Bittersweet Faith

Angie.

Es curioso… que tu pienses que yo soy la persona más buena que conoces, y que tu seas exactamente lo mismo para mi. Lo que te hace especial es tu buen corazón. 

Painting skies.

It’s an Adele kind of afternoon, or perhaps a Michael Bublé night… “Should i give up or should i just keep chasing pavements even if it leads nowhere “

I walk trough the grass of a subtle day, while the wind chases me and a scent of mint floats around. It’s just me and the sky, my illusions and faith. It’s a beautiful day and I walk.

Every step leads me to a place where there’s anyone but me and the truth. I can picture it. At least i hope that i can keep something from you. But now i see our dreams. They float so far away from each other… have i told you…? i used to wonder if they could collide somehow, someway.

Desperetly. Everyone wants to feel desperetly. That’s the reason why we all play this game, that’s why we try so hard to give everything a meaning, to turn simple into complicated, to draw a world of fakeness, feelings and lies, to use masks… Who has the courage to be genuine?

I see my hands. Actually, i have nothing.

It’s kind of funny this theater, this market of emotions, where anyone that can control our feelings becomes the powerful one. How do i know who can i believe in?

The music I love, my memories, my injuries, i’m more my defeats than my victories, i’m sacrifice and cinism, arrogance and braveness, it’s me, at my time, my rythim and my desires.

I’ve been drowning into my words, i’ve got drunk with my ego, i’ve broken the moon, the time and i’ve hate with that intensity that burns it all.

It’s a feeling or a desire. Perhaps i don’t want to feel this way anymore. If i see you there will be magic. If i don’t then it will be imposible to fix.

Suddenly i see paint in my hands, paint that has been trhow across the road. What i had left behind me without notice? The canvas is infinite. And art is subjective.

Life is technicolor. Do you have the courage to see it? Will you be a blind all your life?

I’m so eager to find out how the story ends.

It will be an Adele kind of afternoon, or perhaps a Michael Bublé night… “Birds flying high, you know how i feel… “

I’ll walk trough the grass of a subtle day, while the wind will try to chase me and a scent of mint will float around. It’s gonna be me and the sky, my illusions and faith. It will be a beautiful day. And i’ll fly.

It's funny (and pathetic) cause it's true...

• - Todas mis relaciones están cortadas por la misma tijera...
• - En realidad, están cortadas por la misma ceguera...