Lost and Found

The other day i was talking with my sister, and she told me about her desire to feel again the desperate abandonement humans put in a teenage fusional love, despite that she knows now that it is a biased and devious attachment, based on personal fears of not being able to go on and solve things up by oneself, so based on lack of self love and self confidence.
That's usually what you get when you grow older and wiser, you learn to support yourself alone and the feeling of losing yourself in another has less and less ground to seed up.
I was thinking how it could be too late for me to experience that feeling, i'm too strong already, and i arrived at that age without it fully happened, two times in my life i felt to surrender and succumb unconsciously to another, but it was impossible to live, it stayed an unreality, it never reached concrete closeness and mutual sharing, so i only ever knew the suffering of a distant lack which is the other part of an unconscious love.
Now i don't imagine myself be dependant again, my philosophy is set and coherent to me, i could never be fooled again on the path of a co-dependant love, i don't pity myself as i vouch for my personal truth and sincerity, probably those experiences pushed me to discover more about the strings in our psyche, the vicious conditioning that manipulates our feelings, maybe i forged that philosophy of rationalization and individualism based on those painful experiences, but i can only enjoy now to be aware of my inner functioning, i wipe off all negativity, and my rationalization makes me think that i prefer to be alone but true, serene and open-minded than with someone but in a fake relation, clinging because of an unresolved self loathe.
...or clung at for the same reason in the other.

Night out

You want a taste of what it is to live in a city, you go out when the night settles, you roam the dirty streets on your bike, zigzaging amongst the pretty people, you eat on a terrace of a cheap restaurant surrounded by the noise of ten other crowded cheap restaurants, you pick an irish pub because you heard there's an open mic night tonight, you stick yourself in front of the stage with the plan to stay there till the end but without consuming even one drink, people file up in a joyful atmosphere.
There's the required drummer who smiles all along, the gangly white guy with his unfitting shirt, the shy girl with a golden lace around her dress, she sings her heart out and wrinkles appear on her forehead when she closes her eyes, there's the easy going black-haired twins, two pairs of lungs to make you swing, there's the popular couple which can't watch the audience straight and focus on their song by staring at the beams of the ceiling, there's the way too much drunk guy from which we expect a catastrophe but in the end go out quite well to everyone's surprise, there's the wannabe stars who get on stage with a band name and tuxedos, and there's the boss, an older man, organizing the turns and playing a versatile guitare to accompany many up to be artists, cheers and beers for everyone, it seems easy to be there, so many regulars, all singing for the final signature song, it is joy and claps, loud bursts of laughters and jokes, it's heavily insouciant, you cross many glances and affable faces, "we're all in this together" they seem to say, and you feel you want to congratulate them all, then in the advanced night the show ends and you go out right outside the archaically carved wooden door to breathe some fresh air and lift your chin at the moon, smokers are there too, but no one to talk to, one night's not enough, and that's how it must be, you're thinking one hundred nights won't help either because you're not on that merry boat, the experience was good, enjoyable, and probably you'll be there again some other time, so where is the rupture, the disconnection, you were perfectly fine in there, confident from start to end, but you even prefer the dark corner of yourself, who wants to join? 
Easy and foolish is ok but not for me.

The observing Stance (in too many but simple words)

Noon, the sky is low, the air is fresh and filled with a weak light, i am still drowsy, standing by the window i drink a cup of pepsi, yeah it's not coffee, it's a small amount of pepsi, that unhealthy sugary beverage, in a tiny white cup with a broken handle, (i awkwardly but precisely hit the top of it in the sink, some days ago, it broke neatly in a single sharp note), and i'm thinking how it's classy to hold a cup by keeping one's back straight like a pole, the arm folded in front of me carefully nesting that porcelain objet, mentally it shows an image of someone with maneer, caring and education, maybe that's a part in why, unconsciously, people drink coffee in cafes, "to look classy";
Spring is here, the garden down the third floors is verdant, in a flashy green, people let open their doors and windows, a small fluffy cream-colored dog is lying on the tiling floor in the frame of one of those, he lifts his head and sees me up there, accross the alley, after a moment staring at me with a sad look he slowly puts himself on his paws and scampers toward me, stopping at the gate, at the end of the ground path, also the end of his territory;
The house to the right is empty, they stripped it down, probably even scrapped the wallpaper, i noticed it that week, boorish men came with a rusty truck to dismantle all the furnitures that was inside, making it fire wood, they tore down the sink, the water-heater, and all the other apparatuses, i guess the only thing left in there is the rancid smell of old dust and moisture, i remember when i arrived in my appartement i used to sometimes spot a lonely old woman living there, like me watching by the window, her elbows resting on the edge, (maybe spying at me as i spied at her), her time was probably over recently;
On the left house there's a yard made of gravel, a slick white plastic table is set in the middle, on which the sun rays reflects at me on clear days, and today a frail woman is sitting here, i've seen her before, from afar, and i always pictured her as a forty something going on woman with spanish origins, yesterday i noticed she was limping badly as she hung wet sheets on the clothes-line, stretching all along that yard, she seems tired, a book with a turquoise cover is laid on the table, she looks meditative, but maybe she's just resting in the calmness of this pretty, dreary, and classy morning.

