Lost

The autumn is knocking on our doors again... seasons pass by as travellers do in an airport or a train station and I feel I am always the same. Thinking of you it seems days are more beautiful, thinking of you it seems I can breathe better than ever... but it is just an illusion. I can't live without you, I am not the same person you met that cold winter behind the curtain because time changes our spirit... doesn't it?? I don't know... in fact, I don't know anything... only that here I am, a lonely soul who vagues with no direction, without a goal to be accomplished, without a prize to be won... only me.

This is the solitude or something like this... a dark place where nobody wants to go but everybody has to be in one time or another... a prohibition made by life, an obligation imposed by the world which wants to get rid of us. Think for a moment: who are you? Why are you here? Your presence is ruled by yourself? I don't think so. Every morning, when I am in front of my bathroom's mirror I realize that I don't want to carry on in that crazy world where murderers are allowed to decide what to do that day. What about my freedom? What about my will to decide my own rights? This is a mad world and a sad reality which can't be untangled without being revised by my thoughts... But my thoughts aren't able to decide what is right and what is wrong, because prejudices obstaculize the task, because programmed minds are imposing our fate all the time. Maybe the vodka I have just had is corrupting my logic but this is how I feel today and I hope this feeling to be vanished at the end of my journey into my lonely mind. Lost in my thoughts, lost in my solitude, lost in my life... Bye world... I throw these lines... and that's all... Sadness is the boss and I have no idea what it will come next...

"A new beginning or the last end?
(A suicide note on my bed)
* This is a fictitious writing . Please, don't worry about that"

Hui la dinàmica de l'entrada de blog és ben diferent a l'habitual... La protagonista d'este passeig pels meus pensaments deixa pas a un altre personatge de ben diferent: la tristor.

Hui la tristor és protagonista en la meua vida, se n'ha anat una de les persones que més estime i, ho dic en present perquè, encara que sone a tòpic redundant, ell no està com a matèria corpòrea, però segueix i seguirà tan viu com sempre al meu cor i als meus pensaments. Ell es passeja pels meus pensaments més viu que mai en forma de records, uns records tan hermosos que eclipsen qualsevol altre de dolent...
El meu "dimoni emplomat", com ell em deia, ha deixat de respirar però no de viure; ara viu dins de mi i de tots els que tant l'hem estimat.

Sempré recordaré eixes nits d'hivern "arraconats" a la vora de la ximeneia, asseguda damunt les teues cametes "da quarta", amb un "Celtas" a una mà i l'altra rodejant-me la cintura, discutint perquè no em deixaves la "bufaora" per encendre més la brasa... te'n recordes, "uelito"?

Hui no estic inspirada per plasmar els meus sentiments, són massa emocions les que estan passant pel meu cap i pel meu cor, i totes van massa depressa, intentant assimilar perquè ha sigut tot tan ràpid, sense avisar amb 15 dies com fan amb un lloguer o un treball...

Sempre t'estimaré "uelito", sempre estaràs amb mi, i ara et necessite més que mai, has de donar-me forces perquè he de tancar un cicle i sé que m'ajudaràs a fer-ho des d'allà on estigues.

"Va, dona'm un besito! Aixina nooo!! Dels que tu ja saps!!"....