Jun 30, 2013
Palabras y música.
Las palabras pueden expresar todo, menos los sentimientos o la música. Si yo quiero explicar la felicidad, la tristeza o el amor, puedo intentarlo, pero no voy a lograr el resultado perfecto. La música puede ser descripta, pero cada persona va a tomar la melodía de forma diferente, a menos que sea percibida con la audición. Si se menciona una obra escrita por uno de los grandes compositores de la historia del mundo, la mayoría de las personas sabrían reconocerla, ya que es mundialmente conocida. Sin embargo, si se intenta explicar, las palabras jamás serían suficiente para expresar la belleza de la música y lo que ésta guarda tan profúndamente en su interior. Cada nota, cada tono, cada armonía, todo en una sola obra que expresa un sentimiento que el autor quiso describir, y logró, tan fácilmente. Las palabras pueden contar una historia, pueden ser leídas, pueden ser las más conmovedoras que alguien haya leído en la integridad de su vida, pero esto jamás será completo sin música. Tantos momentos compartidos en nuestras vidas por palabras y música, los humanos hemos aprendido a vivir con ellas. Cada momento está repleto de palabras, cada instante lleno de música. Todo lo que nos rodea, sin pensarlo, es una obra de arte con palabras y música flotando hacia nuestros oídos, haciendo vibrar nuestros tímpanos, llevándonos a algún lado remoto, o simplemente a nuestra alma o inetrior, donde nos conectamos todos en los sentimientos. Lloraremos juntos, reiremos juntos, amaremos juntos. Pero nunca sabremos cómo describir completamente un sentimiento sin la perfección de la música. Intentaremos describir todo esto con palabras, con comunicación; pero jamás se logrará el mismo resultado. Hay momentos en los que se puede oir música en las palabras que uno habla, pero la descripción de ésta, jamás será igual para una persona que para otra. La música y las palabras están interrelacionadas, pero jamás compartirán los mismos sentimientos. Se pueden utilizar para describirse unas a otras, pero jamás será igual.
BAILA!
Si hay algo que molesta, mueve el cuerpo. Haz de él tu energía, suéltate. Vé, haz lo que siempre has visto como incorrecto. Saca de ti lo mejor que encuentres, lo que más mueve tu esqueleto. Haz de ti lo que siempre quisiste ser! Suelta las piernas, lo pies, el cuerpo... Baila! Abre la mente, deja que todo entre, se mecanice en ti y salga en forma de danza, un baile inesperado que haga que todo en ti despierte y viva! En fin, no hay correcto o incorrecto! Haz lo que siempre has querido! Corre hacia ese lugar donde todo lo que quieres en esta vida se cumple, se hace realidad, y te moviliza! Por qué no? Vé, DIVIERTETE! Te lo mereces! Salta, muevete de un lado a otro! Abre los brazos, y mueve los hombros! Nadie puede juzgarte, nadie tiene el derecho. Tu eres quien eres, y no hay quién pueda decirte que no eres así. No te conocen! Dejate IR, y sonrie mientras lo haces! Pero no te descontroles del todo. Hazte respetar, porque sin respeto, te has perdido! Besa, abraza! Pero antes que nada, BAILA! A quién le importa CÓMO estás bailando? Sólamente suelta las extremidades, y sacúdelas! Vé y sé quien ERES! SONRÍE!
Apr 2, 2013
Summer. Summer warmth.
Summer, summer. Summer nights. Summer. Don't leave me. Come back. Summer moments, summer breezes. Summer instants that relieve the pain in your muscles. Summer seasons that make our energy flow slowly through the air. Summer side-walk walks. Summer seconds, freezing instants before everything happens at the same time. Summer, summer. I wonder, will you ever be back?
Autumn, just after summer. Wet, rainy season. Damp hair curling. Clothes are warmer, because summer won't come back. Oh, summer. Summer. Skin tanned by the sun, but you still won't come back to me. The essence of you begins in me, and ends in another. But, still, it is not enough. We want more of you. We believe there is more to you than what we can only see. Summer, summer breeze. You calm the energy circling in my body, make it warmer, calmer. Will you walk my way again? Will you cross my path once more? I miss you, warmth. I miss how you feel in summer. I miss the strength of you weakening my knees, and strengthening my jaw. Summer, summer. You are the months I miss the most, the moments I cherish, the seconds I enjoy. Someday we will meet one more time, and I will have as much fun as you expect me to. Oh, summer, summer. You stride beside me and hold my hand, walking under the clearest of skies, on the warmest nights. You make my heart beat expectantly, to see what comes next just to be able to enjoy what I like most. Nights, stars, water, warmth, and you, summer. When will you come back?
