I'm tired of pretending to be something I am not

I'm tired of pretending to be something I am not, I am not an artist no matter how mush I’d like to be one.... I don't have the knack for it, the eye to it... I lack education in it... I am destined to be file clerk... it doesn't particularly bother me as login as I get a nice apartment and cable TV...

I can be content.

I am willing to... no grandeur, no glory... no art; just life where I can be lazy and comfortable.

Pride is killing me... art is so pretentious... and I'm already lazy to be that pretentious. I need just one capital sin to define me, having two is exhausting... oh so exhausting...

... I have this feeling....

Something is wrong, something I can’t precisely put my finger on...

It happened again today.

I was eating lunch, and all the sudden I started crying, this is not healthy.

but I don't really know why is it, I don't know what's going through my mind except this feeling of frustrated dreams... some sort of exhaustion from creation that leads nowhere...

(6 days late)

Get wet out in the rain . . . bad idea

So I take one Last chance and get him to get wet out in the rain . . . bad idea. 

I’m tired of pushing so I'm seeing my boyfriend, once a week, tops. So what do I do? Convince myself. When he is not around, that we just aren't meant to be together.

I'm even avoiding him. Didn’t let him join me for TV class, or see him on Saturday when he is sick.

He seems Un-aware of this.

We haven't discussed batman or the music I Shared with him. Or Peter Pan. Or my script for my new video, or wedgies or slime, or mud. Or him coming out to his Sister. Or my childhood traumas or his comics.

(27 days late)

And I almost ran out of faith...

And I almost ran out of faith... and I almost ran out of love.

The year I took a bus, the year I had sex, the year I fell in love, The year of Len, of josh... and the Prince, the year harry potter ended, the year of the golden compass, the year of my suicide...

I was going to join him and his guys as they have a drink at the Francesa... and it turned out that I not being with them was a relief...

I was going to wait for the prince to teach me about Paul Klee, Andy Warhol, and Marcel Duchamp... I don’t think he really wants me to know... maybe he just think I’m too dumb to understand...

I was going to Play Final Fantasy VII, Zelda... I apparently I’m also to dumb undisciplined for this...

I was going to get him, gunged and slimed....

I was going to go out with him... Daniel and Aiacos, watch them fight... I ruined this... by being myself... he will never let me see them again... god... I was surrounded by people like them my entire school... and never enjoyed it... I wanted to... I just never knew how... I wanted him to teach me how.... I so wanted to have friends... and not feel old... I want to be reckless and immature... tell them about my wedgies, my fetishes... tell them about our sex... I want to fight you in the mud my prince... or at least watch them... but no.... it’s too late and I wrecked it... now they think only awful things about me...

I was going to wait and see if we draw together... he was going to teach me... and I feel I can’t draw anymore...

He was going to explain me about the Surrealist Revolution...

He was going to teach me French, Japanese and Hebrew from him... I don’t even know how was this ever going to happen...

He was going to introduce me to Natalia as she introduced him her new girlfriend... but I somehow convinced him I just don’t know how to have fun... and maybe I don’t...

He was going to teach me about indie rock... He doesn’t share his music... my fault... for handing back a headphone.

We were going to watch shotacon together... and I turned out to be a fucking asexual... uncomfortable to be around with....

We were going to go out and get wet in the rain: he doesn’t enjoy it... he just feels ugly and uncomfortable... I felt old...

We were going to have proper sex... and I apparently have the sexual age of an 8 year old... I don’t watch porn...

We were going to see the golden compass... he hated going to the movies with me...

We were going to play board games with my sisters... he hates playing games...

We were going to take glamour pictures of us... I’m an awful photographer... I disappointed him so badly last time...

We were going to go and see Adolf... I will feel ugly while doing so...

So what exactly the New Year holds for me?

