Thursday, September 18, 2014

Too much going on my soul... too much to be done...

Is there any kind of medicine to let go of such feelings? Is there anything out there to help me through this madness? Is there anything at all?

I just deleted that stupid third blog. It was there, doing nothing. I still need to take some time to edit all those that I have. Too many mistakes that need to be corrected. Too many things that need to be deleted.

I can't be bothered to think about everything that needs to be done now. I have so much to think about. There is just too much going on my soul...

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

I don't dance

I went out last night. I went out, dragged by an older and crazy woman, who keeps repeating that I am her best friend. If I really were her best friend, she wouldn't endanger my stuatin at home, by dragging me out a whole night and still trying to take me to placeswhere drug is dealed on every corner of the streets. After a whole night in discos, I left her in a cab in the middle of Lisbon and walked alone and fucked up to the closer train station to come home. I went t have a coffee at the gas station, before heading hme and finding my mother fuming like a dragon and almost threatening to beat me. If only she were able to try.
In the discos, in the middle of Cais do Sodré, I saw people dancing. Then again, I was feeling lost and not suiting on it. People dance and lose themselves to dance. People try to conquer others through the dance. When the look at me, I turn my face aside in disgust and despise. I don't care about them. I wouldn't go, like she wanted to, wth any of them to home. There are easier and faster ways to get fucked.
I don't dance. I don't like to be in the middle of the dance floor. I don't like to be surrounded by people. I enjoy nights out in my corner. I do enjoy to stay hidden, watching others dancing and jumping around. I need to watch them and to keep my eyes open for any possible danger.
I don't dance. I do not relax that much to dance. I am always aware of what I am doing.
Do not call me to dance. Do not stick others' attention over me, as you try to pull me to dance and I keep avoiding you and your dance.
You feel young. You are young. My body is 27 years old. My soul is 270. Or even older. I am not the kind of person one would want or desire. I don't want or desire myself either.
The night felt longer. Almost like if I have spent a whole week inside those wicked discos. One gay disco. One disco of rock music. One disco of reggae. People, people, people... a fucking city, full of people.
I don't dance.
I want to go away. I want to move to the village where my grandparents used to live. It's almost desert. No disco, no music, barely no people...
I don't dance!

Monday, September 15, 2014

No plans, no dreams...

I was planning to do a few stuffs with the money that I have gotten from my aunt yesterday (she's actually my mum's aunt). At first, I thought about saving it to get a new phone from a different network operator, but it would take me a while to get the necessary money. Then, I thought i would send out a few letters. After that, I thought about keeping the money for as long as possible. But as you already know, I am not trustwhorty when it comes about making plans and keeping up with what I have previously planned. So I have bought a bunch of paper, four coloured pens that I'll use on my letters and I am sending away, at least one of three packages that I have left in my room and that should have been previously sent.
Now, after a crazy night with a terrible dream (that has started as a pornographic stuff), after a terrible fright in the streets, that almost caused me an heart attack, here I am, writing down, as I haven't done in a while. When I was walking down the streets of the city, I thought that I wouldn't plan anything. Then again, it would be useless and pointless - we all know on what it would end up.

So I have decided to stop planning everything and anything. I am just letting go of all this madness and enjoy stuffs the way they are and the way they appear to be. I am not going to plan anything in the closer times. I know it's just a waste of time and plans always tend to seem cursed from the beggining.

I know that I should arrive home earlier, mum. I also know that I should be working to have a good life, but I am far from being the perfect son that you've possibly dreamt of. I am nothing of what you or anyone might dream of.
I know that I should leave the streets aside, to live my life in a different way. I know that i should work on getting it all fixed and less troubled up. But I am naturally troubled up: haven't all those stuffs taught you anything?
I am going on dreams and fantasies of sex, lust with little pieces of love: like chocolate in the top of cookies. And the targets of my affections are always the wrong ones. The target of my obsession is always the one who cares not and the one who will never ever be mine.

Maybe one day, I will walk in silence... ashes in the air... the rain of stars... and death, fear, dreams, fantasies, pain will all be just distant memories!

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Flying high on doubts...

What's left of my sanity?!
What's left of all my madness?!
Where are my castles?! My towers and my knights?! Where's my Empire??!!
Why do I see so much smoke?! Where is the fire?!
What happened to the woods?! Why there are so many buildings?! Are they forts?!

I need to calm down my spirit. I need to let go of all this madness. I need to let go of my curses and my wounds. I need to calm my demons down. I need to stop being a paranoid asshole...  I don't know how to be, if not myself. I don't know to where I belong. I need to leave the night spirits of the city. I need to get over their spells.

Where are my familiar faces, without secrets and lies? Where are my familiar streets? Where will all this end?

And now I have no idea...

I'm just flying high!