Late Night Call

You have a few drinks, so you make the call thinking that it will satisfy.  But then you realize that the sense of emptiness is more overwhelming than what you thought you could bare.






I hope you're happy with what you did that night you made the late night call.

My Ideal Woman

I created a list long ago, registering every characteristic that is necessary in my ideal woman.  These were traits that I thought would be suitable to match with my own personality; qualities of mind, body, and soul that seemed as logical then as what I thought to be wise.

Experience may have jaded my ability to trust; though I do not regret the heartaches that came and went with the winds of seasons past.  And the eyes that once seduced me no longer share a colour of interest; and the words that once romanticized their world no longer spread their intent in my own.  In the past these were acquired and cherished with my vulnerability, simply because they allowed me to check off an item from the old list of my ideal woman.

But in time, my own personality has changed; it has adjusted to better understand the many predicaments of life.  With this change, my desires for the personality of my ideal woman adapted a new vision.  And now, the person who should balance my asymmetry sits between the corner of experience and a portrait so vague that she becomes impervious to description.

In this present age, my needs and wants have been scripted with a clearer shade of ink, and some of the old features on that list no longer apply to the old fantasy that captivated my desires.

So, today, I write a new list – one that is healthier and more at peace with the logic of my heart.  A list that seals no closure to the possibilities that will come; a list that does not disfigure my personal ambitions for acceptance of what will be.  Today I write the new list of my ideal woman.

You asked me to hate you so that we would not suffer with the letting go

You wanted to make it easy on you because you already had plans of moving on, (and I hope you’re happy with him again).

You showed me your true colours, and your deceits, and your plans for promiscuity while in my absence; all so that I could learn to hate you and let you go.

Well it worked. 

And though hating you would be giving too much credit to your maltreatment of what we used to have, a dislike will suffice for now.

Have a good life!

I loved you like Nature loves the Elements - the uncontained Heart of Nostalgia

I loved you like the Sun loves a clear sky in the noon hours of day; embracing the sounds of Nature’s echoes, playing hide-and-seek with the white of fluffy clouds.

I loved you like the Moon loves a starry night in the eves of twilight; embracing the soothing bursts of fresh air, serenading thoughts to the melodies of crickets that hide their stare.

I loved you like the Elements of our made-up nature – you were Air, and I was Fire, Water, and Earth combined.

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Your breeze intrigued movement to the calm of my ocean - you brought the waves that caressed the surface of desires with your timely stranger influence.  The serene glass turned to currents, and this Water gave life to an oscillating effect of playfulness that only spontaneity could create – and you accompanied my endeavors, acknowledging my thirst to feed my boredom…

Your zephyr caressed the planes of my external empty shell - you brought peace to the shallow planes of commotion with your tender soothing appreciation.  The dried up dessert turned to life, and this Earth gave existence to greener pastures in my own backyard – and you settled in its unstable foundations, claiming shelter for a while…

Your gentle wind whispered a breath to the spark that was lighted dimly in the dark - you brought it to life with your persuasive word.  The glitter turned to Fire, and this Fire gave life to a world of wonders that only the secrets of my pen could describe – and you indulged in its complex elegance, seeing more than I was willing to share…

But like the Seasons come and gone, so did the Sun have to sleep, and the Moon had to retrieve its essence every quarter death.  And as for the Elements that claimed their glory in better lifetimes; their miscarriage was informal, and their time of peaceful interaction was short-lived.

You feared your emotional progress with these Elements was thwarting your natural desire for non-conformity.  You were Air and sought to breathe - to betray the calm before the storm, to create a gap of turmoil, and to continue your games of chasing the unattainable.  You wanted Air alone; you always had.  So you became a gust of wind that was uncontainable, blowing into the extremes of unsettled, unhappy coordinates.  Meanwhile, I remained with the thirst to burn, to bathe, to bare but given no motivation to continue. In the confusion of this sudden appearance, the Elements realized their uproar…

Your verve cast a Tsunami, and the Water destroyed its surroundings.  In a blanket of liquid, time lost its fluidity, drowning in a seascape of bubbles that burst individually and painfully.

Your vivacity created a Sandstorm, and the Earth covered all that was fruitful.  In a blanket of sand, all that once flourished now withered, buried deep under every particle of trust that faded away into oblivion.

Your despair blew out the Light, and the Fire lost its vivid lucidity.  In a blanket of darkness, the secrets averted their truthful demise, readjusting their vision to keep the dimmed spark from fading away with subconsciousness consciousness.

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Reconciliation could not bring harmony to what died during the interaction of our Cosmos.  And the Sun that I loved hid its face from the Moon that I worshipped, never again sharing a space in the sky of dusk or in the dawn of a new day.

The cycle of Seasons of lifetimes before I loved you learned to pause its persistent gamble with Fate.  Air had not yet been taught to co-exist with itself, and the remaining Elements betrayed their reasons under the umbrella of tricks and treasons.