Getting kidnapped to Sweden

Getting a double grad program in Spain

Getting a summer job in the us

This is one of the miracles of love: It gives a power of seeing through its own enchantments and yet not being disenchanted

New plans to make and disappoint him... new ways of do self-sabotage... All this is product of me missing him... I miss him to much... it’s starting to hurt me... maybe he just doesn’t love me enough to send me a text message on the cellphone... maybe he doesn’t love me enough to let me be with him on his birthday... maybe he doesn’t love me enough to comment on MySpace... maybe he doesn’t love me enough to want me to join him to wherever he goes... maybe he just doesn’t love me enough to answer my emails (its only polite)... maybe he doesn’t love me enough to push me... and teach me how to enjoy the things he enjoys...

What I really want with this entry is to make all of the said above to happen... not plant it and force it to happen... but just tell the universe... I want this to happen!!! I need this... because I don’t feel like killing myself anymore... I feel like wanting to live... just a little bit...

In wonderland

It’s not a whim...

It not... I'm not... little boy that whines, because life sucks, because no one understands him...

I am losing my mind...

I don't think it’s my secret desire to be special... to feel special , it’s not I'm pretending to be something I'm not.... I'm truly losing my mid... It just stops making sense sometimes, like, if my train of thoughts started going in circles...

it been going on for some times... its stare with me wondering around the house, just walking... people in school used to mention I spoke to myself, this was never intentional, I am never aware of this... but I do. My little sister notices sometimes... she finds it funny...

Lately, it’s been getting worse.

I'm dropping things all over the place... I was the neatest guy ever, it was psychotic... my room now... is a disaster... peopled asks me for things, I hand them something else... I can’t seem to keep a pen with me over a week... I forget to do homework's... I literally forgot the face of my teacher...

I never remember to put the milk back in the fridge... everyone snaps at me.

I find myself asking myself... what I was thinking. What am I doing? What am I saying?

Today the creepiest thing happened... I called the prince on the phone... I just forgot, what I was going to tell him... it took me a while before I started making any sense... he noticed...

Not having the cell phone at hand... also relieves me from the remorse of not calling anyone to say good bye...

I failed again... I know...

but I'm not planning months ahead, it’s just a week... soon it will be days... the I will be planning for tomorrow... and then... then I will make it...

I can kill myself, I can do it....

I can, I can... I can...

See... I'm spinning again? Maybe this is why I can‘t writes a lineal story any more... my book... I can’t seem to focus and tell the story form beginning to end... neither on video... things is becoming increasingly abstract...

I was a very reserved person... now I'm telling the entire class that I'm suicidal, now, I'm showing my half naked boyfriend to the world... I say the most inappropriate things in the library....

I'm so... anguished... so....

I've been writing this entry for a week...

(59 days late)

De profundis

 De profundis

Have mercy on all that is lost

because they say that it was written that way 

and in the grave is made earth 

without asking why!

Have mercy on them, have mercy on me,

on me who seeks answers 

- with a loving heart, oh my God - 

In those things that make no sense ...

As soon as I glimpse something 

to guide me from darkness to light, 

my destiny throws me back into 

my deep and cold night ...

Have mercy, my God, on my hopelessness, 

have mercy on the flame that I spill in vain, 

have mercy on me, exasperated, 

of living without a goal, of living without reason

(Version taken from the Arquitrave Magazine)

 On January 7, 1944, the Greek poet Napoleon Lapathiotis voluntarily ended his life. Lapathiotis lived most of his 56 years in poverty and scandalized Greek society for his gay lifestyle, his addiction to opium and his sympathy for communism.

