Rain and Her

The bell rings, the light drizzle of rain slowly massages your cheeks while cleaning your pure guilt from tormented passions. You walk fast as the rain gets heavier and the bell is about to finish its cycle, and there it is, one beautiful piece of existence, sitting on the side of a curb staring at the magnificent view of the gloomy horizon over the bluest sea.

Her face shines as if the rain cannot get to her and the sun is above her as if it was born just to warm up her shadow. Waves of the waters mimicking her gentle smile and with each breath she takes, the clouds dance a beautiful tango. Her hair blowing lightly as if the dust of the universe caresses her head while playing the strings of a guitar made of the milky way.

She stands and start walking your way like she was drawn to you by a magical force of attraction. As she gets closer your eyes come to contact, and there it was, the answers to every love you have ever looked for, every mystery that ever baffled you, every story that did not have an ending, every theory science could not proof, every moment that leads to you being there that moment.

Then she passes and never turns back, neither do you, as the magic of something sacred that passed is followed by a must feel regret to be felt until the moment replicates itself in another existence.

My holiday tips:

  • If you had a goal in 2012, keep pursuing it in 2013. Never quit!
  • If you have a problem with someone, bury the hatchet! life works against you when you hate
  • Eat healthy, work out
  • Maintain your sense of humor, life is prettier this way
  • Last but not least, appreciate the quality people in your life, they are the ones who define who you are

Crushed

The ticks of the clock falls from the flow of eternity and breaks, awakening the deep worries buried within the deepest corners of the ignorant soul.

The consistent tries to make thing work in a fascinating way has turned into an effective tool to craft lines on the present so that tears find their ways to the murky waters of deception and self torture.

No thought is pure enough to surface the mind and break the door that locks the real spirits within the one spirit. A whole world locked within me is ready to fade and become one boring lonely speck of nothingness. So why there is 33 spots i cannot locate in my heart? are they the dwindling lifespan on my human spiritual progress? or is the self timer about to awaken me when i am in my deepest state of infused anesthesia?

Dreams are blackened by the happy moments that are drawn on the window of soul indulgence and crippled satisfaction.

There is no ending to my train of thoughts that flow through my brain to leave me paralyzed with bits of imagination that realty envies so much that it dreads and fears.

Born addicted, then became addicted once more to the beauty of unattainables.

The body rest in peace while the mind goes into a deep stage of epiphany about unseen unreality.

I am loving it,