Posted on Leave a comment


I lift my finger and tap once, twice and express how much I like something. My heart remains steady and my breathing breaks as I let out a gentle cough from the unbearable smell of smoke coming out of the lips of the love of my life. This is normal, so is going out everyday and making a living. This is normal, so is changing our plans to fit our moods. This is normal, so is working out our muscles every other day so that we get to keep on living for a slightly longer time, experiencing slightly less pain when we double and triple tap on something we like on a screen when we are 75 years old.

One coffee, two green teas, another coffee and a meal to help my stomach digest the stress of the day and the level of alertness required to maintain a stable job. This is normal. I look up from my phone and I realize that after all my shy attempts during my teenage years to actually escape the world of normalcy, I have successfully landed right in the heart of it as I hit my quarter of a century mark. Maybe many checkpoints are bound to come and maybe none; and here I am still tapping at a screen telling everybody, and nobody really, what I really like.

I cannot solve this mystery; neither will I try. They all know and so do you, we all live here together. We all love together and encourage each other to run as fast as possible towards a glimpse of magic in this world. We run to green places and blue seas, we find the trance and lust of living in the darkness of underground clubs with good bass. We get on the ride everyday and snap a selfie wearing our egos on our sleeves, hoping that the world still likes us because we are beautiful, successful or simply just available.

We all live in this world, some participate others observe; and it is normal.

Normal as it is, how much of what we like have we ever tried? ever learned? ever experienced? ever proactively sought? I ask myself this first, and leave the rest here…

Posted on Leave a comment


 I’m shedding off my masks, I’m standing bare foot on charcoal grounds, and my hair smells of moist breezes and forgotten lands. I gaze the horizons for my home, my long lost haven, but the wonderland I’m in is of my own making. My skin is damp and my palms are sweaty, there is nothing left in this world for me.

I try to physically look back at the roads I’ve trodden, and I have made so many wrong turns my neck began to ache. My own footsteps wore me down. So I stand my ground and the burning sensation in the soles of my feet is proof of my long journey, and a sign that I should lay in the shade for a while.

Above me is sky and below me is over heated earth, I am life here and I am the movement, I am the variable and I am the catalyst. Whatever I do today will change this world I’m in.

Being the old person I am today, has never defined me, for my youth has been well taken care of. I gave my youth away to a child well deserving, a hopeful prospect for humanity. Yet, I am old today, and this land is as forgotten as I am, and my hair is as grey as the ashes my road has become. The books I have written, and the thoughts I have shared are the life I lived. I lived inside my books and through my words. The more complicated my journey got, the more exhilarating and expressive my phrases became. I existed in my characters, and in their choices. I loved what they loved and despised what they did. I have lived so many lives I can hardly keep count.

So today, I am shedding my masks and I am exposing the marks on my face, my eyes have a thousand stories to tell and my soul is an ancient one. This home I am searching for is taking form the faster I walk. I do want the shade and I definitely want to rest, but the home I’m looking for cannot wait. So I gain more pace and I look ahead, for nothing has ever slowed me down, and today neither age nor the world will as well.

As I push the gate open, I am out of breath, my knees feel weak and my head is light, yet my heart functions and beats like it has never before. But I can’t help but begin falling to the ground; out of the blue his hands reach for mine and he tells me I have done a good job. He pulls me up and leads me in. As I step inside, my hair regains its color, my hands become smooth again, and youth slams itself upon me. He whispers my story ends here, and now I can live on forever through my books. I nod with consent and close my eyes. A few seconds later I open a thousand pair of eyes all at once and through them, I never died.

Posted on Leave a comment

This Moment

Without chains, is what I am; without real borders defining what I should be. I do not see myself in the future, not because I have no dreams, but because I feel undefined still. Nothing should break me; I am the strongest person in the world. Or so I would like to be.

You ask me about my thoughts and I have so much to share, but I don’t know if I believe half of them, am I a hypocrite just like you? Yes I believe so. But if I do not discover my truth then I will remain a liar and I do not want to be one. I give my ideas away though my writing and many times my fragility shows, yet there is so much more above and beneath that. I say I am afraid of repeating myself, but how is that possible, for I have been changing as a person with every new heartbeat and new song out there.

My age is far from defining where I should be in my life, for I think I might be doing the absolute wrong turns, just as well I might be gradually stepping closer to paradise.

Many advise us to live our lives in certain ways because of general knowledge. They tell us to take lead of our lives when they are the ones dictating our behind the scenes. Maybe if the sun doesn’t shine and the moon doesn’t rise I will understand how life changes and how days change into miracles or disasters. So I will not wait for that, instead I will scream to the world that I have not figured my life out, nor have I made a great plan for a giant success. What I have done is formed relationships with my being, my mind, my emotions and my dreams. So when the lights don’t shine and the darkness dims my love, I will know I have myself, my soul is mine and no one else’s.

You are reading now, what I feel at this moment, nothing has happened before, and maybe a lot will happen after, but it’s this moment and its mine. It is prisoner to my words and my descriptions, it is here and now, when it goes away my emotions will dim and my words will run dry, my world will go on and so will time. Nothing will stop for me, so I make it seize. I write and I keep it for me and maybe for you. So when you feel this way or judge at least, you will have actual life in front of you dripping from those words. Now this moment is over and so is this song. This page is not close to ending but my words are and my thoughts should rest. My moment of depth is losing essence and gaining shallowness into mere pleasure and satisfaction for reading what I have done.