The discomfort caused by the lifestyle of the poet is presented in the movie "Meteor and shadow" Directed by Takis Spetsiotis

A Xag-less week

A Xag-less week and I'm not feeling good.My face is still swollen and it hurts...yesterday I got a fever; they almost take me to urgencies. I may have an infection. I had to lie down yesterday...If don't improve; they're going to have to take to the hospital...I miss Xag terribly...I feel SO alone without him...what are you doing?What are you planning?What are you thinking?How are you feeling?Now that I think about it... December 23d seems SO far away....very, very far...I already feel like I stop seeing him for a month...time's funnyNot reading his blog is going to be the toughest test ever...I don't know if I can make it...we were supposed to do a lot of things...take a shower again, have sex, go and get wet in the rain, take glamour pictures of us, go and see Adolf, we were going to see Beowulf, he was going to join me to get a haircut, he was going to explain me how to dye my hair, I was going to spend the night at his house, we were going to go out with my friends, go out with his friends....I practically made my whole holiday vacation thinking I was going to do all that stuff with him. It seems so awkwardly interrupted...like in the first month I got suspended from seeing him...I miss him alreadyThis "break up" it’s so unnecessary...when I became his boyfriend (even before that) I assumed all his problems, his traumas, his videos...I love him that way, he's not hurting me with the way he is. I even accepted the fact that he's going to die someday, I listened to his motivations and I'm trying to harvest the sad and cruel idea that he's going to kill himself someday...but even with that, I love him...I like him the way he is...all of him...If you have problems I'll be there to help you, If you're crying you can have my shoulder, If you're alone I'm here to hug you, If you're hurt I'll lick your wounds, If you're dry you can kiss me, If you're cold you can have my body, If your soul is broken you can have mine...I'm here, I'm here for you.I'm not josh...I'm old enough to know the consequences...I won't cut myself in front of you...I know we need to be together, doesn't matter how hurt or "broken" you are...I need you. I just want to see you one more time...I LOVE YOUI LOVE YOU XAGwhat are you doing Hun?

For the first time

For the first time, I look at you in your eyes and I don’t like what I see... a charity case... it funny you knew I was going to see it this way. It’s true. I refuse to be like any of the stray souls you hang on... I will never be beautiful enough for you... we started wrong, it will end wrong... 

Intended adaptive capacity

I came from schools... where being smart comes from being... good at numbers... good at having a decent handwriting, good at solving equations... my music teacher systematically shut me down from it... my English teachers were always sending me to remedial...my art teacher strongly advised me against art... I would stay for recovery week... for chemistry physics and P.E. I would only shine in English class... and that was when my English teacher didn’t made a fool out of myself when I slipped up... he would actually tell the class what my mistake had been... he loved to torture me... when I told my Spanish teacher I was studying social communications... he was very quiet... I saw in his eyes he didn’t believe I was that good...

I was never raised as a smart kid. My sisters were and are the brilliant ones... the talented ones... they were oh so perfect... they had friends, thy cared for their looks, they had established relationships, the traveled to other countries to meet those they loved... they got to rebel with clothes and music.... I think I was left to be the sane one.... the uninteresting one... one who would have to do makeup work of school... I was left to listen non-strident music... I was left to inherit my cousin’s clothes... I was left to be the son that was not so mad in love that he would just go halfway around the world for it...

I know how to let someone win... I just need to break...

The Prince's Strategy

When he read me his blog... I cried... he saw me cry. I don’t think I cried that much in front of anyone... I cry a lot by myself... I like that about going to the movies... no one notices you are crying. That’s what I like about rain... no one notice I’m crying... I like that about the shower... no one notices you are crying

I told the prince... since I met him, I cry every time I take a shower... I think I failed at explaining why...

It’s because I can’t be better for him... I see myself, and think... "Be the person he wants you to be"... and I can’t...

I spoke to Cloud 9... through face book... in some way she is much more relevant than any other of my crushes... because she is the reason I love girls... she is the first... she was my first crush... I was always so scared of her... just such a kid... I talked to her, told her what I felt... shared my life...I said. "It sucks. Yours?"... She hasn’t replied... maybe she just has perfect life...

