1)
And how would it be? A new world?
A new life?
A new time, made for a new form of living and a new way which is mad or madder than the madman who lives to die or dies to live.
What is this?
What is desire if nothing else than a spot or a place in my heart to which I swear to live and remain unfearful to die, or if at all or if anything else, who am I now or who will I be now?
Who will I become now that the older versions of me have been dismissed?
And so, if I am free to exist, then how can I exist when my previous world ceases to exist? And if I am free now, or if I am free to exist; then what does the world look like ahead of me? And how grand is this world now that the new world ahead of me is bigger and brighter than my fears of the unknown?
Still, I go.
I stay.
I wait and I often pause.
But more than ever, I want to go.
I dream and I cruise the ideas of me, somewhere else, or perhaps I can be far, far from here in the lands where even God, Himself is amazed by the craftsmanship.
I know there is more. I know there is far more than we see and though we contemplate and dream and wish and shoot for the stars; I know there is more than the plain feelings of simple touches and warmth from a simple hand.
I want more.
A new world. A new life.
A brand new existence, wild and crazed, like the feel of lightning shooting through my veins because at last, I am alive in the truest sense
and no one can stop me!
I want this. I want the madness.
I want to be free to be mad.
I want to be free to have the freedom to be had.
Or maybe I’ve already “been had,” in a sense.
Perhaps, I am gone, or lost or too crazy to become real again.
Maybe this is my madness.
Or mad . . .
Mad as in the maddest forms or romantic insanities, and crazy, like the perfect trembles when the moment brings chills to the spine . . .
Chills . . . Enough so that the moment is narcotic, high as can be, but the brain is neither swayed by the symptom or altered by the chemical because neither the elixir nor the pill nor the powder nor the drug itself can make the body shiver like this.
No. Nothing unnatural make make this occur.
Nothing else can make me as orgasmic as this and nothing in the world is like this…
This….
This is the spice and the flavors of Heaven on Earth which are blessed and touched and graced by the essence of Angels who infiltrated my demons to dose the blood with an impenetrable version of life after life and death after redemption of rebirth.
I do not want to die or die to be reborn but if anything; I only want to be reborn in the sense that finally; I am who I am and I have become who I was always meant to become.
No one can be me.
No one can pretend to be the one I love
And no one will ever love me
(like she).
I think of places I have heard about or read in stories and I wonder about the worlds where tiny villagers smile at people who will never be strangers and are always welcomed as if their tireless journey has led them home.
I wonder about the wealth of simple goodness and genuine purity, which is untouched or unclouded like a sky that has no clouds, and all else is naturally unmolested.
And as for the clouds, they are scattered or few, except, of course the traces of white ones that drape the horizon and become pastel a their bellies during the sunset or sunrise
I know there is beauty in the world, unmatchable and undeniable and equally too; I know this beauty is just as inestimable like the wondrous Gates of Heaven which is guarded by loving Angels and yes, even Heaven has its own armies to protect the divinity of its virtue
I know there has to be truth to the terms “Heaven on Earth” because I have no other choice than to believe that there are Angels on Earth too; and yes, they are just as real as the sunrise and moonlight and whether I am privy or keen enough to see this for myself, despite my sins, I know there is still goodness in my heart.
2)
When you are in love, nothing stops.
Not even if “she” leaves or the paths you take decide to part.
She is everywhere.
to me . . .
Everything starts and yes, when you are in love, everything behind you is gone and you wonder where it went or why it is that nothing else is important anymore.
When you are in love, the person you love is everywhere.
They are shown everywhere and they exist in everything.
You see parts of them or pieces of them wherever you go.
When you are in love, you wonder how you lived your entire life before now and never knew that something like this was real or existed.
When you are in love, there is no absence or presence other than this; a smile, a laugh, a touch from the hand, a body desired and tiny secrets and simple fantasies that flower and grow as wild as the vines that flourish around the entries to The Garden of Eden.
And when you feel this . . .
When you feel this in your heart and somehow, you can feel them in your skin . . .
And when you feel this more and more
Or when you find love or lose love, you wonder of course –
Will I ever feel this way again?
Will this die?
or will this live on?
(forever)
Or will I die with the saying that says “it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.”
I might argue this
but then again. I am in love and my love is on the other side of the world from me.
or elsewhere and doing other things.
When you are in love . . .
Nothing else is like this
No one can stop us.
No one can stop me.
And yes.
I am mad or crazy or madder than the maddest hatter in the world
Oh, what’s the use?
I have been crazy for this long, right?
So?
Then how much of a difference will it be to be crazy for the rest of my life?
No difference
Just hope . . .
Fuck you, to the fear of the unknown
come for me fate.
take me now, destiny.
I am yours
And if not then let me and be free.
I have a dream to achieve
And you
Or she?
She is all I see
And you
are the only she
(for me)
I noticed a ladybug this morning.
I thought about the meaning and the wishes and the ideas of sunflowers and fields and dreams and beaches and the way water soothese the soul.
And, now . . .
I might never be soothed or healed
But no one can stop me from dreaming
Yo sueño contigo
The Written Addiction 