We had not yet acknowledged, (until its timely end after Life), that our beginning had been pre-determined by the strings of Fate’s playful creativity.

But despite the irrational absurdities that wrote our time in another chain of events, I loved you like the Sun, the Moon, and the Elements combined - and that makes blissful this uncontained heart of nostalgia.

Know Your Worth

Sometimes we are deceived by our own illusions and believe that our hopeless romantic ideals will pull through.  Sometimes we forget to understand the value of our own worth and give in to mirages that hold no promises.  Sometimes we rely on another to feel a sense of affection that is so lost in translation – quite often this is the wake up of all stresses that keeps one awake at nights.

Why do we forget our worth?  Why do we not see the clarity of the problem?  Externally speaking, this is not such a complicated equation; one needs only to solve it by taking a step back and realizing that those who would not bother to be attentive to emotions are the ones who deserve you the least.  Internally speaking, it is easier said than done.  Is it due to infatuations of the heart?  Is it attachment to the idea of something inexistent?

We get hurt by someone who refuses to acknowledge our efforts, simply because we laid all our cards on the table, not realizing that all along, the game was being played by a single person.  Sometimes we refuse to see that we’re being foolish for allowing our vulnerability to be revealed to the hands of someone we barely know – because we thought we knew this person, and in the end, their true colours display a different shade of grey.

It is possible that these people never intended to hurt us.  It is probable that they never intended to stick around for a very long time.  They may have seen you as an option or a source of distraction while they sorted out their priorities.  It was you who saw beyond the present moment and took it to the extreme of hopeful measures.

In a way, losing your self-respect is what led you to feel undesired.  Disregarding your self-worth is what let you fall into the abyss of unwantedness, not your partner’s lack of affection.  You expected a change that would benefit you.

If truly you are the type of person who requires emotional attention, think first about your worth and what you feel you deserve, and then ask yourself:  Does this person have what it takes to make me feel satisfied?  If you are seeking for the chemistry that is provided to you through mind, body, and soul, then you must first inquire within if any of these are missing in the person that you’re seeing.  Then you must ask yourself with honesty whether this will be fulfilled by this person’s own will or if you’re being hopeful that it will change… (This is often a tricky task to do because infatuation seems to speak louder than logic at times and we are blinded and tricked into making the wrong decision – until someone gets hurt).

Does this person treat you the way you deserve?

If you’re not in this person’s future plans – if you feel like you are competing for attention because this person has other priorities - then this is not “the one” for you, regardless of how much you want it to be.  The hardest step (the first step) is letting go…

Last night, as she looked into my eyes...

She looked into my eyes and observed their contours as if understanding their composition.  I could not deny that I became fearful of what she would discover as she attempted to read their scars.

These eyes of mine: their history of sadness was displayed like an open book, and yet they made no effort to be hidden; screaming of their discontent, begging for a sign of affection.  But did she notice that?

No.

How could I break it to her without seeming so melodramatic, without drawing attention to my disapproval and to my instincts, which told me she only saw the surface of their glare?

She knows me, but she does not understand me.

She knows of my past, but does not know where I’m coming from.

These eyes are mirrors that cannot simply be stared at nor studied like some strange source of wonder.  I could only reveal so much through their display so as not to seem so vague, but that is not their language.

These eyes: they are fearless and timid; reassured and insecure; wise and inexperienced.

These eyes of mine hold the keys to various stages within my mind – the layers pealed away with every step traveled.

I could not deny entry to the one who seeks to endure the journey of exploring my complicated character, if only she saw past the contour of my eyes…

How the Full Moon affects the Aquarian man

I watched as the morning’s full Moon was swallowed by the ragged edges of Earth’s dawn.  Closer than normal, I could almost sense its breath as it descended into the canyons of darkness and into the depths of another land.  And I was left standing high atop a bridge, thinking of this game of hide-and-seek, feeling the heat of oranges and purples of the Sun rising at my back.  A sense of emptiness…

The birds were protesting the absence of their contemplation, singing at the top of their lungs – could it be that they understood the thoughts running through my head?  It became evident to me that nobody else would…

“Where are you going?” I asked the Moon before it abandoned the sky.

Nowhere in particular, just moving apart for a while…

“For how long?” I asked.

Until you’re ready…

“Ready for what?”

For come what may…

I pondered for a long while, turning minutes into hours, and watching morning turn to dusk.  The birds that had whispered their silence throughout my visit now sat quietly, once more, in between the branches of the trees that surrounded my atmosphere.  I was no longer trapped in a worldly bubble, and yet, the air felt as suffocating as the discomfort of my night upon the short visit of the full Moon.

Quick and distant, my logic had devised a plan to betray my sleep.  Shadows lurking behind me were left unseen, but their presence was felt by the vision of my other senses.  And then the effect of solitude was magnified trice more by the realization that truly, I was alone.