I had my first clothed shower with someone. I basically pushed him to it... I think he liked it... I still have to get him wet properly... but all in its due time... I took a shower with a guy!!! A hot guy!!! Oh my god... it was so fun!!! I need to write about it, because I don’t want to forget about it... he wore his shirt and his boxers... awesome boxers... his white shirt was see through... he is so beautifully skinny... it was so freaking hot!!! I like being turned on by him... I loved it. I know it sounds such Virgo of me... but god that was so intimate... I felt like gosh... so close. I like simple things... I like staring at him hugging him... 

A Satanic Age Origins

My love is not stupid... no... I’m not stupidly in love... if I was maybe I would be foolish enough to think I could overcome all of my problems and just swim my way to the shore see the stars just because I’m in love... and god I am in love,... in two moths.. So fast... so fast I feel in love...

I’m counting the seconds till the prince will say I have to die... because he is not stupid in love either... he will sooner rather than later realize that my death is the path... those sweet words will be farewell to this world. Of course... I will not tell him this.

(1 day late)

For some reason I feel I have more skills drawing than writing; I think I'm more eloquent that way. When I have something to say or express I think I'm not very good with words. But I'm going to try this time because I think I need to. Not only now I have things to say, but I want to say them, and now I may have someone to listen. 

I'm in a war. A war I have to win.

If I win he lives and I'm happy

If HE wins...he dies...

Things are not being easy; my rival has been prepared to win long time before he was my rival. He has his entire weaponry ready, his army, and is determined to win. I think I may have damaged his defenses a little bit, but I still feel I'm not winning.

Xag...he says he knows how his story is going to end...he dies, he says. But I have a problem with that, in my story, he doesn't. He wants to forget who he is, to start all over again...he is not happy with himself...

Every time he talks there's a deep, profound feeling of sadness, frustration, and desperation. His voice is like a little cry that brakes inside his throat and turns into words. It’s just tears my soul carving into his insides and discover all that pain he's been carrying and not being able to do something to cure it.

I just want to tell him that everything is going to be okay, that everything will be fine...and I have, but it just doesn't seem enough for him. He's decided. He's been so used to feel pain for so long that seeing another way seems impossible for him. I think he's afraid of not feeling it, afraid to lose his pain...I don’t know...He has made his mind.

It makes me so sad...because I want him...I need him. He doesn't realize how much, but I do, I DO need him. He keeps thinking I'm some kind of superman, a "Prince", and that keeps him away from me...I think he knows that I'm not any of those things...that I'm just a kid...a 6 year old that shit his pants in first grade, a 9 year old rejected for being ugly, a shy 11 year old being teased at for being girly, a fragile 12 year old that cries in front of everyone for having revealed that he likes boys, a 14 year old that's expelled from a school of weirdoes for being weirder than the rest of them, a frustrated 16 year old want to be artist, a 19 year who's frustrated for not being young enough...

We're not that different...actually, I think we have very similar experiences. I DON’T KNOW, maybe he has made up his mind already, maybe he's meant to leave...he just doesn't want to admit it so he won't hurt me...I just don't want that to happen. He's so cute, lovable, smart, funny, creative...God, please no...Don’t take him away....what do you need Xag? What can I do to make you happy? Just surrender and let me win...

This journal... is an addiction.

This journal... is an addiction.

And it’s hurting me.... I’m an emotional nympho... I’m a shameless punk...

I stop myself from being with the people that make me happy so I have time to write... I procrastinate; I even disclose private secret personal information from those around me... I hurt people.

This journal has to end.

I have a problem, that I can only confide in a machine... and then share everything with the world.

This is how it ends... in pain... in deceit... in utter disappointment... no pretty words... no dramatic metaphors... this is how it goes...

You can't do that on tv

"Three men in a television studio sit in front of a camera receive a loaded gun and begin to be confronted by the nonsensical, futility and absurdity of their lives, in the end the one who does not shoot himself is wins a fridge."- Chuck Barris

We are all supposed to be loved equally, treated equally, all as your beloved children... all, except the freaks... all except... me.

