Mata yoru ga akereba owakare. Yure wa toukimaboeroshi ni anata o oikaketeita hikari no nakade idaka rerutabi atatakai kaze o tayori.

There are, more often than you would think, days like this when everything seems normal but deep down it is strangely wrong; as if darkness was resurfacing slowly and with a vengeance. Emotions are so difficult to control as is the menace of their presence contaminates the will of neurons. I think again and again what is the best choice to make but from the labyrinth of my love for you seems to be no scape. I take refuge in the rain, walking slowly down the lane feeling drops of acid water drown my hair.
Feelings, stubbornly, burn my chest and deny the chance to emancipate. Why should I wonder if you will really ever come as if reality is something I can't figure on my own. I need to decipher images, incomprehensible flashes of light, that inhabit my dreams and appear as real as my own flesh.
I am stealing time from a decision I should have taken long ago and the more I let it go on the more difficult it appears to live with the options.

I am so anxious. Anxious in that tremendous way in which guts churn and legs hold tightly each other. Anxious in the way that makes you rub your fingers insesantly and eat as many chocolates as you can find.
Iam tired, also, of looking at this screen senselessly timelessly as if I am waiting for something to jump out of it. Words leave me and I do not understand why. My throat was so tight just a minute ago and now it seems I am missing air to be able to speak.
How to transform fear into something you can laugh of? How to make your worst nightmares seem as something not too serious? This is my circus! Gimme a whip!
Sneeze. I am about to. I want to stop it. It still happens.

Is this way too complicated or what?

Once, not so long ago although it does seem pretty far away, I watched Dawson's Creek. I was twelve during the first season so you do the math. I have been watching it again this last week. I am on the fifth chapter and I've got to say... man so much drama and man, I totally long for series like this one! I wonder if it is that I am denying myself the horrible growing up for real and I still preserve some of the adolescent aura.
I got to remember, to my damnation, my years in high school and geez louise! I definitely get why I enjoy it so much: "we are born, we live and we make a lot of mistakes in between before dying".


I also remembered about the man I most love during my school years and how that friendship marked my life. At the same time I started to have a flashback on how I've gotten a premiere look on how weird life is when you are a teenager. I have always wondered if all my relationships are disfunctional or if life if, plainly, disfunctional. In the middle of these twisters from my life I ended up using one of the phrases, very wise most of them btw, I heard there: "Love is a decition", and even when I have made many, many mistakes during my still short life I share that notion.
Last night I was a jerk with my boyfriend and today when we finally got to talk, after last night I sent him like three messages just trying to make myself look less like an idiot, he said:
"In five seconds you can make me so happy  which is only fair if we think how in less than a minute we can really hurt each other".
He is right and you know what? I do not want to hurt him or to get hurt but I know that it will happen, I just hope it is for something a little more worth it. There have been few men in my life, all of them significant to a certain degree even the ones who have been there just for a few moments of fun but none who can compare to this guy. We have had a strange on and off history and now that it is on again I certainly wish for it to stay that way but I wont let my expectations get too high... you know with all this cynical attitude I carry around.

Anyway if you ever get to watch Dawson's Creek...

About Dad.

Lately, I've been feeling that my time with my father is running out. He seems ever so aprehensive to see me standing on my own two feet and so worried that he is somehow going to miss that, that it has made me to reflect over death.
My family is so much of a circus. We do not quite belong together and probably I am the one that fits less due to the age gap. To lose someone you love is a blow difficult to afront and given that my ralationship with my brothers is not the best I am almost ready to be blamed for anything at this point but today I witness how someone had to face the fact that he would never have another chance to mourn over the most beloved person he had and I've got to think if maybe I have not misjudge some of my dad's gestures.
Dad would never tell me he is proud of me, I have long ago quit hoping for it. I doubt there is nothing in my life he can be proud of. Perhaps he is only pointingut how many other things there is for me to reach.
I have always thought he had this preference for my brothers because they were males but, maybe, somewhere along the way he expected me to toughen up and I did.
I have commited many mistakes in my life, good mistakes. The kind of mistakes that help you understand things about yourself that you had lost or simply had never realized were there. He has judged me by them strongly and has also disapproved of many of my life decitions; but at the end of the day he would still stop in his tracks and wait for me to stand up, wait for me to keep moving forward.
On certain occasions, he does this sorta dorky jokes or comments. I believe tonight that he does when he realizes that I am getting uncomfortable and it is simply trying to make me think about something else because if there is someone awkward around family gatherings of any kind that is me.

I doubt he understands fully what is going on in my head but the truth is I do not know him all that well either. I just know he loves the campside, he feels withering whe he has not the entertainment of the soil he inherited and the animals he has made an effort to make appear 3 out of 12 or 14 of 5, only God knows how mathematic works when his land is involved but he loves it there. I know he enjoys that in that town he lives, half the population knows who he is and that he likes the expresso afternoons at the park. I know he likes his old bike not only because he feels no one will mess with it because it is old but because in some degree he reflects over that vehicle so much history that bike has. He always tries not to interfere too much with anyone's life and his children are no exception, he would only tell us I can do no more than give you the tools. I wonder why he forgot about that when he left, I wonder if that woman he was with was that good to make him forget about us, about me. When he walk away from home was when I understood daddy was no superman and I got so mad; but truth be told if he had super powers then all he achieved, all he push us to reach wouldn't have been so meaningful.
He would never turn his back on us because he knows one way or the other we are string enough and he would look down on us with such severity not because he did not love us -make no mistake I am as certain as I am of my name that he loves us so much that we just can't understand it- but because he knew we we are able to stand by ourselves because he teached us to.
Although my feelings for daddy are mixed, I know too that I love him. He is Dad after all ;).

