Life is so damn hard when you try and make the most of it.
Round and round we go, like butterflies closed into a tiny space by some malevolent child who likes the idea of torture.
Deeper and deeper I go. I no longer have idea of where it was I had decided to direct myself, so I wonder, in and out of the minds of ghosts whom at some point had seemed as real as my own skin.
It's the electricity of lover's hearts being broken by the hands of a dark angel. One of those who decided at some point that letting people lead happy lives was no longer satisfying.
And in the midst of it I find a second of calm, lustrous, sensual and wonderful feelings. It's only one second, gone before I can realise it had come. But it's there, and that is what allows me to survive.
Yes, it's that second, just that instant. It's the moment when I laugh without wanting to, when I can't help but smile whilst trying to feel angry, that moment when the wind touches my face and suddenly I feel free. Suddenly it all disappears and I know, I just know.
That we are alive.
El otro día estaba leyendo y me encontré con esta frase:
ResponderEliminarsi nosotros sentimos mariposas en el estómago, sienten las mariposas humanos en el estómago?
Y pensando recordé esos momentos iniciales en que el estómago se te revuelve cuando vs una llamada de esa persona, o te alegras porque te ha aludado por el mesenger, pero el tiempo pasa para todos y llega un día en que te das cuenta de repente que esa sensación se ha ido y ya solo la voves en momentos puntuales, a eso se le podria llamar a pinfully beautiful thing of the life...
Pensamientos a altas horas de la noche