I lack of true friendship or company... not having anyone to... trust... rely one... to open up to... not having anyone to have fun with... to watch a movie, to yell when things go wrong, to cry on, to walk with, to share an inside joke with... that is not simply chose... it’s just the result of various and complex... situations

I don’t have friends... I can’t trust anyone... I think I did... at least with people online, but there’s always some kind of parallel communication with this blog... I really only truly open up here

The sad and utter realization of complete loneliness... the knowledge that I will never find really anyone... That will share my believes, dreamas, or hopes.., challenge them, accept them, and be part of them...

Who would want a fat ass, ugly, depressive, bisexual, polyamorist, liar...?

God... I don’t even know why I call myself those things... I say I’m bisexual... When I’m still a virgin... I say I’m a polyamorist when I’ve never found a single meaningful relationship...

No one chooses to be bored... things get boring... boredom falls upon... clouds the mind... I experience boredom on a daily basis... its stresses the hell out of me... that’s why I do websites for free... why I keep sickening relationships with people on line, why I spent 4 hour designing my space profile... why I’m updating this journal twice a day...

If I should define my talent... I would have to say... its product of utter boredom... and the pain it brings.

And finally hopelessness:

Complete or partial...

It might seem like a state of freedom, not being slave to our desires...

you... never hope for hopelessness... because you are keeping hope alive in that hope... you end up hopeless... by systematically lying to yourself, blindly believing that everything will get better, that you are going to evolve, that the person you love will come save you.... you make leap of faith in god magic, in beauty.... you hold on to this thoughts... and then... Bam!!... and you see that all you’ve been dreaming for, suffering for, yearning for... is not there... and never will be... and the pain so strong, the only sane way to move on, is to break down... give up... and die inside.

If I don’t need reasons to be happy... then why do I have reasons to be sad?

Why do we fall?

Why do we fall?   I think we fell together... in the woods, at night, completely lost and bare feet... we were walking and we stumbled into each other, tired from walking, from pain... and we fell.... we fell down. And I think we didn’t let each other get up and move on... we just sat there in the muddy road and stared at each other, examined each other... we saw likenesses and differences. 

Sometimes we saw something we liked, sometimes we didn’t...   I just think we were just so excited to have found someone as lost in the woods as we were, we couldn’t help but to talk... hope.... however it became clear, what I suspected from the beginning... after all we are going different ways... you are going forward, I’m going backwards... you are so hopeful about yourself... you have to stand up... and carry on... I would have loved to give you hand and help you get up... but I can’t... I just can’t... can you blame me for trying to urge you to move on without me when I know you’ll find the way?  

I for myself will probably stay sitting on the floor a little longer, I don’t really feel like standing up at all, and wave you good bye as you disappear inside in the fog and the trees...   Finally... relax, take good breath and sleep...

(2 day late)

Crushes are to feel crushed... I can handle crushes; my entire life, has been a series of crushes, not only with people, but with dreams, with stories... and most of all on me...

It is my latest discovery: I had a crush on myself. I think maybe I still do... I had a crush on who I wanted to be, where I wanted to be, how I wanted to be... and I had been longing for that person to come along.. so I could be happy...

But its never going to, because its a crush on someone that well... can’t be... and for number of reasons. One he isn’t as smart as he had to be, he isn’t living where he was supposed to.. And well he will never look as I hoped he would...

I’m clinging again to the idea that all this... my life.. is just a  mere case of clinical depression.... a case that just has gone by unnoticed... I need to make it noticeable... but how?.. it’s a rhetorical question.... suicide...

Josh wrote this to me:

I want you to know that...

Even though it was possible for you to never talk to me again...because you'd be gone...my life...continued normally.

The world didn't end. I was ok...and when I was with my dad...I forgot all about you...

You know, I missed talking to you.

But at the same time, I don't even care...

Sorry if this sounds harsh but like...

Part of me really does not enjoy talking to you at all...

It's annoying, depressing, and ends up with an argument.