Autumn, just after summer. Wet, rainy season. Damp hair curling. Clothes are warmer, because summer won't come back. Oh, summer. Summer. Skin tanned by the sun, but you still won't come back to me. The essence of you begins in me, and ends in another. But, still, it is not enough. We want more of you. We believe there is more to you than what we can only see. Summer, summer breeze. You calm the energy circling in my body, make it warmer, calmer. Will you walk my way again? Will you cross my path once more? I miss you, warmth. I miss how you feel in summer. I miss the strength of you weakening my knees, and strengthening my jaw. Summer, summer. You are the months I miss the most, the moments I cherish, the seconds I enjoy. Someday we will meet one more time, and I will have as much fun as you expect me to. Oh, summer, summer. You stride beside me and hold my hand, walking under the clearest of skies, on the warmest nights. You make my heart beat expectantly, to see what comes next just to be able to enjoy what I like most. Nights, stars, water, warmth, and you, summer. When will you come back?
Mar 9, 2013
1935 - 1975 Eternal Love.
(Recommended: while reading listen to slow piano music. It is not mandatory)
September, 18th, 1975.
Dear Steve,
My love, my all, I wish you could hear my call for help. It has been almost forty years since you left me, and I still hope to hear your voice one more time. That last day we spent together, I remember you hugged me and told me to listen to your heart beat. I wish I could still hear it beat so close to my ear, feel the warmth of your arms around me. The slow thuds that used to make me relax next to you and fall asleep in your hug. I wish your eyes would look at me again, opening that acceptance of you in my heart. I wish all I could do was say hello to you one more time, one last time, and spend that last day with you all over again. I want to hold you the way you held me, and kiss your face slowly, thanking you for doing what you do, and for being who you are.
The moment we first met, I remember there was no way that you would leave me and go your own way. But after some time, I gave up, let you talk to me, and I got to know you. In time, I realized that you were exactly what I was looking for; everything in me knew you were the one I wanted. After those days, we began spending more and more time together, and all I could think of was you. Two years of pouring love into each other's ears, butterfly kisses and bear hugs, soft caresses on your face and mine, soft nibbles on each other's lips. It was all perfect.
Every time I saw you, I ran to you, I could not bare the distance, I could hardly wait to be in those strong arms that held me so tight against the body that carried them. I could not wait to run the distance, and you could hardly resist running to me as well. I remember the first time you came back from the war in 1932; you looked so happy, that I cried. I cried for the happiness of having you near me again, and for all the months I had spent on my own, trying to convince myself that you were fine, and that everything was going to be okay. I cried because of all the months we had spent sending letters back and forth, and for all the time we waited before we received the next letter, which most expressed how much we loved each other and how everything was. You cried because you could hold me one more time, because you saw me cry. You wiped the tears off my face and told me not to worry, that you were with me. We laughed then, and from that moment on, we spent every day together again, like we used to before you had left for the first time.
When the time came for you to leave for war again, we cried together one more time, and hugged so hard that we could hardly breathe. The past days had been the happiest days of my life. Days, weeks, I treasure in my old heart. I can still hear the beat of your strong heart which I heard those first days we spent together when we were twenty.
On September, 22 of 1935 I received a letter from you. It was dated: September, 18th, 1935. You could not tell me where you were or what you were going to do those next days. All you told me was that you loved me and that if something were to happen, you would always, always be by my side to take care of me and watch me while I sleep. You said that if you weren't to come back home, that you hoped that I remembered only the good and kind of you, and to forget whatever bad you had done, or whatever faults you had. I never found any bad in you, and all I remember now are the days we were able to spend together.
That letter was the last one I received that was written by your hand.
The next letter I received was on September, 24th, 1935. It was dated: September, 20th, 1935. It read: We are sorry to inform you that Mr. Stephen O'Brien has been killed the morning of the present day. I dropped it, and wept for what seemed like years. I then slept, and spent most of my time crying for you, even in dreams.
I miss your hands, your voice, your scent. I miss your words whispering in my ear whenever I hugged you, and your arms wrapped tightly around my fragile body. I miss you. That first day we spent together, I realized we were meant to be.
