Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from February, 2014

Something different

Call me idiot!
Call me... something.
Just call me something. It means that I am alive and causing a reaction.
I don't care. I really don't care anymore. What's been left... it shall remain there.
Strange days after sleepless nights cause strange reactions.
There are times that I hope things get well. Things do seem to be in the right path to get well. Things seem to be in the right path to be OK and here comes something... another sinful thought. Another sinful and suicidal act.
The streets of the city know me too well. I need to get a new city to rule. I need to get new streets to walk through. People... I need to get out of here, where I do enjoy a certain fame. Fame is somehow my security and this security is uncomfortable. I fear. I do fear from times to times and it is not the kind of fear that I have tasted a few years agos, before start walking the night streets, before knowing most of the dark shadows sitting or smoking at every dark corner.
Flying rolling papers.…

feelings I don't want to taste again: love!

A little forgetting note

I just fell down, in a small stairway aside to the builing where my aunt lives at. My knee and my wrist are hurting. My hand is bothering me too. It's OK, just a little wound.
People are asking if everything's OK with me. I am too quiet, they say. I am OK, I just feel a bit sad with no reason, but I am fine. Or I think I am fine.
I have ideas for that secret blog of mine, but I still haven't writen any down. Friends and their jokes... how sweet is revenge in the secret of my words. But still, it's just ideas.
I am OK. I am not. What's wrong? I have no idea.
In the last couple nights, fog hitted the city. Cars pass by and once again it seems that there's another stalker driving in the streets of the city. When the same car passes around the place where you're at, can it still be considered paranoia? If so, after some recent events, call me paranoid then. I don't mind and I'm used to it.
I am wondering and wandering. I wander around, getting highed, w…

I don't understand

I don't understand... I don't understand why do I get this obsessed.
I get obsessed with people. I get obsessed with situations. I get obsessed with words. And still I don't understand my obsessions! I still don't understand why do I choose such feelings. It is strange that I let myself go through this, yet I wouldn't like to feel anything else.
I don't understand my being. I don't understand my soul. Yet I wouldn't like any other one different, I don't understand what bursts within my soul and I wander. I wander around, in night walks through the streets, I wander through people, I wander through dreams, fantasies and obsessions. I cry. But my tears are dry. I scream. But my voice is silent. Years pass by and I get older. Older but not wiser.
I don't understand this love o' mine for the voices I love, for the dangers I hug and embrace, for the eyes I choose to look at.
I don't understand myself and yet I wouldn't like to be any dif…