So yes, here comes the crushing part of the crush... with the horrible fact that it will never go anywhere... and that it was never meant to be...

I think all I ever wanted to be... I had to be by the time I was 21...

I said I needed someone that would get me and push me... I need pushing, everything that’s worth been doing in my life I’ve been pushed to do it... so when it comes to studying overseas... well I need someone to push me do it, basically force me to... and force me because I will fight it back, I would fight that person back, even if it’s doing something I really want to do... it’s insane, like if I had no willpower whatsoever... but just otherwise I’m too scared... I’m too terrified... I can’t move on my own otherwise...

(1 day late)

Yesterday, I was going to definitely end things with Joshua, he knew it and then out of nowhere… I just told him I loved him. I’m insane, completely acting at random, not being coherent with my mind… perhaps that’s love, and not being coherent… so I just said it... I don’t think I had ever said this to a guy… anyway, after I said it… I was still going to get done with him... I said good bye… and I was going to block him… and I just started at his nickname on msn… my mouse over it… it must have been like 15 minutes… and I couldn’t make up my mind.. And then he talked to me… and he KNEW… he knew I was going to delete him… I don’t know if I’m that obvious or he just reads me to well… but he knew… and then I couldn’t block him at all.

 The refusal to accept love, the refusal to respond to it, that precisely is the meaning of Hell. Hell is not a place where God puts us; it’s a place where we put ourselves. The doors of Hell, insofar as they have locks, have locks on the inside. - Kallistos 

(4 days late)

The last few entries… are the worst side of me…

The last few entries… are the worst side of me… I hate me… I want to sit still forever and ever, and ever… I don’t want to write ever again… I don’t want to speak ever again… I don’t want to get dressed, or straighten my hair… or sit on a chair… why are chairs so uncomfortable? Why it is while I write all this things… everything in stupid journal… the world keeps revolving around me… I’m waiting for it, to stop and change… that why I did everything… I just genuinely thought, that if I wrote my life would change… it won’t… its stupid, like expecting ritual chants to cure diseases... or car horns to make traffic lights change faster… My pathetic excuse for existence it’s coming to an end… at least to you… I’m not genuinely mad… I’m just tired… just too tired to carry on… not tired like I’m tired eventually… I’m just giving up… for real… tonight, I’m going to give up, on myself. I know this is probably not in the secret, but it’s all I can do… I come from a family of quitters… from a country of losers, from an education of conformists… I’m going to do all I can really do… quit… take the notebook I use for my book out of my notebook and leave it home. Pack up my justice league toys… give away my comics to recycle… and stop using English… stop fighting to get fit in the system, stop trying get good grades with no effort… I will stop hurting people, which I try so hard to do, to get recognized by them… I will stop smiling… I will stop reading… needless to say… I will stop this, drawing, and or doing vids … all together … I don’t want to yell ever again… I don’t even want to ever listen to music ever again… I just quit… I quit, not defeated, just too tired, to sad, to dead inside to carry on… let’s just see… if this is something I will succeed at…

Because I ......Want you Because I...... need you Where are you? I hate myself without

Because I ......Want you

Because I...... need you

Where are you?

I hate myself without you; I hate myself for waiting for you... especially now that I’m beyond any saving.

Do you enjoy watching me crawl while I wait my turn? How many are there before me? When will you get done with me?

...

I am broken

I am broken... sounds cliché, but I can’t fix myself, every time I try I just keep ruing it more and hurting myself... I can’t even seem to get rid of myself either... because there is one stupid tingle of hope that you will show up. I know you won’t.

I focus on my pain intentionally and intensely, because the truth is... if I think of anything else I just notice your absence... you are not here. How can I get over this if you are not there stretching your arm and take me out of the mud hole. How can I move on, without you to hold my hand along the way?

"I", "I", "I", almost all my sentences start with "I"... because you are not here for them to start with "YOU"...