I have to keep writing. Sometimes I just feel like I must to. I am not sure what to write about but there is this strange thought that maybe, just maybe if I write enough I will discover something... some clue about what the heck is going on inside my head.

Today, I bought a small jewlery set from an anime series I loved. Later on I decided the ring was just perfect for my boyfriend. Silly to remember that from my day but lately I have been really confused about where our relationship is going. There is nothing wrong really but it is not right. It works in such strange manner, long distance... phone calls... internet conference... mailed gifts but then again our skins are s far away, our feelings may be hiding behind cams and pretty words.
It is so peculiar how you can miss someone voice when you can hear it almost everyday. Nonetheless there is a fiber within you that just feels the difference, it is so terribly inconvenient... the texture misses something there is not the same spark. Even though I can se him it will never be the same as to be actually looking right at him, havng a staring contest with those blue eyes, watching him play his guitar... It feels like such loss, as if we are dying for each other in a very tortuos and delibarate manner.
Once, someone frp, his family asked me if here -at this side of the planet- I could find eyes such as his. I said sure you can and I meant sure you can find blue eyes in my country. The person in question was obviously expecting me to answer something cheesy and romantic as the unique quality of his eyes but you know, the eyes are not interesting per se; even when they may have a beautiful shape or they may posses a very spectacular color and luminosity. The eyes reflect so much more, a lot from the gestuality of our faces is framed in the eyes... the way the muscles there move when you try to convey an emotion, the way their color gets combisted when there is a strong passion behind them, the gesture a simple look may form is amazing. His eyes of course are no exception. Beautiful light blue eyes, a little lighter than a blue sky during summer. Those same eyes that incarnate fire when he plays his guitar get covered by a weird and alienating gloss when he needs his feelings to be hidden, his posture to remain in check. The arrongance and purpose they used to getting  filled with when he grabbed my hand and we walked down the streets and the tenderness of his looks when I said: "Honey... can you buy me chocolates? I really want those chocolates you brought home the other day, do you remember?".

"Why should a man's mind have been thrown into such close, sad, sensational, inexplicable relations with such a precarious object as his body?"

~Thomas Hardy

"How idiotic civilization is! Why be given a body if you have to keep it shut up in a case like a rare, rare fiddle?"

~Katherine Mansfield

It is sunday night... and well today I feel a little distressed. Last weekend I had the excitement of reading two electronic books... I keep myself on the urban fantasy romance and all that to distract myself from university's life but I am getting to that part of the semester where I become terrified by the very little we have left. It is actually a relief but since I cannot actually make myself work on academic subjects during weekends my spam for what I need to work on get shorter and shorter. I went back to training during saturdays which even if it eats half my day it really brings me some peace of mind; which, before you guess, I totally appreciate since I get really tense and on the "all you can eat" program.
Speaking of programs there is this tv series I now watch on my computer: "criminal minds". Since I finish my Dharma and Greg dvd's this has been the replacement. Thomas Gibson also stars on this series, the neat personaly characters really go with this guy. From corporate lawyer to FBI agent... anyway, I like the series. I like the fact that you can try to understand how this horrible things happen so you can help victims. I do not enjoy so much that there is the need to rationalize all the cruelty of criminals, because by doing so most people creates a distance between what is happening in the screen adn what they live with and what many people has a hard time to accept is that all those horrible things are also out there somewhere and we really do nothing about it. We do not even care about our neighbours anymore. There is no time. There is always job to do or better things to occupy ourselves. We do not mind that thousands of people get hurt everyday... we are so accustomed to violence which terrifies me because it makes me feel that the more accustomed to these things we get the more violent crimes will get. The more cruelty and torture and suffering we see the more it is neeed to hit a cord.
We should be terrified that as humans we are able to inflict so much pain on other without actually giving a damn. I always think about what some of teh agents in that series do that is what if we are all capable of commiting such horrible acts adn we are not really sure how we keep away that sort of behaviour? What will make someone snap in such way that he stops caring for others but this violence that is killing us all somehow, without we even realize?

I do not believe in guns or in violence but that does not stop me form watching the series that potrays both in a, sometimes, very gruesome way. I was reading the other time a kind of historical-phylosophical book that elaborated on the Roman Empire, highlighting that one of the purposes of the large investment emperors did on keeping gladiators and all those games in the Colosseum was to keep their subjects in contact with such amount of violence and directed to certain kinds of behaviours that people would largely get accustomed to that into their everyday life and also be ok we the extensive violence the Empire was not only exposed to but, and mostly, inflicted to others. Violent entertainment is a tool, sometimes even a very powerful political tool and we should not allowed ourselves to stop thinking about that.