truth. what is truth? is it a truth a constant for everyone's history? is it history? or is just simply poetry? history speaks facts, poetry speaks life. life is poetry; at least to my eyes it is. as a consequence, poetry is truth to me. I like to believe that all of us live around poetry, that all of us are moved by the same feeling, love... I have found that what i believe tends not to be true. somehow, i have found that people are driven by some other feelings that are a code to my eyes. it is not love. I get confused then. I don't know how to act or how to respond to that friendship without love. I just don't know how to do it. Or maybe, how to learn it, or how to get use to it. So I cry, in the dark, lost, with no response, believing that i must be wrong in believing that life is poetry because is not, because nobody believes in it. not even me, not anymore. why? do you know?

There is times where what you want to say, exactly that, nothing else, has been already said or written by someone that at some point thought like you. In those cases is handy to use “quotation marks”

“An elephant with his trunk raised is a ladder to the stars.
A whale is a ladder to the bottom of the sea.
My photographs are a ladder to my dreams.
These letters are a ladder to you”
Gregory Colbert
http://www.ashesandsnow.org

Sunday. Bright. Clean. Here…
It has been four years and yet, I still being me.
I find the logic, I see it. I touch it and yet, I don’t fully understand it.
The possibilities are open. Love. Friends. Countries.
The destinations infinite.
The desire to live, To learn, To love, To go, Immeasurable and yet it is early to decide.
I feel it, in my inside, in my hart, I know is there, she knows I am here, is not going away, and yet I am so scared.

Time is the only invariable element in everyone’s life. Time comes and goes the same for all of us. This time, the invariable one, has branches; these branches have leaves, and the leaves cocoons. Each cocoon can be understood as the perfect arrangement of space and time, the so-called “perfect timing”. Meaning with this that even though all of us, coexisting and sharing this time, live different timing in hour life.
It has been a long wait for me before I was able to get here, a long time, a long pain, and a long journey. What I mean with “ getting here” is getting here as in space and timing here and not as in place and time here. The difference between both resides on, the first one, being spiritual, and the second one, being physical. I care for the first one. Spirit. Essence. Soul. Inside. Conscience.
The long wait was due to lack of knowledge, self-essence knowledge actually. It was due to the lack of patience for timing to occur inside myself. Timing is waiting, is giving the chance of each action to have a reaction, is waiting for people to emerge, for opportunities to come, for learning to happen. Such learning will allow to get ready for the perfect time: where time, the invariable one, and timing meet; where happiness happens, where fullness, independence, dependence, passion and joy arises.
I am still in the search of that perfect timing, in fact everyone should be. I have to act in order to be, to search in order to find, to see in order to learn, to lack in order to have.

“Many things in this world are improbable, but nothing is imposible.
It is not necessary see to believe, it is necessary believe to see.”
Gabriel Garcia Marquez