How can you do this to me? How can you leave me here... to get wasted... to get ruined... to rot…

(2 day late)

All it takes is one bad date...

All it takes is one bad date... 

Unless you are me, then you need two.

Tonight I’m going to cry, not just yet, because I’m filled with anger first. And not the type of anger that makes you wants to yell and course everyone you know. I’m filled with type of anger that requires to be denounced, that feels me with energy to write this words. Today I saw the things I hate most about myself and about others. Insecurity, lack of character, lies, disrespect, lack of communication, ugliness, both physically and personality wise... I saw everything that wrong with me and my world.

I don’t want to see you again, ever, you hurt me, and you will die alone, I got myself vulnerable to you, and you, and you made me feel, embarrassed about who I was, about what I believe... and what’s worse, I let you do it to me twice.

You are faggot, and mean this in the very and most insulting way, and for that I hate you, because you made me feel bad about being who I am, you represent everything that wrong in the ameinian community... you are, a cliché! The worst kind, you make me kitsch, void, useless... I’m an idiot, and you proved me right. 

You shouted to a 10 year old girl! What kind of person does that? You had me 15 minutes dragging after you in search of cab... I hate myself, for being with you, I hate myself for even doubting if it was my fault you are so week... I’m angry, so angry, so disappointed, so filled with contempt... I hate you, not more than I hate myself...but I do... I’m so filled with... hate... I couldn’t help but laugh all the time at our situation, and I know it bothered you I didn’t say what I was laughing about... I was laughing about us, our pathetic situation, you not knowing the jerk you are, and me putting up with it, when I know I deserve better even if I die a virgin... which I am still... and I’m so proud about it, because losing it to you would have been too degrading, I would have had to killed you and shoot myself then.

(17 days late)

There’s no reason to live, but there’s no reason to die, either.

“There’s no reason to live, but there’s no reason to die, either. The only way we can still show our contempt for life is to accept it. Life is not worth the bother of leaving it. Out of charity, one might spare a few individuals the trouble of living, but what about oneself? Despair, indifference, betrayal, fidelity, solitude, the family, freedom, weight, money, poverty, love, absence of love, syphilis, health, sleep, insomnia, desire, impotence, platitudes, art, honesty, dishonor, mediocrity, intelligence – nothing there to make a fuss about. We know only too well what those things are made of, no point in watching for them.”

“God is growing bitter, He envies man his mortality.”

— Jacques Rigaut

I take a step back ... I stagger.

 2:45 AM

There is no pain at this moment

only the tormented silence of this vast space,

of this misunderstood loneliness.

There will be no more sunrises in our lives ...

Just like the chimeras that we desire,

and like the afflictions we hate

were born from what's dead of our souls.

Dead are our hearts,

incinerated by the flames they once loved!

The earth will kiss our bodies

welcoming our last breaths ...

Only in this moment that we hold on

can we recognize our past.

A feeling floats in the morning haze ...

For an instant its shape is recognizable ...

And between the coldness of our bodies without passion,

fades and dies.

For the agony of not being animals

our hand can take the initiative

and trace a strip of suns

where fear is greater than our hopelessness.

A gag on the soul

a knot in the throat and ...

Only the clouds that contemplate us

can know the dark of our history.

The breeze carries our laments

more in the depths of our emptiness

something urges us not to give up yet.

Today the black storm clouds

will not be a promise of life,

and lost childhoods will not be restored.

On the precipice of our abandonment

nor the thick forest of yesteryear

nor the cold current of the years

may prevent our last blind step ...

Our body shudders against something infinite,

something that does not listen to explanations.

I can see the waves hitting the rocks!

I take a step back ... I stagger.

The pounding of the waves is so vigorous ...

A strange calm invades me ...

Where fear and anguish abounded

now the white foam highlights everything;

where hatred and insecurity lived,

now the breeze softens everything ...

Only the rays of the Sun, which give us life

can know the beauty of our death.

For Miguel Ángel Villegas,

with love, from his father.