I’ve Been Waiting For You

I really don’t know what I’m doing right now. I’m very tired, it’s 3 a.m, and my fingers and my head are all just fucked up from working all day long. But I need to tell you that you are the only reason I am not collapsing yet. You are the only thing keeping me insane enough. The hope of seeing you again is keeping me away from my sleep, from my food, from my worries and from my daily routine. All I can think or talk about is you. And your smile. And the blue tinted eyes that I’ve been staring at my entire childhood. And, god, this amazing voice that comes from the bottom of your chest.

Do you remember the crazy stuff we used to do as teenagers? The day we’ve almost got arrested, and then you passed out on the bathtub. Can’t stop laughing at this just yet. I just keep staring at the window, thinking about the day you will come through the door, hug me and say that you’d never want to leave again. Even knowing that you’ll have to. There’s no moon on the sky tonight. Wonder if you can see many stars from where you are now. I don’t know how many times I just lost my nights sitting here, wondering where you are, what you are feeling and doing right now, if you are thinking about me and the life you’ve left behind. At that time, if had asked me, I would have followed you. My god, the mess you’ve left… The hole in my heart and life. I just can’t believe you’re coming back. It doesn’t feel real.

I’ve been waiting for you. Anticipating what you do. I’m just sick of waiting for bad news. Day after day, I’ve been thinking about you and missing you. Feeling uncappable to feel absolutely happy about something untill I have the chance to tell you about it and see your smile. Oh, yeah, that’s why I’m still here. To hear you sing and say lots lots of shit until I start crying of laugh. To hear you say that you would have stayed for me. That something in my eyes makes you feel like you can’t live without me. That one day you will buy that black diamond ring for me, and ask me to marry you. Maybe it’s all bullshit. You are full of bullshit. But you are the reason I get off of the bed every single morning and get my shit together. Inside your beautiful blue eyes lies my strength. I’ve been browsing through all of your recent photos, and god, I’ve almost forgot how handsome you became.

All of this may sound strange for any other person who doesn’t understand our friendship. But you do. You say these things to me too. And we both know how about we really are soulmates.

Do you remember?

“Cuz all of me,
Loves all of you
All your curves and all your edges
All your perfect imperfections
You give your all to me
And I give my all to you
You’re my end and my beginning
Even when I’m losing I’m winning”

 

I love every single thing about you.

 

SCAM.

Scared To Death

It’s have been a while. I noticed my inspirational moments and brainstorms have been far too rare by now. Usually, I write in the middle of the night, when my mind is uneasy or unhappy. These days I have been like this at the daylight too. 

I’m employed now, for about a month or so. Totally unhappy and insecure about it, though. And having lots and lots of time to think about life and it’s sacred questions. The ones no one ever talks about. 

Some strange things are happening in my house. It’s the kind of activity that we train our minds to ignore. Doors slamming shut or open, stuff out of their places, cats scared to death with no reason. Now, you see, I’ve never been a really spiritual kind of person, but these strange activities combined with my absurd lack of luck these days are making me think. What if I am haunted, or possessed, like in the movies? It’s like almost everything is going so wrong. Always feels silly think about it, and I remember the sweet and cutest little rhyme of Tim Burton’s Vincent: 

You’re not possessed, and your’e not almost dead 
These games that you play are all in your head. 
You’re not Vincent Price, you’re Vincent Maloy! 
You’re not tormented or insane, you’re just a young boy. 
You’re seven years old, and you are my son 
I want you to get outside and have some real fun.”

Maybe these games that I play are all in my head, like always. Maybe all I need is to get outside and have some real fun. 

Beyond any fear of the unknown that I could have, what I fear the most is gettin’ caught in mediocrity. My incapacity of drawing anything, even a little fucking skirt is scarying the shit out of me. I’m so afraid of becoming a cliché. The strugglin’ artist, the tortured poet. What a joke. 

The light at the end of the tunnel is getting too grey.  I have to get the fuck out of here. 

And for the ones who’d never saw Vincent, here it is! 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5s85a-fAwaI

The Foreboding Sense Of Impending Happiness

I don’t know why I always write in the middle of the night. For many times, I’ve already got into bed, and had to get out, turn on my PC and start to blog like 3:00 a.m.. I think the right side of our brain always work better at night, right? Because of the mystical, romantic atmosphere, maybe. But nothing drags out of my mind that I am afraid of people reading what I have to write. That I just wait till all my friends on facebook and twitter go to sleep, to tell to no one some dark or fragile aspects of my soul, even knowing that I have the urge to make it public. 

