Before I met him...

...I had no regrets.

Before, I was a noisy crazy boy who just wanted to have fun anyhow. You know? I had a traumatic event with a special person. Well, I thought that person was special. I was wrong. After him, I changed my mind. I had to protect myself, I shielded my heart because I didn't want to suffer anymore. And I became in the person who actually I am.

People say that I am too cheerful, that I am always joking about everything, that I am worried about nothing.

Liar! It's only an armor to face the world where I live. Maybe seems that I have no concerns, but in the end, the boy who I show to the people is just that, an armor.

And so, I met Him. I don't know what happened on me, I just know what I felt. Just for a moment, I thought that I wasn't to need that protection anymore, I really believed that I had met someone with I hadn't to pretend. Just...for...a moment.

And...what happended so?

After meeting Him, my armor doesn't work. I try to forget, and I try, and I try. I want to be the boy "before Him", being no regrets when I try to do crazy things with someone other.

But after meeting Him, I have regrets.

Passion.

Passion is essential.

Too many people are simply living, not enough are alive. Forget about the plastics, the superficial. I want classy, I want trashy.Give me anything that breathes with conviction; people who turn love into paintings, people who turn tears into sonets, people who are afraid of life, but never afraid to live.

Thinkers, lovers, leaders. I want these artists.

Do you know that feeling?

Do you know that feeling? When you're just waiting. Waiting to get home, into your room, close the door, fall into bed, and just let everything out that you kept in all day.

That feeling of both relief and desperation.

Nothing is wrong. But nothing is right either.

And you're tired. Tired of everything. Tired of nothing.

And you just want someone to be there and tell you it's okay.

But no one's going to be there. And you know you have to be strong for yourself, because no one can fix you.

But you're tired of waiting. Tired of having to be the one to fix yourself and everyone else. Tired of being strong.

And for once, you just want it to be easy. To be simple. To be helped. To be saved.

But you know won't be.

But you're still hoping. But you're still wishing. And you're still staying strong and fighting.

You are fighting.

Cherish.

If I don't know who I am, it's like anyone knew it.

God ignores you while Satan invites you to enjoy something that if you do becomes a trauma. Do I want it? Isn't it what I've chosen? I realize it's not exactly what I want to.

Fuck it! I know what I want! Taking the first step I could achieve it. So simple, so hard.

Sadness.

 
Looping the loop, events are going too far. The pressure is as strong to me as never before, my foundations are crumbling, and I just can't keep up.

What shall I do? What if I run away? What if i get by? Neither option convince me.

I want to scream. I want to cry. It isnt't worth, because the pain is still inside me. I'll keep smiling, although that's untrue.

Tiempos de traición

Corazón fugitivo

Buscando un gesto altivo

Un niño pierde la inocencia

El muerto se cree vivo

El sordo oye gritos

Dios ha caído en la pobreza

Esnifo CO2

Un río en rebelión

La iglesia se ha prostituido

Son tiempos de traición

Humo en la habitación

La paz se ha convertido en mito.

Dos cuerpos femeninos

Unidos por cariño

Se venden llamas de esperanza.

Las almas tienen frío

Un beso malherido

Se ha coronado a la ignorancia.

Homicidas del amor.

Amantes del dolor.

Cristo adicto a la metadona.

Son tiempos de traición

Fuego sin dilación.

El miedo ya no se perdona.

El letargo de los poderosos.

Mírate en este preciso instante. ¿Qué ves? ¿Quieres saber lo que yo veo? ¿De verdad quieres saberlo? No, no quieres. Porque dentro de ti intuyes la respuesta, la tienes tan interiorizada y digerida que tu estómago ya no puede vomitarla, y solo queda bilis.

¿A qué viene tanta inquina? Agotas todos tus desprecios hacia ellos, pero no es por los demás por lo que acumulas tanta rabia. ¿No lo ves? ¿Acaso no lo notas, al igual que notas el dolor de la herida que está llevándote? ¡No pongas esa cara! ¿Qué esperabas? Tanta aversión hacia el mundo, tanta repugnancia, y no te paraste a reflexionar en las posibles réplicas. Cuando un objeto imparable choca contra un objeto inamobible, estas son las consecuencias.

No te preocupes, te acompañaré mientras franqueas ese fino momento que separa la vida de la muerte, ese fino letargo, ese pequeño instante en el limbo. Me limitaré a mirarte. Estuve en tu alumbramiento, quiero presenciar tu deceso. Y mientras te diré lo que veo.

Veo una larva, ni siquiera un gusano. Una larva que ha tanteado crecer devorando toda la morera a su paso. Nada te ha detenido, eras tú, y frente a ti, el mundo. ¿Qué más da el mundo si aún puedes engullir sus inagotables frutos? Pero, ¿qué ha pasado? ¿Por qué este repentino sopor? Te has hartado de comer sin nutrirte, ¿verdad? Has tenido tanto y tanto, y los demás han tenido tan poco, que de veras me sorprende que no asumas tener un final tan grotesco. Eres una larva. Te creías gusano, pero eras solo larva, y la inmensidad que te rodeaba finalmente te ha aplastado.

¿No resulta paradójico lo rojiza que emana tu sangre y cómo escapa de tu interior? No lo voy a negar. Estoy disfrutando de esto. Has hecho méritos para llegar a este momento. Ahora deja de llorar y de balbucear. Déjate morir.