Letter on the love evolution

"I'm going to tell you how i perceive things, we are not our emotions, because it is inconsistent, it is perpetually changing, that's a fact, so that's a proof this is not our core, our being, to each one of us, what i feel is on the instant, something i sense, something i share, a place in which i linger around, a person i talk to, i'm less and less emotionally influcenced by what's outside, i'm more and more serene and unshakeable, because i know i create my own emotions, i decide who and what i love, i decide to be fine when i want it, it is not the mind, it is a sense of being, and accepting that what's or who's around can be too, when i'm not with someone or in a situation i don't want to worry about it, i'm not thinking that i would want to be elsewhere or with someone else, and i know i have that power in me to choose to act, to experience something or to meet someone, i'm not constantly longing for things that are out of my reach, and when i did my best at a moment to reach something or someone (and sometimes my best is weak or a faillure, but i accept at the moment that i can't offer much, and i know that will naturally improve if consciousness grows, i don't feel bad about that), i then accept the response i get, whatever it is, i am myself in any situation, i'm full and not judging (on that way), there's no "taming" phase, i don't adapt to the other because i already accept him/her as he/she is (the same goes for things and situations), it is each time a new and agreeable encounter, a new discovery, a new sharing, and i accept and know myself, so good emotions rise as well in any new positive experience.
One day i'll be strong enough to meet you in my full individuality, but my happiness doesn't depend on that possibility, my happiness and loving temper is there in me, and in the now."

It is time to stop, to try to make others understand what is it that i feel, or believe in, it only brought frustration, and lacking, i still can't live materially by myself down there, my soul welcomes any new person, or experience, but on the inside i let go, no thing, no one's needed as a matter of continuing to be, i am, everything, everyone is, and it is simply welcomed as it is, a part of a whole, that can be appreciated for that beingness.

This is love : "i feel in me that i don't need you, but i choose to spend my life with you"

Nevermind World

no pretention
no pretention
there's only two relations
either you desire
or you connect
one can never go far
you play or you live;
i don't owe anything
i don't need to be or do anything
that's realness
you see something you put a stamp
you smell, you touch something
"Hey buddy, get out of my way, creepo!"
you pick half smoked cigarettes off the streets
bash your health in addiction
addictions
stick your own limb up your ar...
for pleasure
unresponsive irresponsible
and you mock
"oh le joli oiseau"
what the fuck it's nightime bitch
(my bad, my bad, it crawls)
water pearls roll over the goosebumps in my neck
hold your ears before it explodes
cool it down
this time is over
now you go fast
fast
pushed by the wind
don't break
there will be some to hold you and carry you
different
once you know you don't need that you're free
different and free and probably
happy
nevermind
oh yeah nevermind!

"Somewhere deep inside me there's still this energy, this unstable flame, i hide it cause there's so many people which don't share it, which don't understand it, one can't reveal oneself to anyone, and i don't want to do it, i want to choose, tonight as i'm writing i'm thinking that i need to be a little less analytical and more emotional, like i know how to, have a few drinks, a few, and more than ever create some good sound, impetuous and distorted, and jump all over the place till my neck hurts!
More, more, i want to play my guitare, i want to form a rock band, spread that passion and have fun, but not in an inconscious way, no, but with people who know respect, intensity, and comprehension. Screeeeeeech!"

Random soundtrack while writing that only personal thought :

Why am i thinking that this writing will fit as lyrics for the melody on "bullet the blue sky", eh try singing, speaking it. Ta tata tata, TA TA, ah ah