Today I have met a foreigner guy at the internet. We spoke for a couple of hours, and he is from the country that I have dreamed with my entire life. I never knew why my fascination for a country so forgettable for the others. This guy told me about some habits they have where he lives, and described me some of the places that I only had the chance to see by photos and imagine how it feels to be there. 

The need to be in that place, even if all by myself, became a lot bigger now. I had never spent an entire day planning only one thing, like I’ve done today. Did you already felt this urge, dear reader? Have you felt that your destiny, life, love and heart belongs to a ground that your feet never felt before? Because I can lay on my bed and stare at the celling, or sit by my window and lose myself in the night sky and feel that my heart and soul belongs to another place, and another people, far away from here. I daydream about it all the time. Trying to feel how it’s like to meet the friends I’ve never met, the lover I’ve never had, visit the places that I belong but never seen before. Listening to stories, and being a piece of this whole culture, so old, wise, and fantastic. 

My days are passing me by. I’m not growing younger or prettier. And my life is a mess. I have no idea on how to figure my life out. I am depressed, stressed and not very well dressed. I’m unenployed, hopeless, and less romantic everyday. I am becoming bitter, and after all these days drowning in apathy, feels so good to dream. I’m feeling so optimistic about my new plan of running away. Even if it’s only for a month or so. 

I wish I could tell you, my lovely reader, the story of my life. I feel that I have so much to share with you, and maybe you could learn something from my mistakes and accomplishments. I will do that, some day. I don’t know how my life is gonna be, what places my path is going to lead me into, and what kind of people are going to cross it. I am totally lost. But I know this is temporary.

All I wanted to tell you, is that the story have a happy ending, like the fairytales or epic battles where the hero pass through every challenge with honor and courage, and have his wife, children and friends are waiting for him at home. And all of them celebrates his victory, and listens to all of the lessons he had learnt the hardest way. But it’s far too soon for we to know how this story ends. 

All I can tell you by now, is that are great things coming for me very soon, and I am coming for them too. Good things comes for the ones who wait, but great things comes for the ones who act. 

Remember: You are the hero of your own story. Are you prepared to fight the dragons? 

Life is far too grand to be lived in the dark. 

If you had read this till the end, I love you for listening to my wandering. If you didn’t, even knowing you would never read this, I love you too. 

Sending much love and light for everyone, specially for those who wasn’t so kind. 

Mayu. 

 

You wake up. He’s right there, by your side, looking at you, smiling, like he was like this for hours before you open your eyes. And he was. He couldn’t stop looking at you, seeing perfection in all of your imperfections, smelling the pineapple essence of your hair all over the pillow. He couldn’t help thinking he is the luckiest guy in the world just for having you. He was made for you, as you are made for him.

You strech your arms, touching his chest as he frown his forehead. Your touch burns his skin with desire. He wants you. He wants you so bad. He catches you by the waist, pulling you up against him. Your faces are caressing each other before the sweetest and deepest kiss you’ve ever had. Every touch, gesture, kiss or word means that he’ll neve leave you, that he’ll never give up on you, that he’ll always be around.

You whisper his name by his jawline as he enters you, fullfilling all of you emptynesses, all the gaps of your soul. You have never felt this happy before. All of his movements makes you grow hotter and desperate, begging for anything that he could give you. You both come together. You both say how much you love and need each other.

And then he get up for his bath. That’s when the sadest realization comes to your heart, and you become cold. The time for real life has entered by the window with the sunlight, and now you have to go. You have to go because nothing’s perfect. Because you aren’t living a fucking fairy tale. Because the greatest happiness of you life is a lie, and there are people that wouldn’t handle with your happiness.

You pick up your clothes and tie your shoelaces. He’s even looking at you, and it hurts. You know he’s protecting himself. You know that he’s suffering just like you. But he could grab your hand. He could say that everything will be okay, even if it’s not. You say you’re leaving. He doesn’t ask you to stay. He can’t. You stop as he hold your hand and pulls you up against him, holding you tight, giving you a kiss. He asks if you know that he loves you. You say yes. You say you love him too, even knowing that it doesn’t change anything. You’re still going to wake up alone next morning. You’re still going to count the days left to see him again at work. You are his prisoner. Every single thing you do, you do for him. Just for him. Every single breath you take, every single heart you break. All for him. But just for the weekends.

The Beginning

Everything I like, I like very hard and this is not always healthy, but I can’t help myself. As time passes by, you’ll notice that every single thing about me is a little bit stranger and a little bit dangerous.

So, this wordpress blog will help me to express my tastes and whatever a thought is interesting.