I write

"You know you're gold, you don't gotta worry none"

Two insomniac nights fueled by a trip. I speak on the phone; sin saber de que hablar más que de trivialidades. I listen to music; sin saber en que más pensar sino en la que está lejos. Zebra. Beach House. Repeat. Zebra. Beach House. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

And I see the morning sun hoping that my words will be enough to keep me going, to give my spirit the on-going calm I want. Then, I shut my blinds and the sun gets muffled, asilenciado, como la leyenda esa que me contaron de niño y que al dormir desaparecía. Por supuesto que daba miedo; por supuesto. How to forget it? Forgetting it was out of the question. Sin embargo, al día siguiente, me desperté agradecido y contento de saber lo que había escuchado. No había nada por lo que temblar. They were words and they were my thoughts.

I did not go to the gym today. I did not. I just called hoping the phone would get picked up in a far away place. I called hoping to hear a familiar voice. My two wishes came true. We talked and my soul now feels calmer. Siento que Morfeo me habla y me dejaré llevar por él hacía la tierra de los sueños en la que, quizá, le vea. A true dream.

Happiness

Some one told me that happiness is something you choose.

I chose to walk today under the sun.
I chose to ask questions and get answers.
I chose to give up at the right time.
I chose to bend my hands when needed to.
I chose to listen to sad music that makes me happy.
I chose choosing the right arms.
I chose letting it go.
I chose to say something.
I chose to chose.

At the end, I am surprised. The validity of this argument needs yet to be proven but I can say for sure that today I felt and feel better than in these past couple of weeks.

Baby

Baby, I can see you through our window, (Baby, I can see you through my window)
while you pour a glass of vino (while you feel the disappointment)
and light up a cigarette (and swallow up, whole, your pride).

Baby, could you tell me what's hurting? (Baby, would you tell why you are coming)
Why you drink in this mourning morning? (Why you tombstone is not important?)
Was it me or was it him? (Was it you? Was it the rain?)

A sardonic vision of your future, (A promising vision of your next one)
made me love you even more. (made me hate you even more more)
You didn't know you were fucked up (I didn't know I was fucked up)
But I knew it all along. (But we knew it all)

Now you see the butterflies (Can you see now? Your heart flies.)
and finally believe in them. (He, finally, believes in it.)

Would you believe in human kind?
It'll put an end to your tears.

Penélope

I wake up at dawn, dreaming I don't know what.
I have breakfast with rain and I remember you over coffee.
I dreamt your figure far away,
waiting in the suburbs of oblivion
and I saw me setting sail on golden ships
that I had filled with presents for you
and then I saw that because of jealousy the sea of my torments,
swallowed the ship and that crazy one who was me.
And everything shipwrecked.

How far you are, how far I am.
The debris of my life slide with the rain
forgetting Penelope.

I abandon my self to the waves, they spit me out of the sea.
Years have gone by, no one knows where you are.
The deserted streets at night
and your face is drawn in my memory.
The trees hug themselves
like skeleton woods in the rain
my dream shipwrecked.

How far you are, how far I am.
It rains mint tears and I get drunk with sorrow
forgetting Penelope.
How far you are, how far I am.
The debris of my life slide with the rain.
forgetting Penelope.
I refuge in taverns and become taciturn
Forgetting Penelope.
How far you are, how far I am
what is left of my life I spend it in the hovels
remembering Penelope.

Me despierto en el alba soñando no sé qué
desayuno con lluvia y te recuerdo en el café.

Soñé tu figura lejos, esperando en los suburbios del olvido (Penélope)
y me vi solo, zarpando en barcos de oro que llené con regalos para tí
y luego vi que por celos el mar de mis tormentos. Se tragaba el barco,
el tesoro y aquel loco que era yo y todo naufragó.

Que lejos tú, que lejos yo,
los escombros de mi vida se deslizan con la lluvia
recordando a Penélope.

Me abandono a las olas, me escupen del mar.
han pasado los años, nadie sabe en dónde estas.
Las calles desiertas por las noches
y tu cara se dibuja en mi memoria
los árboles, se abrazan, como bosques de esqueletos
en la lluvia, y mi sueño naufragó.

Qué lejos tú, qué lejos yo.
Llueven lagrimas de menta y me emborracho de amargura
olvidando a Penelópe.
Qué lejos tú, qué lejos yo.
Los escombros de mi vida se deslizan por la lluvia
olvidando a Penelópe.
Me refugio en las tabernas y me vuelvo taciturno
olvidando a Penelópe.
Qué lejos tú, qué lejos yo
lo que queda de mi vida lo malgasto en los tugurios
recordando a Penelópe.

Weekend

You pull the string and the light goes off. She says good night. You lie there with her; memories, kisses and laughs. She enters your room (you had been waiting for it while reading a book of old stained pages) and lays on top of you as you put the words aside. You get under the blankets and grab a book. You say good night and embrace the last hug of the night; or at least that's what you think. You, you and her, come back home late at night after displaying a secret many people knew about. You wash the dishes and clean your kitchen while she sleeps on your sofa under your blanket. You pick up the bowl she filled with cereal and milk fifteen minutes ago. You wake up and she is not there; cleaning time.

She tells you that you should go to sleep to your room. You ask her if you could sleep with her tonight, after having fallen asleep while she was resting in your lap watching one of your favorite shows. You put the sofa bed away around four in the afternoon because you think it has been enough watching TV and enjoying her sleep in your arms for that day. You explain to her that your sofa pulls out to a bed and you both decide to lay there and watch movies in a Saturday morning. You wake up in her mattress that rests on top of her box spring; you were cold that night but your soul was sold in peace.

The night ends as it should have ended. You both come back from a concert that started way too late. Walking home is not as terrible when you have her besides you, grabbing your arm. You ask her to go home. You and her are upstairs kissing and hugging in the midst of dancers, the music plays loudly. Downstairs, you kiss her. You tell her that you like her. She tells you that she likes you. The two of you order a couple of drinks from the bar. You and her come into the bar and pay the eight dollars they were charging. She brings you a beer; you pour her a drink. You fill the flask in preparation for the night. You both drink after taking showers. You look at her and cannot stop admiring her beauty. You talk to her and you like her.