In love.

I never thought that I would say this, but I miss my dad.
Even though for all those years, we didn't get along...

It's all I need.

One day...

Learn and be really good at within the next couple months...

1. Algebra/Calculous.
2. Statistics.
3. Physics.
4. Strategy.
5. Geometry.
6. Linear and non-linear equations.

I killed a cat once. Watched it die infront of me for a while
and felt nothing. Left it there and never looked back.

Quizás

En el fondo tu y yo somos casi igual y me vuelvo loco solo con pensar. Quizás, la vida nos separe cada día mas. Quizás, la vida nos aleje de la realidad. Quizás, tú buscas un desierto y yo busco un mar. Quizás, que gracias a la vida hoy...

Now that is June, we'll sleep out in the garden
and if it rains we'll just sink into the mud.

Freckles get me every time.

Alan, what do you want to be when you grow up?

5 - I just want to play [Futbol]
8 - I want to be a [Futbol] player.
10 - I want to play [Futbol] and have a lot
of money so I can give it away to the poor.
11 - I want to be part of the FBI or CIA.
13 - I want to do something about poverty
and all the injustice.
15 - I want to be an artist, a writer or a musician.
17 - I want to be an Architect.
24- I want to be...

Infinite wisdom. Uncontrollable imagination. Intricate sensitivity.
Incomparable skill. Indefinite effort. Unfathomable conviction.

Once... I Wanted To Be The Greatest.

I just can't get over you.

Caringiscreepy

I wake up to the sound of the rain tapping at my window. My eyes struggle for about 2 seconds before I can fully open them. My head is pounding once again and the back of my mind is showing me the reason why. The weakness is there. The spinning is there. The thirst is there. All of it again. I close my eyes and try to ignore it. The alarm which I have named, "Fuck my life" goes off at exactly 5:00 a.m. I look for it. I find it and quickly look at the date. It is a Saturday morning so no need for this. I turn it off and lie back down. As I move my hand I realize that I am not alone on the bed. My hand rests upon another hand that is clearly not my own. I look at her. I feel nothing. She looks tender, undisturbed, almost innocent. I gently move my fingers across her face. Her soft, smooth, delicate and pale skin is warm against my cold touch. Her hair is dark and spread across the pillow. It completes and complements everything around it. She's an absolute beauty, but the more I think of it, the less there is of any kind of feeling. She opens her eyes and looks straight at me. Well, another pair of oceans in my life.
"Good morning." She immediately says.
"Morning." I respond.
She smiles. my face remains impassive. I am just a blank. My thoughts are not with her, but on a distant path. She pulls me in closer and kisses my neck. I am indifferent to any of this affection. I close my eyes and direct my sail towards that uncanny sea. I wake up four hours later. She's still holding on to me. The spinning is still there. I look up at the cracked ceiling thinking of a way out. Why has it become so effortless for me to detach myself from these feelings? I try to push her off in a way that she will not wake. She moves. No sound. I look out the window and notice that the rain is gone. The heavy cloud remain. I sit at the edge of the bed holding my head with my shaky hands. I get up and make my way to the bathroom with all the shit inside almost at the tip of my tongue. I make it to the toilet in time. I puke all over the place. There's that pain on my side again. The discomfort of the stomach. The anxiety of the heart. The despondency of the mind. I get myself in this situation acknowledging the consequences. Why then do I do it night after night? What's missing? I manage to pick myself up and wash up. I look at the mirror. The mirror is the one that's dirty and lying. I am just fine. I walk back to the room. I put my clothes on and look for the remaining belongings. Phone, wallet, keys, tunes. Two cigarettes left. Enough to keep me company on my way home. I look at her on the bed. Doesn't she deserve a second chance? Better yet, don't I deserve a chance? She wakes up. Fuck.
"Are you leaving?"
"Go back to sleep."
"Where are you going? Are you just gonna leave?"
"Yeah, I'm gonna go get some coffee. I feel like shit."
"Well, can I come with you? I need some coffee too...I think. My head hurts."
"That sucks."
"I'm just gonna use the bathroom really quick."
"Damn, well hurry up."
"I will."
She gets up stumbling. Kisses my cheek and smiles. I feel disgusted, but I control it. I sit back on the bed and grab a magazine from the pile on the floor. Vogue. Sometimes I get sick of this shit. She comes back to the room looking better by the second. Her skinny legs running around here and there. Clothes flying all over the place. I look at her. Everything goes into slow motion. The movement and flow of her body become strangely familiar, although somehow bitterly distinct. There you go again kid, comparing everyone to that unforgettable wonder. I lose myself in thought.
"Alan." She breaks it.
"What?"
"What are you thinking about?"
Ah fuck. Not again. Not another one of these again.
"What? Nothing, I was just looking at you?"
"Liar."
"Are you ready?"
"Yup, how do I look?"
"You look good." She does look incredible. Those freckles underneath those eyes. The way her smile leans to one side. The way she stands with a background of infinite life. Perhaps this is it. Why not?
"Should we go then?"
"Yeah, I fucking need that coffee so bad."
"Yeah, me too."
We walk out. No sun yet. Good. I wouldn't be able to stand it at this moment. We each pull a cigarette out and light it. We sit on the steps to smoke before we leave. I sit here. There is that creepy feeling again. Caring is not within my nature. Too close and I want out. Too intense and I want a quiescent life. Indifference is conquering the tender part again. Let it become unknown and the outside remains the same. Too scared little boy? Is that what the problem is? Is that what is happening here? I look off into the distant view. The sun is slowly showing it's face. The wind is blowing and I sit here making up excuses. She grabs my hand. I turn my head and there she is with that smile again. I kiss her forehead and get up. I walk to her car. We get in and we drive off. My name is Alan and I am a soulless blank page.

I want.

there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out, but I'm too tough
for him, I say, stay in there, I'm not going to let anybody see you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out, but I pour whiskey
on him and inhale cigarette smoke and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks never know that he's in there.
there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough
for him, I say, stay down, do you want to mess me up? you want to
screw up the works? you want to blow my book sales in Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out, but I'm too clever,
I only let him out at night sometimes when everybody's asleep. I say,
I know that you're there, so don't be sad. then I put him back, but he's
singing a little in there, I haven't quite let him die and we sleep together
like that with our secret pact and it's nice enough to make a man weep,
but I don't weep, do you?

Yup, I'm all about freckles.

Yes, I received your letter yesterday, about the time the doorknob broke
when you asked how I was doing, was that some kind of joke? All these
people that you mention yes, I know them, they’re quite lame. I had to
rearrange their faces and give them all another name. Right now I can’t
read too good don’t send me no more letters, no, not unless you mail them
from...

Amazing.

42.

Some days seemed long, some days seemed short, but the days kept on going.
Gray food, gray days, gray sounds behind those gray walls, just a single
window to let the gray light in. Every little detail of the world outside can't
be shut behind dark clouds forever.

I'm pretty sure I'm obsessed.

Too perfect. Those gapped teeth get to me.