The memories are beginning to fade away, and I can no longer remember the sound of your voice. It has all been so long ago, and still, the love for you I felt in my heart when I was young remains. In the bottom of my heart, I know you will always be the only one who knew exactly how to love me, take care of me, and the only one who knew me from the inside to the outside.
All I ask for, and have been asking for, for the last forty years is to have you hug me again, and to hear your voice one more time. Just once, because you were what made me smile. After receiving that last letter you had written, I collapsed, and smiled only when being polite, but the sadness remained. It has been too long to remember, but I wish I could be young again, and be held by you once more.
There is no way of saying good-bye to someone who is already gone, but, still, everything counts. So, I bid you farewell my love, my heart, my soul. I say good-bye to you while I can, and still wish for that last hug and whisper of love. I missed you before, I miss you now, and always.
Your eternal love.
Sabrina.
September, 18th, 1975.
Dear Steve,
My love, my all, I wish you could hear my call for help. It has been almost forty years since you left me, and I still hope to hear your voice one more time. That last day we spent together, I remember you hugged me and told me to listen to your heart beat. I wish I could still hear it beat so close to my ear, feel the warmth of your arms around me. The slow thuds that used to make me relax next to you and fall asleep in your hug. I wish your eyes would look at me again, opening that acceptance of you in my heart. I wish all I could do was say hello to you one more time, one last time, and spend that last day with you all over again. I want to hold you the way you held me, and kiss your face slowly, thanking you for doing what you do, and for being who you are.
The moment we first met, I remember there was no way that you would leave me and go your own way. But after some time, I gave up, let you talk to me, and I got to know you. In time, I realized that you were exactly what I was looking for; everything in me knew you were the one I wanted. After those days, we began spending more and more time together, and all I could think of was you. Two years of pouring love into each other's ears, butterfly kisses and bear hugs, soft caresses on your face and mine, soft nibbles on each other's lips. It was all perfect.
Every time I saw you, I ran to you, I could not bare the distance, I could hardly wait to be in those strong arms that held me so tight against the body that carried them. I could not wait to run the distance, and you could hardly resist running to me as well. I remember the first time you came back from the war in 1932; you looked so happy, that I cried. I cried for the happiness of having you near me again, and for all the months I had spent on my own, trying to convince myself that you were fine, and that everything was going to be okay. I cried because of all the months we had spent sending letters back and forth, and for all the time we waited before we received the next letter, which most expressed how much we loved each other and how everything was. You cried because you could hold me one more time, because you saw me cry. You wiped the tears off my face and told me not to worry, that you were with me. We laughed then, and from that moment on, we spent every day together again, like we used to before you had left for the first time.
When the time came for you to leave for war again, we cried together one more time, and hugged so hard that we could hardly breathe. The past days had been the happiest days of my life. Days, weeks, I treasure in my old heart. I can still hear the beat of your strong heart which I heard those first days we spent together when we were twenty.
On September, 22 of 1935 I received a letter from you. It was dated: September, 18th, 1935. You could not tell me where you were or what you were going to do those next days. All you told me was that you loved me and that if something were to happen, you would always, always be by my side to take care of me and watch me while I sleep. You said that if you weren't to come back home, that you hoped that I remembered only the good and kind of you, and to forget whatever bad you had done, or whatever faults you had. I never found any bad in you, and all I remember now are the days we were able to spend together.
That letter was the last one I received that was written by your hand.
The next letter I received was on September, 24th, 1935. It was dated: September, 20th, 1935. It read: We are sorry to inform you that Mr. Stephen O'Brien has been killed the morning of the present day. I dropped it, and wept for what seemed like years. I then slept, and spent most of my time crying for you, even in dreams.
I miss your hands, your voice, your scent. I miss your words whispering in my ear whenever I hugged you, and your arms wrapped tightly around my fragile body. I miss you. That first day we spent together, I realized we were meant to be.
The memories are beginning to fade away, and I can no longer remember the sound of your voice. It has all been so long ago, and still, the love for you I felt in my heart when I was young remains. In the bottom of my heart, I know you will always be the only one who knew exactly how to love me, take care of me, and the only one who knew me from the inside to the outside.
All I ask for, and have been asking for, for the last forty years is to have you hug me again, and to hear your voice one more time. Just once, because you were what made me smile. After receiving that last letter you had written, I collapsed, and smiled only when being polite, but the sadness remained. It has been too long to remember, but I wish I could be young again, and be held by you once more.
