Tag Archives: time

I remember

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As I go on in this journey of the soul, lost to the idea and struggle of getting what I want, and somehow believing that I will never get it, carrying on my shoulders the blessing and curse of feeling too much deep inside and close to nothing outside… I remember you.

I dare say every single person I have met has left a mark in my life. It is not cliché, that phrase that says we are all unique, whatever we are meant to be. We can only see another person through our own eyes, but here it goes…

I remember you father, every day. I miss our subtle disagreements and quiet understandings. I wish you could be in more chapters of my book of life. Few words, as it was, as we were, as it is.

I remember you, the thief taking advantage of an unexperienced and lonely heart.

I remember you, the teacher with family, friends, study, work, paths and omissions on his juggling hands. A man with a strong desire to share your beliefs, guided by your faith and your wish for enlightenment to someone else in the same path you found it. I remember you when I read the news of the struggle of your native land, I suffer with you.

I remember you, the sweet man with a permanent smile on his face, and a little sadness in his heart. A kind soul that used to cheer me on. A friend living in a foreign country, trying to stay in touch with what really matters. September is your month, happy birthday.

I remember you, the intriguing man who has the ability to take me through the whole spectrum of feelings. I keep learning good and bad things about life and myself thanks to you.

I remember you, the young man impossible to forget right now while we are still snoring side by side, at midnight, and love has not ended with the night.

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Made up wars

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Take up arms. A new made up war that was planned long time ago by a bunch of brain cells.

Take up arms. In defense of liberty. In defense of profit. In defense of peace. What is real?

Take up arms. The location was unknown until the day that beheld a  revelation had come.

Take up arms. Face the unknown that makes you worry and rant; and calls for teary eyes.

Take up arms. Make plans. Make distances insignificant. Make time spread, as ductile steel.

Take up arms. You bear the unbearable. Wicked pain. You might faint, but strong you remain.

Take up arms. Today, tonight. Tomorrow. I share with you my soul if yours gets stumbled upon.

Only real wars are worth the fight. The only real wars are those from the heart.

Clock

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Life is very good right now. Life could be better though.

New experiences and new hopes have been born. But also some of the old; the secondary clock in my computer is still set on Amsterdam’s time.

The alarm goes off in the mornings, waking up is as difficult as ever, but there is so much to look forward during a working day.

Yet… I’m in love with love. Feelings imitate chameleons. What’s up? Move on, walk on, fight, grow. Keep hoping for the best, prepare for the worst.

Dearest ally and enemy, oh clock.

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The bus stop

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Her mind was racing. She used to see him there, sitting down calmly while talking on his cellphone; always wearing a brown fedora and occasionally caressing its side as if the tactile connection was necessary to keep him in this world, at this moment.

A pair of tired feet guided her to the familiar bus stop, a three button blue coat keeping her warm, and her heart beating slightly faster than normal… He was there, and again, they shared a glance. One throat swallowed making an audible sound, and it echoed to the place and time the writer of the story is currently at.

It was a cold late afternoon, one of those who remind you of recycled paper instead of orange and pink cotton candy. The tiny roof was leaking rain drops that accumulated up there not too long ago, and as they fell down they were serving as part of the soundtrack of silence clashing against the carved concrete tiles, along with the noisy engines kept inside the multicolored passenger vehicles.

One minute, seven months, or an eternity went by. Making her way through the crowd, a last bus of the line 27 was taken by her. He left right after that.

And it was not because he waited for her every day, it was not to see her come and to watch her go. It was not because he was struggling for courage to start a conversation with her. It was not for a certainty, that was only building inside her… No. The trip back home took him there every day, at the same hour as hers, and he had a bus to take.

And time, eventually, said it best.

Starts with the 12th and the 15th

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Put on a brave face now, hustle your step

Sing not in the frequency matching my soul

Pack up your bags and come downstairs

It has arrived with dawn, the time to go

Forget it all: truths, lies, facts and acts

Weep not one more time, miss the glow

The treasured memories were overrated

Dreams did not have the chance to grow

What it may have been and what it really is

Do not fool your eyes covering what is known

Unfold your wings, sail tempestuous skies

Listen to the wind whisper, this was not home