Dysfunctionality of an Almost Human Mind

I’m back. Back in these halls and rooms. Back within these walls that were meant to keep us safe, warm, loved. I had a dream that you waited for me. That you realized the truth and took it upon yourself to show it. I had a dream but woke up to a nightmare. But that’s ok. I’m friend’s with my demons and they care for me too. The garden is growing flowers you would have loved. Winter is gone and the green of spring surrounds and shows me the beauty of a new day. Soon i will plow the ground to plant hope and someday harvest the joy that was meant for us. I clean the floors thinking of the steps we took together, remembering the smiles we shared. The memory can’t be avoided, just as much as the thought of what could have been. But the truth remains unquestionable, and it is on me to continue, barefoot, longing for the moment to heal, which is now. Yes, I miss you, I won’t deny it. And though I claim to be proud for standing up for myself, the idea that maybe I was wrong continues to hunt m...

While the light dims, the fire cools and the sound mutes, I walk. The path ahead waits for no one, but my steps are heavy and my tracks keep fading, leaving no legacy behind, no trace of what made me strong, and now I'm weak and tired. It is important to remember where one comes from, but it becomes impossible when the fog is so thick you can't even see your shadow. The puddle under my feet is so muddied, there is no way I could see my reflection in it. But if I did, would I like what I'd see? Would that face be smiling or grinning back at me? I keep making the same mistake just for the sake of warmth. I keep stumbling on the same stone in my way, as if it followed me. I can't seem to let go of this stupid idea. The thought of needing to be held. The error of holding on to the thorns and killing my thirst with the blood that drips from my grip. I wish to focus on growth, but I can't even escape the damage, and at this point it feels self inflicted. I trusted too muc...

Life is crazy. Institutionalized and medicated, making everyday worth the time wasted through thick and thin, as if momentum tended towards infinity. Dealing with the treacherous ways of Everything in Between, seeking for air to breath while submerged in the waters that never broke. Left to decay, as the fish take bites of the skin that peels. Oh, the fish... determined to feed with no satisfaction in sight. Once they were beautiful moments, memories uncanny. But they were given the time necessary to become the trauma inducing situations that It carries. Yeah, Life is crazy. Because it's nowhere far from lunacy to consider the helping hand as equivalent to the snack in the way. Yeah, keep biting the hand that feeds and you'll be left waiting for the results. Life isn't responsible for enacting dramas or enforcing consequences. It just walks, and walks, and continues to become whatever it may, and promptly forgets the path already walked. It's not the first time after al...

Benzene and hydrogen cyanide The kiss that never stops As I bathe in iodine May this be the one who mocks The sound of the crash course Unlimited unknowns Taken by the bloddy resource Through the path of broken bones Nothing has ever healed If the sticks don't quit the poke Perhaps the way to yeild Is to hold the weight and fold Words that never cared How heavy was the load Carrying dead bodies ahead In silence, they mourn Let the strings play my tune Dry the skin the devils harvest Open up that fucked up wound And may it rot in darkness This prejudice is real It reminds me what is what The little things I fear Are my demons staring back.

The level of stupid I must be has to be detailed in some of those books that claim to help others, or at least in one of those that teach them white-coats how to help others. Maybe I should be put in a white coat... one of those with really long sleaves and several belt buckles. And something tells me it won't be the last time, because I'm just that stupid... Maybe I shouldn't be so explicit, but that would be to deny life its own existence, because life is explicit, limitless, raw and uncensored. So it is only fair to pay it forward with the same coin. But life is also not fair, it has never been, so what was the expectation if not just the road to dissapointment..? The blame falls in my hands for putting myself out there, again. Being tired of not caring led to trying to care for something that was literally careless. Showing up for something that left a long time ago and didn't even care to say goodbye. The irony is strong with this one, for it was totally called for...

Si los cayos hablasen no hubiese forma de callarlos. Los caminos andados han traido tantas experiencias que resulta casi imposible no pensarlas. Experiencias que no se comparten con todos, pero que todos los que llegaron a viejos en algún momento experimentaron. Las personas, los sueños, las ojotas, los compañeros del viaje han sido buenos. Tanto, que serán parte del viaje aun cuando ya no estén a tu lado. Quejas no caben, pero no todo ha sido color de rosa, pues hasta las rosas traen espinas que penetran y beben la hemoglobina como jugo fresco en verano. Van dejando cicatrices para la posteridad que sirven de mapa en la lucha constante. Esas rayas de tigre que nos hacen fuertes, son las mismas que nos recuerdan que alguna vez fuimos frágiles. Como los pétalos de esa rosa que tanto nos enseñó. Permitirse reconocer el pasado da energía para no temer al pernoctar en el camino. La seguridad de la experiencia es la armadura que protege al chiquillo interior, curioso e inmortal. El haberse ...

As I reach the cusp of this mountain called change, anxiety hits. I am however, not putting bad connotations on the concept of anxiety, for I understand that in balance everything can be great and anything can be helpful. So I wait anxiously for the moment of truth to come and show me what I’m really up against. I fear. But fear is just a way to keep us awake in the wake of new horizons. Again, no bad connotations, only the truth behind the concept. I let my ego guide me, for without it I would not know my worth, because ego is knowing when and how to love yourself. No bad connotations, only truths to concepts. If I were to fall, it would be ok. It would not be the first nor the last time my face meets the floor, which can only mean that I’ve stood up everytime. I don’t pity the empty husks, but I sure don’t envy them either. And that makes me happy because it made me who I am. And who I am is different to what I am, just like where I am is far beyond when I am. And these concepts can ...