kidnapping words that can never see the light, and I just remain there in silence watching the sun come down while silence just comes in between us and sometimes I just wish that would remain forever, just talking without words but with whats inside, but sometimes I wish I could just free myself form the little demons and talk.

She just appeared, as many things in life unexpectedly, some say that the best things in life come that way, they might be wrong, thay might be right, I am a non believer at the moment, Im just trying to figure out what is it that has made this moment different. She stays, or at least I think she is now, Im afraid she might leave before I do, Its always easier to leave first, but im just staying, something makes me stay, wait, breathe, something tells me to remain just exactly where I am.

As everything in life you have to choose, I havent chose to stay or to leave yet, although Ill need to do something about it eventually, she will never go away, even if I go away from her, and everything will be just exactly as I want to remember it, everything just as it is now and there will be no end to the history. I want to stay, is a choice, I hope she wants to stay, I hope we can just understand each other, with words, signs, silence, whispers or just by being what we are, whatever that is.

As most strange things in life im just here, she just came, everything is not how it usually is, my life doesn't do this kind of things to me, is not what she is used to do, but then again life is fiull of this surprises that you ust dont know what to do. I still hear her whisper in my ear, some dreams come and go, some things are still the same, some things have changed, I can still listen to the silence that breaks in between, sometimes I just want to not do, to do whatever is in my hands to never go back again. I choose to not choose, I choose to not want to choose.

Maybe one day Ill have to choose in between leaving or staying, maybe she one day will have to choose to go back to the shadows or remain in the light. Maybe we will both have to choose to just not choose, or maybe just as all weird things in life she will just go as she came, and I will only remember it as a dream, as one of those things that you never know if they were real or not, and as a memory and a reminder of how strange everything can be.

I know the answer, I know. I know she knows in some way, but it doesn't matter, I know, and perhaps I could tell her, in dreams, by whispering to the wind, or simply but being quiet and looking to the horizon, but I know, and im just waiting, dont know for what, but waiting endlessly.......


Find a way

I should have seen you smile,
you should have seen me cry,
maybe the inevitable silence
would've make our souls talk

I should out there that night,
while you cried to the pale moon light.
If I had just been in your way,
maybe you would let me stay

I need to push you away
I need to push you away
If I stay it would be so unfair
Life has made up its mind
and I'm just in the way.

You said follow your heart,
but everytime I do it all fades away.
Wont get crazy
as long as I no longer stay...

I need to push you away
I need to push you away
If I stay it would be so unfair
Life has made up its mind
and I've lost my way.

I should have seen you cry,
you should have seen me smile,
now frozen tears will come out
and I'll just keep them till the right time comes,
You wont see me cry,
maybe not even smile,
I wont be there if you do,
We wont care if we do.

I need to push you away
I need to push you away
If I stay it would be so unfair
Life has made up its mind
I have lost my my way,
I need to find my way.....


Quiero no querer

Fue como una dulce brisa de primavera, corta pero lo suficientemente fuerte para traer de vuelta todos esos recuerdos que uno no quiere recordar. Algo cambió sin embargo, el aroma es distinto, las palabras menos directas, verdades reveladas de la manera más trivial, sólo una cosa permaneció igual, el paso del tiempo, ese que a veces parece correr o que parece quedarse estático, el tiempo permaneció igual que siempre y corrió a la velocidad que debía correr.

Casi todo fue como antes, solamente que precisamente el mismo tiempo ha pasado, las sensaciones han cambiado de dirección y algunas otras cosas, pero algo se mantiene de igual manera. El tiempo, el tiempo lo puede todo, hasta puede con la vida, pero a pesar de que pase y pase algunas cosas simplemente parecen que están ahí por siempre, y un flash instantáneo de recuerdos se viene a la mente como si fuera ayer y permanecen con vida artificial por horas, a veces demasiadas. Quiero no querer, porque si quiero se que luego me arrepentiré por haber querido querer y luego saber que no debí haber querido.

Ha pasado y seguirá pasando hasta que quizás simplemente otra brisa me arrastre a otros lugares menos escabrosos y donde no haya necesidad de tantas cosas de las que ya no entiendo nada y de las cuáles me interesa saber poco. Ando regurgitando los años y las pocas horas que quedan, las que se fueron y esas que estuvieron ahí y lo que me he perdido por querer no querer para ahorrarme el suplicio. Tiempo después todo cambia y otras cosas permanencen en el mismo lugar, entre esas esos segundos y minutos de sonrisas y lágrimas y penas que no se ahogan en el alcohol u otras cosas porque desdichadamente son más sagaces que yo y siempre me burlan.

He decidio querer no querer porque luego si quiero todo se vuelve un problema inmenso, no realmente, pero siempre es bueno ponerle un poco de drama a las cosas insignificantes si no la vida no tendría ninguna emoción. Por lo menos no soy de esos que quieren y no quieren y terminan más enredados que cúando realmente quieren o no querer, yo por lo menos quiero no querer y eso basta, el drama siempre será la esencia básica de cualquier mal final de telenovela, pero al menos será recordado.