There must be a full moon outside tonight I heard them say as a response to my complaint.  The phrase seemed to be created to help make sense of out-of-the-ordinary happenings that occur within the moods of one being or another.  Was it true? I wondered.  Like the myth of men and werewolves, could the Moon have such a strong effect on the lament of an Aquarian man?

I was having too much of a playtime with my brain.  The horoscopes within could not answer the questions posed – nor could they attempt to soothe the discontent of my mood.

Ojala - Silvio Rodriguez

Ojala que las hojas no te toquen el cuerpo cuando caigan
para que no las puedas convertir en cristal
ojala que la lluvia deje de ser el milagro que baja por tu cuerpo
ojala que la luna pueda salir sin ti
ojala que la tierra no te bese los pasos.

(coro)
ojala se te acabe la mirada constante
la palabra precisa, la sonrisa perfecta
ojala pase algo que te borre de pronto
una luz cegadora, un disparo de nieve
ojala por lo menos que me lleve la muerte
para no verte tanto, para no verte siempre
en todos los segundos, en todas las visiones
ojala que no pueda tocarte ni en canciones

Ojala que la aurora no de gritos que caigan en mi espalda
ojala que tu nombre se le olvide esa voz
ojala las paredes no retengan tu ruido de camino cansado
ojala que el deseo se valla tras de ti
a tu viejo gobierno de difuntos y flores

(coro)

ojala se te acabe la mirada constante
la palabra precisa, la sonrisa perfecta
ojala pase algo que te borre de pronto
una luz cegadora, un disparo de nieve
ojala por lo menos que me lleve la muerte
para no verte tanto, para no verte siempre
en todos los segundos, en todas las visiones
ojala que no pueda tocarte ni en canciones

On self-reflecting, one relearns to understand the "why's"

“Haz las paces con tu pasado para que no destruya tu presente.” – Paulo Coelho

It is sometimes easiest to lay the blame on someone who has hurt you because you’ve distrusted their intent; when you learn about their past and their previous experiences, and you are too keen to paint their image so as to misjudge them and their present tense, simply because of mistakes, (the experiences), that shaped their growth.

It is easiest to overlook our own mistakes than to place our own feet in their shoes, until you take the spectator’s point of view and realize that your own life was not led with perfection, and that you can be misjudged just as easily as you’ve misjudged others.

Look within…

Analyze your own efforts to overcome obstacles – be mindful; however, and careful not to think that you’re the only one.  Others have tried (or are still trying) to learn from their periodical history.  Like you and your past choices, their former lifestyle does not make them any less guilty of wounding another; perhaps led by selfish convictions, and/or perhaps committed by lack of wisdom in the age of youth.

Those who no longer regret their errors are the ones who have already made their peace with these learning experiences and who have become skilled at moving on forward with life.  They are also most aware, (although not always), of their present actions.  And if truly they have gained a sense of understanding of the repercussions in their (emotional and physical) actions, then these are the individuals who will seek to better themselves so as to avoid committing further offenses against another who may walk in their path.

The past always has a way of creeping back; whether it is through the still-shots of images once taken by infatuation, or the words recorded by a moment’s feeling.  It can affect the present just as much as it can affect the future, but only if it has been left unattended and unresolved.

Be mindful, be aware, be at peace.  Live.

Once, when I used to love you, I lost myself. Thank you.

I only requested that you lend me the reassurance that you once promised; that you share the words that once ignored your walls.  I asked that you lend me the affection you so quickly took away after our stage of re-acquaintance, so that I may save face when I confessed my conviction and betrayed my own vulnerability for the sake of your attention.

You said I was childish in my ways, and that I became too predictable. Perhaps, I think, it was because I made myself permeable to your lack of efforts.  The only constant became the swings of emotional imbalances that perplexed the discrepancy of our time together...

And yet, I still loved you because when it was good, it was great; though, when it was bad, it was unforgivable.  The skeptic became beguiled by hopeless optimism.

Your words, (all the false and empty promises you made), hurt me quietly - I became blinded to the scars you were forming above the surface of my heart's tissue, unaware of the trail your games were leaving.

Your perpetual disregard haunted my insomnia and I learned to look within my sense of loss.  The emptiness that was gifted me upon your departure had the bitter-sweet taste of time badly spent.  And it has left a permanent disfigurement of jaded visions, though it only hurt temporarily in a clock with no time.

I once used to love you, yes, and it felt mutual.  Though now I know you lied.

But thank you.

Thank you for reminding me of my un-evolved realization that you were my favourite mistake.  My lovely muse, simple and complicated; my play on words.

In the distance of eternity, I will recall your unstable embrace, your irregular displays of affection, and your empty shell of beauty.

Because I once used to love you and that will never change.