Yesenia // A writer has the power to end an entire universe only by using a mere period and end. It could be said that whoever writes kills, and gives life. She plays at being God and nobody questions the morality of the individual owner of the keyboard. I like to think that I can be a kind of life engineer even if it's just between the pages.
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My writings are ships that navigate in an endless number of letters that will not reach their destination.
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Here I am, in the middle of this constant relativity, where my space-time is defined in you and by you. Where the gravity between our bodies, is only that inevitable force that exerts our touch and our skin. Where every feeling that emerges from our hearts becomes a complex paradox between reality and poetry. Where our electromagnetism is, that chaos of kisses that always ends in the majesty of a sunrise together. Here I am, being a dependent of that cosmic force that bears your name, of your life force, completely in love with you, my universe, my astronomical and sublime love.
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I bury myself in the woods, but find it necessary to emerge again,
Mary Shelley, from “Letters Written During a Short Residence in Sweden, Norway, and Denmark,” (1796)
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We could be more than a night of stars and mountains, nights of coffee in the light of the moon, nights of music that sweetened all our senses, we could be everything but you chose to be nothing.
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I can be a storm and I can be calm. I can get lost in the labyrinths of my mind, and I can get back under control. Marking the steps of different souls that live in my mind, and go out into the world to know them. I can stay in a corner of my past, praising what I miss and have no more. But I've never liked to live with compassion, so I see that corner from a distance, as someone who learns what the cycle achieved and lives from the present because he knows he will leave. I can live in stillness, but I like the disaster of breaking the rules, living to the limit and betting everything for a dream because there is nothing more than that dream that translates into oxygen for me day by day. I can say that I have behaved all this time as a being of light, but it would be a lack of respect to my darkness that tells me to explore and know my demons, because it is better to know the worst of you than to omit the negative. I live from a false prefabricated image. I can tell you that I have always been capable, but my desire sometimes breaks down and I can not for a time until I tell myself that I must be able to live from eternal failure because I do not want to face it. I am light on rainy days. I am darkness when the light burns. I am addicted to loneliness and then to melancholy. The pencil that tells me to believe, and the voices that order me not to stop because the weather continues, and very soon I will leave as the waves go to give life to a new process.
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Some old loves that I have caressed in front of the sea, loves that today are no longer here with me, however, even the ocean continues to transmit the same sensation in me, running through my veins its blue waters, the sea has not left, and I can I still love many people, but the sea will remain here close and within me. Because the sea is my true and eternal love
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Even if today I miss you
Even today without the moon, in my sky is present the same nocturnal luminary with the same icy wind of our old nights. Nights of coffee and deep talks of two minds that did not need effort to understand, those nights where love began to be born in two lonely people. Even if the wind blows stronger today, my skin feels and remembers the same summer sea breeze present on our first and last trip together in the middle of the ocean. Where your eyes in the middle of the night were like two blue luminaries that shone even more than the moon. I wish not only memories were stored in my head, because that would make it easier to forget them. But time passes and we are traveling on very separate paths, each time I move away from you and you from me. However, you still live here, through old scenes that go through my head like a roll of a classic romantic movie, where the protagonists end up distanced despite the fact that they love each other too much but not enough. Oh ... I wish you would love me enough so that you would not have left me. But even the strongest love, comes to fade when there is no where to hold, and my last hope to unite our paths again, are dying already. Letters that were never answered and I waited too long for your answer, but I do not wait for you now. Do not be surprised if I let you write, do not be surprised if I start writing for someone other than you, do not be surprised if my heart starts to pound again, because you have left, you broke something inside me, and although Now I still feel like I miss you, I no longer ask you to come back, do not do it please.
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