Day 27

What shouldn't turn into gold?

This day. This song. Her smile, wherever it may be.

Being finite and fleeting is what turns every moment into something worth having.

Day 26

And what is the word?
What word?
That one. The one that means more happiness than you can bare.
Bear?
No, bare. Like feet.
Like feet?
More than you can stand.
Glad?
No, that's too soft. It's bigger, more extreme.
Excited?
Why aren't you helping?
I'm trying!
Useless...
Don't exaggerate.
It's something like that.
Excellent?
No, it has to do with happiness. With joy!
Overjoyed!
Overjoyed!
Finally!
No wonder she doesn't like talking to you.
But when she does, overjoyed defines it!
You're such a cliché.
Me? You're the figment of my imagination that can't even hold a story for half a page.
...

Day 25

Letter found by a dumpster in downtown LA


And I knew it would come to this. So did you. Remember when I went over to your place for the first time and you [smudged by water] within 5 seconds? What was that all about?
Or that time when all you wanted to do was just stay in my arms? Or when we laughed at night so hard and [smudged by water] exhausted?
I remember waiting for you, eagerly, and feeling complete the minute you walked through the door.
The problem was how fully I threw myself at you.
But I won't be a hypocrite. I won't ever hold back. It felt as it should and I acted as I should.
If that was too much or too little or just nothing at all, it doesn't matter.
I behaved as I should have. And I guess, in a way, so did you.
Now we're [smudged by water] but three.
I guess I'm just stuck with you taking property of my thoughts for a little longer. And once that's dealt with, I won't even have that. But I'll keep the pictures. And the smiles. And the way you felt on a lazy Sunday morning sleeping next to me.
But I know [smudged by water] and you don't.
I don't care. Read this and throw it away, or keep it. I said what I had to say.
But, if you change your mind, [smudged by water] night.

Bye
Me

P.s.: I honestly can't deal [smudged by water]

Day 24

I lay ink to paper until it is drenched and its thirst is quenched. I elaborate over useless nonsense until the beatings of my heart are steady and my hand shakes less every minute that goes by. I battle with synonyms until the equal is not just equal, but superior. But my ink doesn't exist.
Although never ending, my paper and pen are code. Interactions. Light.
I spill all that I must on intangible lines and hope for release.
Then I turn on the TV and forget that I used to have a brain at some point.

Day 23

     The Story of the Firsts

Inside the mind of a dream

Ambushed and scared
Moving between spaces unseen

Trickling down through the memories of you
Running forward without much luck
Yet, I push
Insisting on something that feels lost
Numb. Strange. Cracked.
Going nowhere

Today marks the day that never was
Out with the old, in with the usual

Forever seemed easy
Obviously, it isn't
Racing past the point of self deceit
Growing pains that linger
Easy to take on, hard to take in
This should be normal, but it isn't

You've bled me dry
Ordered my retreat
Used me up
.

Day 22

She remained in the space between the tear and the air; the water drop and the ripple; the logic and the certainty.

She stretched and flowed like a snake preparing to strike, but there was no harm intended in her motions. Still she stayed, cat-like, attentive, ready.

She cast herself out into the open waters of a random day and held on to memories of better ones.

Where lies turn to laughter and bruises become flowers, she would stand.

Where time meant nothing and everything, she would thrive.

Where selflessness begins and community is one, she would smile. And all would smile with her, because All is Everything.

Day 21

James had the power to steal anybody's abilities. If he wanted to be a teacher, all he had to do was touch the arm of his favorite teacher and instantly know how to handle a classroom. Likewise for anything else. Music, Arts, Philosophy, Calculus (although he didn't really see a point for all those numbers), anything was just at his fingertips.
It came with a cost, though. Anybody who James touched would start to loathe him. Not dislike, loathe in the most visceral way possible, as in making their life's goal to turn James's life into a living hell.
He thought hard about who he would be willing to have hate him for the rest of his life.
So he grabbed his own arm and stole his ability to handle bullshit. The self-loathing was a mere consequence.

Day 20

THE QUESTION

It has been 2 months. I did the math. I'm good with that.
I also counted the sighs. But you don't wanna know that.
I think somewhere along the line I must have replaced the clocks in the house. Every tick was a stab at my chest.
I also counted how many times my left shoe touched the ground. For some reason I thought it would be an even number, but it isn't.
I counted the grains of sand that stuck to my car from our trip to the beach.  They were close to the seconds that normally took me to sleep.
It has been 2 months and I can't bear it.


THE REPLY

Instead of counting you should've called.

Day 19

Something I Said?

I should tell you

I should tell you

That sometimes I tend to talk too much

There's a lot of weakness

running through my head

Sometimes I feel like I'm not strong enough

But I keep pushing 

I keep driving through

Cause I know this road will lead to you

Smiling at me

waiting for a kiss

To happen during snowy days

To lift the sadness of never ending haze

Please forget what has passed.

you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Day 18

The Big Red Truck is Coming Down the Street


The steps were longer than I remembered, so I stumbled. No problem, keep going.
I reached the window and stood there for a little longer than I sould. Things looked kinda normal, steady, as if they should happen the way they normally do. Normally. Normal. When did normal become synonym for boring?
I heard voices next door and wondered about the life they were leading. There was smoke. Was that me?
Something happened to my senses and I collapsed to the floor. Was there really any other place that I could collapse to?
The hardwood floors seemed warmer than expected, but there I stayed. The music I heard was loud and weird, and when did people start screaming?
I couldn't remember how all of that started, and an end seemed unlikely.
I dragged myself to the back of the closet and grabbed a blanket.
Was there something I should be doing?
I stayed there and thought of dreams.
The smoke was real.
So was I.
At last.

Day 17

- Survive and rule! - said the King, throwing the newborn over the cliff.

His kindgom was long and cruel.

Day 16

I know you run deep

There's things I may never know

I know the climb is steep

There are places I'll never go

But I'll do my best to spot you

I'll try my hardest to push you

I'll keep you up when

The night closes in

The dreams feel longer

The days feel better

The water tastes like rain

From a clear day

I'll hold you up

I'll pick you up

I'll turn myself around

'Till I'm facing you

I'll back you up

I'll pull you up

I'll get myself off the ground

'Till we are two by two

Day 15

To my mom

So many things that should

So many times that could

For how long must the clock still tick?

Talks that time won't let exist

Time in zones that won't permit

A house of cards, but made of bricks

Water that flows upwards and outwards

From within the chest and splashing to the ground

Love that flows likewise

Perennial

Eternal

As big as the world

Saudade.

Day 14

Spaces

An old man speaks

A clock moves slow

The sand feels cold beneath my feet

And old man sleeps

One hour worth the dreams

The air flows freely through the trees

Something's growing

Something's moving

Right beneath the skin

Something's lurking

Something's brewing

Right on the verge of sin