T.

No he llorado ni extrañado a nadie tanto como te extraño y te lloro, T. Te pienso todos los días. Nunca te voy a olvidar.

Blushing ambition

I've walked down this path before and I should know what's lying ahead. Trouble.

Bring it.

At least this one knows (or seems to know) what she wants and is not afraid to claim it for herself.

To be sure, to go after. To conquer. To want not out of need but out of ambition. It doesn't get much sexier than that.

Am I reading things correctly? When it comes to these matters I almost never know. There's only one way to figure it out.

Yes, I'd like to change this big bowl of silence for whatever is behind the curtain, Johnny.

However

As confusing things may get I know exactly how I feel. The confusing part comes when trying to analyze other people's feelings and possible reactions. Then the percolating thought machine grinds its gears relentlessly in the presence of emptiness.

It is not nice.

I'll watch some TV now.

Boredom

Take note: things do tend to get confusing when you're bored.

There.

Summoning

After such pleasures

Esta noche, buscando tu boca en otra boca,

casi creyéndolo, porque así de ciego es este río

que me tira en mujer y me sumerge entre

....sus párpados,

qué tristeza nadar al fin hacia la orilla del sopor

sabiendo que el placer es ese esclavo innoble

que acepta las monedas falsas, las circula sonriendo.

Olvidada pureza, cómo quisiera rescatar

ese dolor de Buenos Aires, esa espera sin pausas

....ni esperanza.

Solo en mi casa abierta sobre el puerto

otra vez empezar a quererte,

otra vez encontrarte en el café de la mañana

sin que tanta cosa irrenunciable

hubiera sucedido.

Y no tener que acordarme de este olvido que sube

para nada, para borrar del pizarrón tus muñequitos

y no dejarme más que una ventana sin estrellas.

[Julio Cortázar]

I'm (very)

Scared.

Angry.

Heartbroken.

Tarde coloco este post...

(...aunque hoy sea más relevante que nunca por más razones de las necesarias) One Art
by Elizabeth Bishop
The art of losing isn't hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn't hard to master. Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel. None of these will bring disaster. I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn't hard to master. I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster. --Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident the art of losing's not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.