quietly in our gardens, a timid flower blooms
slowly opens, sweet scent gently wafts
the beauty of nature, amid the hatred
of human kind.
a flower of beauty,
growing in dark realms.
happily waiting to be seen
to be known, to be loved
cheerished for living
and so, then just loved for being around
calm in between the noise, it just is, be it be
because in the noise you find the silence
chaos scapes big crowds
unseen by this loud silence
hush turns into despair
take your sketchbook when it's late
in the night its beauty grows,
reflections of the bright, of
moonlight its paleness glows
contrasts of purple, deep, poignant
is its soul. white of innocence, to be stained,
fragile petals, slowly covered by your ink
that spreads
my white is your satin,
your canvas,
and your eyes,
look at me for longer,
make my fate last
Wassertropfenblüten
Schöner Regen, bringt Erinnerungen zurück,
Als ob tausend Blumen in meinem herzen blühen,
ein zauberhaftes Glück.
Lieber Regen, nimm mich zurück,
Zu den Zeiten meiner Kindheit,
Als das Glück selbstverständlich war.
Erinnerungen eingebettet in Düfte,
In diesen Gefühlen,
in meiner Seele und meinem Herzen,
Tausen weitere Blumen, die jetzt erblühen.
Dysphoria
days turn to months as my promises slip away from my sight. how am i supposed to be what you ever wanted to see in me,
if what you wanted would mean repair the irrepairable mess, of a broken life striving to grow just like that flower
trapped inside the maze of nature. far away from the light, withering, yet not dying. waiting for a reason to wait,
longing for the comforting sign of changing times, seemingly never coming as my last hopes fade.
as time passes my roots keep growing a thousand times bigger than my stem rooting me away from my dreams,
waiting for the last petal of hope to fall. roots scatter all under the maze until it's too late for my maze to be.
time is running, it is slowly collapsing due the strong ever growing roots. the so apparently fragile petal will be its support,
and as long as there is hope it will continue standing
Broken Reflection
in the depths of this digital sea
lost, a solitaire figure
a world of ones and zeros surrounds me
a fragile existence, a temporal thought
an untangible state that represents my all
and so my nothing is rendered to more
this virtual realm, where we search for meaning
a connection to something real, but in front of us,
just a mirage, a distant echo, nothing to seal
there's a mirror, your image reflects
it's broken, glasses scatter everywhere
who is me,
who is you.
you deep gaze into your virtual self
is this who we want to become?
or the reflection of what we truly are
to what our selfish world has shut.
is this what we've left to fit?
the reality we wanted to reach?
a shadow of our deepest fears,
or the echo of our unspoken tears.
cope, dear.
Papercuts
|
in pain we find solace,
catharsis and comfort
when the impotence surrounds us
when of choices and decisions, we run short
we find relief, in this sense of control
they can't pull our strings anymore.
||
cannot cry, as papercuts heal fast
would you dare to demonize, an action of
scape to this despair? a way to keep it going,
without reaching so far, a way to live, and not die.
|||
flows of relief, driping out the despair.
three neat lines they are, even as just, driping
those truths, which weren't to be knew.
Divine Randomness
god has rolled his dice
reckless fate up to decide, our worth
and fragile happiness, is decided by the chance
and judgement of his mind.
hand of god, please have mercy on us
a mix of luck and circumstance
will blindly tell us who we are
who we will become,
no matter which path follows our strives
is this divine randomness?
the mould that shapes our lifes?
the casuallity that our destiny defines
regardless of who we are.
to his eyes pure selfishness,
how could someone decide?
if this free will was nothing but lies,
they were right from the start.
a cruel joke
a heartless game
some are born to suffer
and others to be acclaimed
heartless god, write down my name
my destiny and fate
you know i'll try anyways
let's see how turns out at the end
floating through the loathsome corners of the wired, i was able to meet a new type of forbidden, alien life.
all of them, were full of labels. all kinds of names stuck to their yet biological body waiting for its crude destiny.
among all those names, one in particular stood out for all of them: "weird".
they all were biological animal subjects forced to wait in line, each of them were passed through a machine that extracted
their soul and each of their tags, fiercely tearing them from their skin, leaving to reveal nothing but their now empty insides.
a new label was applied to them, now it read "normal". they were ready to be sent back to society, to be part of.
they weren't an issue anymore, and were ready to be exploited.
we become normal when we lose our souls, then is when we turn into one more branded, mechanical animal.
we give up to the change, to turn into them. we become, them, while getting branded with the "normal" tag given to us.
now that you are lacking of thought, soul, and light you can be part of the society of normal people.
they forced you into this, their power was used against you, and you can't help but
remember every night, that day you went through the machine.
you could have given your last fight, your last will, dying to save yourself from this empty destiny that now torments you,
what if you had fought instead. where would you be now, who would you be now. was it worth it your soul and the pain of your heart?