Siempre hay que escoger el camino menos transitado porque aunque parezca aburrido muchas veces contiene más recompensas, reales, que las del camino en el que todos están, como haciendo fila para ir al matadero, yo al menos me voy a morir sin filas, sin reclamos y sin tener que esperar más de lo necesario, he eliminado del camino todo aquello que estorba, que ahora se encuentra del otro lado y por eso prefiero no querer para no tener que pedir turno y hacer lo que no sé hacer y que no quiero aprender.

Fue como una brisa de primavera, de esas que suceden de vez en cuando, que pasan y dejan algo, pero al mismo tiempo se llevan más de lo que traen, quizás porque el truco está en ir dejando de a poco todo en el aire, para así no tener que pensar si quiero o no quiero, porque en ese momento simplemente todo se habrá deslizado por mis manos.


Cuentan la historias

Esto se ha convertido en una especie de novela de esas a las que nos han acostumbrado, que sin embargo seguimos viendo y leyendo porque no, en dónde las cosas se vuelven incansablemente predecibles y todos sabemos como va a terminar el cuento. Lo irónico del asunto es que en estos momentos, mi cuento no sé ni para dónde va, no sé ni siquiera si ya comenzó, ya terminó o mi libretista esta falto de inspiración y ha entrado en un limbo que me tiene en vilo esperando y esperando a que llegue la musa y finalmente pueda terminar lo que comenzó.

Es por eso que de pronto puedo estar estático percibiendo las historias de los demás, la misma novela con otro título y diferentes protagonistas, ahora como el mío, ese escritor perezoso que debe estar por ahí ahora divagando en otros mundos, mientras yo permanezco esperando saber como termina mi historia. No tengo más opción que observar a mis semejantes y leer la historia, lo que me sorprende y no a la vez es que para muchas de esas historias que estoy leyendo ya sé el final, sé como va a terminar todo y aunque no puedo escribir con certeza las últimas palabras, porque no me corresponde, he dilucidado el final de cada una de las historias en un gran porcentaje.

Es quizás porque somos demasiado predecibles, porque hasta yo lo soy de manera impredecible a veces, lo cual hace predecible mi impredicibilidad, si es que eso tiene algún significado, pero otros son solamente predecibles, no tiene nada de malo y nadie debería sentirse mal por ser predecible, fuímos creados para eso, nuestro propósito siempre ha sido predecible, que más que nacer para luego morir y morir desde que se nace, no hay nada más predecible a veces irónico, hipócrita y triste de lo que llamamos vida. Por lo tanto es el ser predecible no es malo, solamente es predecible y puede tender a la aburrición, sobretodo cuando uno está esperando el final de la propia historia y puede leer el final de los demás, muchas terminan en lo mismo otras son más complejas pero tienen tientes de humanidad que no se pueden evitar y por lo tanto esos tintes revelan toda la predicibilidad latente en cada uno de nosotros.

El problema radica en que ya no hay nada emocionante desde que se sabe el final de la historia, no se trata de ser pretencioso créanme sin querer queriendo como decía aquél famoso personaje he dado con los capítulos siguientes de las diferentes sagas que hay en el momento. No puedo decir que he acertado en un 100% pero bueno ahi voy, y no han sido una ni dos, sino varias. A veces pienso que debí ser antropólogo, o psicólogo o sociólogo, creo que hay una capacidad de esas que todo el mundo tiene por ahí escondidas que me permiten poder leer fácilmente los libretos, delinearlos y finalmente deducir lo elemental de cualquiera de nuestras películas. No sé, no me gusta ya poder predecir y no sentir sorpresa alguna con las historias. Cada vez me parece más un rebaño de ovejas que bramidos distintos y tonos de lana diferentes y por lo tanto el destino de aquellos rebaños ya todos lo conocemos aunque nunca pensamos en ello.

Es divertido leer las historias ajenas porque más allá de saber o no que va a suceder las similitudes con nuestra propia historia es tal que todo toma un color diferente y un significado totalmente distinto, al final en medio del rebaño estamos todos, lo intersante es ver entre tantas ovejas cúantas salen negras y la historia toma ese tono que precisamente pasará como algo de ficción, de esas cosas extrañas, surreales, utópicas y paradójicas en la existencia, precaria y joven, de la humanidad.

Igual quiero que mi "escritor", las comillas son importantes porque ahora pueden determinar a qué me refiero o no cuando lo digo, se levante pronto, o por lo menos se despabile, se tome un café bien negro, deje tanta vagabundería y porquería por ahí y se ponga a trabajar otra vez, a menos que la historia haya llegado a su fin o al menos la primera parte......