To my dearest enemy

Why do you call yourself insane?
Have you gone across the ocean up to the other side of the world for something that you wanted?
Have you told a million lies to tell a huge truth?
Have you broken any structures to build your own?
Have you ever thought of building your own? Brick by brick?
Have you been able to run through a real green field?
Have you exchanged your old fears for a new quest?
Have you looked at what is behind your own mirror?
Have you found yourself while hearing the last bell toll?
Have you felt the knife when you turned back?
Have you followed any footprints on your nights of wonder?
Have you locked yourself and thrown the key deep into the sea?
Have you declared war to the whole world?
Have you become a midnight tyrant and a love crimer?
Have you been close to triumph among them all?
Have you bled and spilt yourself all over the place to stand up again?
Have you dared to catch a full sunrise?
Have you tryed to keep your turns on the ground?
Have you got your way to change it all eventhough your head was being chopped off?
You know what? ...I have.

One day I'll move on to a different reality

It's sad how I always write this journal back again when my existence is about to collapse.It's sad the way my returning first line begins after all this time that passed.It's sad looking at me right now.
The left half of my head aches terribly as if there was someone hammering it over and over without stop.I feel like in that song by the Rolling Stones,I think,which says: "with no loving in our souls and no money in our coats,we can't say we ain't satisfied" but I can't say I'm satisfied,this thirst is still unsatisfied.
"Do as I say not as I do" she was really telling me when she said that everything was possible through self effort and hard work no matter what may step before.I supose that even the strongest ones weaken every once in a while...or very oftenly as anybody else does.I don't hate her and I won't calm my rage againts her.In fact I have no rage to get rid of but a huge sadness eating me away from feet to head and makes me wonder,why I didn't bleed my life away when I had the chance? Why was I given a second chance when everything crumbles and I'm just there holding on to a non-existent hope?
If I had a dream now it seems to be way further away than before up to the point of doubting if one day I will be able to achieve it.Even worse is that thought of being able to achieve it one day but when that day arrives,I would no longer care about it since I'd be completely drained and therefore,conformed with missery and lacking of any sort of high aspirations.That'd be the fallingdown and ruin of all in what I once believed.
We're on spring and spring makes everyone happy because it means the beginning of something new after the deep and frozen winter sleep.It made me happy too but that happyness left the same way it appeared.I remember about my last wound.I no longer feel it and maybe that's because now I have a new one to feel or worry about.The other bled as much as it could and it ended up rotting...it ended up boring me.
I see him and seeing him makes me glad.Seeing that everything goes just well for him gives me comfort and delight which is weird since,although I don't wish evil to anyone,I don't get extremely happy for those whose things work just better than for me either.This is different and lucky be the one who can share his happyness.I'm just a million miles away from all this and the only thing I can do is dreaming of being there until something isuddenly and somehow changes or I have a stroke of luck.
There are nights and days in which I dream about him.And when that happens a window seems to open wide and I go away from this house of pain flying.What a wonderful feeling and maybe that's why it's unreal.Finally I wake up from that dream or daydream and again I'm back to this maze with the simple consouling of maybe dreaming again (another painkiller to hide the pain).I'd rather be dreaming than sleeping because sleeping is just lying on a bed with your head empty and your body cold,what's the difference between that and being dead? I don't think he dreams about me,why dreaming on something sad when real life is not?
I'm frozen and most of the times lying on my bed but still I can dream so I guess I'm not dead,no I'm not yet.
That hammering in my head stopped at last but I'm still submerged in an ocean full of sorrow and the only thing I'm left is the daily routin.I know I'm always going on at the routin and its curses but I'm always afraid of collapsing and this completely crumbles and finally I end up turning into what I'm always struggling againts...and that is mediocrity.
She won't give any fight any longer and he's just an unreachable dream althought there's still some little sence of hope lost somewhere deep inside myself...time will tell.
So everyday life is all what I've got left and let's start all over again...everything will just stay the same way,there aren't magic solutions,not for me.But maybe one day which won't be tomorrow or the day after,I will be able to move on to a different reality.

Look me (look you)

Early morning and the sun was just waking up enlightening the whole scenery covered in dew but it was still dark.There was my partner sitting right in front of me sharing a not so unpleasing silence.It's funny how,after sharing a couple of hours in the same train compartment with someone,the silence built in between becomes not so unpleasant and the other part not so unfamiliar but still a stranger.
The stranger,the compartment,the dawn and I.
She looks to some spot lost in eternity,maybe she's thinking about the past.It's hard to think about it and even harder to figure out what will happen next even on this asleep automaton train.