Virtuality, a new taste of Real.
virtuality. we are floating in this so called "fake world".
a place of relief and catharsis to their dwellers, tired of its counterpart.
some may perceive it as an alternative reality, an escape from the sickening, overwhelming, and perhaps so dirty real world.
but for me, just a raw representation of our very own... reality.
physically, every single bit that is now there being processed by your machine, every connection, state, or transaction is taking place in the
physical world. then virtuality being nothing but a representation of that raw data, that we now can see through our displays
which serve us as windows, to this second view of our reality. a fresh new view to our real world, the astonishing panorama of what we once thought to be
so dirty, overwhelming and exhausting. but now, we want to only see this face of the world
this river of data, is the expression of our soul. thinking of it now, virtuality can be your mind, a book, a painting, a photography.
whatever that makes you feel detached from reality as you know it while at the same time roots you down to the heart of it.
virtuality, a new taste of real.
Flos Labyrinthus
puedes oirlo?
sonido melodioso que fluye atravez de cada ricon
de esta solitaria obscuridad
tan dulce...
tan familiar...
podria ser?
en el corazon de tu laberinto me conservaste,
soy tu preciada flor, me recuerdas?
te conoci desde un principio,
contigo me encontraba desde las mas tempranas de tus memorias
hasta aquel dia que algo te cambio,
de tu flor te olvidaste.
fue ese dia, que tu mirada se torno vacia,
si no fuera por esa seca impresion de temor que de ella emania.
impresion vacia que yo abomine
supiste que anhelaba crecer,
pero esta verdad me prohibiste saber.
verdad que ocultaste de mi, cuya he podido percibir.
en tu laberinto me atrapaste, muy lejos de mi preciado sol.
miedo tuviste de tu propio corazon,
ocultaste lo mas bello de ti de las miradas del exterior,
porque temiste de lo que dirian, palabras hirientes
que te causarian dolor.
mirame ahora, tu flor se marchita.
este veneno que brota de mi no fue sembrado por el
ajeno sino que por nadie mas que ti.
no le permitiste a tu corazon florecer pero hay algo que haz de saber,
el tiempo fluye cual arroyo,
sin haber vuelta atras.
lo que es parte de ti no por siempre haz de poder ocultar.
bajo tu laberinto mis raices crecen,
mil veces mas grandes que mi tallo son,
este deseo no por mucho podras encerrar,
siempre sere parte de ti,
aunque signifique nuestro final.
raices sedientas de luz,
su magnitud nuestro laberinto demoleran,
el tiempo corre, tu decidiras.
mi bellesa es tuya si me dejas surgir,
recuerda siempre.
soy parte de ti,
y tu de mi.
In hac Lacrimarum valle.
el jardin etereo de mis suenos profundos
separado por la lagrima de tormento y estrago
del marco de realidad del ajeno.
llevame alla, porque no puedo entender
la realidad que me rodea. no deseo vivir
en una abstraccion donde mi ser es
deformado en lo que parece ser nada mas
que otro mal innecesario. quita todo odio y
pena fuera de mi, porque de donde mi ser viene
no han de llegar las sombras del valle del penar
y el dolor. jamas he de poder situarme a tal distorsion
donde mi ser ha de ocultarse.
(al llegar el penar, en mi jardin yo anhelo)
en un mundo donde el mas debil es abusado
y el perpetuador adorado,
deseo encontrarme en el jardin donde
mi verdadero ser ha de dejar ya dadas
sombras que lo ocultan, ese ser que todo ajeno
desconoce. ese, que ya una vez libre de su tormento
ha de fulgurar.
(al venir el temor, en mi jardin yo pienso)
in hac lacrimarum valle, vita nostra.
in hac lacrimarum valle, timores nostros.
in hac lacrimarum valle, o Domine, dolor noster.
Soul & Eternity
what's our soul?
how can we become eternal?
are all of our efforts pointless?
in a nihilistic point of view, life is nothing but meaningless
and that, as contradictory as might seem, is what gives it meaning the most.
at the moment we come to life, we get the taste of consciousness.
we become aware beings, having the possibility to experience what we know as life.
having a sense of what we understand as Reality,
we can experience time, emotions, and so on. we are given the gift to feel,
it doesn't matter whether they are good or bad feelings, or whether good or bad feelings even exist.
we just know, we can feel.
pain,
love,
sadness,
happiness...
we just feel.
even when there's no essential meaning in life, we can bring joy to our lives giving it our own meaning by ourselves.
we are not tied to follow a path, we are not following any specific plan nor have any fixed purpose,
that's why we have goals, that's why we can be whatever we want, your purpose on life is what you decide it to be
and that... is the real magic about it.
our essence, is our minds. is what set us apart from the rest, a different thought, idea, taste,
our mistakes, pain, happiness, love... and very importantly, our memories which seamlessly connect it all together.
our souls live in our minds, temporally being stored there until we let go.
every single little thing that i write is a pinch of my essence, a bit of my soul that i leave for you to read.
everything we do, each thing we leave for this world, is a bit of soul, which everybody can enjoy of.
whenever you achieve something, as little as it can be, you are leaving a little trace of what your living being once was.
and then, you become eternal.
this website is a pinch of soul made with love, which hopefully will be around for long enough for people to enjoy and think about.