life, mindfulness, poems, writing

Starlight

“My life, you electrify my life”

-Starlight
I think it was a matter of wrong timing. All of the signs were present, i just didn’t notice them. I regret not noticing them because now it’s too late. I don’t have you. I can’t have you. It is forbidden. Some days all I think about is you and the song Starlight starts playing in my head, “I just wanted to hold you in my arms…” The truth is i wasn’t ready–back then–to confess my love for you. And now that I have it’s too late. I think it was a matter of wrong timing. I was too young when perhaps it was a good time. All I know is I fell in love “a través del tiempo” I fell in love with the passing of time and in retrospect remembered you. Two years went by of me repressing memories of you and when they finally came up in a psychosis it was definitely the wrong time and place for a proclamation of love but nevertheless I proceeded. I don’t regret it. Only that I wish I had said it earlier. Right now I want us to conspire to re-ignite, like the song goes. But life is not a song. And you are not mine. 

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blogs, mindfulness, poems, self-esteem

Tired

I’m listening to David Bowie and I think, “why not write?” 

But I’m tired.

Tired of life.

Tired of this nothingness.

Tired of waking up every morning.

Tired of trying to figure it all out.

So today, I don’t want to write.

When will I want to write?

I don’t know.

I just know that I’m tired and that music alleviates my soul and I wish I could be a hero one day like the song goes and write something worthwhile. 

blogs, life, mindfulness, poems, San Juan, Puerto Rico, self-esteem, writing

And so it goes…

Universe, if by any chance you are listening to my words and prayers, give me a sign (ha! If only)

So I’m supposed to study, work, study more and more, study for your masters, study for your doctorate, be a professor, never find love. 

Never find love.

That’s how I feel right about now. Like he will never love me. Like he doesn’t know I exist. Like I will never see him again.

Sorry to wax poetic but love is love and love is everything we have in this world. 

“love will keep us together” goes that song.

It’s a great song but I can’t trust this to be true.

I will never find love, I think to myself. 

And I know I’m just being dramatic but I don’t want all of the fish in the sea. I want one special, lovely fish that is taken. Does that make me a horrible person? I don’t steal people from people. I don’t want to. I’ll let them be. But there is a tiny part of me thinking, maybe, just maybe, something might go wrong. Maybe, just maybe, things will be different. But that is unrealistic thinking, of course. But hey, I’m not a very realistic person. 

And so it goes that I am alone, and so it goes that I will never find love, and so it goes that I will write. 

“Love will keep us together”

But only in my dreams. 

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So I will write…

Today I couldn’t stop my tears from rolling down my eyes. 

Today I wasn’t strong enough to hold them in.

Today I prayed for strength and looked for it inside of me.

Today I saw you even in the lights lining the streets.

Today I wished you didn’t exist.

Today I wished I didn’t exist.

Today I wished I could evanesce.

Today I wished I you could evanesce.

Today was the kind of day where you just want it all to go away–the kind where you just want to cry yourself to sleep because you can’t hold it together.

Today I have bipolar disorder, tomorrow I have bipolar disorder, forever I will have bipolar. Today wasn’t a happy manic day. Today was an I’m very depressed day. Today, thankfully, is almost over. All I will have left are the words written on this page. 

blogs, mindfulness, poems, writing

Poems I love: You are tired (I think) by E.E. Cummings

You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.

Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)

You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.

But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you the places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.

Ah, come with me!
I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I’ll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.

blogs, mindfulness, poems, San Juan, Puerto Rico, writing

“I am sick with longing”

I feel sick to my stomach.

Is it my bipolar disorder? Is it you?

Am I using you as a license to wax poetic?

Perhaps. Perhaps not.

Maybe I’m writing because I have to—because all that is inside needs to come out—it needs to pour out of me (as we speak)

Maybe not.

All I know is that I look for you even in my dreams.

All I know is that I imagine you imperfectly, although you are truly perfection.

All I know is that I am alone but I know you are not. For some reason that is both comforting and uncomfortable.

You are with her. I am without you. You are not lonely. I am lonely as fuck. See how it works?

I hope that she is magic, because if she isn’t—babe, it isn’t worth it.

I wonder why I write as if I were speaking to you. Maybe I wish I were speaking to you. Maybe this is the only way I know how to communicate something about you to the universe hoping life is like that novel The Alchemist and the universe can conspire to achieve my happiness.

Maybe this is truly romantic—an unaccomplished what could be. Maybe if it weren’t all this pain and suffering it wouldn’t be true romance.

All I know is that I will write about you.

All I know is, in the words of the film The Piano, “my mind has ceased upon you.”

Perhaps something will happen in the future. Perhaps not.

Maybe we will be together. Maybe not.

Anything is possible and in your own very words,

“Never say never.””

So I’m not saying there will never be unity, but I’m not saying there will.

I’m saying I’m stuck in the unfortunate in-between, the already mentioned “what if?”

The very “why the hell not?” I ask myself every day.

Why the hell not?! I wish I could scream. I also wish I could scream your name to the top of my lungs. Maybe you would hear a ringing in your ears (ha!, if only) Maybe you wouldn’t hear anything.

I feel sick to my stomach because this reality of your existence without me pains me.

Is it my bipolar disorder?

Nope, it’s definitely You.

I wish I could Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind the hell out of your memories and you wouldn’t exist anymore but the memory of your voice is too sweet to forget.

Sorry to wax poetic but it is fucking lovely.

Sorry to wax poetic but you are fucking amazing

Sorry to wax poetic but I fucking adore you.

Finally, sorry to wax poetic but love seems too little of a word to describe my feelings for you.

Let’s just say there’s a beloved held within deep inside and perhaps in another life, we were together.

Let’s just say two souls entwined make One.

Let’s just say we’re twins—forever separated by Time.

blogs, life, mindfulness, poems, self-esteem, writing

Summer Wind 

The summer wind came blowing in from across the sea…

A mellifluous voice I heard.

I smiled, of course.

Why, when I locked eyes with you, I felt comfortable?

Why, when I stared at your bare hands I ached to hold them?

Why, when it seemed like no one was watching I felt you stare at me?
Were you? I wonder…
I pray that one day I will know the truth.

That that “not yet” that escaped your mouth meant something.

I pray that if you are with her that you feel magic, because my dear, if you don’t feel magic then it is not meant to be.

I pray, and I hope, that one day I can hear you sing “Summer Wind”.
Just then

Then,
Will everything be alright in this world.

life, mindfulness, poems, self-esteem, writing

Burn

It hurts that I remember, it hurts that you are not mine

It hurts that you exist without me-in this moment-in this time

It hurts that I know nobody will ever live up to your name

For you are one and only my dear, if you only knew how I cherish your name,

It hurts that your memory is burned in my conscience, forever in this time,

If it were to be over sooner, I would only ask to see your face one last time.

blogs, life, mindfulness, poems, self-esteem, writing

All I Need

All I need is a sign,

A look,

A wink,

A smile,

A word,

A gesture,

A touch,

All I need is for you to react, to act–

A message, a yes a no–

All I need is an Answer.
Answer my prayer for I am waiting for a Response that could change the course of our Destiny.

All I need is for God to guide me for my Faith has been tested and I am still here waiting–slowly, but surely–waiting for enlightenment.