the BouqueT

I was in a booth trying some pants, my sister waiting outside on the wooden bench, her arms full of the clothes that weren't fitting, then i asked calmy through the short curtain, "do we have time?", concerned that she could be bored and hungry, "It's eleven fifteen, she says, so it's ok", thinking aloud i say "oh we have time then", and immediately after i hear a man's voice, replying with a slight hiccup in his eagerness, playful as he was ending a joke i started, "oh it's ok we have time", and my sister starts to laugh, intrigued i pass my head out of the booth, "what's happening", and i see next to my hilarious sister, two kids, a teenage girl, a man and a woman, a whole family, watching me, all smiling, wide and sincere, "it seems we have the same preoccupation" the man warmly nods toward me, i felt empowered and i thought "the world can't harm me!"

Easy as that , i received a bouquet of smiles.

Cooling up

It's summer in the evening, the heat was unbearable during that day, the dresses and shirts stick to the skin with sweat, but everyone is running home, the thunder is growling out of the pack of thick dark clouds, night is on the fall, the street lights expand in a blink, in that heavy and metallic atmosphere, the swarming filthy heart of a city, sweat and dust on the verge to be cleansed, i'm waiting for it, tired limbs, sitting on a padded stool, elbows on the counter fronting the huge glass, focused on the outside, the rush to come, the extasy to burst, for now resting, hypnotized, while slowly tasting my favorite ice cream in that small typical neigborhood diner, the pink neon above changes the sight of the street progressively as each letter gets on, one by one, then none, and again, my eyes up, those weighty eyelids still ready to open, i'm relaxed, tingles all over my body in that wait, the drops of sweat tracing wakes on my bare arms, the delicate sugary flavor cooling my throat, the flashing tacky colors around making me dizzy, transporting me, i'm fine, i'm relaxed, i'm electrified, and suddenly, the rain breaks.



I'm in love, there's no other explanation.

What is left to rise (live, Live, feel... Feel... more, endlessly)

I'd like to visit those places
See those colorful sights
who pack and call my memories...
my feelings on the stories
of people who haunted it
Places i could get attached
because i would come with knowledge,
recognition, understanding
of what happened in the old time
the joys and the sorrows,
the struggles and the dreams
of those names who lived by
the houses and the streets
those places with a past
polished or damaged,
blunt or vivid
still oozing the emotions from the land,
that i could shiver lost on my own
burst for a while, entitled to rise
but with all there is to see, to feel
on the run, i won't stay, i'll just pass
to invigorate on the spirit,
the strenght of each place
and oddily, that's why it would feel
So good.


(it can be related to human beings but i don't apply it litteraly to human beings in real life, or it could be called loose manners, how that text can be misunderstood, or maybe that's what we all do our own way with places and people)

I need to be wanted too, that's so obvious, that's why i disclose so much, i give what i would like to be given.
I'd like people who will prove me i'm important to them.

And she thinks there's poison between us and wants to get away.

I still could never forget her.

But i'm alive.


I know you fear the happiness of people depends on you, that's a fear you built yourself in your brain, and then that your feelings push you to act as you in fact don't want to, and that you end up stuck in an unhappy situation, what you give is pity, that's irrational and with that process you create your own prison, because in reality you are always free of your choices. I know conditioned feelings like that are hard to fight though, but no one asks you to do as you don't want and surely not me because i'm not pitiful, i'm not a victim.

I'm just a loving, a wanting, a giving, a taking person, i'm spiritually, intellectually, emotionally wealthy. And above all respectful.

what about love?; primal needs are overpowering for others; and i'm all in control, i want to let go and accept that for others and for me

I asked myself, could i be so casual with sex that i would want to fuck with strangers, like she said she wants, i guess it's for pleasure alone and only, and the freedom to say "bye" right after and never see again the person, it's independence in sexual pleasure, i try to put me in that state of mind, in those situations, but i have no desire, i have no desire for people i don't feel safe with, that means i need to build trust and understanding with someone to feel desire for that person, and i'm very picky, so already it takes the time to grow a friendship, which is long and not so easy, because people who match my intellectual and emotional needs are rare, so to feel desire to have sex i would need to meet hundreds of people and yet having to know them deeply, their personality, their intellect, get trust, and it takes time to know i'm mentally safe and satisfied, maybe for women it's easier they can act like holes, so if they want they even don't have to move in the sexual act, they can technically make love even without desire. I'm thinking maybe i'm not awaken yet, i don't know what it is, what if i would know, will i be like a horny beast searching for a fuck on saturday nights, will that sexual need could push me to be casual, maybe that's what i need to try in order to know, but if i have no desire how could i, is there something wrong with me and those primal needs.

So obvious, and still i write it down, from that dumb final fantasy game.

"The world's full of lies. There's no way of knowing what's right. All we can do is believe in ourselves. It's easy to sit back and let people trick you. I'm done with their lies, from here on out i use my eyes. Think. And act. I might not make all the right choices. But as long as i'm the one who decided what to do, there's nothing to regret."

at a stake

I feel i'm lying
carrying around that corporeal misfit
I don't have the face of a teenager anymore
My visage is carved in longanimity
and that ancient wood shows its cracks
the bark is chiseled
My hair still soft and curly when i fumble it
but i can see my skull through that thin and messy bush
My eyes are tired more and more as scratched glass
fading invisibly from spring to fall
bronze like the rotten leaves of that season
My feet got miles
the induration patches and the crooked toes are relics
so smooth on the top, such contrast
and beside all this, all the weary ends
i've still somewhat the core body of a younger man
my trunk is slick in that elastic skin
all along covered with dry muscles
an impetuous sharpness
i know those temples who never served, never worked
that time hasn't touched
i'm an heartfelt frankenstein
and my mind too shares that destiny
of a lie bearer

(i think of a display, a revelation, a cult to that body, which is mine, which is me, and my acceptable truth)

I am still playful!