There was a younger her,bright and smiling dancing from one corner to another of the room.The ball was amazed at each of her movements and expecting what she might do next.These are the type of places full of disguises in which we are invited in to show what is deep inside.And so she was dancing in the melted snow stealing some absent souls and blowing some spirits away including her own.
Endless sky dressed as a white ceiling full of chandeliers with candles burning bright and shining through those hanging crystals.She was flying and her colours bleeding into one,she kept on running far away from the crowd...so far away.

Suddenly her eyes stared into mine.She discovered me lurking into her thoughts and trying to join one with another.She smiled and the world stopped.The sun was already shinning,the train kept on running,maybe we were all bleeding into one now and dancing around sky chandeliers holding a cloudy ceiling.
Her eyes went back to that old lost spot and everything went back to its place.The stranger,the compartment,the dawn and I.That was it.

Dead calm

An old version of me in situations like this would have already given up everything,locked herself in a room and remain staring to the void which would had grown deeper and darker with the pass of time.

Voids which later on would be turned into deep lakes have been always a fast way out or following scene to this,my own play.Maybe my audience is tired of the same ending,maybe me as a character I am tired of this type of ending which I can't honestly say if it is really the end...the end of what?

Dead calm surounds me,its meaning is unknown no matter what feelings which may be close to the truth tell me.Doubt is the common law in the world of madness and miracles.

I'm a high hoper

Laugh at me.Yes,laugh at me and try to land me back on earth,try to cut my wings,try to make me happy with missery.
See me flying,see my whole self beating on another frequence,following another rythm,singing different tunes.I'm no poetess,I'm just another frustrated being roaming this world looking for her place but honestly,I just don't fit in.I used to get drepressed about it but deep inside,why fitting in such dreadful madness when my own fullfills me? Good or bad but still mine? Still me?
This is a secret no one will be told while I share it with the whole world,going to extremes has been always be my speciality.
...
Take it or leave it.
Is this a dare or a double dare?

Waiting is a whore
Well,bring it on.

Thrill me.

Heal you.

There's only one way

Yes,only one way

Will you eat my cancer when I turn back?

More than that.

The more,the merrier.
If you win,I let you eat my heart.
If you lose,my hunger will be still unsatisfied
As always.

I'm a high hoper..so fucking WHAT?

Extract: Why do they call you the Devil's Disciple?

"...Becauste it's true.I was brought up in the other service; but I knew from the first that the Devil was my natural master and captain and friend.I saw that he was in the right,and that the world cringed to his conqueror only through fear.I prayed secretly to him; and he comforted me, and saved me from having my spirit broken in this house of children's tears.I promised him my soul,and swore an oath that I would stand up for him in this world and stand by him in the next.That promise and that oath made a man of me.From this day this house is his house; and no child shall cry in it: this hearth is his altar; and no soul shall ever cower over it in the dark evenings and be afraid..."
(The Devil's Disciple by Bernard Shaw)

Sulk

It's just a matter of looking to another corner and pretend I'm not paying attention.Yeah,I'm not paying attention but I'm paying back with some polite and bittersweet irony.Anyway,we agree we're fond of this and watching is what I like to do.

-Blamberose

Host,open the door

There was you,among what was left of it all,bleeding strangers' lives away and breathing from what will never be.There was you clinging to already woken dreams,to what one day you wished it to be.
Day after day maybe unwilling to keep on turning grey and worshiping your living grave,you still try to rejoin different pieces of broken dreaming mirrors.But the pieces would just not fit,what was left miles away won't ever return.
There you are still waiting for your thirst to be quenched,waiting for the cure to rain.In these standing bleeched skies no single drop is willing to fall.Before these skies you seem to fade away.

Breathe in and out,a final cut for the pain.
Would you open the door and make it all go away? Would you let me in? Would you let me in?

-Blamberose

Cross over (and out)

...And of course I'm living in another season and while that band plays I'm just singing different tunes and following a whole different rythm.The structure crumbles,walls melt into streams and all that was and will be just bleeds into one rain pouring over me.
Achtung! your storming and never ending winter have been interrupted,locked up and the key thrown away.
That beverage was cursed,but it felt good,it does always feel good and even better after dying of thirst over and over again.That key bled into it and now and then I feel it running from one place to another deep inside,too deep inside...buried away but always willing to come back and release the hell.
Walking outside in another urban dead grey sky afternoon,raped violence twisting on the floor,madness reinstalling control and your voice screaming trying to get through my wall...but I was flown far away,to another season,another room...another chance.

-Blamberose

Beginnings

What about beginnings? They are the worst things ever existed or for me are way difficult,but once you're in you just keep on going,no matter how clumsy was the first step given...one day it'll be different,of course,but that's my never ending struggle.
Why in english? Since it's my second language, know some non spanish speakers and write in this language too,I want to share it with the rest since writing is what I like doing and translated things are not always exactly the same,they may be better or worse.

Foolish or not,here I go.

-Blamberose