There is no way of saying good-bye to someone who is already gone, but, still, everything counts. So, I bid you farewell my love, my heart, my soul. I say good-bye to you while I can, and still wish for that last hug and whisper of love. I missed you before, I miss you now, and always.
Your eternal love.
Sabrina.
Mar 1, 2013
From the Gates to the Wisdom
From the gates to the palace I have described for so long, I can tell you there is a winding path that will take you farther from home than you've ever imagined, and you will experience the most morbid and horrid of times on you way to the innermost heart of the dark kingdom. This path will lead you to your freedom, but it will also lead you to a part of you, which you do not want to know. A part which will make you forget your past and all the knowledge that came with it. All you have achieved through all the years of your life, will be gone as soon as you step across those gates. This is the only way into the dark palace, and the only way out, if you are able to find any. The grim creatures that wander through these places, and the dark magic that lives on the inside of these walls, belong to one master, and one master only: The Great Wanderer. He looks upon good and evil as he would a root or a flower. He has no mercy and shows no mercy. He neither lives nor is dead. He is infinite, but yet, he has an end. He is the lord of all lords, and believes in none and trusts no one. You must be careful as you walk in, and exceptionally careful when you speak. Dare not you look into his eyes, for he will never forgive nor forget the one who stares at him, or the one who dares speak to his eyes. You must bow your head, and he shall hear the cry for mercy, and the plea for forgiveness. Beware... For the road is treacherous, and the path an infinite staircase to the inside of the Earth. At the bottom, He awaits. Impatience marks His every word, and makes Him claw the ground which holds His paws. He will not tolerate the sound of another angry temper; for it is the end of His reign, and the beginning of a new era for this world and the subterranean world beneath our feet, and He knows it. He perceives it, just as He perceives that there is someone coming to take it all from Him. It all begins now, as soon as you enter those gates, as soon as you set your first step on the other side of these walls. It all begins now. Good luck, my son.
Feb 22, 2013
The way it goes.
Deep crease on your forehead, between your eyes, lips pursed, unhappy smile. That's the way you look at me now. That's the way you were not supposed to look at me, the way we agreed was the worst way to look at someone. I know you're talking to your friend right now, but I can't help but shake nervously all over. My hands won't stop trembling, and my body is making noises that indicate a future stomachache. I need to stretch my arms permanently, and yawn too much. This is exactly like the moment that comes before a very important test for which you studied for a long time to pass.
My nerves flutter, and now... I feel nothing. Just blackness, and thunder with no lightning.
I was happy... Until that moment. It will never be normal again.
My nerves flutter, and now... I feel nothing. Just blackness, and thunder with no lightning.
I was happy... Until that moment. It will never be normal again.
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 11, 2013
Normality is the most difficult thing to find.
It's incredible how short time becomes, even when it's longer that it really looks. Everything goes back to normal one second later, just after that time. You knew how you would react, you knew how it was all going to end, how it was all going to turn out, but you didn't mind, you knew you had to appreciate that moment. You knew you had to savor every bit of it, until it had nothing left.
It's amazing how it all finishes, how it all shifts and changes so that you can no longer witness that moment again, even though you wish to live through it all over. From beginning to end, life breaks us, and heals us. It makes us and it takes us down again. Every bit of it is as treacherous as it sounds, and it's just like an invisible, yet solid, path through which we walk. If we give a step in the wrong direction, we might fall down into darkness, but then again, we might not. If you misstep, you can put your hand on the ground right next to your body, and get up once more. But if the ground next to your body is quicksand, you might not be able to get up again, but then again, you just might.
Shake everything off. Have fun, and enjoy life. Savor every moment you live, and appreciate what is given to you in life. Smile.
It's amazing how it all finishes, how it all shifts and changes so that you can no longer witness that moment again, even though you wish to live through it all over. From beginning to end, life breaks us, and heals us. It makes us and it takes us down again. Every bit of it is as treacherous as it sounds, and it's just like an invisible, yet solid, path through which we walk. If we give a step in the wrong direction, we might fall down into darkness, but then again, we might not. If you misstep, you can put your hand on the ground right next to your body, and get up once more. But if the ground next to your body is quicksand, you might not be able to get up again, but then again, you just might.
Shake everything off. Have fun, and enjoy life. Savor every moment you live, and appreciate what is given to you in life. Smile.
