Facile à vivre

 

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They say I am easy going,

easy to go…in..

easy to go,

like easy to leave.

I always wondered why they never stayed.

#how easy

 

 

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Shifty.

 

giphy (5)

Make of this what you will.

I am grown and tired.

The chase, the guess ,inane games.

I will reiterate, please listen.

I’m too grown for this , lost my auction at assumptions gates, the will to stand shifty tides, sort through mixed signals and read between ill, faintly crafted lines. The world is moving and I must scurry along with it.

I have no room for guesses or tic tac toes on where you stand.

are you here or there?’,

this is no lovers brawl, no tug of war either. I have given enough self, I must preserve what is left for me. Regrettably, I have left too much space for your frivolities, and wished for too long that you abandon juvenile manners. Time has taught me to careless for drifty ways.

I will not read minds, poetry awaits.

I will not chase, I have given up feline ways.

I will not plead for intentionality or open honesty.

I will not bleed for trust, still, I’ll stay worthy of it.

I will not push for transparency or leap out of comfort zones to comprehend the unsteadiness of your tides.

I will not intently open my souls doors for you, still I shall not close them. I refuse to present you with the chance to betray my efforts. Again.

I will not wait to catch hints and pick up crumbs of real intent. I simply do not have the time. Frankly, I care not for wavering allies.

Come if you will, stay if wish, go if you please.

whatever you please, be intentional.

vilag ii.

I have told a lie,

a tale so white it blurred truth.

bring me darkness, I crave it.

leave me be,

let it wrap me in familiar bands,

I have made allies with its silence, learnt to work its curves.

let me walk the streets of murk, just for a moment,

I need to see clearer.

how can dawn come if dusk hovers not?

leave me in gloomy pools,

I have swarm long enough to learn to float.

 

 

vilag.

I’m attracted to light.

in skin,cities and teas too.

I have swam in too much darkness to let my self drown there.

Sinners thoughts.

thoughts

I wonder,

does he grow weary of dirty hosannas and wilful sins?

does he choke on smoke from burnt offerings?

does he forgive himself for all the forgiveness he gives?

does he grow tired from looking down?

 

I wonder,

maybe he wishes for friends not worshippers?

with knowledge so vast, does he walk on crazy streets?

does he grow bored of his magic?

does his miracles excite his soul?

 

 

It must be lonely to be God.

Balcony.

Sitting frog legged,

mind pregnant, sweet nothings. 

look, how the sky changes hue.

feel the wind loose its warmth.

my skin quivers from colds kisses.

A plane lands, too many leave.

 

how familiar,

the changes, the cold, the take offs…

how you…

 

 

 

 

Storm.

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I have learnt sometimes,

silence is the easiest way to build your chaos,

smile, make a weak attempt at a dead joke.

if you try hard enough, your troubles might translate into laughter.

forget it, let it go, make an excuse, then another.

Tell yourself all you need to drop ice in your volcano.

Do not erupt, make peace with your pieces, chew your words.

Float like paper in the wind when they push you,

gather your storm.

 

now, rain!

bring brimstones and ice,

birth magma and burn bridges,

spew your undigested words, quit choking yourself.

serve them their cowardice on a platter.

 

finally, ask for the masters forgiveness,

lick your wounds and remember,

they do not think like you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Station: query

answer

 

For as long as I can remember, I have also been the child with the questions. Granted, I frequently lacked the courage to ask them all or lacked the right words to get the question across properly, still, I had them. These questions plagued my mind, I am embarrassed by the sheer idiocracy of  some, like  what’s pigment in white makes is different from cream? or pink from red? how was the chemical formula of water discovered? what was the scientist searching for? what about water piqued his/her curiosity? how did one know oxygen was oxygen? its gas really so how then was it discovered? some of these questions stupid as they are run deeper than others, like who the hell thought about other planets, meshed up theories of the earth being round and suspended by gravity while holding hands with other planets. How did one think all these up? who is/was their plug? can I have his number? cos Ill need to be on what they were on the get these answers.

There are things I do not understand, I have been told that knowledge is power, ignorance is a fools meal. still, all the knowledge gathered on love we turn puppets to its whippings. (I boldly claim my ignorance). why is falling in love synonymous with loss of common sense? synonymous with hurt, synonymous with forms of paint that hurt to think up. On this hierarchy, I comprehend  family levels only.( one cant understand what they don’t know). maybe I’m cynical, noble prized skeptic even. I have heard enough stories to aid my brain in building  bricks around my thorax. They say love makes the world go round still, here we are all these loving just to be stable. Not enough love to stop death, not enough to keep diseases at bay, never enough to lock a lovers groins and certainly, not enough to seduce a bank account into obesity so, enlighten me,what then is this word that commands such human foolery? why is love not enough? why is something so simple always so complex? will I ever know? will I ever let myself know? lord, will I act a fool too?…. fear.

A thousand ways to blasphem, I do not what my sentence will be at this point. The questions I think of but cannot ask. lest I stray too far from the light and delve into parts of atheism I cant afford. still, why is Christianity so hard?  So, you didn’t choose to be born but you gotta fight to live, have to fight to die right so you can live eternally?. Dare I ask more? I know God knows everything, so he does know the end from the beginning right? why then were humans created? we are to unholy, too fickle, too unworthy for this grace so graciously granted to us. our spirit is willingly but flesh stay weak some days, the spirit willeth not either. will you teach us better lord? answer our hearts drill too? forgive this ignorance please? maybe? yes?

 

 

3:45am : I have questioned natured but never lasted long enough for its answer, I know not to question drowsy eyes and a spent brain….

#random

meh….

Everything but nothing.

Grey is the blandest colour. It doesn’t scream but isn’t drowsy either. it swings on a fence just enough to not be completely ignored. how meh, It is the blandest feeling too. Nothing  is wrong but nothings right either.

Some days, dawn comes with its party, other days it drags melancholy with it. You feel peace but you don’t quite taste happiness still, far from sadness.

My tongue doesn’t know me sometimes, other times it amazes me. how can one have everything but nothing? be so much but so little? how does one be sunlight and still carry this much gloom. Its not sadness, just gloom.

Many, many friends but still no one. Be so loved but easily discarded. usefully useless, accommodated but not accepted. alone but surrounded.

 

what is it when you feel everything but nothing?

not enough sadness to be pitied not enough happy to be noticed

oh so tastefully bland. grey.

 

I am nothing.

.a descansar, buenas noches mañana más fiestas www.fiestastempranito.com

 

I know,

Something came up,

like at Christmas and first grade.

oh, like on my birthdays too?

that’s fine.

I hope some day I’m something.

maybe, then I’ll come up.

 

deadbeat.