Feb 3, 2013
Enjoy the journey.
If I wake up one day, and find you by my side, eyes closed, relaxed, I could think you once had a life where everything went the way you expected it to. Now, you live a life of surprise, a life you have to forget you had the day after, just to see what comes up next. Travel light, for the journey is long.
Now I look at you, trying to figure out what is going through your mind, as your dreams unravel into a shower of color. The moment I kiss you lightly on your eyelids, they flutter open, revealing a melted color. It all softens around you, the background blurs, and you are the only thing I see. I kiss you again, but this time on the lips, softly, savoring every movement. I feel how your hands glide on my body, on an unexplained journey, unseen by my eyes, and how your fingers entwine in my hair. The sound of your voice against my lips, and the tickle of the traces your hands leave on my torso, makes my skin get goose bumps. You whisper my name once, and again. I tremble, and you hug me closer, just to keep us warm. Now my hands trace the outline of your body, softly, with care. It all crosses over, under. It just happens, and you smile again, like you did the night before. Gently, you lean over and kiss me, carefully, and give up. Trying to focus again, you pull back, and stare softly at me. Now you hug me close, and I can't help smiling. My mouth spreads in a grin of happiness, and a laugh escapes my throat, making you join me.
Now, here we sit, hugging each other, and giggling in a whisper. I ask you: "how is it? How does it feel, to love someone, and be loved in return?" You just stare and smile. "Like this" is all you say, just before you throw me back against the pillows and tickle me, until I can't breathe. I'm speechless. I just cannot believe what I just realized.
Now I look at you, trying to figure out what is going through your mind, as your dreams unravel into a shower of color. The moment I kiss you lightly on your eyelids, they flutter open, revealing a melted color. It all softens around you, the background blurs, and you are the only thing I see. I kiss you again, but this time on the lips, softly, savoring every movement. I feel how your hands glide on my body, on an unexplained journey, unseen by my eyes, and how your fingers entwine in my hair. The sound of your voice against my lips, and the tickle of the traces your hands leave on my torso, makes my skin get goose bumps. You whisper my name once, and again. I tremble, and you hug me closer, just to keep us warm. Now my hands trace the outline of your body, softly, with care. It all crosses over, under. It just happens, and you smile again, like you did the night before. Gently, you lean over and kiss me, carefully, and give up. Trying to focus again, you pull back, and stare softly at me. Now you hug me close, and I can't help smiling. My mouth spreads in a grin of happiness, and a laugh escapes my throat, making you join me.
Now, here we sit, hugging each other, and giggling in a whisper. I ask you: "how is it? How does it feel, to love someone, and be loved in return?" You just stare and smile. "Like this" is all you say, just before you throw me back against the pillows and tickle me, until I can't breathe. I'm speechless. I just cannot believe what I just realized.
Jan 29, 2013
What about? I have no idea.
Where do I belong? Is it here or there? Do I want to belong, or do I want to just be?
Time goes by,
in the blink of an eye.
Give your life to what you believe,
and finish what you wanted to achieve.
It all ends one way or another,
but the love you give lives in each other.
Somehow, it all turns out well,
and, looking forward, you begin to tell,
how your life will look,
even if you go by the book.
Start at the beginning.
You never know, you might be winning.
How I love the look on his face, when all he does is play the guitar, sing his favorite song, and smile. His face, marked after years of the same expression, staring into space, reading invisible lyrics. Peace makes him relax, look at ease, and close his eyes, as if he were sleeping. What a life, what a time! What a moment of pure love and passion, a moment of an understanding between musician, instrument and music. A song of a long life, a hard working man, and the love for his wife and his music. The life of this man, I notice. I know.
Time goes by,
in the blink of an eye.
Give your life to what you believe,
and finish what you wanted to achieve.
It all ends one way or another,
but the love you give lives in each other.
Somehow, it all turns out well,
and, looking forward, you begin to tell,
how your life will look,
even if you go by the book.
Start at the beginning.
You never know, you might be winning.
How I love the look on his face, when all he does is play the guitar, sing his favorite song, and smile. His face, marked after years of the same expression, staring into space, reading invisible lyrics. Peace makes him relax, look at ease, and close his eyes, as if he were sleeping. What a life, what a time! What a moment of pure love and passion, a moment of an understanding between musician, instrument and music. A song of a long life, a hard working man, and the love for his wife and his music. The life of this man, I notice. I know.
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